#because your smiling face makes it all worth it

[writeaboutit]

Donation Boot

How firefighter Abby and Reader met

Hello hello it’s been a bit so sorry but I had this idea for a series of sorts following firefighter Abby x Reader through life. I have ideas for a couple more stories but if you have any suggestions leave them in my inbox for sure 🤍

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: none just fluff

You heard her key jingle in the lock from the kitchen. The metal on metal scratching noise was like music to your ears despite it being like nails on a chalkboard to others.

That noise meant your wife was finally home. All day you had been waiting for her to come home, missing her warm cuddles. She left for the station before you had even woken up.

Usually you stirred awake for the briefest of moments in those early hours when you heard the shower start, you made it a point to stay awake just long enough to say an I love you as you sent her off to do her work. You never knew when it might be your last so you didn’t chance it.

But last night the melatonin must have hit you extra hard because you didn’t even register Abby’s movements when she leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to your brow bone before clunking out of the room in her steel toed boots.

You regretted not waking up; no more melatonin for you.

The front door creaked open and you heard your dog’s collar jingle as she ran to greet your wife.

Abby must have been following the dogs lead to your presence in the kitchen because you heard her mutter, “Come on, where’s your momma?”

Your heart was instantly a mushy puddle on the tile floor following the comment. Just as you finished drying your hands the love of your life rounded the corner.

She was wearing her normal uniform. Not the big, bulky, fireproof suit but the fitted jeans and the navy blue t-shirt with the station’s logo over her breast.

You were such a sucker for a woman in uniform, it’s how she caught your attention in the first place. But what kept you around was that blinding smile she had plastered across her face that first day.

You and your friends decided to visit your local farmers market during second year of college. It was a fluke really, you weren’t even planning to go with them but after days of them whining that you could spare a couple of hours away from the text books and come have fun you agreed.

The local fire station had a booth set up collecting donations and the truck open for kids to climb in and take pictures.

One of your friends thought a fire fighter was hot and insisted on getting a picture with him by the truck (her very obvious way of flirting). You couldn’t blame her though because you had your eye on one of the younger trainees.

She was working the booth, tracking donation levels and you knew you would hate yourself for the rest of your life if you ignored your gut.

So, despite you being 19 and a broke college student you approached. They were collecting cash donations in one of the big fire suit boots.

You slipped the only cash you had on you into the dark depths of the boot, ten dollars, and were planning to make your way back to your friends, chickening out of talking to her, when all of the sudden you heard, “Hey, wait!”

You turned around and there she was. She had gotten up from her perch and made her way around the table. It was a bit jarring at first. She was tall, muscular, that tight ponytail made her look very sever, and here she was leaning over you with an expectant look.

“Yes?” you asked hesitantly.

“Don’t you want your coupons?” she asked suddenly realizing that she was close and backing up a step.

“Sorry?”

The confusion must have been written on your face because she immediately explained in a sort of rambily but very cute way, “When you donate you get a coupon to the local grocery store… and some other stores but honestly there all the old lady stores in the mall. The grocery ones the only one worth it.”

You just smiled softly at her over explanation. You expected her to be this over confident, maybe slightly douchy character from the way she approached before but really you could see her nerves peaking through now.

It only made you more attracted to her in all honesty.

“Oh right, yeah thanks.” you took the coupon sheet from her and after a moment of tense silence between the pair of you, you both went your separate ways.

It wasn’t until later that night when you went to cut out the grocery coupon and throw out the rest that you realized she had messily scribbled her name and number onto the think colorful price of paper.

You squealed, your roommate asked what was wrong and then you both quickly plotted on what you should text her.

It was simple really just a quick hey this is so n’ so, how are you?

Your phone only sat face down for a total of three minutes before you heard the chime of her reply and the rest is history.

Now seven years later your wife, the nervous fire fighter with the tight ponytail, was coming home to you. You would share a meal, a shower, a bed. It was the life you always wanted and all because you went to a farmers market on a random Sunday seven years ago.

That blinding smile that caught your attention all those years ago was plastered across her face now in the small kitchen of your small house.

Her setting her bag down on the island brings you out of your memory.

“Hey honey,” you greet, making your way to her.

“Hi baby, what were you thinking about just now?” she wraps her arms loosely around your waist.

“Hmm nothing much just your pretty smile,” she rolls her eyes, never one to take a compliment, “Speaking of which, that smile usually means you’re plotting something. What is it?”

She looks down at you and smiles, “You know me too well. I was plotting on what we are going to do over the next three days that I have off of work.”

That gets you excited. It’s not often that she gets time off of work. Sometimes you don’t even see her for days at a time when she has to sleep at the station. Three days off in a row is practically unheard of.

“Really?”

“Swear,” she kisses your forehead.

“Eek, so what were you planning?”

She chuckles and belts her arms just under your thighs, lifting you into the air, “Oh I think you know exactly what i have planned.”

Her voice turned seductive and husky. You squealed as you became level with her face. You both laughed into a soft kiss, one that was definitely going to lead to a forgotten dinner on the stove and a closed bedroom door.

[love4myg]

early mornings

summary. when time seems to bend every morning and love speaks through tender touches and quiet reassurances.

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pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, tooth-rotting fluff

word count: 1k

content: yoongi and oc wake up in each others arms / they love each other a bit too much and they make it pretty clear / they kiss a lot :3

warnings: fear of abandonment (kind of? if you squint??), allusions to sex

notes: idk why i'm procrastinating the third part of 'stumble into you' so bad, but this is a result of me still wanting to write something. also, ignore the images at the top if they don’t go well together, i’m too lazy to actually put in effort today 😭 likes, reblogs, comments, and asks are all greatly appreciated!! i love you guys and i hope you enjoy <33333

main masterlist

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Amber rays spill across the room, seeping between the gaps in the curtains and kissing your bare skin with its golden warmth.

Yoongi stirs under the sheets, attempting to untangle his limbs from you, who lay beside him. But your arms only tighten around him, and he quickly gives in to the comforts of your touch.

With your head on his chest and his arm secure under your head, he can't help the lazy smile that draws across his lips.

He's always loved early mornings with you; when neither of you have to think about anything else but each other; when time feels like it ceases to exist; when nothing else mattered, because why would it when you had each other?

You were his home; his universe; his first thought in the morning and the most frequent visitor of his dreams. Everything reminded him of you, and it was maddening. But he welcomed the longing with open arms, because he was a fool.

Because he knew that it was worth being foolish if it meant having you.

Yoongi places a kiss on your forehead, his lips pressing against a few strands of hair that lay messily across your face. The scent of your skin, faintly sweet like the lavender soap you use, lingers in the air as Yoongi buries his nose in your hair, taking in the quiet of the morning, broken only by the soft hum of your breathing. He moves his hand to rest over yours, running the pad of his thumb over your knuckles.

He doesn't expect the gentle action to wake you, but your eyes flutter open. You hum, the sound quiet and laced with exhaustion as you stretch out your body.

Your eyes light up when you meet his gaze and the butterflies in his stomach erupt, fluttering around wildly.

"Morning," you whisper. You peck his lips with a soft kiss.

"Morning," Yoongi echoes. A faint blush paints his features, and a giggle tumbles from your mouth. Yoongi catches the sound with another kiss; then a third one that lingers for a few seconds longer than the others.

It is almost embarrassing to admit the effect you had on him. You've been together for years, and known each other for even more. He knows every dip and curve of your body and you have seen him through all of his highs and lows. Yet, a kiss from you still has him blushing.

"Missed me?" you tease, and he hums in agreement.

"A lot." He kisses corner of your lips and the curve of your jaw. "You're so pretty."

You laugh; a soft sound that rings through the air. It has always been Yoongi's favourite melody-the one sound that made his heart swell and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons to accommodate his growing smile.

He tucks a few strands of your hair behind your ear, letting his hand stay to cup your cheek so that he can bring his lips to yours again. He’s addicted to the way your lips fit perfectly with his, and no matter how often he kisses you, it’s never enough

And you can't stop smiling.

The feeling that courses under your skin is almost overwhelming. It still feels surreal—that kind of love, where just being with him made the world right

The possibility of losing Yoongi terrifies you, but it's a fear that follows you everyday. Sometimes, you expect to wake up one day only to realise that this is all a cruel dream, or to find the house suddenly void of his belongings and his presence.

Sometimes, the fear creeps in before you can stop it, a quiet panic that gripped you in the space between sleep and waking. You’d reach out, half-afraid to find the bed cold and empty. But then, your hand would meet the warmth of his skin, and the fear dissolved into nothing. Because every morning, he's here. Solid, warm, and real, wrapped up in the sheets beside you. His sleepy eyes, the soft curve of his lips, the way he pulls you closer as if you’re his anchor—it’s all so undeniably Yoongi, and it makes your heart flutter with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.

You press your forehead to his, noses brushing, as if the closer you hold him, the more real this will become. Yoongi's fingers trail lightly over your skin, tracing invisible patterns that make you shiver.

“You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs, voice raspy but tender, like he's always known your thoughts even before you speak them.

You let out a soft sigh, trying to find the words, but they dissolve on your tongue when his hand glides over your waist, settling at the small of your back.

“You’re here,” you whisper, more to yourself than him. It's a quiet confession of the relief that washes over you each time you wake up to find him still beside you. He smiles against your skin, a low hum of agreement in his throat. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, his voice carrying the weight of every unspoken assurance. "You know that I'll always be right here-right beside you, whenever you need me."

For a moment, the world falls away. There’s no fear of loss, no dread of waking up alone. It’s just him, his presence grounding you, his breath steady and warm against your neck. The intimacy of the moment swells between you, a shared heartbeat that drowns out the rest of the world.

Your legs tangle beneath the sheets as he pulls you even closer, his hand finding yours under the covers. His touch is gentle, tender, as if he’s memorizing every inch of you, and in the glow of the early morning, you feel more connected to him than ever.

You close your eyes, letting the warmth of his skin seep into yours, feeling utterly safe in his embrace.

And in that moment, you know—this is home.

[firehose118]

in sickness

for @bucktommypositivityweek - predict the future

Buck is rooting through their sock drawer when he finds it.

He’s looking for a particular pair of socks: wool, blue and grey striped, soft and warm. They’re the ones that Tommy likes to wear when he’s sick, and right now he is sick. It’s nothing life-threatening, but Tommy is miserable. He hasn’t been able to breathe out of his nose for two days now, his nostrils have been rubbed raw by tissue after tissue, and he’s still shivering under three blankets.

When Buck shoves aside several identical pairs of white socks and sees the little box, he’s confused; almost a little panicked. This isn’t where he hid it. He could have sworn it was still in his locker at work. How did it get here? How did it get to the house, first of all, and how did it end up on Tommy’s side of their sock drawer? Oh god, did Tommy already see it? There goes the surprise.

And then Buck realizes that this is a different box than the one that houses the ring he bought for Tommy. It’s a different color, texture, and it’s from a different store. That means Tommy bought this. Tommy bought a ring. Tommy bought a ring.

Tommy wants to get married. Tommy wants to keep Buck forever. It’s not a surprise—they’ve talked about it, and Tommy has been more than clear that he’s in this relationship for the longhaul; more than clear that he’s deeply in love with Buck and their life together—but it makes Buck’s heart flutter just the same. Tommy is ready to make the commitment.

Buck must have been still and silent for too long, because Tommy raises his head from where he’d been buried under the covers and looks in Buck’s direction.

“Did you find them?” Tommy asks, his voice scratchy and stuffy.

There’s no point in pretending like he didn’t find the ring. This is all he’s going to be able to think about now, and he’s terrible at hiding his thoughts. Tommy would sniff it out in a moment, even this sick.

“Uh,” Buck says, a massive smile taking over his face. “I- I found something.” He holds up the little box.

Tommy looks confused for a moment and then his eyes go wide. “Oh. You weren’t supposed to- I had a plan.” His head hits the pillow with a groan.

Buck walks over to the bed, still smiling, and kneels on the floor by Tommy. “Oh, you had a plan, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tommy sighs. His frown is earnest and adorable. “Big romantic thing. Helicopter and a picnic at sunset. You were gonna love it.”

That does sound like something Buck would love. It’s thoughtful, sweet, intimate—fun. It’s so much better than anything Buck has been able to come up with. Buck has been making and scrapping plans for two months now because they weren’t perfect. Tommy’s plan was perfect.

Still, Buck can’t let Tommy think he was the only one ready for the next step. Who knows how long Tommy has had that ring. Has he been waiting for a sign that Buck was ready? He’s been so good about letting Buck set the pace of this relationship. This would have been the first step that Tommy asked Buck to take since their first kiss, first date. Buck wants Tommy to know he’s ready. They’re moving at the same pace, and Buck thinks that’s a beautiful thing. Well worth ruining the surprise over.

“And what if I told you I bought a ring too?” Buck bites his lip.

“Yeah?” Tommy asks, his face lighting up. He tries to sit up but Buck stops him with a hand on his chest, rubbing it back and forth soothingly.

“Yeah. But I hid it somewhere you wouldn’t find it. Not in one of our shared spaces,” Buck teases. “Babe, I wear your clothes all the time.”

Tommy’s eyebrows pull together stubbornly. “Never my socks, though. You hate my socks.”

Buck has never said that out loud but it’s true. He’s a little overwhelmed by the casual intimacy that knowledge betrays. Tommy knows him so well. Tommy pays attention to him so well, and he seems happy to. It’s all Buck has ever wanted. Finally, Buck has the kind of love he’s spent his entire life searching for. He’s never been more sure that Tommy is it for him.

“I do,” Buck says. He sounds utterly besotted even to his own ears. “Your socks are terrible. The toe seams are too thick.”

“I’ve never once noticed the toe seam,” Tommy laughs, equally as besotted. Like the way Buck sees the world is charming and beautiful to him instead of frustrating and in need of correction.

“I have a hard time believing that.” Buck hands Tommy the ring box. “I’ll put this back and wait for your big romantic proposal if you want. The answer will be the same.”

Before he can respond, Tommy sneezes. Buck hands him a fresh tissue from the box on the nightstand. Tommy takes it and looks at Buck consideringly. He smiles fondly and shakes his head.

“No need to wait. Honestly, I think this might be more romantic.” Tommy gestures with the tissue. “In sickness and in health, right?”

The wet sound of him blowing his nose makes it very clear which side of that dichotomy he’s on at the moment.

“That’s right,” Buck smiles.

Tommy smiles back. He’s glassy-eyed and red-nosed, his hair is wild, and his stubble is scruffier than he usually lets it get. Still, in this moment, he’s the most handsome man Buck has ever seen.

Tommy’s hands shake a little as he opens the box. The ring is beautiful: simple gold, wide and rounded, understated and elegant. Timeless. It’s perfect.

“Evan Buckley,” Tommy starts, voice scratchy and congested. He gives Buck a pained look and sighs. “I had a whole speech planned for this, but my brain is so fucking foggy right now I can’t remember it all.” They both laugh. “But I know why I love you, so I’ll start there. You’re kind, and brave, and smart. You keep me on my toes and you make me laugh. You make me feel safe. I don’t think I’ve ever felt held the way I do with your arms around me. You love with your whole heart, and I feel so lucky that someone as incredible as you chose me. You’re the best partner anyone could ask for. Every day with you is better than the last. There were so many times over the years when we almost met that it’s kind of insane we didn’t, but I’m glad it took us so long. You know I don’t really believe in this stuff most of the time, but I think we met when we did for a reason. We weren’t ready for each other before that hurricane. But I’m ready for you now, and I hope you’re ready for me, too. I love you more than I could ever hope to put into words. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

“Please,” Buck says breathlessly. Tommy’s laugh is filled with affection as Buck hurries to correct himself. “I- I mean of course, yes. Yes, I- I will marry you.”

The tears are coming now. Even through the brainfog that comes with a cold like this, Tommy was able to pull that off. If that wasn’t the rehearsed speech, Buck doesn’t think he would have survived the real one. It makes Buck’s general you flipped my life rightside-up and now I see the world in color and I’ll love you forever feel a little inadequate. He needs to organize his thoughts a little better before he can present them to Tommy.

“I- I have a speech too,” Buck assures him, “but it’s not ready yet.”

“That’s okay,” Tommy says easily. He’s looking at Buck with such naked adoration that it makes Buck’s heart soar. “Neither of us were expecting this today. Give it to me when you give me my ring.”

Buck nods and sniffles. “I will.”

Tommy reaches for him. “Can I have your hand, sweetheart?”

Buck gives Tommy his hand and Tommy slides the ring onto his finger. It fits perfectly. It looks like it’s always been there.

Illness be damned, Buck has to kiss him. They’re long past the point of caring about getting each other’s germs. Tommy’s lips are chapped from days of breathing through his mouth, he tastes stale, and his skin is hot and clammy. It’s one of the best kisses Buck has ever had.

They pull back when Tommy needs to breathe. Buck doesn’t go far. He runs a hand through Tommy’s hair and just admires him. Even like this, he’s gorgeous. Buck is so lucky. This is the person who looked at Buck and saw him for who he is—who looked at Buck and saw Evan. This is the person who has had a front-row seat to all of his flaws and insecurities and bad habits and found something to love about all of them. This is the person who doesn’t love him anyway but loves him because—who loves his jealousy because it makes him feel wanted, loves his clinginess because it makes him feel held, loves his tendency to speak without thinking because it’s honest. This is the person who never makes him feel insecure about wanting or needing anything; about who he is. This is the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with. His fiancé. His soon-to-be husband. His-

“Baby, can I please have my socks?” Tommy asks in a small voice.

“Oh!” Buck had gotten so sidetracked by the whole proposal thing that he forgot why he was looking through Tommy’s side of the sock drawer in the first place. Buck presses a quick kiss to Tommy’s forehead and jumps up. “Of course, I’m sorry.”

Buck goes back to their dresser. The wool socks are right on top. He doesn’t know how he missed them before. It feels like a sign, like he was supposed to find the ring first.

It feels like the universe saw how stressed he’s been about getting the proposal exactly perfect and decided this was the right way for them to get engaged. No big plans, no rehearsed speeches, no theatrics. Just love and care and the simple intimacy of this life they’ve made together: messy and raw and gross. It’s so imperfect that it’s kind of perfect. It’s them.

This is why none of Buck’s plans had felt right. He’d been so focused on making things perfect and exciting for Tommy that he’d lost sight of what really mattered. The strength of their relationship isn’t in the big, dramatic moments. Sure, they met during a hurricane, but they built their relationship in the quiet, imperfect, domestic moments as they learned how to take care of each other. Their relationship isn’t a fantasy: it’s reality. It works precisely because it’s imperfect and they both want it anyway—because they are imperfect and they both still want each other.

Buck puts the socks on Tommy’s feet for him, then he lays under the covers next to him. He pulls Tommy to snuggle into his chest. Tommy is still sniffly and clammy and, objectively, pretty disgusting. Buck pulls him closer.

Soon, Tommy drifts off. He snores in the loud, startling way he only does when he’s congested. Buck feels lucky to hear it. He runs his hand through Tommy’s hair and feels his ring catch on the strands. Happy, content, at ease; Buck settles in.

{give me kudos!}

[sturnsdarling]

save a horse...

you and Matt go to a ranch for your anniversary and end up finding an old abandoned barn, taking the perfect opportunity to live your true wild west fantasy.

vibe check: smutty fluff, cowgirl position (obvi), public (kind of) sex

3k words

A/N: it hurts to write my dreams instead of living them. anyways the idea of cowboy!matt makes me feel a bit wobbly in the knees so this is my version of that, this fic is dedicated to the one and only cas (@sturnioz) because she, and I quote, 'loves this shit'

love and cigs, merc

It was yours and Matts year anniversary, you were driving through the South West, Matts hand on your thigh as you drove towards the ranch you had found as a surprise for him.

It was huge, an old family run ranch in the middle of nowhere. Recently, Matt had been on a kick about reconnecting with nature so, with your anniversary coming up you thought a long weekend in a ranch would be perfect for him to live out his cowboy dreams.

When you got there,

the family that rented it out was welcoming and lovely, showing you both the little house you'd be staying in for the weekend. It was an old converted barn, all the old wood work still intact and the furnishings being very on theme for yours and Matts 'wild west' weekend.

It was perfect, and the look on Matts face when he saw the cracks of light seeping through the cracking wood walls made everything worth it.

Once you guys had dropped off your stuff,

you and Matt decided to wander around the grounds and find a nice spot to have a picnic. After a while of walking about and taking photos of the beautiful scenery, you noticed a large tree a little ways walk from where you were, telling Matt it was the perfect spot and he agreed, looping his arm over your shoulder and leading you both to the tree.

When you sat down,

Matt laid down your picnic blanket and told you to sit down, saying he'd get everything ready and that you didn't have to do anything. You complied, watching as he unpacked everything, the bright orange sun illuminating his beautiful face perfectly.

"I can feel you starin' at me, you know" Matt smirked, pulling to plastic wine glasses out the basket followed by a bottle of root beer.

"i'm not staring, i'm admiring" you corrected him.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head and turning to face you, hooking a soft finger under your chin and pulling your head up to him. He pressed a tender kiss on your glossy lips, slotting his mouth between yours perfectly. You let out a satisfied hum into the kiss, relishing in the feeling of his lips on yours.

Matt pulled away and opened the bottle of soda, he held it out to you like a waiter holding wine and made a fancy, silly face, "will this do, your highness" he spoke in a posh English accent.

you giggled, nodding and trying to pull a serious face, "yes, that will do nicely" you mimicked his tone.

Matt chuckled and poured you a cup of soda before pouring his own, holding it out to you to cheers before sitting down next to you on the blanket.

You were facing the horizon, watching as the sun began to set, leaving the sky a hazy orange and pink swirl of colours. You rested your head on Matts shoulder and he turned to place a soft kiss on your hair.

"happy anniversary, beautiful" Matt said, softly.

You lifted your head, resting your chin on his shoulder as he looked down at you, batting your lashes at him as you gazed at him, "happy anniversary, my love"

He smiled, placing a soft kiss on your lips before turning back to face the sunset.

You stayed there for a while, eating, laughing and enjoying each others company. The sun was still setting, and you were laying on Matts chest, peppering soft kisses all over his face as he chuckled beneath you. You were giggling the whole time, loving how he let you shower him with love like you so desperately wanted to twenty four seven. Matt placed his large hands on your hips, flipping you both over so he was on top of you. You giggled at the swift movement, and Matt hovered over you, watching in awe at the way your face lit up when you laughed.

Your giggles subsided, and you looked up to Matt, who's eyes were flitting between yours and your lips. You looked to his plump lips, and bit down on your bottom lip at the sight of him looking at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Matt craned his head down, pressing his lips against yours with a firm hand on your jaw. You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss with a swipe of your tongue against his lip. He accepted your invitation and pressed his warm tongue against yours, absentmindedly grinding his hips down into yours as you hooked one leg around his waist.

Everything was perfect, you were in a beautiful place, with a beautiful boy, making out on a picnic blanket like sneaky teenagers trying to get some alone time in the wild west.

Once the sun had begun to slip under the horizon, you decided to do some more exploring before heading back to where you were staying.

On your adventure, you guys had spotted an old barn, it was falling apart at the seams and looked as if no one had touched it in years.

"we have to go see inside" you said, pulling Matt towards the old barn with your hand in his.

He followed you, letting you lead him town the dry hill towards the large old structure.

You reached the doors, pulling on the old lock slightly as it basically crumbled in your hand. Matt reached above your head, pulling the door open and letting you walk in.

It was like a time capsule, bails of old hay everywhere, old horse riding equipment and a beat up tractor in the middle.

"this is so cool" Matt said, looking around in awe.

You were just looking at him, watching his face light up with every new thing he noticed. You did a full lap of the barn, and didn't take your eyes off him once, just letting him guide you about with his fingers locked between yours.

"y'staring again, baby" He chuckled, turning to face you, placing his hands round your waist and pulling you into him.

you looped your hands around his neck, "admiring" you corrected him again, brushing your lips over his.

Matt pulled you into him, capturing your lips in a kiss that was quick to become desperate. His warm tongue pressed and pushed against yours as your hands found the tangled curls at the back of his head. His hand snuck down to your ass, gripping and squeezing at the flesh over your flowery sundress. Matt walked you backwards towards the bails of hay, laying you down gently on top of them without breaking the kiss.

He laid you down, one hand on your face and the other on your thigh as he looped your leg around his waist. Matt ground his hips down onto yours, pressing his growing cock against your pussy as your dress fell bunched around your waist. You whimpered into the kiss, tugging at Matts hair and pulling him closer into you with your leg.

Matts hand wandered up your leg, pushing your dress further up with his soft hands as his hand edged impossibly close to where the two of you connected. He pressed and kneaded at your skin as he ground his hips down into your core, hard and slowly, chasing his own friction just as much as he was trying to help you chase yours.

You whined into Matts mouth once more, biting down on his lip and bucking your hips into his. Matt chuckled, breaking the kiss and pulling away from you slightly.

"so needy" He muttered, lips still brushing yours.

"you like it when I'm needy" you pretended to sulk, earning a smile from Matt

Matt nodded, quickly pressing his lips to yours once more, "I love it, baby, y'so sexy when you're all desperate f'me" Matt smirked.

You let out a satisfied hum and kissed him again, this time, just after kissing you back for a moment, Matt began to trail is lips down your neck and along your chest, pulling at the bust of your dress with delicate fingers to expose your hard nipple to him. He locked his mouth around it, sucking down before biting it between his teeth, toothing the sting with another warm press of his tongue.

Your back arched into him, your head falling back onto the hay with a small moan. Matt made his way down your body, watching as you arched into his touch, bunching your dress around your hips and coming to eye level with your already soaked folds. Matt groaned at the sight when he saw you weren't wearing any underwear, his mind reeling at the thought of you not wearing any all day.

Your folds glistened for him, and he swiped a gentle finger over your core, earning a soft moan from your lips as you bucked your hips, chasing the feeling.

"so pretty and perfect" Matt uttered, his breath hot over your pussy as he edged impossibly close.

He wanted to tease you, he really did, but the sight of you like this for him, in a pretty sundress, spread open in an old barn with cowgirl boots on and no underwear, Matt was desperate to taste you.

Matt pressed a soft kiss against your slick folds, brushing his thumb over your puffy clit as his tongue dipped into your sopping hole. Your hands found his hair, pressing gentle fingers into his scalp as he began to lap at your pussy.

A soft, breathy moan left your lips, your legs coming to hang over his shoulders, boots wrapped behind his head as he groaned at the taste of you on his tongue.

"fuck, Matt, that feels so good" you moaned, head rolling on its hinge as your eyes fluttered shut.

Matt hummed in response, the vibrations making you clench around nothing as he continued to lap and kiss at your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit periodically, sending bouts of shivers up your spine every time.

It was blissful, his slow pace making your whole body tingle as you moaned his name, unable to stop the noises that left your mouth. He was bringing you to eye watering orgasm with just his mouth, working you so slow and tenderly, his steady pace making your stomach tense and your legs tighten around his head. You were a whimpering mess, moaning his name over and over again as you approached your high on his tongue.

it was as if Matt had a sixth sense that was tuned into your body, knowing exactly when you were going to cum without having to be told. He kept his pace, lapping softly at your pussy, driving you to a piercing orgasm. You were seeing stars, releasing your cum all over his mouth as you ground your hips against his face desperately.

Matt continued his pressure against your pussy, helping you ride out your orgasm. Your hands found his jaw, and you pulled at him, dragging him away from your pussy and whimpering as you pulled him upwards to you. Matt chuckled, crawling up your body and following your request as you pulled him down into you, kissing him with feverish need.

"see how good you taste, baby?" Matt spoke into your mouth.

You whined into the kiss, and Matt flipped you both over, so you were on top of him, sopping pussy pressed against the rough material of his jeans. He toyed with the fabric of your dress, pushing his hands under the material and pressing bruises into your skin as you ground down onto him, kissing him like he was oxygen and you were struggling to breathe.

You moved your kisses down his neck, inching your hands down the buttons of his shirt. You expertly unbuttoned his flannel, his bare chest exposed to you as you pushed it open, leaving it loose on his arms. You arched into him as you peppered wet kisses down his stubble ridden jaw, down his neck and across his chest. You were crawling down his body, your tongue inching closer and closer to the little trail of hair that led to your favourite thing.

You paused as you reached his bulge, palming him through his jeans as you looked up at him through your lashes. You fiddled with his belt, Matt helping you remove his jeans and boxers in one swift movement. His leaking cock slapped against his stomach, the sight of it making your mouth water as Matts gentle hand found your jaw, moving to the back of your head to take a handful of your hair.

You took Matts length in your hand, pumping him slowly as you hovered your mouth over his leaking tip. His head hung back, jaw slack as a soft moan left his lips.

You wrapped your lips around him, lowering your head down his length with a flat tongue against his stiff length. Matts grip on your hair tightened, him fighting every muscle in his body not to fuck into your mouth, wanting to let you do your thing that you did so well. You began to bob your head up and down against him, hollowing your cheeks out as you let him bottom out in your throat.

Matt gently guided your head down onto him, pressing his hips against your lips as you gagged around him.

"fuck, baby, your mouth feels s'good" Matt said breathlessly, letting you continue to bob up and down on him.

You hummed around him, the vibration sending a jolt up his spine as he softly bucked his hips into your mouth. Your hand came up to his balls, cupping him with a tender pressure, a throaty moan escaped his lips at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as he let you work your mouth over him.

Pools of saliva gathered at the corners of your mouth, your throat opening to take his whole length as you flattened your tongue against him, the thick vein running up his cock tickling your taste buds as you lost yourself in the motion.

Matts stomach began to tighten, legs twitching periodically and you knew his was close. Before he could unload in your mouth, you pulled off him completely with a pop, earning a desperate whine from Matt who's head shot up at the feeling of your mouth no longer around him.

"why'd you stop?" he whined, eyes trained on your glistening mouth.

you chuckled, rising to straddle him, pumping his wet and sticky cock from behind you as you lined yourself up with his tip.

"I wanna ride you, cowboy" you said seductively, swiping his cock through your puffy folds.

Matt groaned at you taking control, loving when you rode him and loving it even more when you called him silly nicknames like that. He attempted to muster up a witty reply, but his train of thought was cut off by your gummy walls clenching around him as you lowered yourself onto his cock.

Matt let out a blissful sigh, eyes closing at the sensation of being nestled in your warm pussy. You bit down on your lip as he entered you, bringing your hands to rest on his chest as small whimpers left your throat, instinctively grinding your clit down against the small scattering of hair at the base of his cock.

Matts eyes fluttered open, locking with yours as he took in the sight above him, one hand finding your hip as the other tucked behind his head. He loved you like this, needy and desperate to make him feel good, and the sight of you, tits hanging out your dress as it laid bunched up around your hips, steadily bouncing up and down his hard cock, made his head spin.

You leaned forward slightly, pressing your body weight against Matts chest though your palms and you began to shift your ass up and down, dragging your tight walls over his cock as you milked him.

Matts grip on your hip was bruising, him holding you steady as you rode him. His lip was tucked between his perfect teeth, relishing in the sight of you fucking him. Your eyes were closed in pure pleasure, the stretch of your pussy around his cock making you feel lightheaded. His hand came to your ass, kneading at the flesh under your dress, he smacked the fleshy fat, soothing the sting with a massaging touch before repeating his action, spanking you as you bounced on him.

His spanks egged you on, making you feel all the more confident. You opened your eyes and smiled down at him, lip tight between your teeth.

"you look so good like this, pretty girl" He cheesed at you, shaking his head in disbelief that you were his.

You smiled at him, blushing slightly at the compliment as you picked up your pace, causing Matt to moan, his eyes closing as his head craned back into the hay.

"cum inside me, Matt, please, cum for me whilst I ride you" you muttered, your words coming out accompanied by moans, his dick hitting your gummy g-spot as you fucked down onto him harder.

Matt let out a guttural groan, pulling his hand from behind his head and palming your tit, his fingers pressing bruises into your flesh as he maintained heavy eye contact with you though his low hanging lashes.

You picked up your pace, shifting so you were rested on the bottoms of your feet, knees tight against your chest as you fucked him at a relentless pace. Matt couldn't control the noises that left his throat at the new position, the angle letting him hit a deeper spot inside you, your walls tight around his cock as he began to fuck up into you, matching your pace.

The moan that left you was throaty, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Matts balls slapped against your ass with every thrust of his hips, meeting you in the middle as you rode him.

Matts movements began to falter, breathy moans leaving his lips as he kneaded at any exposed flesh of yours he could. You were clenching hard around him, moaning his name, begging him to cum.

He didn't need to be told twice, his hand moved up to cup your jaw, pulling you own into a sloppy kiss as he pressed his cock base deep inside of you, his hips stuttering as he released spurts of white, warm cup into your perfect pussy, filling you up just like you asked. He bit down on your lip as the last remnants of his cum left his tip, coating his dick as you continued to fuck down onto him.

"I love you" he breathed into your open mouth, his whole body relaxing back into the hay.

You followed suit, letting your body weight drop down onto him as the ache of your thighs became instantly prominent, "I love you too" you muttered.

You were both spent, Matt pulling out of you with a hiss as you slumped down onto him, one leg by his side and the other over his hips. He pressed a long kiss into your hair, trailing soft tickles over your arm as you nestled into him, catching your breath on his chest.

The sun was fully set, and the light of the moon was creeping through the cracks in the battered barn walls. Crickets began to chirp outside, the night time wild life coming alive outside the barn doors.

It was a perfect end to a perfect day, and without meaning to, you both fell asleep on the hay, tangled up in one another in the warm embrace of the warm western air.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous

[josephandrewstarkey]

Heyyyy ! Could you do Drew and reader first time … after being a couple for like two months?

ofc!! tysm for your request anon!! 💋

worth the wait

warnings: smut, cussing

words: 869

drew starkey x reader

It had been two blissful months since Y/N and Drew had started dating, but from the beginning, they had taken things slow. Their relationship had grown from deep conversations and laughter-filled moments into something beautiful and meaningful. Y/N had made it clear early on that she wasn’t ready to rush into anything physical, and Drew had been nothing but understanding, patient, and respectful of her boundaries.

It wasn’t that they didn’t have their moments of closeness—there had been plenty of kisses, late-night cuddles, and the quiet intimacy of just being in each other’s company—but they hadn’t crossed that line yet. There had been no pressure, no rush—just the steady build of trust and connection.

But tonight was different.

Y/N had spent the day preparing, her mind made up. She had gone shopping and picked out something special—lingerie that made her feel confident and beautiful. She wanted to show Drew how much he meant to her, how much she trusted him, and tonight, she felt ready.

As Drew walked into the room, he froze at the sight of her standing there, illuminated by the soft light of the bedside lamp. She was wearing the lingerie, a delicate set of lace that hugged her curves in all the right places. His breath hitched, eyes widening in surprise and awe.

“Wow,” he whispered, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving hers. “You look… incredible.”

Y/N felt her heart race as she smiled nervously, but the warmth in his eyes reassured her. She bit her lip, taking a deep breath before finally saying the words that had been on her mind all day. “I’m ready, Drew.”

His expression softened immediately, any trace of surprise replaced by tenderness. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch as light as a feather. “Are you sure?” His voice was low, full of care and concern.

She nodded, her eyes locked on his. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Drew’s hand moved to cradle her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. “I want this to be perfect for you,” he murmured, his forehead resting against hers. “I’ll go slow. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Y/N smiled at his words, her heart swelling with even more love for him. “I know. That’s why I’m ready. Because it’s you.”

He kissed her softly then, his lips warm and reassuring. Slowly, they moved toward the bed, and Drew kept his promise—he was gentle, every touch slow and deliberate. He treated her with such care, like she was something fragile and precious, always checking in, making sure she was okay.

Y/n’s hand reached his erection, slowly massaging it. And before she knew it his boxers were off. His thick, long cock springing out, slapping against his stomach. She stared at it— shocked at the sight in front of her.

“Drew. That’s never going to fit.” she mumbled, looking up at him.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make it fit.” he muttered while pressing kisses against her neck, his fingers running through the soft strands of her hair. She moved to take her panties off, she needed him— badly.

“Drew. Please.” she moaned— eagerly waiting for him. He lined his cock at her entrance, rubbing his tip against her clit. Making her cry out. And without warning he pushed into her, his large wood stretching her out.

“fuck, so tight baby” he groaned in her ear, his arms wrapped around her neck as he started pounding in and out of her. He was so rough yet so gentle.

A loud whimper escaped y/n’s throat as he started rubbing her clit. The hand that was just wrapped around her neck was now covering her mouth, muffling any noise as he started pounding harder and harder into her, his hips snapping against her fast and hard enough to bruise.

Her body singing to his tune, as she was driven higher and higher. Each thrust bringing a delicious tension to her. Each string of her body thrumming in perfect time and pitch, getting closer to that breaking point she knew was coming.

Eyes closed to focus on the growing heat. She was surprised when his hand moved to cup her chin and she felt the delicate press of his mouth against hers.

He shoved his tongue into her mouth, it was magical. She ran her hands along his back feeling his strong muscles shift under her touch as he pulled her closer.

It was all too much, and with a strangled shout of his name she fell to pieces. Shaking violently in his arms, the pleasure drowning everything. As she felt him stutter to a halt, he quickly pulled his cock out as he released all over her stomach.

“fuck” he moaned as he fell on top of her. Their breaths mingling together— his face pressed into her hair, soft words of love being murmured as his breathing began to slow.

——

Afterward, they lay together in the quiet, Drew’s arms wrapped securely around her. He kissed the top of her head, pulling her close. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair.

Y/N smiled, her heart still fluttering. “I love you too.”

And in that moment, as they lay in each other’s arms, Y/N knew that waiting had been worth it. Drew had made their first time together everything she had hoped for—and more.

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

Gojo and Geto with bad bitch Chubby Reader

Guys, I tried to avoid being a Gojo stan...I tried so hard to hate him...but the pull was too strong. He got my ass. He's too silly. He's too cute the little shit. He's too perfect. Geto's great too before he lost his shit and went psycho the two are just too great to pass up.

2024 WILL BE THE YEAR THAT I GET YOU BITCHES TO PREACH STRONG, CONFIDENT, INDEPENDENT but not too independent bc these men are still yummy af CHUBBY READER! No longer will I be insecure about my weight because these men LOVE to see me coming AND going, I can tell you that.

WARNING: Fatphobia (happens when first meeting Gojo & Geto—they’re teens trying to bully Reader, but she handles herself because they’re idiots), A little angst with the small amount of bullying but I hope I made up for it, Cursing

✧༺♥༻✧

Imagine you, Gojo, Geto, and Shoko being classmates and friends during their schooling at Jujutsu High. All of you are powerful threats not to be taken lightly. The boys were undoubtedly freaks of nature with how strong they were—though, you had doubled over laughing alongside Shoko a couple of times when you heard them deem themselves "the strongest duo", as if they were some cool loner wolf types. Shoko was a master in the medicinal field; she made any injury look like a breeze to clean. She'd stitch them up no problem with her cursed energy and send them merrily on their way with a swift kick to their backside.

You definitely have more proficiency with cursed energy usage for combat more so than healing, but you could manage healing yourself just fine. You’d been born into a clan, not as highly revered as the Zenin or Gojo clans but still notable, so you’ve been taught from an early age how to wield cursed energy. Sacrificing yourself for the greater good of the world has been drilled into your head since birth, and you agreed with it. The world’s innocence needs to be protected from the cursed dangers life creates. Sure, there are bad people in the world, but the good people make life worth living. At least, that’s what you choose to believe.

While you’re just a normal—aside from the slight infinite power and jaw-dropping strength—girl, you are different in one more physical way. You’re chubbier than most, and not by a small bit.

Are you insecure about it?

Hell fucking no!

You’re a bad bitch. Fantastic face, banging body, stunning smile, bright eyes, a kind but strong heart, and even a cute butt to top it off. You knew this world inside out with how cruel it could be to plus sized folk, and while you took the beating for far too long without fighting back, you took a couple of steps back a few years ago to look at the situation. Why let people push you around like you didn’t matter? Why let them speak to you like you’re lesser than them simply because you weigh more? You were done being talked to like you were filth underneath their boots.

Since that new perspective, you’ve chosen the road of self love and hands rated E for everyone. You’re kind and sweet to those who reciprocate the respect. To those who try you, you beat their asses with a smile. “Education on Human Decency” is what you’ve begun to call the smackdowns since many want to try casting judgment in snide remarks or sneering looks. They can try these hands instead :)

That’s where Jujutsu High and the headaches you know as Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru fit into this philosophy of yours.

You were homeschooled by your clan in the first year of your sorcery high school. Though, after much begging for a change of scenery and yearning for social interactions other than your family and neighbors, they allowed you to go to a high school centered on jujutsu sorcery the next school year.

When you started Jujutsu High in your second year, that is where you met Shoko, Gojo, and Geto, your classmates. The first thought to cross your mind was how small this crowd was. Sure, it wasn’t like the classes you’ve had before had many students in them either; the world of curses and cursed energy wasn’t exactly a booming population to start with, especially when every year is the same class roster composed of the few brothers and sisters you had. Considering that, three new faces was much better than before! You introduced yourself with a joyful tone and an eager handshake.

You started with Shoko since she was the only other girl. You’re glad you did. Shoko, who you originally thought would be tricky to get along with since she gave off “rebel” vibes with that unlit cigarette dangling from her lips and you were nothing of the sort, held a grin and took your handshake with grace. She told you she liked your spunk, that it was nice to be around another girl rather than more stinking boys. You agreed with her with a relieved sigh. You two shared a laugh and chatted some more, each of you discussing your thoughts of the school and figuring out your mutual interests.

Soon enough, you were interrupted by someone giving a very noticeable and forced cough behind you. You turned and were met with two boys, one with jet black hair and a sly grin and the other one with silvery moonlight colored strands sharing the same expression hidden behind circular sunglasses. The white haired boy was leaning heavily on the black haired boy with one arm propped on his shoulder as the black-haired boy crossed his arms in front of himself. Seems like the two are close. No matter.

You stuck your hand out, another smile—admittedly, this one was a little more forced than the one you shared with Shoko—and gave your name. Suguru was the first to bite. He grabbed your hand with a smooth, warm grip, and exchanged his name. His shake felt sincere, though the cunning smirk still laid on his lips.

You tried to shake the other boy’s hand after letting Suguru go, but he decided otherwise. He swiftly with no mercy said he wasn’t going to shake hands with the likes of “you”. You raised an eyebrow, already sensing the insult he would try to hurl at you. One thing bullies are is predictable. None of them have any creative bone in their body, they’re like leeches, in a way. Mooching off other clever remarks they’ve heard used before through the Internet or their idiot friends. Though, they alway reproduce it much shitter than the first time they heard it.

He leaned in with a smile and yapped about how if he touches you, some of your fat might rub off on him. Gojo tries to drag Geto into bullying you too by shamelessly asking if Geto is worried that will happen to him now that he’s so brazenly touched you. As much as you wanted Suguru to be his own person, to be better than the loser clinging to him like a koala, he chimed in that while Gojo’s afraid of that, that that could never happen to him. He sneered while looking down at you that he actually has the discipline to keep the weight off. The two of them share an evil snicker together.

Oh, so that’s how they wanna play it.

Okay. You don’t mind showing a bitch their place.

As Shoko pipes up and tells them to shut the hell up, you stop her. You give her a kind smile that says “I love you, but please back the fuck up as I rock these bitches world”. Her eyebrows jump up in surprise, but she gives you a nod. She quiets down.

You choose to laugh with them. They slowly shut their mouths, finding laughing at you not that funny when you don’t crumple under their taunts like they’d expected. You then explain to them that what you find so funny is that punks like them are so easy to read and, subsequently, ruin. You told them they need to find better insults to steal if they wanna cackle like they’re some kind of drunk hyenas and, unless they get more creative, they’re not worth the air they take from others. You turned to walk away, but since you just couldn’t help yourself, you gave the both of them a swift kick to the chest. Unprepared for the action, they both were sent careening back, but remained standing. You also snarkily nagged that being “undisciplined in weight loss” gave you the extra weight to knock their scrawny asses back that far.

Shoko gave you a hearty high five while laughing at them getting what they deserve. Gojo, though baffled at your defiance, is ready to start throwing punches, as he spews half-assed insults left and right. Geto manages to keep his thoughts to himself, but you do note his expression has definitely become sour. This little scrap is swiftly interrupted by your new teacher, Masamichi Yaga, when he enters and orders the class to settle down. He also snuffs Gojo’s babbling tantrum with a merciless smack to his forehead.

You give a small grin stuck your tongue out at the two when Mr. Masamichi turned his back. From then on, it was war.

You, Geto, and Gojo fought constantly in the beginning

When they (mostly Gojo now) tried to stir shit with you, you’d fling their rudeness right back at them

Whether they tried to pick on your weight, or cheery personality, or strength (which they couldn’t make too much fun off since you were only a little less strong than they were, but so was everyone else compared to their insane powers), you were always ready to kick their asses

You didn’t resent them for their teasing, mostly since you had a good head on your shoulders and you know that Gojo’s only deflecting all the shit he hates about himself onto other people, but they sure got on your nerves sometimes

So, you decided soon into your acquaintance with these dopes that instead of simply beating their asses every time they said some wack shit and never correcting the behavior, you’re going put an end to their bullying of based on others appearances

Because, who knows. You have enough self love and confidence to defend yourself against their rude remarks, but not everyone does. What happens if they target other plus sized people who maybe can’t or won’t defend themselves?

So, when they’d try to make fun of you, you’d correct them with sincerity and help them understand why that would hurt to someone

Geto pretty much never made a passing comment like that again towards you. You’re happy to see that change in him

Gojo huffed and puffed after what he called “your lecture”, but you also saw change in him

After that, it was slow progress to all be friends

Shoko and you were doing great! Hanging out outside of school, dragging her along with you to do some window shopping, eating a sit down lunch together, going to the nearest bookstore, grabbing a yummy sweet treat, stargazing—you did it all together!

She always made a fuss that she had “no interest” in what you would force her to do, but you could secretly tell she liked doing girly stuff together. As long as she could have a smoke break in between these hang outs, she was all good

The first time you, Geto, and Gojo made a recovery in your rocky relationship was when they asked if they could come along with the two of you to get a treat together

You were a bit hesitant to share the thing that brings you joy with the two people who tried to make you the butt of the joke, but you threw them bone and agreed

You four walked down the sidewalk, mostly you chit chatting with Shoko, when Gojo butted his way into the conversation at your mention of Kikufuku.

You and him bonded over your mutual love of the delicate, bouncy sweet treat and you watched as his eyes sparkled like a little kid when you said the place you were going to had an excellent Kikufuku

You know, when Gojo isn’t being a menace, he’s actually nice to share a conversation with

Geto teased Gojo for his astounding sweet tooth, and explained to you an embarrassing story of Gojo losing his mind one time when a dog stole one of his dorayaki treats and ran off

You laughed as Gojo tried to hit Geto as payback for sharing the “secret” but Geto fended off his flailing

Maybe I'll come back to this idea one day when I'm not hung up on the bullying. If you guys like this idea, I might continue it with less bullying. I am a baby when it comes to angst lol. I really do love these boys, I just don't think my heart is ready for the subject matter I wrote.

✧༺♥༻✧

[writercole]

I Can Fix Him

Summary: Rivals with benefits turns into something…more.

Words: 1700ish

Warnings: 18+. NSFW. Brat taming, rough sex, orgasm denial, breeding kink, condescension

Credits: No beta; @clairewritesandrambles for the encouragement.

A/N: I…I don’t know where this came from. I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what the word sorry means in this case because I am not.

“What did you say?” 

Scott’s voice echoed through the room despite the quiet way he spoke. It boomed in your ears and you fought the urge to smile.

“I’m pretty sure you heard me. Or is your hearing gone, too?”

It had been one of the longest days on record, definitely one of the longest in your history with Scott Miller, MIT graduate and royal pain in your ass. He was brilliant, there was no denying it. But his people skills were…rusty. 

He stalked forward like a tiger protecting his pride, muscles tense and coiled to strike at the right moment. He stopped just short of standing on your shoes and glared down at you, his eyes dark and clouded. “Apologize.”

The growl sent a shiver down your spine. You suppressed it as best as you could, raising your chin defiantly as you met his fiery gaze. “No.”

The chuckle surprised you, rumbling deep from his chest. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you. I think it’s time we put it to good use.” 

Before you could retort, his large hand forced your jaw open and his tongue pushed into your mouth. This wasn’t a new thing with the two of you; rivals with benefits would perfectly describe your relationship if you weren’t forced to be a partner to him.

Your body melted into him and he dropped his hand from your jaw to your ass, his beefy arms lifting you with ease and backing you against the wall, keeping you at his near six and a half foot tall face instead of stooping down to move his lips against yours. 

You were suddenly glad you’d chosen the skirt today.

Scott’s thick torso pressed you against the wall as his hands slid under your dress. He found your core covered with a pair of cotton panties and he growled, pulling back. 

“Why do you wear underwear when you know I’m going just going to fuck the brat out of you?”

“I can’t make it that easy for you, Scotty.” The sneer on his lips before he ripped a hole in your crotch was worth whatever else came from calling him by the nickname he despised. 

“You’re going to pay for that.” 

His hands deftly unbuckled his belt and pulled his thick cock out, stroking it a few times before dropping you down the wall a few inches to press the head of his cock against your dripping entrance. A raise of his eyebrow conveyed all of the questions that came with this situation; a slight nod gave him the answer.

He thrust inside of you in one swift motion and you tipped your head back against the wall, moaning loudly and not caring if anyone could hear you.

He stayed still for a long moment. It was easy to think that he was letting you adjust to his size but you knew better. You squirmed against him in an attempt to get friction until his hands pinned your hips down.

“Tsk, tsk. You know what you need to do.”

“Scott, come on,” you huffed.

“Is that what you want? I’ll gladly paint your face. But if you want something else, you’ve got to put that poisoned tongue to work. Beg for it.”

Your mouth closed and you stared him down, both of you too stubborn to give in at the moment. Seconds ticked by and neither of you relented. Then he shrugged and started to step back.

“I guess I am painting your face then.”

“No, Scott, wait,” you rushed out. You squeezed your eyes shut and clutched his shoulders, gritting your teeth as you said the next words. “Please, Scott. Please, I need your cock. I need you to fuck me.”

“I think you can do better than that,” he tutted. Adjusting his grip, he slid you down the wall half an inch more until your clit was pressed against him, giving you that delicious pressure without any friction to go with it.

“Scott, please. I need it. I need you.”

“You need what?”

“I need you to fuck me.”

“Fuck your face?”

“No! You know what I need you to do!”

“Fuck your hands until I come on your tits?”

“Scott!” you shrieked, desperation dripping from your words. 

“Tell me or I walk away and deal with it myself,” he threatened. “I probably won’t even need to spit on it. You’re soaking my cock enough that I can probably use that and get off in a couple of minutes.”

“Scott, I need you to fuck my wet pussy with your thick cock. Please, Scott, please, I’m begging, I’ll do anything.” 

“Good enough,” he smirked and started thrusting, long, slow, deep thrusts, dragging against your inner walls, letting you feel every ridge, every vein.

You moaned and keened, nails scrambling against that dress shirt trying to find something, anything to ground you.

“Not so talkative now, hmm? Maybe I should knock you up, keep you too busy stuffing your face full of ice cream and pizza to run that mouth of yours.”

Scott had long exploited your enjoyment of dirty talk and his condescension but this was the first time he tapped into this particular kink, this certain phrasing. And it had you clenching around him as your first orgasm washed over you.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” he cooed as he sped up. “Little brat wants to be bred.”

“Yes, yes, oh my god.” Your chants became more rhythmic as your second release built deep within you.

You shouted when he stopped. “Scott, I was so close.”

“Oh, I know.” His mocking tone sent a shock through your core and your walls spasmed, an involuntary moan exiting his mouth. “You’ll come on my cock when I’m good and ready for you to.”

“Please, please, Scott, please don’t make me wait.”

“Where’s the fun in that, hmm?” Two long, slow thrusts drew hums of satisfaction from deep within his chest - and needy whines from  your mouth.

“Scott!”

“You know what you should do if you want me to speed up.”

“Scott, please, I need it faster.”

“Need what?”

“I need you to fuck me faster. I need to come on your cock. I need to -”

Your words were cut off when a particularly deep and hard thrust punched the air from your lungs. Scott chased after his release like a man possessed, faster and faster.

“You need me faster now? Is this good?”

“Yes!”

“Do you want me to come?”

“Please, Scott, fill me up. I want you to make me a cum dumpster!”

“How about I make you a mother?”

“Please, breed me. Please!” Your voice broke as tears fell from your eyes. It was so good, so intense. You needed every part of him, all of it. 

“There’s my good little girl,” he chanted. “God you’d look so good with a round belly. Growing my baby. You want that? Yeah, you want that. Let’s make that happen. Let go. It’s okay. Milk my cock. Make me come.”

Your release hit hard. Your vision went white and your ears rang. You were vaguely aware of Scott’s grunts and praise as he sank his cock deep inside, his hands clutching your ass for dear life as he spilled every drop of his seed in you.

You leaned against his chest panting and he stepped forward to press you further against the wall, holding the both of you up with the tension in his hips and abs. Your chests heaved with heavy breaths as your hearts returned to normal and your minds cleared.

It was then that you processed what you had agreed to, begged for. It was then that you realized that he had, in fact, not used a condom this time. And it was then that you realized you were actually okay with the idea. 

A baby with Scott? It wouldn’t be easy. But you had time to whip him into shape.

He pulled out and set you down on the floor before tucking himself back into his pants and avoiding your gazing. “You, uh, you need to clean up or something?” 

“Scott, look at me.”

“I mean, I gotta -”

You wrapped your hand around his wrist and stood in front of him, forcing yourself into his line of sight. “Shouldn’t we talk about what just happened?”

“It’s not the first time we fucked.”

“It is the first time you said some of those things. And the first time neither of us remembered a condom.”

“It’s not a big deal. Heat of the moment,” he shrugged.

“You won’t even look at me.”

He turned and looked at you for the first time since he pulled out of your pussy. You almost thought he was…embarrassed? But that couldn’t be right. “Scott?”

“What do you want me to say, huh? That you are on my mind day and night? That your teasing is the best part of my day? That I’m not sorry about what I said while I was balls deep inside of you because it’s the truth? Is that what you want to hear?”

“Is…is that the truth?”

He sighed heavily and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

“What if I want something more with you?”

His head tilted and he looked over at you, brows knitting together and jaw dropping. “Huh?”

“What if,” you repeated as you stepped into his space, “I wanted something more with you? What if I would be okay with having a baby with you? If you showed me you could be a good partner.”

“You want that?”

“I do. And I didn’t know it until just now.”

“You want that…with me?”

“Is that hard to believe?”

“Have you met me? I’m kind of an asshole,” he admitted.

“Eh, I can fix that.” A grin spread across your face as you looked up into his face. 

“Fix that, huh? Maybe I could work on that. For you.” A soft smile crossed his lips and his hand cupped your cheek before he leaned down and kissed you softly. 

“So does this mean I’m your brat?”

“Yep. My brat to fuck whenever I want. My brat to breed. My brat to date and love and maybe marry one day.”

[nina-ya]

A/N: Hi!! I wanted to get back into the groove of writing regularly again with something short and sweet like this. I did plan on doing this for other characters as well! Pairing: Luffy x reader CW: none WC: ~500 Other Versions: Luffy Zoro (more to come) • masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Loving Luffy is loving your best friend. It is the comfort of knowing that he will always have your back, no matter where life takes you. He is one of the only people who truly just sees you for who you are and never expects you to be anything but your truest self. With him, there’s no putting on an act, there’s no facade with him, there’s just a raw and unfiltered companionship. Luffy will always laugh with you, always fight alongside you, and always hold you in those moments of quiet when the world slows down because he knows that you are always meant to be by his side. 

Loving Luffy is understanding that his love may be wordless at times, but it’s far from empty. He stays away from grand declarations and shows it in the ways he always lets you wear his hat or how he shares the last bite of his food with you. It’s those small, simple gestures that say more than words ever could. His love is the pure and untamed essence of who he is.

It’s the way he rests his head on your shoulder, that brief pause where he is not the future King of the Pirates, just Luffy. In those moments you get to see the man behind all the bravado, the one who sometimes just needs the quiet comfort of someone who understands him. It’s in the way that he absentmindedly traces patterns on your arm or the way he learns into you when he’s feeling sleepy, trusting you with a vulnerability he tends to hide from the world.

Loving Luffy is embracing the mayhem and unpredictability that comes with being with a man of his nature. It’s knowing that you might be yanked to another one of his adventures with no warning or finding yourselves in the middle of an escape from anyone that threatens your freedom, yet you never once question if you’ll make it out because Luffy is by your side.

Loving Luffy is knowing that no day is ever the same, and yet each one is as unforgettable as the last. He wakes up with that infectious grin on his face, ready to take on what the world might hold for him. He never needs a plan, only the belief that whatever the day holds is an adventure worth having. 

Loving Luffy is laughing until your sides hurt, dancing under the stars with no particular rhythm, staring at each other with smiles that make your cheeks hurt, and holding hands just because. It’s freedom. It’s wild. And it’s knowing that even when he runs off chasing his next adventure, he’ll always pull you along for the ride. 

Loving Luffy is learning to love yourself more. He sees you in a way that no one else does, stripping away each and every insecurity, every doubt, every fear, and reminding you that you are more than perfect the way you are. There’s no room for second-guessing or self criticism. He looks at you as if you are the most important person in the world, cherishing you and holding you close to his heart even when he’s too busy chasing his dreams to say it out loud. 

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [3]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but what you can't do is accept the fact that they're your soulmates.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory

Words: 8.8k

ao3 is down so I'll update it first here. Chapter got delayed since this wasn't originally part of the roster. its currently 1am so there will be mistakes I missed but that's for future Winter's problem.

edit: please comment if you want to be added to the tag list :DD

[1] [2] [3]

__________

For a guy with his heart on his sleeves and his emotions displayed so loudly on his face like neon signs with gigantic arrows, Taehyung is an enigma.

It didn’t help that he had experience in acting, if anything it made it harder to understand him.

One moment he's supportive of your quest for a perfect husband then another, he's raging with a jealousy even the power of the thousand burning suns couldn't replicate. Even when Guwon has long disappeared, Taehyung didn't stop from hanging off of your arm when the three of you had entered your home. 

In the short time they had stayed over, he made sure he was somehow close to you or having you within his sight while Jimin returned to being the sweet boy he had always presented himself as but the glint of something dark in his eyes never disappeared.

But it didn't make any sense. All of their behaviors, even Jimin, is confusing.

Taehyung had introduced a date to the group before, and had hooked up with a few people from the after-parties if the others’ words were anything to go by. Jimin is the same, although he took every chance to flirt with you at any time and everywhere, you always thought it was him being his playful self. But after last night?

You don't know.

And you hate not knowing.

To find out that Jin still liked you was shocking already, then comes this new realization—along with the impacts of Jungkook’s confession—to knock you off of your feet. You thought he had moved on like he had said years before, but last night's conversation had told you otherwise.

“That's the tenth time I've heard you sigh just this hour alone and we're only drinking coffee, what’s wrong?”

Your head shot up to meet the concerned gaze of the oldest make-up artist. Jihae is one of the original staff back from 2013, the woman who had picked you up when you tripped in front of the BigHit building crying with your bag spilled out, having been given a low grade in one of your subjects. 

They were lacking in staff back then, urgently searching for another body to help with the debut look and when she saw your cosmetic bag, she tugged you inside and told you to agree with whatever they were going to ask. 

Stunned, you followed the woman without question.

A month later, you dropped out of the nursing course your mother had insisted you take and pursued cosmetology.

Many times have you looked back at the memory and grimaced. It could've gone wrong, she might've been leading you into a trafficking ring but nonetheless, you're glad you had accepted it.

All because Jihae had seen you with mascara-stained tears and somehow deemed you skilled enough for the job. Up until today, you still wonder what she had seen in an emotional teenager who had comically tripped face-first in the company’s front yard, mascara running down her face and thought: ‘She’d be a good addition’ . 

Whatever it is, you're thankful. 

“Hey, you still with us?”

Snapping out of your trance, you wearily smiled at her. “Yes I am, unnie. Just frustrated about something...”

At this, multiple heads turned to you, their stares a varying mix of curiosity and teasing. Suddenly reminded of the group lunch Jihae had proposed that day, a bonding exercise for the entire make-up artists roster, for better teamwork, she had said and internally facepalmed. You had forgotten that it wasn't just your friends sitting on the table with you and you had just aired your problem out in the open for them to hear.

Fuck Kim Taehyung and his confusing attitude. You should beat his ass next time you see him for being the catalyst to the dilemma haunting your mind.

Leaning closer to you, Nabi—another friend of yours—crossed her arms and flashed a shit-eating grin.

“Is it boy problems?”

Instantly, the table explodes into chatters, all of their questions drowning each other.

“Which one of them?”

“Did someone from Bangtan confess to you, unnie?”

“Is it Hoseok? Please say it is! I have a bet with someone from the styling department.”

“Was it Taehyung? I always thought he had a crush on you for a whi—”

“It's not any of them, please we're just friends.” You interjected before they dig further and find truth in their questions. “It's a different guy I've had two dates with.”

Never had you sounded more unsure of yourself until now and you had wished nobody had noticed. But one look around the table says differently. Your friends’ eyes glinted, all of them telling you that this discussion was far from over and you find yourself already dreading opening the groupchat once you're home. But unlike them, someone wasn't satisfied with your answer and crossed her arms from the other end of the table.

“Why so dismissive, unnie? We're all friends here, no need to be so defensive.”

Immediately, the ones closest to her snapped their heads at her with a scandalized look. Alexa was a new recruit, A half-Korean and half-Chinese who lived in the States for a better half of her life, had just joined the week before the first leg when one of the crew went into labor and had recommended her cousin as her last minute replacement until she could return.

In the short time she had been in the company, there had been whispers and none of them were positive. Rumors of an unhealthy obsession hidden beneath the skillfully applied make-up that granted her a younger and cuter appearance, hushed stories of their encounters where she'd reveal her soulmate mark—inked initials, and written on her wrist is a K.S.J, something she boasted around with a smug look, as if to imply something you refuse to entertain.

It was absurd. 

Seokjin was untethered, if he got a soulmate mark out in the open, he would've screamed it on top of the world. Delighted and in cloud nine at the thought of having someone destined for him. Not to mention, it meant that he didn't need to go through any of the shit you've gone through, going through dates after dates looking for someone better to settle down with only to be met with constant disappointment at the end of the day.

(You'd also be the first to know. He would've ran to you and asked if you manifested a mark too, but for your sanity, you pushed the thought at the back of your head as soon as it came.)

To say, to imply that Seokjin’s soulmate is the kid on the side of the table, it almost made you grimace.

“Hey Alexa, I know you're just new and a foreigner but that doesn't mean we'd let you disrespect your seniors!” Minhyuk, someone who had quickly wormed into your friend group last year, had jumped to your defense.

Alexa scoffed. “I'm just saying, no need to be so secretive, unnie. Everyone in this table knows how close Bangtan is to you. Everyone is wondering if you've at least dated one of them.”

“Hey Alexa, that's a bit…”

“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I'm just saying what you're all thinking,” She looks back at you. “I've seen how they look at you, surely you've at least had a fling with someone.”

Your brows shot up, incredulous and shocked by her audacity but before you could bite back, Minhyuk stood abruptly, face darkened with pure unadulterated anger.

“Oh this—” Nabi and you were quick to tug him back down to sit. 

At the commotion, everyone in the cafeteria shifted their attention to your table, inquisitive and curious of what might've set off the resident social butterfly, someone who everyone knows the name of and has been at the end of his constant kindness.

Minhyuk is a passionate soul, especially towards his job and friends. Having been kicked out for being himself, he turned to the very skill that had his father screaming expletives at him. Recommended by Jihae, who had been visiting a nearby friend at the time and was passing by his street, had found him crying in the rain, outside the gate of his family house. She had taken him home and the rest was history.

There's never been a time when you've all hung out, five emptied bottles of Sojus later, where he wouldn't be crying, thankful for the chance your eldest had given him before turning to you, sobbing loudly and hugging you and the rest of the group in a tight grip. Heart full of gratefulness for his new found family.

So there was no shock that he had been the first one to jump at the first sign of aggression towards your group.

“Everyone is looking, hyuk. Let's calm down.” Nabi whispered to him, eyes cautious and Minhyuk grunted.

“She's lucky we're in public, I would've torn her down for that comment.”

At the end of the table, Alexa scoffed, incredulous. “Are you seriously mad that I'm saying my opinion? Is it a crime to express their own opinion these days?”

“Not when it's as rude as yours.”

Jihae sighs. “Calm down the both of you. Remember that you're working right now.”

You didn't doubt that everyone in the company has speculated about your relationship with Bangtan. It's hard not to when the maknaes hang onto your words and comfortably play around with you, especially not when you have dinner at their dorm every other week so you didn't blame the newbie for being curious.

That's what you would've felt if she hadn't been going around planting ideas into people's heads that she might be Jin’s soulmate like the delusional slug she is.

You had half a mind to loosen your grip on Minhyuk and let him wipe the floor with her unnecessarily expensive work clothes.

Shrugging both your and Nabi’s arms from his, Minhyuk stands up again only to walk away from the table. Instantly, the rest of your group follows him as he marches through the gathered crowd in the cafeteria and in front of the closed elevator.

You trailed behind him, waiting for his eventual frustrated explosion as he always does after an encounter with Alexa since she was hired. Once you were all far enough, hidden away from the prying eyes of the public, he threw his head back and let out a loud, exasperated groan.

“That girl I fucking swear!” He growled as combed his long hair back. “Why did we even let her continue working after the tour?! We could've just found a better alternative, she's getting into my fucking nerves!”

Nabi sighed. “It's not like we have a final say in this, hyuk. Whether you like it or not, we'll be stuck with her until Hyuna comes back.”

“God,” He groaned. “You should've let me hit her once! I'm so tired of hearing her bullshit! Surely, you've heard the lie she's spreading around right?!”

“Like Nabi has said, we can't do anything unless it starts to hurt the reputation of the idol. She's smart for not saying it outright and somehow containing it within the styling departments.” Jihae responds with a defeated shake of her head.

The answer didn't satisfy Minhyuk, who then turned to you with a pout and wide puppy eyes before promptly stomping over and taking both your hands in his.

“Surely you can pull some strings, noona? Tattle off to Namjoon hyung or Seokjin hyung, surely one of them would do something, right?”

You almost considered his suggestion. Alexa had been grating your gears ever since she arrived to replace Hyuna. You had excused her lack of cooperation with the team for being a newbie and clumsy mistakes of haphazardly leaving her items everywhere for the stress of the new environment she was suddenly put in. But for her to go around implying Seokjin is her soulmate is another can of worms you didn't even want to open.

The mere thought of her existing on the same floor as Seokjin invokes an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

But unfortunately, even if you had tattled to Namjoon about her, nothing would happen since it's not too drastic of an event to fire someone over for. It's also just not a good idea overall. The tour is set next Wednesday and while Alexa doesn't cooperate with most of the team, she unfortunately got the skill to back her up. Her skills nearly compensate for her rude personality.

Almost.

“They won't fire someone over a small argument, Hyuk. Just suck it in until Hyuna returns.”

“Which will be in December after Japan,” He mulls it over before shaking his head. “Yeah no, I don't think I can tolerate her nasty ass that long.”

The elevator opens—Jihae had called it the moment they've arrived, bless her—and everyone piles in. It was a quick ride, the stylists being on the floor below the cafeteria. In a flash the metal doors parts opened and you all walked out. But before you could follow your friends back into your department, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

Slowing down, you pulled the device out and looked at who's texting you.

           [13:02] Hobi: can ask you a favor

           [13:02] Hobi: just an itsy bitsy favor 🤏🤏

           [13:02] Hobi: I promise it's harmless😁

There's also a text from Guwon not too long ago. Something you missed while you were lost in your thoughts earlier.

           [12:30] Guwon: Eat your lunch soon!

           [13:03] You: hi sorry late reply, I was having lunch with my co-workers, couldn’t use my phone during.

           [13:03] You: I hope your lunch was good😁

You briefly grimaced at how robotic your reply sounded before returning to Hoseok who had sent another text.

           [13:03] Hobi: don't leave me on seen please😢

           [13:03] Hobi: noona noona noona noona noona

           [13:04] You: hoba hoba hoba hoba hoba

           [13:04] Hobi: YAY

           [13:04] You: how can I help you?

           [13:05] Hobi: can you deliver lunch to hyung?😁

           [13:05] Hobi: I would do it myself but I'm currently helping Seokjin hyung and Namjoon with the dance

           [13:06] Hobi: and we both know Yoongi hyung wouldn't eat on time if I do it

           [13:06] Hobi: can you do it for me?🥺

           [13:06] You: sure, you guys still in the dance practice room?

           [13:07] Hobi: ur a life saver

           [13:07] Hobi: an angel in disguise

           [13:07] Hobi: but yes😁

           [13:08] Hobi: just knock on the door when you're here😁

“Y/N?” Jihae asks and you look back up to see your group waiting for you.

“Who is it?” Nabi adds.

“Better be news of Alexa getting fired. If not, I don't want to hear it.” Minhyuk says as he crosses his arms. You shook your head and he threw his hands up in frustration.

“Got asked to help with something but I'll be back in a moment.”

With a brief goodbye, you turned back to the elevator and directed yourself to the floor where the dance practice rooms are at. 

The walking distance from the elevator is not too far from the dance room but seeing five familiar teenage boys speaking in hushed whispers and hitting each other's arms in front of the vending machine just a feet away from the door easily distracted you.

If they had been crowding around the machine, you would've thought they were fighting over the last snack but instead they were all facing the same direction as your destination.

Sneaking up to the five giants, you're slowly introduced to the dilemma they were hitting and pushing each other for.

“You're the oldest, you should go and knock!”

“Just because I'm the oldest doesn't mean I should always be the first! Why are you even ordering me around?! Go ask Huening Kai instead!”

“Why me? I can't talk in Korean, I-I’m foreigner .”

“Oh don't you pull that shit on us. How are you only a foreigner when it matters?!”

“What are we talking about?”

Three shrill screams pierced through the air as the five of them jumped back, awkwardly long bodies falling against and clutching onto each other for dear life, all of them huddling onto the next body for protection. But once they recognize you, Yeonjun immediately regains composure and breaks off from the cluster to stomp over to you with his bottom lip jut out as he dramatically latches onto your arm.

“Noonaa, why would you scare us like that?!”

When you first met Yeonjun, he was standing in front of the cafeteria bar in front of the exhausted cashier and the long irritated line of workers, peering up onto the menu before looking down to count his money. He looked like a little kid lost in the sea of busy adults, painfully alone and helpless as the hungry customers behind him began to complain loudly.

He had been holding up the line as he recounted his change once more, hoping he had miscounted and that he could afford what he was eyeing. Seeing his hopeful expression crumble into defeat was enough to make you approach him and buy him lunch. 

Yoongi had teased you when he found you being trailed by another kid, saying you were collecting every doe eyed kid in the company and becoming their reliable older sister. Especially when his soulmates began to follow his footsteps.

“What were you guys doing? Fighting against who gets the last chip?”

Beomgyu then ran to wrap his arms around yours, the sweetest and most innocent smile plastered on his face as the two boys began to walk you forward, the destination? The dance studio.

“You know that we love you right, noona?”

Why these kids are genuinely intimidated by your sweet Hoba is beyond you. The man screams and flinches at the smallest of bugs daring to exist two feet away from him. Still, you entertained them with a raise of an eyebrow and Yeonjun continued.

“Our favorite make-up noona, the greatest sister figure we have ever had, my savior and my salvation, our dearest credit—”

“Okay, what do you guys want?”

You all stopped in front of the dance room door. IDOL was blasting on the other side of the wall, the floor vibrating with the beat. Although muffled, you could pick up the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor and heavy footsteps accompanying the song.

“Could you pretty please knock on the door?” Beomgyu asks, pleading and also hopeful and the rest of his brothers chimed from behind you with their own versions of the request which ended up sounding like a bunch of warbled words.

“Couldn't you have done that yourselves?”

“But they're busy and J-Hope sunbae is scary.” Taehyun quietly adds behind you.

“Hoba? He's the sweetest though?”

“Okay, let's not lie to ourselves now,” Huening Kai shoots back before motioning to the door. “Just… knock and we'll handle it from there. We promise!”

“Cross our hearts.” Taehyun says, drawing  a cross over his chest. The other four follow.

Dance teacher Hoseok to you is a hoax. You've never been subjected to his intense scrutiny and harsh perfectionist side, always managing to slip past or only being able to meet him outside of the workplace where he'd be far relaxed and cheerful. 

Sure there's been plenty of photographic and recorded evidence posted in the group chat but you still find it hard to believe he's more frightening than the bugs that scare him off the room.

“He's not that scary, guys.”

Taehyun scoffs. “Easy for you to say.”

“Crush privileges.” Soobin quietly adds.

“What—”

The door swings open before you could ask what he meant and Jungkook steps out of the room. 

In a span of a second, the memories of his drunken confession flashed before your eyes. From the moment he had entered your home with bags of snacks to the way his voice had sounded, hushed and shaky, when he asked you for a kiss.

Seeing him again outside the concert where Namjoon and Yoongi had made sure there were no contacts between the two of you, evoked a weird sense of longing within you. Having absolutely no contact with Jungkook for two days had you missing and recollecting your past memories with him. In the short amount of time you've been away, you wondered about many things.

From something as headache-inducing variations of hows and whys questioning his attraction to you to something more simple and short like ‘how is he feeling right now?’.

It was a dumb question with an obvious answer yet you wanted to know. Curiosity and anxiety clawing at your chest. 

Is your friendship still okay? 

Did rejecting someone this time finally ruin your entire dynamic with the group? 

Should you have chosen someone as your sister had told you to do? 

They have plagued your mind and haunted you in your waking days yet the moment you finally see him, your mouth dries up and your voice dies in your throat.

But before you could even muster the courage to talk to him, he turned his attention to the boys who had retreated behind you the moment the door opened and greeted them with a short bow before walking away, completely ignoring you. Pain blooms in your chest like a thorned vine wrapping and strangling your heart tighter and tighter as you watch his back disappear around the corner.

“Did sunbae just ignore noona?”

“Is that even possible?”

“I didn't hallucinate that, right?”

“Noona, are you okay?” Soobin’s concerned voice, soft and cautious, brings you back to reality and you turn to them, a precariously built smile on your face.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The five shared a look as you stepped into the studio, exposing you to the two figures laid on the floor, heaving and panting. The main topics of your thoughts sitting at the far corner next to the black plastic table while Hoseok stood in the middle of the room, unaffected by whatever had happened and was chugging the water from the small bottle in hand.

As if he had grown a sixth sense for you, he suddenly spun around, a wide grin brightening his stern face.

“Noona!”

At this, the two men on the floor perks up. Namjoon merely waves before promptly dropping back down, Jimin and Taehyung only smiled at you, looking spent from whatever routine Hoseok had them do before turning to the two tallest. Seokjin had pushed himself up to stand and approach the black plastic table from the other end of the room where a dozen take outs were.

As Hoseok approached you, his gaze then found the cluster of five heads peeking through the sides of the entrance and laughed.

“You’ve got five ducklings following you, noona, didn't know you started collecting more after our maknaes.” He jokes before turning to the teens and waving them over. The group then spread to occupy the space in the doorway and bowed. “What can I do for you guys?”

They suddenly disappear behind the wall but you hear them hitting each other and their whisper-shouts, it took a long while before Soobin was pushed out of the shadow and forced to talk to their sunbae. The painfully shy teen shuffles over, shoulders folded forward and taking the smallest of steps forward before stuttering a bow.

A wide smile brightens Hoseok's face, endeared by the boy’s overly formal actions.

“H-Hi sunbae.”

“Hello, Soobinie.”

“We-we we're just wondering if we-we could watch you guys? Practicing dancing I mean—Not that you sunbaes need it cause you're professionals!—I mean of course you still need to practice to be better at dancing and—wait no—”

“ Yah Soobin, stop embarrassing us like this!” Yeonjun scolds and immediately, the boy almost broke his neck with how face he looked over his shoulder.

“Then go do it yourself!”

“We don't mind, as long as you guys stay in a corner like good kids then we'll all be good!” Hoseok cuts in before an argument ensues.

There's a tap on your shoulder and you look over to see Seokjin standing behind you, a gentle smile playing on his plush lips, both hands hidden behind him.

There's an awkwardness that hung in the air as you both gazed into each other's eyes before he cleared his throat and began.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Yes.” You lie. Jin caught it.

Turning to face him fully, he then takes one of your hands and forces your fingers to hold the neatly folded top of a paper takeout bag.

“I've packed Yoongi’s portion here as well as an extra for you.”

“You didn't need to, I already ate.”

“I even had them order some soft tofu soup, you were craving it last week, right?”

It was sweet being loved so selflessly by him. It tasted like the sweetest nectar from the garden of Eden with a foul aftertaste once your mind reminded you of your sins against the man and the thorned tendrils of guilt coiled tighter around your chest, its sourness easily overlapping the sweetness of his love.

After Jungkook pretending you didn't exist earlier, having Jin, someone who you didn't even know still admired you all these years while you had messed around with many faces and came to work with some of their marks on your skin, expressing his care had you almost bursting at the seams. 

It enrages you thinking about Alexa going around spreading her bullshit spiel about being Jin’s soulmate. As if she deserved a morsel of his attention.

Nobody deserves Seokjin, not even you.

“Thank you Jinnie, but I already ate.” You then remembered your promise to return to your friends soon. “And Jihae is expecting me back immediately.”

“Coffee and toast is not lunch.” He deadpans as he takes your hand and forces it to close around the pack. “Just eat it with Yoongi, he'd be happy to be able to eat with someone and I’ll handle Jihae noona.”

“How the hell did you know what I had for lunch?”

Shock crossed over his face and he brought a hand over his mouth. “I was right? I just had a hunch on what you ate.”

“That’s a bit creepy, old man.”

“Maybe it’s a soulmate mark manifesting.” He shrugs but you doubt he meant it in a joking way.

“You’re way past the age, give it up hyung.” 

You both turned to the door at Jungkook’s voice. Like earlier, he had strode in without acknowledging your presence, something Seokjin had noticed immediately. His eyes slid to the five boys tentatively pushing each other to the empty corner of the studio before looking back at their youngest.

“How could you insult me like this? I fed you with my hands, you should be addressing me formally with a full 90° bow!” 

“I should’ve bitten your hands at least once back then.” Jungkook jokingly muses.

Before you could witness their banter explode, there’s a tug on your shirt and you spun around to face Hoseok who had nudged his head to the door. Jin had already marched towards the maknae before you could even thank him so you left.

Once you were both outside the studio, Hoseok closed the door behind and hugged you.

“Wh-what is this?”

“A thank you hug for being the sacrifice and feeding the grumpy dragon instead.” He says with a laugh but you knew what he was trying to do. It was in the way he tried soothing you with back rubs and this tight hug.

“I’m fine, Hoba. I didn’t expect us to be buddy buddy again after what happened.”

He sighed.

“He still shouldn’t have done that. I’m sure Seokjin hyung will talk to him about it later.”

Stepping back, you shook your head. “No need, I understand why he’s acting like that.”

His eyes regarded your face for a moment before pulling you back in for a hug and nuzzling his head on top of yours. “You don’t have to defend him noona, he’s acting like a child. It's our duty as his hyungs to fix that up.”

“Please don’t. It feels like you’re taking sides, he might think it's unfair.”

He laughs. “Are you kidding? ‘Cause from what I’m seeing, he’s being a petulant child. He should handle the rejection with more grace when it's his fault he’s in this predicament. You know Seokjin hyung warned him, right?”

“He told me when he and Tae took him home.”

“Then you should know better than defend him.” You opened your mouth to refute but he pressed a finger to your lips. “Don't start. He's not the same sixteen years old we had to raise back then, he needs correcting.”

With two hands on your shoulders, he then spun you around and began to push you towards the elevator, leaving no room for an argument. 

Once he had led you back to the locomotive, he briefly stepped in to push the correct button for the production floor and stepped back and waved as the elevator wall slowly closed to a shut.

“Now go feed hyung and yourself before you go back to work. Thank you again noona and see you later."

“Special delivery for a grumpy hairless cat!”

A beat.

Then came a grumbled: “Come in.”

Punching the proper strings of numbers on the door code, you open the door to the genius lab to find Yoongi sitting in front of his computer, one ear off of his headphones as he goes back to a specific second again and again.

Situating yourself on the couch next to the door, you place the paper bag on the coffee table and slowly unload all its contents, hoping its smell is enough to deter him from his work just for a second.

Taking one of the containers, you open it to see bulgogi generously sprinkled on top of rice. The savory smell of the dish wafting out almost immediately, and Yoongi visibly perks up from his table; if perking up meant him temporarily stopping his incessant clicking and head tilting a little to the side.

“Is it all bulgogi?”

Placing down the container, you opened the other one to reveal the same dish except this time with fried rice.

“Yeah, you want fried rice or no?”

“Whatever you like less.” He grumbled as he returned to his work.

“That's not a proper answer.”

“Just take whatever you want, I like either.” He muttered.

Staring at the food on the table, you found yourself at a crossroads. The fried rice looks more appetizing than the plain white rice on the other container but you've had enough sodium for the week, having challenged Taehyung, Jimin and Jin to who can eat more ramyeon in one sitting the day before the concert.

But today just doesn't feel like a plain rice type of day. 

But fried rice isn't healthy.

“Just choose please, I don't know what I want either.” You groaned out, frustrated.

With a grunt, the man took off his headphones and turned to face you before maneuvering himself closer to the table and picking up the container with the plain rice.

“Stop thinking so much about what is healthy or not,” He remarked as he took a pair of chopsticks from the paper bag. “I could hear your thoughts even with my headphones on and my back turned.”

“Then why tell me to choose if you already knew?”

Yoongi only shrugged as he took his first bite, prompting you to take yours. He seems to mull over something as he chews, staring at the food on the table for a while before placing the container down and leaving the room without a word.

You had learned not to question his confusing actions throughout the years, even then you couldn't help but be bewildered.

When he returned, he was carrying two drinks in one hand. Sprite and Kombucha. Settling back on his chair, he placed down the bottle of Kombucha in front of him before opening the can of sprite and placing it in front of you.

“I don't have any straws on me so you'll have to just chug it.”

People don't usually notice it but you think Jin and Yoongi are more similar in how they show their affections, just in different volumes. Seokjin’s care is always voiced out, always asking whether you want something or not and offering to do or make it for you while Yoongi just somehow always knows what you want and does it wordlessly. Both of them are always willing to provide.

If you had asked them for something as ludicrous as fried cotton candy with melted cheese on top, Jin would complain and express his disgust openly, ranting about the strenuous process while holding the handle of the pan and a spatula in the other while Yoongi would cook it without questioning your sanity.

Either way, it never fails to make your chest warm.

“Thank you, Yoongs.”

He suddenly takes a huge bite, bringing the container close to his face before humming out his response, easily flustered as ever.

You both eat your food in silence. With years of friendship under your belt, you have learned to enjoy the serenity Yoongi brings. It had been rough at the start, his quietness matched with his stoic expression had often led to misunderstandings where you often thought he thinks of you badly for being close to his brothers, especially after Jin’s confession.

He had confronted you once he heard it from Namjoon—who had immediately tattled onto his hyung after you had told him not to tell anyone—, saying he simply had problems expressing himself. You could remember how his hands, despite being entangled with each other, shook with his voice, could recall how he had forced himself to hold eye contact with you when he always had difficulties in holding one.

It was thoughtful and that was the first time you had felt the tingles of warmth in your chest. Teenage you had her feet swept off by a stuttering mess of a guy with eye contact issues.

Despite Jin being the first in the group to confess, Yoongi was the first to touch your heart.

“Why are you looking at me like that?’

You tilt your head. “Like what?”

A conflict of emotion crossed his eyes as he struggled to find the words but before he could, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

           [13:54] Guwon: I'm at the cafe close to your building

You almost choked on your spit, surprised by his message. His office was on the other side of the city, why would he drive so far just to get some coffee with you during work days? 

Love , a voice answers and you immediately waved it off.

There was no way he had fallen in love with you in such a short time. You have been on two dates with him yet he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend when there's been multiple times throughout those days and nights he had the chance to do so.

During nights where you'd restlessly toss around on your bed, you found yourself facing one more problem outside of your friends.

You didn't notice when it started when Guwon began to make your stomach churn and it bothers you to the nines at how you were being suspicious of him.

Guwon is a genuinely nice guy with a legit and grand background from what you learned throughout the short time you've been hanging out, his case stories of helping out women stuck in abusive relationships and bringing justice to those the law has failed once proven true when you've typed his name on Naver. The man didn't deserve the doubt twisting in your stomach nor the aversion you were slowly gaining towards him.

Your conflicting feelings surrounding your friends' confessing and odd behaviors shouldn't be affecting your relationship with the man you will marry at some point yet it ended up doing so.

There was something foul and bitter simmering in your guts these days whenever you force yourself to think about him during your time. It burns like bile and tasted like betrayal, almost like unfaithfulness ; you try not to think hard on why you feel this way but it's hard not to when Jimin and Taehyung's jealousy keeps flashing behind your eyelids with every blink.

           [13:55] You: Oh wow, which one?

           [13:55] Guwon: The one on the left side, Areum Cafe.

           [13:55] Guwon: Are you free to get a cup of coffee with me?

           [13:56] Guwon: Sorry for springing this up on you

           [13:55] Guwon: I missed you🙁

“Who is it?”

“It's Guwon,” You say, scratching your head. “He says he's at the cafe down the road and wants to meet up.”

Yoongi placed down his food and stared at you, long and hard. Cat-like eyes narrowed and observing as he leaned back on his chair. You feel his eyes regard your body language before sighing.

“I assume you need help getting out? I'm not as… bold as the younger ones but I think I can help… somehow”

His appearance would surely help tamper down the discomfort that had bloomed with the recent revelations. Yoongi is intimidating as he is caring, having him next to you would ensure you a shorter time spent with the man, as well as prohibit him from pulling another surprise kiss on you.

But why are you so uncomfortable spending time with Guwon anyways?

You didn't have any problems before, even wanted to sleep with him the night prior so why now?

“How’d you know I need help?”

“You looked like your mother just told you to come to another date.”

Immediately, you ironed out the frown you didn't realize had marred your face. 

“I thought you would've been delighted you've finally met your match?”

“I-I am.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, the sound echoing louder in the silence of the room. “Try again. A little more sure this time.”

You sighed and relented, knowing the man wouldn't let you take a step out of the door if you lied to him again.

“Everything just started feeling wrong for some reason.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, eyes widening with surprise. “How so?”

“You know, when Jimin and Taehyung came over last night to make sure I got home safe, they were acting strange towards Guwon.” When he made no move to respond, you continued. “When Guwon suddenly kissed me, Taehyung looked… scary. Jimin too, if you can believe it.”

“I actually do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Yoongi goes silent again, mulling over something as his gaze finally met yours for the first time that day. “For someone so perceptive, you're a bit oblivious.”

“What is it?”

“I won't elaborate, I'll let you realize things on your own.”

You groaned, facepalming because ain't no way Yoongi just added more fuel to the forest fire that is your thoughts. The man doesn’t even look aware of what his words had done, reaching over and innocently sipping on his kombucha once more.

“Back to what you were saying, why do you think it felt wrong to see Guwon?”

With his calm voice and the deafening silence of the room, you found yourself comparing Yoongi, who even has his hands folded over his crossed jean-clad legs, to a therapist and laughed.

“Didn’t know I was due for a therapy session when I dropped off your lunch.”

“Well I did, so deal with it,” He placed down his bottle. “Do you need my help or not?”

“Is breathing important? Obviously yes.”

He nods and stands, but not before saying, “I hope you know this conversation is far from over.”

While his presence had given you more peace of mind, leaving the BigHit building with Yoongi—who had forgone his usual outdoor style of beanies and big prescription glasses matched with a black mask in order to appear more intimidating, claiming the beanie softens his edges, something you playfully rolled your eyes at—still felt like walking into your doom.

The moment he steps out of the building, suddenly everyone's eyes are on him. The cool stoicness surrounding him commanded attention and the people listened without complaint, not when Yoongi looked like every highschool teenager's bad boy wet dreams.

Strolling into the cafe is easier with Yoongi trailing behind you like a guard dog; or in his case, a guard panther.

There's something about having the rapper, who has never shown a hint of romantic attraction to you in all your years being their friend, accompanying you to meet the man you might marry once the discomfort born from conflicting feelings subsides. It makes your heart jittery and your stomach twisting uncomfortably, the nerves from meeting Guwon only adding fuel to the fire.

It felt improper somehow, as if you were breaking an invisible rule you're yet to uncover from the depths of your soul.

The tempting aroma of freshly baked buttery goods and roasted coffee beans greeted you the moment Yoongi had pushed the door open for the both of you. In the controlled volume of mixed chatters from different tables, a calm acoustic instrumental flies through the air and you almost forgot what you came here for. 

It didn't take long for you to find Guwon sitting on the table farthest from the entrance, secluded and away from the wide glass pane windows. When the door had opened with a chime, the man had raised his head from his phone and met your eyes. You try not to linger on how his expression stiffened when he realized you had Yoongi in tow before a smile wipes it away.

“You see him?” Yoongi’s voice grumbled from behind and you nod. Guwon stands, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor catching his attention. “That him?”

“Yeah, I don't think he's happy I brought you with me.”

He chuckled lightly. “Good.”

Guwon met you both halfway, arms opened wide to greet you with a hug and you let him. When you pull away, his hand casually falls to your waist and your skin scrawls . 

Immediately, Yoongi’s eyes drop to look at it but before any hint of emotion breaks onto his face, his cool eyes are already back on your suitor’s face.

“Which one of your kids am I given the pleasure of meeting this time?” Guwon asks before offering his free hand to Yoongi who had taken it with a carefully crafted blank expression and unrelenting stare.

Seeing him remain in eye contact with Guwon surprises you. The man, even after your years of being friends, had never held eye contact for longer than five seconds outside the time he had opened up to you about his struggle with expressing himself.

It made you curious. Why is he provoking him? Is he testing Guwon?

“I'm not one of her kids, I'm actually older than her. Min Yoongi.”

“Yoo Guwon, a pleasure to meet you.”

Even when both their hands had long pulled away from each other, their eyes lingered longer. Challenging on Guwon's part, and taunting on Yoongi's as he stared back, completely unfazed.

Seeing them silently engage in a dick measuring contest, something you didn’t expect Yoongi to ever partake in since he had been loud in his distaste for his own gender, irked you. The tightening grip on your waist didn't help, wanting nothing but to slap it off if it wasn't for your promise to your mother to not fuck this up.

‘If you don't tell them what you're uncomfortable with, then they'll continue on doing it. The other guys out there aren't like us who'd feel guilty if we knew, I fear that they might take advantage of you instead, noona.’ Hobi’s voice echoes in your mind.

Sorry Hoba, I'm trying to make this work. But if this behavior continues, then I'll listen to you.

“I thought you idols are often more busy than the average folk?”

Yoongi sucks air through his teeth before responding. “We were in the middle of a fitting prior. I hope you don't mind me keeping watch, can't have our staff getting distracted by heartthrobs like you.”

Guwon laughed, a little louder than usual.

“She's been telling you guys about me?”

“All the good things, don't worry.” He then turns to you, eyes searching your face for a hint of extreme discomfort before continuing. “I'll go order the others some food.”

Sparing one last nod of his head at the man next to you, Yoongi then turns towards the counter to order. The moment he was out of earshot, dread drops onto your stomach like an anvil and you looked up at the Guwon whose eyes were already trained onto yours, a lazy smile stretched on his lips.

“I assume you’ll be needed back once he’s done?”

“ Yeah, I’m sorry it's just… Wrong timing.”

He waves you off. “Nonsense, it’s my fault for bringing you out of your work. They won’t fine you for this, right?”

“I went with one of my bosses, of course they won’t.”

His eyes studied your face for a moment, searching. For what? You don’t want to know. When he had found whatever it was, his face melts into a softer, more mellow expression and your heart clenches. The outpouring of awe in his eyes felt heavy and thick, it clogs up your throat and weighs your already strained form.

“I missed you.” He whispers with the sweetest of voices. “Did you miss me?”

“I-I do, kept thinking about you...”

The lie weighted like lead on your tongue and burned like acid. Compared to the genuineness practically dripping from his lips, your words fall short in your ears. With the way his softened expression crumpled into a frown, you knew he also noticed the hesitance in your voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. With the tour being so close and more sponsorship offers coming in, it got a bit stressful than usual.”

When his arms reach around your shoulders and pull you flush to his chest, you will yourself not to tense. You were both hugging in the middle of the coffee shop and you could feel the nearby patron’s stare pressing onto your body, judging and unpleasant. Embarrassment burns your cheeks and the desire to push him away grows.

Even Jimin and Taehyung doesn’t dare to get affectionate in public, none of your friends ever did anything more than a hand on your shoulder to lead you to the correct direction or a pat on the back when Jungkook had more sleep and food ingested, and and you just happen to be assigned to him that day.

You wanted nothing more but to tell him to back off but the words got stuck in your throat. 

“Just a tip, she doesn’t like PDA so maybe step away?”

Immediately, Guwon scrambles off of you. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Guwon says, his hand falling from your shoulder and down to your arm. You shivered.

A firm and familiar hand lands on your shoulder and Yoongi tugs you back to stand next to him. There’s a set in jaw as his eyes narrowed down at Guwon, the hand replacing Guwon on your arm is tense and rigid but not enough to hurt. 

You sensed that he had a lot to say once you were out of sight, all of them expressing his distaste for the man you’re set to eventually marry. Even when you were all standing there, you could already imagine the curses and nitpicked details pouring out of his lips.

“We’ll be going back now,” Yoongi says to Guwon, voice tight as if holding back his emotions as he curtly bowed. “Our leader is already demanding us to come back so we’ll have to cut this meeting short. It was nice meeting you.”

Guwon looked incredulous at the turn of events, eyes shuttering before he nodded in understanding and turned to flash a smile at you.

“Message me when you’re home, alright?”

Yoongi didn’t even linger long enough for you to respond, already walking away. By the time you turned to look at him, he was three gaits away from leaving the coffee shop. With a dip of your head, you sprint to follow closely behind the man now pushing through the door. 

You could understand the reason for his irritation, always the most protective out of the bunch and the one with the most to say about men. To see your closest female friend be made uncomfortable by her suitor, a stranger in his eyes, there was no doubt he’d be livid.

But why does he have to walk so fast?! 

You’re not physically built to match his pace, he takes one step and you have to do three. It was infuriating but you couldn’t exactly scream at him to slow down in public, catching the attention of other people would only create more problems than you both could take on

He eventually slows down to a halt in front of the double glass doors of the BigHit building and you were able to finally catch up to him. In the lobby, you both calmly approached the elevator, a complete juxtaposition of how hasty you two were not a moment before. 

But the moment the metal doors of the elevator shuts, isolating you and Yoongi from the rest, he begins.

“I don’t like him.”

It was stupid but you wanted to know what specific trait he had found irksome.

(Deep down, you knew you were finding a reason to stop, to let go of Guwon and stop this stupid charade.)

“He didn’t even notice you were uncomfortable earlier. When you told us that he’s good, I thought he’d be decent, not top grade bare minimum.”

“H-He was actually good, believe it or not.”

“So he's a pretentious prick?”

You sighed. “H-He just—”

“Hyung wouldn't approve.” Yoongi cuts in, his hardened eyes now piercing through yours, almost taunting you to bite back. “Not just him, everyone would. You'd break poor Jiminie’s heart if you continued seeing him once he found out how he acted today.”

You knew he was guilt tripping you and it was working. But you swore Guwon was better than the others, he had treated you with a gentleness and care your friends had shown yet something had changed after that night. 

Was Taehyung's clinginess, their presence in general, been the catalyst?

Had he felt threatened by them showing up? You had established early on that they're your boss and your mother would've mentioned your relationship with the boys in passing at least, so why would he feel threatened by them?

“I know what you're thinking but it doesn't work like that.” His voice, now softer than it had been earlier, pierces through the trance you’ve submerged into. “Even if you had said you’re only friends with them, it's human nature for us to still feel intimidated even if we're just friends.”

“That's dumb.”

He shrugged. “Men are dumb, I'm just slightly better than the rest.”

“That's debatable.” You joked and he raised an eyebrow.

“ Your taste is questionable.” He shot back and you hit his arm in response, making him laugh but it stopped as fast as it came. “I'm serious, hyung won't like it if you continue meeting Guwon.”

“I know, I can already hear him and we're not even there yet.”

“Don’t be dumb, if you want a husband so bad, tell aunt to wait for me to renew our contract next year and I'll marry you.” 

He meant it as a joke, you knew that, but you couldn't stop the butterflies in your stomach from fluttering wildly. You're suddenly reminded of a scene from years ago, his alcohol-flushed cheeks pulled taut by the dopey smile stretching his lips wide and his slurred voice admitting something you—until today—have no recollection of what had been uttered.

You both have been battered to the nines, drunken out of your minds and stumbling over the smallest rocks on the street by the time Seokjin and Namjoon had found you halfway home. It was a miracle you both got off unscathed with how giggly and dumbed down you were.

“Bold of you to assume I'd say yes.”

“I got wealth, I got a good mug on me, what else would you need?”

“Seokjin also got those.”

He pondered long and hard, sucking air through his teeth before he turned to you again with a playful glint in his eyes.

“You know what they say about my tongue right?”

He couldn’t say he didn’t expect the punch in the arm that followed soon after.

When the elevator door opens and you both go straight for the dance studio, the conversation about Guwon is put on pause and you dread the moment Seokjin hears what had transpired in the coffee shop when suddenly, Yoongi stills and hissed out a curse.

“ Shit , I forgot Jungkook’s muffins.”

[sarawritestories]

Tell Me A Story, Nes

Nessian Fic

NESSIAN WEEK DAY 5: BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

Summary: Cassian offers to braid Nesta's hair and she begins to talk about her Book. Which leads the General to make an unusual request.

A/N: I Adored this prompt because I know these two are so soft behind closed doors!

If you see mistakes, no, you didn't!

@nessianweek

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Cassian smiled as the door to his and Nesta's room opened. The later walking in eyes bright but tired. "A good book club with Em, and Gwyn?" He began to rise from his seat by the fire when his mate held up a hand.

"Let me change and I'll tell you all about it." She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, "When I come out, would you be willing to braid my hair?"

Cassian's grinn widened, "As if you have to ask, Nes." He motioned for her to come toward him, and she complied. With his thumb, he softly pulled her bottom lip from her gnawing. Placing a chaste kiss on her mouth, he whispered, "I love you."

Nesta, face warmed with a flush, never tiring of the Illyrian saying those words to her, her silver eyes twinkling against the light of the flame. A flame she no longer feared, no longer pictured her father's neck snapping at the sound of a crack. The male in front of her was to thank for taking the time to work with her through that trauma from the war.

She kissed him once more, and she could hear Cassian's wings rustling in response. "And I love you, Cas." She watched as his Honey colored eyes warmed at the sentiment as if he too had waited for someone to utter those words to him. She lightly patted his cheek as she headed to the bathing chambers.

When she returned her favorite silk nightgown in her favorite shade of red hugging her body, Cassian patted the spot between his legs comb in hand, "Feel better." Nesta smiled and watched as the General took in her whole body. She shifted under his soft scrutiny. She wasn't sure if she would ever be used to someone who not only looked at her with such fierce passion as Cassian's eyes always did. Not sure she would ever be used to being seen as someone worth cherishing worth protecting and asking for nothing in return.

"Nes?" His low voice pulled her from her thoughts to find his dark brows furrowed with concern, "You alright?"

The eldest Archeron grinned widely, showing teeth, a smile reserved for him, Her Valkyries, and Azriel: her inner circle. "I'm wonderful."

Cassian chuckled, "Then come here, I'm wanting to hear about this book."

Nesta grabbed the book from the table and rushed over to where he had motioned her to sit, when she adjusted to a comfortable position on the floor between his legs, he began to separate her hair and began to braid. Nesta hummed and leaned into his touch, reminded that the calloused hands of the Lord of Bloodshed held a gentleness to them. Cassian loved doing these things for her, and when she once asked him about why he loved braiding and brushing her hair he had said:

"It reminds me that my hands are capable of being gentle and loving, not just a weapon of war."

So became their nightly routine. Nesta would tell him about the book her book club was reading as he brushed and plaited her hair.

This particular night, she was telling him a story told in a series of books that Gwyn found in a dark corner of the library, it had Assassins, hidden princesses, witches and fearsome warriors and an epic battle they were about to embark on in the final book.

Once Nesta had finished explaining, silence fell between them in the room. She knew he was awake as his fingers were gently tugging her hair to manipulate it into going where he wanted it. Another moment went by before she took a glance at the mirror beside the fireplace to find Cassian smiling at her reflection. "What?" She whispered.

"You always look so free when you talk about your stories? Just like when music plays out by the rainbow, your body comes alive, as does your facial expressions." He pauses his work on her hair to rub his tanned hands against her bare arms, causing a shiver down her spine. "You are breathtaking every day. But I could spend centuries watching you talk about the things you love." He pressed his lips softly to her temple before moving to pinning her braids into a crown, just the way she likes it.

"Cassian, you're too sweet, I fear."

Cassian's chest rumbled with laughter, "You deserve the world, Nes, you deserve someone being sweet to you." Cassian tapped her arm, indicating he was done, and she quickly rose to move toward his lap. Cassian quick to wrap an arm around her waist and hand wrapping over her bare thigh. "You don't want to check my work."

Nesta scoffed, "I trust you." She kissed his cheek, "Thank you, My Love."

"Anything for you, Sweetheart." His wings curved to provide an extra warmth to the room. They fell into silence once more.

"Tell Me a Story, Nes." Cassian whispered.

Nesta faced him, his eyes meeting her silver once with sincerity, "What?"

"Read to me." There was no question to the statement. He continued, "I want to know how the Princess reclaims her throne."

Nesta pressed her hand to her cheek, making sure the warmth of them were not due to a fever. "No one i have courted before has ever been interested in my books," her voice barely above a whisper.

Cassian's hand moved from her thigh to cup her face, "I am not, 'no one'. I would crawl to the ends of the earth for you. There is nothing about you that I don't want to know. I want to experience storytelling with you the way I have with music. You have given music meaning for me, Nes. Let us have that with reading to."

Nesta eyes began to glisten with tears, "Okay."

Cassian reached and handed her the book. "Okay."

Nesta opened to the first chapter and her voice a sweet Symphony to the Lord of Bloodshed's ears, "Once upon a time, in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom..."

General Tag: @milswrites @lady-of-tearshed @tsunami-of-tears @readychilledwine @ceoofyearning

@velariscalling @daycourtofficial @prythianpages @writingcroissant @itsswritten

@illyrianbitch @acotarxreader @pit-and-the-pen @nocasdatsgay @labyrinth-of-stories-and-stars

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@kylaisra @nickishadow139 @aelincaddel @nighttimemoonlover @demirunner

@marvelbros-oneshots @lanea-1 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

[lucygxybaird]

billy & his mermaid lover have an important conversation.

Living here in San Diego is the first time in his life Billy has seen the ocean, and even after living here all these months, he still finds himself marveling at it. 

It seems almost like a living thing. It rages, it sighs, it lingers like a lover reluctant to leave. It is different from one day to the next, from one moment to the next, colors shifting from deep blue to slate gray, sparkling in the sun like a veil sewn with countless diamonds. He especially loves the way the moon will lay a path of ivory over the waves, reminding him of the snow in New Mexico, when it was freshly fallen and unblemished. 

Of course, the most miraculous, beautiful thing about the ocean is you. 

He’s waiting for you with his trousers rolled up to his knees, his feet in the water. Months ago, he found this little cove, sheltered by cliffs and conifers. He’d just been walking aimlessly, restless now that he didn’t need to run anymore. 

It might sound strange to some, to anyone who had never lived walking the knife’s edge of danger like a tightrope, but it’s difficult to get used to living any other way. The absence of adrenaline, of purpose — even if it’s just the jagged uncertainty of wondering where his next meal was coming from, or when he would have a roof over his head again — feels oddly like grief. There’s an emptiness, a vague sense of being lost, of drifting aimlessly like a leaf caught by the eddy of a breeze. And so he had just let the breeze carry him, pushing him across the country until he hit water.

Even once he was here, with nowhere else to go except across the Pacific Ocean, he didn’t stop moving. He changed lodging just about every month, if not simply for a different view. And he took walks nearly every night, when the cool ocean breeze reminded him of his mother’s gentle touch, teasing at his hair and fussing with his collar. Once, he’d never taken the same path twice, but that was before he met you. 

It’s different now, though. He thinks he could walk the way to meet you blindfolded, having memorized the particular whisper of sand beneath his boots, the barely audible murmur of the grass brushing against his legs, the call of the ocean getting louder with every step he takes. Each moment is so important to him, preserved in his mind like a photograph; he’s learned to appreciate beauty wherever he can find it, for as long as he has it, because it’s impossible to know when it will be taken away. 

In his experience, it’s always taken away. Illness, murder, demons of the mind or in the shape of men — one way or another, anything sweet and lovely in his life is stolen from him. 

As he spots a ripple in the water, getting closer and closer to shore, he hopes that this time is going to be different. 

Your head breaks the surface, your smile shining more brightly than the moon. Your hair is swept back, plastered to your neck and shoulders, but as you make your way closer to him, he watches as it flutters as if in a breeze, falling around your face in soft chestnut curls. 

It’s little things like that which remind him, even more so than the glimmering tail below your waist, that you’re a creature entirely apart from him. He’s seen you take a handful of sand, press it between your palms, and pull them apart to show him a pearl — seen you purse your lips and blow sea-foam into fantastic shapes, which firm up until they’re as solid as bone — seen you swim miles in a moment, jumping up from the water and arcing so high into the air that it seems you could catch the stars in your hands. 

You’re magical, that’s for sure, but the most magical thing about you is that somehow you’ve seen something in him worth coming back for, over and over. 

“Hi, baby,” he says, reaching out for you as soon as you’re close enough, pulling you into his lap. His feet remain in the water and so do your fins, and you lean back against his chest, turning in his arms to smile at him again. 

You wiggle your fingers. Hi. 

Of all the things you can do, the one thing you can’t is talk to him. He doesn’t know why, and you can’t explain it to him, but he supposes it’s something about your vocal cords. Maybe they only work beneath the waves, because something about the air ruins them. Or maybe you don’t even have vocal cords, the way he does. You’ve shown him so many times how special you are, it just stands to reason that the way you speak — or whether you can speak above the waves at all — would be different, too. 

The fact that it makes sense doesn’t mean it stings any less, though. 

“How was your day?” he asks, and you scrunch up your nose, holding out your hand and see-sawing it from side to side.

It was okay. 

You reach up and pat his cheek, gifting him with another smile, which he takes to mean: Better now. 

Billy smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin ever your shoulder, breathing you in. You smell absolutely intoxicating — the sweetest, freshest breeze off the ocean, mixed with notes he can’t quite identify but bring to mind lavender and citrus, hydrangea and rosemary. 

You look at him, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. You?

“Better now,” he agrees. He presses a kiss against your cheek. “I’m always happy to see you, honey, you know that.”

You smile, nuzzling your nose against his. Billy leans down and presses his lips to yours, melting as you respond. You manage to turn completely in his arms, until you’re kneeling — for lack of a better word — between his legs, and you wind your arms around his neck, kissing him again. 

And then again, again, again, until Billy is pleasantly dizzy.

When you finally break apart, you rest your forehead against his, your arms tightening around his neck. Billy keeps his hands on your hips, closing his eyes for a moment. 

No one in the world is more important to him than you are, and all he wants is to tell you he loves you. The words nearly escape him every time he sees you, like a firefly managing to find a chink between a child’s fingers to flutter up into the night sky. And he thinks — he hopes, more like — that you feel the same way, just by the way you look at him. 

He’s been thinking about saying it for so long, but he just keeps losing his nerve. What if he’s wrong? What if someone like you — so extraordinary, so rare, so beautiful — could never actually love someone like him?

Not for the first time, he wishes he could hear your voice. It might be pathetic of him — childish, at best — but he just needs your reassurances, spoken out-loud like an oath, rather than gestures that are up to his interpretation. He doesn’t think he’s been wrong about figuring out what your little looks and gestures mean, exactly, but he’s always been (no pun intended) a straight shooter. Sometimes, he just wants to know for sure.

He feels your cool fingertips against his cheek, and he looks at you, managing a smile. “Sorry, honey, I was just lost in thought. What do ya need?” 

You tap his temple, before touching his lower lip. Tell me what you’re thinking. 

He smiles again, shaking his head. “I was just…”

Your brow furrows impatiently, which makes him chuckle despite the rainclouds staining his thoughts in shadow. “I just wish…I wish you could talk to me.”

Before you can react, he rushes on, “I don’t wanna change anything about you. I love you just the way you are, but—”

A moment later, his voice sticks in his throat as he realizes that what he actually said. You’re staring at him, and he feels his heart climb into his throat, heat rushing over his cheeks so powerfully that he’s surprised he doesn’t just burst into flames like a tree struck by lightning. “I…I…”

You frame his face between your hands and you give him a resounding, smacking kiss on the lips. His heart starts a descent back into its normal spot, and when he sees the way you’re smiling at him, it gives a pleasant flutter. 

Emboldened, he goes on: “I love you just the way you are, but sometimes I wanna…I wanna know what you sound like. I bet you have the prettiest voice in the world.” He reaches up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Sometimes I dream about you sayin’ my name, and then I think about how sweet it would be all day.”

You lean in, nuzzling against him. Billy closes his eyes, breathing in your intoxicating scent again. “My sweet girl,” he murmurs, and you snuggle closer.

After a moment or two like this, you pull back and look at him, nibbling at your lower lip. “What?” he asks, his forehead wrinkling with worry. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitate, and then point toward the water, before holding your hand at the level of your chin and raising it slowly until it’s above your head. Then you point to the ocean again, repeating the gesture. It takes a second to click, and then Billy blanches. 

“I…honey, I don’t…I don’t know if I can.”

Ever since that terrible day when the wagon collapsed as his family crossed the river — Billy swallows, his skin going clammy just thinking about it, as if he’s submerged in that greedy current all over again. Watching his mother lean over his father, desperate, white-faced, pleading with him to wake up, saying his name over and over like it could weave a spell to save him. Ever since then, Billy has hated being in water, especially being in over his head. He loves you, so much, but — 

You take his face in your hands again. Your eyes are wide and earnest, your touch gentle, and you take one hand to put it over your heart. He knows what you’re trying to say: I’ll keep you safe. I promise.

“I can’t,” he whispers, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, baby, I just — I just can’t.” 

You smile at him, but it’s not the same smile as before. It’s tinged with sadness, with — his throat tightens — disappointment, but you just kiss his forehead and nod. I understand. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, his voice rough, but you just shake your head and offer him another smile.

Don’t be.

Billy feels his eyes sting. He knows you were trying to say that you can speak to him underwater, which means he could hear you say you love him back. He can hear you, period. But the thought of the water closing over his head, his eyes seeing nothing but swirling blue-gray depths, his lungs begging for air…he doesn’t think he could stand it. The mere idea has his chest tightening as if someone is standing with a boot-heel pressed over his heart. 

The two of you stay on the beach for a few more hours. You dive in and out of the water, bringing him seashells, ropes of seaweed that you weave together and place on his head like a crown; you cup your hands full of seawater and pull your palms apart, countless water droplets sparkling in the space between like stars. You summon a dolphin and race with it (you win). 

Billy manages a genuine smile or two, but in the back of his head, a voice that sounds awfully like his stepfather’s keeps saying: Coward, coward, coward.

Eventually, you’ve tuckered yourself out, and you crawl back into his lap, curling up comfortably and dozing against his shoulder. He runs his fingers up and down your spine, leaning his cheek against the top of your head. He closes his eyes for a minute, steeling himself. “Honey, I…I don’t — I don’t think we should see each other anym—!”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’ve jackknifed upright in his arms, putting your hand over his mouth. You shake your head fervently, brows furrowed in a firm line. You flatten your mouth and shake your head again. No! Stop that! 

Billy gently peels your hand away from his mouth. “Baby, I — I’m crazy about you, but I’m not…”

You put your hand back over his mouth. Your frown deepens. Your eyes narrow dangerously. Stop. 

He lifts his chin, freeing himself from your palm against his lips. “Listen to me, please,” he says. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me — ever, ever — but how can you say I’m deserving of you when I’m too chicken-shit to be a part of your world? Eventually you’re gonna get sick of always makin’ the sacrifices, always comin’ to me, when I can’t even spend a second in the ocean.” 

You lean back and splash at his foot, which is extended out into the surf. He chuckles despite himself. “You know what I mean.”

You shrug, casting your eyes down and back up. And so? 

“And so, you deserve better.” 

You slap your tail against the wet sand, hard. He isn’t sure precisely what that might mean, but it’s clear you disagree. You fold your arms over your chest and glare at him. 

“You deserve better,” he repeats softly. “You should just leave me behind.”

He earns another tail-slap for this. This time, he supposes you mean, I’m not going anywhere. 

Billy sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “I…I want to,” he says, and you nod, knowing what he means. He wants to go underwater, so he can finally hear your voice. He’s just so damn afraid. “I…how long would I have to be…?”

You hold your thumb and forefinger a hair’s breadth apart, indicating it won’t be for very long. And then you wrap your arms tightly around him, looking at him earnestly. I won’t let you go. 

He knows you mean that in more ways than one. Billy presses his lips against yours, and your kiss gives him a small drop of courage. He knows you well enough to understand that you’re not just going to give up on him, that you don’t believe him when he says he’s not good enough for you. He can’t help but smile to himself. You’re so sweet and gentle that he never really noticed how stubborn you are before.

With this possibility out in the open between the two of you, he can’t just ignore it, and you can’t take the knowledge away. It will eat at him, being too afraid to do this for you, with you, and your tenacity can only hold out for so long. Eventually, he’ll push you away, even if that’s the last thing he wants to do — just because he’ll be so damn ashamed of himself.

He’s far too familiar with shame not to realize that’s the truth. 

Living this more settled life hasn’t always been perfect, hasn’t always felt like it fits, but he’s finally started to feel tall again. To push away the shame he’s felt about all the things he’s done, all the things he had to do, in order to do the right thing — or just in order to survive. You’ve been a big part of that, listening to him talk for hours; and no matter what he’s told you, you keep coming back. It helps him to understand that maybe he’s not such a lost soul after all. 

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay.”

You smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He disentangles you gently and nods toward the water, and you dive back in, waiting for him a few feet offshore. He strips his shirt off and rolls his pants up to the knees, wading in. His heart starts to pound as the water reaches his waist, and by the time it’s up to his shoulders, he already feels like he can’t breathe.

But then you put your arms around him again, stroking his hair away from his face. You widen your eyes slightly, questioning. Ready?

He nods. “Yeah,” he croaks. 

With your arms still tight around him, you dive down. Billy has just enough time to suck in a deep breath, holding it, before he’s underwater. 

He looks at you, and he feels his heart trip.

Somehow, you’re even more beautiful down here. The shifting light dances over your skin, illuminating it as though from the inside out; you shine like a pearl, like a star, like a whole fucking constellation. Your tail catches the light, too, looking like a thousand tiny brilliant jewels. Your hair shifts and flows around you, but it doesn’t obscure your eyes, the way you’re looking at him. You lean in, pressing your lips against the shell of his ear. “I love you, Billy,” you say. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Your voice is far lovelier than he imagined it would be, which is saying something, because he has spent hours and hours wondering. It’s warm and shimmering, full of music, ringing like a bell, yet somehow soft, gentle, intimate. He doesn’t think he could do justice describing it even if he spent the rest of his life trying. 

A moment later, you start to swim up again, and he manages to find his feet and wade back to the beach, despite the fact his legs feel weak. You follow him, smiling as you nestle yourself in his lap again. He puts his arms around you, holding you tight. 

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against your hair. “Thank you.”

You look up at him, drawing your fingertips along his cheek. Gently, you ruffle his wet hair, getting it to stand up on end, making the both of you smile. You lean your forehead against his, looking earnestly into his eyes. Are you okay?

He nods, offering you another smile. “More than okay,” he says. “I think I’m the luckiest man in the world.” 

[ely--sia]

velvet ring

contents: unreliable narrator!geto suguru x reader; modern au, fluff, geto is the most unreliable narrator ever words: 1.5k warnings: none

it’s late june, the beginning of an endlessly hot summer. hot, hot sunlight streams through the deep, bright green of the summer leaves, and the ringing sound of cicadas cuts through the humid summer of tokyo like a hot knife against cool butter. it’s almost too hot to breathe. still, suguru makes his way to his part-time job, a cold can of coffee in his left hand and his phone in his right. he never really liked coffee, but he likes the cool of it in his hand. he feels each drop of condensation on the cool metal, rubbing it away with his thumb before shaking all the water off. he cracks it open and takes a sip. 

he remembers again why he never liked coffee. still, he swallows it down with a grimace and glances down at his phone.

today’s a thursday, and his classes end early on thursdays. he’ll make it to his part-time job, the one at the old kissaten, by midday. then, when he finishes at five, he’ll have thirty minutes for a quick dinner before making his way to his other job. 

a heavy sigh leaves suguru’s lips. 

it isn’t because he’s tired. yes, he is tired—he would be lying if he said he wasn’t—but it’s a good kind of tired that leaves his bones singing. it’s the kind of tired that he knows will be worth it in the end. besides, he’s used to work. coming up to tokyo from the countryside for university, working multiple part-time jobs is nothing foreign to him. to suguru, money isn’t some kind of commodity; it’s something that needs to be worked for and earned (even though gojo disagrees), and his body has long become used to late nights and achy muscles. 

no, suguru sighs because he’ll finish at 11 tonight, and he doesn’t know what excuse to tell you this time. you don’t know about him working, and, if all goes well, it will stay that way. he hopes that you’ll turn in early tonight and that by the time you call him the next morning, all worried and apologetic for not checking in, he’ll be able to reassure you that he got back home before nine and spent the entire night studying. he will melt at your sweetness, then turn solid and bitter at the ashy lie on his tongue. but he can’t help it. suguru doesn’t like lying to you, but he can’t avoid it this time.

the truth is, he’s saving up to buy you a gift, and he knows you won’t like that he’s working multiple jobs to get it for you. but it’s something that he wants to do, just because he can. you’re too sweet, too concerned for his well-being to understand. in fact, he can almost see it, your exasperated sighs and furrowed brows as you scold him for doing something so meaningless, insisting that you would’ve been fine without it (but you will still take it, and you will still trace it softly with your fingers every now and then, and to suguru, there is all the meaning in the world in that). he would simply laugh and smooth your furrowed brows with his thumbs, holding your face gently in his hands. he would look down at you with a gaze oozing with so much love that he secretly fears that it might drown you. and as always, he would tell you that a small ‘thank you’ is all he needs (it really is; really, it’s a lot more than what he needs, but he’ll still take it and hide it selfishly under his tongue, savoring it again and again and again until not even the bare bones of your words are left).

his silly lover. his sweet, sweet lover.

his heart flutters, and he can’t help the smile that spreads across his lips.

the summer heat doesn’t feel so unbearable anymore.

—

two months pass, and summer is almost over. suguru has finally saved up enough to buy your gift. he holds the small, white bag tightly in his sweaty hands. he hopes you like it, but if you don’t, suguru will just try again and again and again until he finally finds something that you do like. hopefully even love. to him, it doesn’t sound half bad.

“i got this for you,” he says, taking your hand and folding your fingers around the rope handles of the bag. this way, you’ll have to take it.

inside it is a gold necklace with a small, moon-shaped charm. it glints brilliant and white in the warm light of suguru’s home, and it captivates you. it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, much less owned.

“suguru…” you start, but you don’t know what to say next. 

luckily, you don’t have to say anything. suguru knows you like the back of his own calloused hand. 

“don’t worry,” he says, “i saw it on the way here. i thought it would look nice on you. it’s nothing too expensive.”

this is a lie, of course. really, suguru knew it would look good on you two months ago, when he first saw it in the window of a jewelry shop at the department store. but he would never let you know that.

you stare at the necklace for a moment, and suguru stares at you. he watches as you try to find the right words to say, gaze shifting from the necklace, then to him, then to the necklace, then back to him again. a warm sense of pride rises inside him, and he can barely hide the smile on his face now. 

“do you like it?” he grins, “i’ll put it on for you.”

he grasps the ends of the necklace and moves behind you to do the clasps. his fingers brush against the soft, untouched skin of your neck, and he is a teenage boy again, praying that his sins go unnoticed by the gods. as he does this, you turn your head back to look up at him. there’s a sweetness spilling through his ribs and it’s almost too much. his chest squeezes tight, lest any of his heavy, heavy love spills onto you. when he finishes, he turns you around to get a good look. 

ah. 

you look beautiful. 

he knew it.

“thank you so much,” you say, “really. thank you. i don’t know how to–”

“if you like it, then that’s all that matters,” suguru cuts you off with a wide smile. 

he doesn’t understand why you thank him so profusely—you deserve more than just a necklace after all (would his entire being be enough? would you take him if he begged you to?)—but he’ll still savor it. the words that fall from your lips are even sweeter than he had ever imagined words could be, and he never wants you to thank anyone else ever again. he’s a selfish, selfish man. will you ever understand?

he would buy you a thousand more necklaces. he would love the world for you (hatred is easy; finding love for such an ugly, powerless thing is much harder, suguru thinks). you only need to ask. all you ever need to do is ask. 

“but it looks really expensive,” you look up at him with concern. 

“i told you, it was nothing,” he hums, praying that you don’t question him any further. lying to you doesn’t come so easily, and after two months of it, he doesn’t know if he can bear to tell you another.

you look into his eyes, searching for even a hint of a lie. 

suguru holds his breath. 

he will never let you know the truth. you’d hate it. maybe even hate him. it would be far too much of a burden, especially for a necklace. he loves in a way that is suffocating and thick and heavy, and he is afraid that you might realize it for yourself one day. so he will keep the truth, and the barely-there ache in his muscles that comes with it, hidden for himself, tucked away deep inside the space between his heart and his lungs, and you will never have to know. and when you are gone—and he is sure you will be some day, finally tired of just how honey-thick his love is—he will replay this exact feeling until it fades away completely from his memory.

finally, you break out into a wide grin, and suguru’s world becomes a little brighter than before. his arms move to hold you as you bury your face into his chest. despite his age, he still finds his face growing hot, praying that you don’t hear how fast his heart beats. a small part of him even worries that you might even feel his thoughts through his skin, but he pushes that silly thought away. 

“thank you so much,” you laugh, “i love it.”

your laugh rings through his chest, and, just for a moment, he is cleansed of the heavy, leaden feeling inside. thick, black tar turns into flowing water. 

oh. maybe you do understand—have understood, for a long time now. still, you are here.

he chuckles. 

his silly lover. his sweet, sweet lover. 

“i’m glad.”

-

-

-

-

a/n: geto is an unreliable narrator and you don't think of this of him, but he doesn't know that :(( sugu thinks his love is the opposite of what he thinks love should be like (whimsical, light, etc. etc.) :(( and that it's only a matter of time before u realise it and leave him ;(( he's too sweet that's y he's like this my baby

but i dont really like this one ill try better next time <33

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 4.3 - Dating for Weirdos

Alice feels like her brain has been scrambled. How did she end up on a date with some dude who didn’t think she was worth any effort? Her self-esteem was…well, her self-esteem was in the toilet, but still! She had her pride!

Although, probably not enough of it. 

Reasonably, she shouldn’t be afraid. Vlad was not going to lose his shit just because her tone was too sharp, and if he did, she could just leave this date.

Unreasonably, she avoids his gaze and swallows down her rant.

Fucking muscle memory. 

“I’m trying valiantly," Vlad says gently. 

“What?” 

"I want to be the least shit version of myself on this date,” he continues, looking pained, “But even that version leaves a lot to be desired. I’m a difficult sim to be around, and so far, despite skipping my Civil Procedure class today to read a self-help book on using imagination to increase my charisma, I fear I’ve failed.”

Trying and failing is something Alice is pretty familiar with. And Vlad doesn’t lack charisma, per se. It was just kind of hidden behind his aura of “find out even if you don’t fuck around.” 

“What was the advice?” she asks, giving him what she hopes is a friendly smile. 

“Imagine a better version of myself,” he smirks, “And introduce you to it.”

“Kind of shit advice,” Alice murmurs. 

Vlad laughs, and she relaxes, “Ok, so was this the introduction to the newly developed, less shitty version of your personality, or do you have something else planned for later?"

“Usually, I’m better prepared, but no, this mediocre showing is the best I could come up with.”

“I give it a 4 out of 10,” Alice scrunches up her face, “Which makes me sort of concerned about your future as an attorney who needs to sway a jury.”

As soon as the words fly out of her mouth, anxiety pools in her stomach. But Vlad simply throws back his head and guffaws. 

“Very fair,” he concludes, wiping the tears from his eyes, “I don’t ever plan to practice law, but even if I did, I’m not worried about manipulating a jury of my peers.”

“Why not?”

“Universally, sims are stupid when they get into groups, and I have no problem lying. The hard part is that I want you to know the truth of me and like it.”

“Oh, I…” Alice jolts at his expression. Even guys she’s really liked have never looked at her with that sort of intensity.

“Ask me a question. Trust me, you'll know immediately if you have any interest in seeing me again.”

Alice hesitates. She could ask something basic to confirm that Vlad is a normal sim, but it’s pretty clear that the answer to that question is no. And the last time she fell for normal, it gave her a black eye.

“If you had any supernatural power, what would it be?”

“Paralyzing sims with fear and the ability to become a sentient mist so I could leave any conversation.” He taps a finger to his lip, “And enough strength to crush someone’s bones.”

“Messy,” Alice giggles. “What are you gonna do with all that bone dust?”

“I’m envisioning crushing their bones inside their body so it’d be more like a hearty stew as opposed to a pile of dust.”

“You would eat them?”

He shrugs. “Waste not, want not.”

It is an absolutely wild answer. Alice flashes him a grin. “The power to turn sims into mushy take-out meals. Got it.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m not turning sims into bone soup.”

The corner of his mouth tilts up. “You can't. As we’ve discussed, that power has already been taken. Might I suggest flight or rotting someone’s flesh with the snap of a finger?”

Alice laughs, and just like that, her appetite returns with a vengeance. “I like the true you,” she says as the waitress sets down Vlad’s order.

He smiles and begins dividing everything in half, shoveling it onto an empty plate that Alice didn’t even notice was on the table. He slides it over to her. “I’m relieved. Now, the pancakes are to die for and I promise no sims have been harmed in the making of this food.”

PREV | NEXT

(Part 3 of 4)

[canadiannationalfox]

Murder Drones - Tessa x J Drabble - Admission of Love

The sun glistened in through the stained glass window of the hexagonal room at the back of the Elliott manor, the sounds of Tessa humming a melody and the soft whirr of J's internal fan came from the room. Louisa and James were away on a trip to a manufacturing plant in New Zealand, so that meant Tessa and her drones had complete domain over the manor. Cyn, V and N however, had busied themselves with watching some movies about dogs and sports down in the library, so Tessa and J were spending the afternoon together.

J sat on the window sill bench, enjoying the breeze from the open smaller windows while watching the birds in the trees. She felt the gentle tug of Tessa's hands running through her soft silver hair. Tessa stood behind J, playing with her first and favourite girl drone's wig. She stopped humming the melody to a song about being set free and eternal rest and dreams before she asked to J, "It's lovely up here, isn't it?"

J calmly responded as she relaxed her shoulders, "It reminds me of when you were little, Tessa." She smiled as she watched some blue jays hopping along the branches and trilling their songs while her favourite human styled her hair back up into her signature ponytails. "Whether I was reading you fairytales, or we were having tea parties or pretend sword fights or you letting me try on some of your dresses, it was always magical."

Tessa assessed silently before she reached to the table beside her and picked up the rechargeable curling iron she stole from her mom now that it had warmed up. She rolled the ponytails around the heated cylinder of the styling too carefully to not burn herself. "And you can't forget times like these."

J laughed a little, remembering out-loud, "Though the last time you tried to use the curling iron, you scared me to death. I'm so so glad it was just a minor burn."

"It was alright, you were there to make it all better, J," she reassured lovingly, letting the freshly formed curl slide from the clasp, it bounced slightly as it came to its resting place at the left side of J's head. Tessa wound the next section of hair on the curling iron as she asked in a sweet little voice, "Jay bird? Do... do you like spending time with me?" her tone became somber, "Or, is it just because Father and I built you to be my assistant." As soon as she let the second wide curled ponytail free of the curling iron, Tessa was slightly startled by J turning her head a little more than 90 degrees to look at her.

J insisted firmly, her tone severe but loving, "Tessa, I love every second I'm next to you." She turned her whole-self to face Tessa, took the curling iron out of Tessa's hands and continued to explain, "And all the wonderful memories make working for the company worth it. So don't you ever dare think for a second that I don't love you..." She stared in shock at what she said before trying to backtrack sheepishly as she turned off the curling iron and set it back down, "I mean... Don't think for a second that I don't like spending time with you."

Tessa's tears were replaced now with a dorky grin. "You said you love me, Jaybird."

The LED blush indicators showed on the worker drone maid's face.

Tessa kissed J on the forehead gently and reassured as she cupped the noble robot's right auditory sensor, "I love you too, so much..." She pulled the robot girl into a tight hug, she whispered to J, "I know Father and I built you as a way to keep me busy, and life hasn't always been easy, but when we have time together, J. It's so wonderful, I wouldn't trade it for anything."

J chimed in as she hugged back, trying not to be mad upon mentioning her least favourite coworker, "Not even, N? Your other favourite?"

Tessa responded warmly, "He may make me happy too, but you make me feel safe and at home."

Those words made the silver-haired drone feel so happy.

The two hugged for a little while before they broke their hug.

Tessa giggled as she looked at J's curls, "Oop! Forgot to fluff up your ponytails, Jaybird," she picked up the hairbrush and invited cheerily, "Let's finish making you look exactly how you like to look."

J smiled and turned back around, closing her LED eyes happily as she felt the warm sun on her face and also Tessa's gentle efforts at gliding the hairbrush through her curls to fluff them up. She liked now the words she had said by accident earlier, now saying them again but intentionally, her often harsh voice soft as a nightingale's song, "I love you, Tessa, my beautiful princess."

Tessa responded, her precious Aussie voice also soft and full of love, "I love you too, my wonderful Jay bird."

To Be Continued

[the-raindeer-king]

your Simon neurodivergent partner thing giving me brainworms bc I am uh, a little freak :3 I forced one of my boyfriends to father a long furby with me before he dumped me. I spend 90% of my time playing video games. I need someone who will tolerate my freaky little shit, ugh you’re so right Simon would love a little freak

First off, sorry about the breakup. Hope you're doing okay.

Second, yes!!! I, myself, am a little freak!! I also have a long furby, and I keep joking that it's my child and it will have babies soon. (My husband doesn't entertain this exact train of thought. Just stares unamused, which tbh Simon would do the same thing lmao)

You can infodump as much and as often as you want because Simon doesn't mind listening, and he loves the sound of your voice. Helps him decompress after missions, and reminds him that you're still alive.

I think he hates birthdays and Christmas (or whatever holiday you celebrate!) Because he never knows what to get people.

But you? His little dove?

You make gift giving so easy because all he has to do is give you something related to your hyperfixation. Regardless of how scarce merch is, or how expensive shipping is, he's getting it.

Because seeing you happy makes him happy. :)

[pastel-rights]

And then I finally end it off with some doodles of them… they make me feel things.