#but only until the end ! then i will be sick and twisted once more

[takumiraine]

Once upon a time Chapter 6

In which Danny has a bad night and Jason is conflicted.

<first> <prev> <next>

“So you know how your friend walks home from GU?” Oracle asked, apropos nothing one night while Jason was mid patrol. The pit had been angry, and Jason was just looking for a fight.

“Now is not the best time to talk about him O,” Jason growled, swinging between buildings just to feel the brief rush of adrenaline from stepping off the roof of a building and falling. Watching the ground rush up to meet him. The pit had been angry over the last half hour, and it was only seeming to get worse.

“Alright. Just thought you’d want to know he is in a 6v1 in the Bowery and B is on his way.” Her tone was nonchalant, with an air of ‘have it your way’ even though he knew she knew he wouldn’t be able to leave it at that.

Jason, to his credit, did not splat on the ground or crash into a wall. But it was a near thing. “What?”

“I thought now wasn’t the best time?” She teased, before sending the location to his visor. “From the looks of things, he’s been trained by someone. Just did a sick Judo throw that would make A proud.”

“Is B going to get there first?”

“Oh yeah.” Jason groaned. It wasn’t going to go well.

“Can’t reroute him?”

“You want to tell him why?” Nope. Abso-fucking-lutely not.

“No”

“There’s your answer.”

Jason groaned again, trying his best to swing faster. The closer he got, the more the pit writhed.

—-

Danny met the eyes of Batman, his grin dropping into a scowl. “Why are you here?” He asked, hands clenching back into fists.

“I came to help.” Batman said, beginning to zip tie the criminals hands.

“Help? Help?” Danny scoffed, kicking a rock towards Batman’s feet. “Now you want to help? I don’t need it anymore.” Danny took a step towards him, finger pointing in his direction menacingly. Batman paused and looked down at him again.

“I am very sorry I did not get here sooner, young man. But-“ Danny stormed towards him, getting into the masked superhero’s face.

“But you’re years late guano-man. I asked. And I asked. And I begged. All you” Danny jabbed him in his armored chest with two fingers, core screaming a litany of -rage-hurt-fear-“sent were those government assholes. You call yourselves heroes up there in that fancy ass tower, with your billionaire’s funding, but the reality is, if someone doesn’t live in one of your protected towns then they’re on their fucking own!” Danny shoved him back, and Batman took a couple steps then looked at something above and behind Danny’s head. He didn’t even have the time to look before Batman spoke.

“Hood, now is not the best time.”

Danny spun then, eyes widening then narrowing. “And you!” He stomped over to Red Hood, jabbing him in the chest for good measure. “Are you following me?! First with the stabbing, and I’m not even in your territory and you’re here! you claim you’re not with this asshole, but you’re here? You-“

Danny stopped himself mouth dropping open and core twisting into -recognition-shock-betrayal-angry- eyes glowing green before he could stop them. “oh this is fucking rich. You are stalking me. Knowing where I live isn’t enough? You have to insert yourself into my fucking life?” He backed away from the two masked vigilantes getting both of them into his eyeline. “None of you, or anyone else in your little justice mafia, ever talk to me or try to help me again.”

Danny backed up, circling until he was clear of both of them. Then once he was far enough away, he broke into a run, turning the corner at the end of the block.

—-

“Fuck.” Jason muttered as he realized he had been found out. Seeing the Lazarus green in Danny’s eyes, feeling the fear, shock, betrayal and anger just rolling off of him, his own pit responding in kind.

“Hey B? It was heavily staticked, so I might be wrong, but did the kid say you sent the government after him?” Oracle asked after a long moment of silence.

“He did.”

“I hate that I even have to ask but…. Did you?”

“No. Is there anything we need people on at present?”

Oracle’s typing was heard in their ears for a moment “No, it doesn’t look like it.”

“Recall everyone from patrol to meet at the cave. We need to go over every inch of this and find out what we’re dealing with.”

Jason was slowly moving his hand toward his grapnel. He needed to process this before anything else. Before he could, an engine revved and the Batmobile was pulling up.

“Hood. In.”

“But-“ Jason began to argue, only for Bruce to shake his head. Batman pointed and Jason felt like he was a kid getting caught stealing tires again. The pit in him demanded he fight back, but after a standoff that he knew felt longer than it was he slid into the passenger seat, door shutting behind him.

“He acted like he recognized you.” Bruce said after getting in himself.

“Yeah.” Jason wasn’t going to be forthcoming just yet he was still trying to process what the fuck just happened.

“Hm.” He could feel every ounce of focus not on the road on him and it rankled.

“Just come out and say it B,” Jason snapped.

“You know what.”

“Maybe I don’t. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Hm.” God he was so much like Damien. The apple fell from that tree and became nestled safely on the next branch down.

Thankfully the conversation was interrupted by the clicks of several people joining the main comm line.

“Hey, I heard the recall.” Dick. Great. Just what he needed. Big brother swooping in. “Everyone have their limbs?”

“Possible compromise situation.” Was the only reply Bruce gave. Jason resisted the urge to slump in his seat like a child being picked up from school for fighting.

“I’ll be in asap.” Dick had to be the responsible first born. Asshole.

“I’m also on about the same time frame. Orphan and I are just handing off a minor robbery.” Spoiler’s voice chimed in.

“Robin and I are en route from the south. Riddler was trying to be clever and we were having fun breaking his riddles before he could even finish his spiel.” Red Robin seemed smug. Really those two were the only ones that found Eddy boy the slightest bit amusing.

“I believe he was considering checking himself back into Arkham he was so frustrated with our prowess.” Damian’s smugness was rolling off him through the comm chat.

There was a little bit of extra chatter as they wrapped up the eta conversation, but Jason was trying to decide if he could dive out of the Batmobile and escape before Bruce could turn around.

As if reading his thoughts, Bruce looked over at him and gave him a look. He knew Oracle was keeping an eye on their route too so driving wasn’t needed to be a focus. Jason frowned and even though the mask hid it, he was sure Bruce knew.

When they got to the cave and parked, Bruce got out and removed the cowl. He stood there, watching as Jason got out, pulling his own helmet off. He could still feel the pit scraping his insides, and looking for an escape. How much was his and how much was Danny’s Jason didn’t know.

“Explain before the others get here.”

Jason turned and walked deeper into the cave, taking his usual spot against the wall. “About a month ago, I interrupted a mugging turned stabbing. Kid ran off with the knife still in him. O gave me basic info and I joined GU to start my threat assessment. He hates Batman and the assorted heroes, hadn’t said why, isn’t fond of Bruce Wayne because he supports the JL financially. Had some potential for becoming a rogue in the future but mostly just wanted to be left alone.”

Bruce gave a hum, settling at the Bat Computer and typing. Not making notes, but looking through the information Oracle had already collected. When Jason didn’t continue, Bruce turned to look at him again.

“Kid was broke. Looked like hell, so I fed him and paid him to catch me up in math. Even though he’s in remedial classes he’s practically at the replacement’s level. He said he had spent most of high school ghosting his classes because they were murder. Seeing his eyes today…. I believe he was being very literal. We…. Became friendly. He did not know who I was until tonight.”

“How did that happen?”

“The pit reacted to him. It… usually does, but not as intensely as tonight. It seems to be tied to his emotional state. He was pissed at you so… What did you do to the kid?”

Bruce sighed. “I’ve never met him before. I think that might be the problem.”

Jason scoffed, standing in silence and staring at Bruce’s tortured expression. Bruce, six foot two slab of muscle, who had just been yelled at by a scrawny young man easily six inches shorter and weighing a hundred pounds less.

Danny had fire, Jason would give him that. Blood pouring from his nose, the start of two black eyes from the break and still facing two masked vigilantes who were known for beating people up, or killing them in Jason’s case, like they were part of the problem.

It was…. It was kind of hot if Jason was being honest. The kind of hot he would openly deny and take to his grave (again).

One by one the different groups joined them in the cave. All in their patrol outfits. All of them staring at Jason and Bruce like they were expecting an announcement of Armageddon beginning.

Once they were all assembled, Oracle popped up on one of the screens.

“So here is what we know.” Bruce began a rundown of the night, starting with Danny getting jumped by some of Scarecrow’s guys and putting them all in their place before yelling at him and recognizing Jason.

Oracle put the cleaned up video of Danny fighting the guys on screen, and if Jason hadn’t thought Danny was hot before…. He would most certainly have now. The way he used his opponents’ weapons and momentum against them? It was beautiful. Danny at one point jabbed a goon in the stomach with one of the batons he stole, then kicked a second goon into him, sending them both sprawling. And the judo throw was nothing short of artistry.

“This is the concerning part.” Oracle zoomed in on Danny’s eyes during the confrontation with Jason. One second they were normal, the next they were very clearly glowing. Jason knew that shade of green too well.

“Have you managed to get any background on him?” Dick asked, eyeing both him and Bruce carefully.

“Only the basics and even then I’m pretty sure it’s doctored. I’ve tried doing reverse image searches on him, both with and without the enhancements I’ve done,” she popped up a side by side of various before and after pictures showing Danny in various states of glitching and the reassembled image from her work. “Every time I try to get anything more I run into this.” She put up what looked to be a standard ‘access required’ page complete with ‘To gain access please call’ and then a number.

“I’ve looked for any sneaky back entrances but they all seem pretty well guarded. I can get in but I would definitely be noticed.” For Oracle to admit that? That was some pretty high tech protection.

“Let’s call the number. Anyone got a burner they don’t want anymore?” Spoiler looked around, holding out her hand. Jason pulled one out of his belt and tossed it to her.

“O, pull my shit off of it?” He asked, planning on transferring all of his more illicit activities to a new number next week anyways.

“Done and done.”

Stephanie dialed and put it on speakerphone. It rang twice then there was the click of the line picking up. “Government Information Warehouse. Please state your name and identification number.”

“Oh my goooood, that asshole!” Stephanie had her high school voice on with just the faintest bit of squeal and complete with twirling her hair around her finger, even though those in the cave were the only ones who could see. “sorry, sorry, not you. I met a really hot guy. Like, hot hot, you know? And I thought we were really vibing. And he gave me his number and I was like, score! But then I call it and I get you! So like, I’m really sorry I won’t call again!” She hung up.

“Well that was disturbing.” From Tim who got an elbow in the ribs from Stephanie. “Steph’s acting aside, what’s our next play B?”

Bruce looked thoughtfully at the screen.

“Let me talk to him.” Jason was speaking before he was even aware of it. “Maybe…. He can explain.”

“He looked like he was a second away from punching you too little wing. You think he’ll talk?”

Jason had no idea. “Fifty fifty. Maybe better if we give him some time to calm down.”

“So long as nothing else happens, you have one week to let him calm down.” Bruce agreed. “The rest of you, stay extra vigilant. Frequent check ins when on patrol, and when away from the manor. Anything abnormal, no matter how small gets reported immediately.” The various bats and birds gave their agreements and started filing up to the manor for whatever food Alfred had laying around no doubt.

Jason stayed, debating going up. He had one week to figure out how he was going to do this.

One week was not a lot of time.

[shaunamilfman]

the ghost you dressed up as [8]

pairing: Jackie Taylor x Shauna Shipman x r summary: Continues off where seven ends. Just smut really. note: last chapter, and the smut you've been waitinggg for masterlist

“This is sick, even for you,” You comment idly, tone far too casual for the accusation. Still, you don’t bother to move your hand from where it cups the side of her face, enjoying the feeling of her warm skin against your hand.

It shouldn’t surprise you how quickly she switches between predator and lover. Really, if you think about it you wonder if there is even a difference for her. Isn’t the violence just foreplay?

Shauna gives you that infuriating grin, utterly unashamed as she leans back against the car door. Her messy hair and swollen lips paint a clear picture of what has her breathing hard, both of which have nothing to do with the murders you’ve just committed. There’s blood smeared across her cheek, but you’ve come to expect it at this point.

You’ve had to bat her hands away more than once, refusing to let those still-bloody fingers find their way to your skin. Her eyes are focused on yours, something dark and amused present as she just watches. It makes something in your stomach twist in a way you wish it wouldn’t. There’s such a thrill in it, and you can’t find it in yourself to deny it.

She revels in the bloodshed she causes, even more so in the way you're still standing by her side afterward like you might just kiss her again. You can still picture the way Jeff had looked as he bled out beneath you, those dumb, trusting eyes wide with a mix of fear and betrayal. He hasn't even had time to scream–just a few gasping breaths as he went down. He’d hit the ground so hard you almost feared he’d somehow fall through the floor, but Shauna was quickly there to urge you on.

The body was still warm when you left; Jeff barely finished bleeding out. But that’s not what unsettles you. It’s her. Always her.

“You liked it,” Shauna says, sounding excited at the very thought of it. 

Her head turns just slightly to the side, studying you with a look far too intimate for the situation. It’s like she can see everything, all the way down to the bone. Dissecting you with just her eyes. You shift uncomfortably, feeling stripped of all of your pretenses.

It’s that knowing edge to her smile that makes you want to wrap your hands around her throat, if only to keep her from speaking. It wouldn't be hard. You know how much pressure you'd need to apply and how long you'd need to squeeze until she just stopped being a problem. Stop being a thing that threatens to unravel you. 

You hate when she hints at things you don’t want to admit.

Shauna smiles again, like she can tell what you're thinking. Some part of her would welcome it at first, you know. She'd love the fight, the raw intensity of it. The way she'd gasp for air as your fingers tightened, and tightened. She wouldn't give in immediately, not Shauna. She'd claw at your hands, punch at anything she could reach. Until you didn't let go. Until you just keep holding on and the panic sets in. Even then, some part of her would still want it–would crave the moment she couldn't fight back anymore. 

Don't you just want to give it to her? 

Your fingers twitch with the urge, hands up to her shoulders before you even realize what you're doing. You press her back into the car, pulling her head back with a handful of her hair. She gasps as her head arches back, eyes wide with delight. 

“You like this, too,” She whispers, glancing down at your lips. Not a taunt, just the truth. “Don't you hide from me.”

Her head tilts back, neck exposed, showing off the mark you'd sucked into her skin last night. 

“Did you like it, Shauna?” You say finally, a thumb on Shauna's chin as you turn her head to the other side. Leaning down to mouth at the empty side of her neck, you add, “Knowing I killed Jeff?”

Shauna's breath catches in her throat, her fingers tightening around the shoulders of your shirt. She pulls you closer, like the mere mention of the memory excites her again. The answer is obvious: in the way her body arches, in the sounds she makes, the gleam in her eyes showing everything but remorse. She wants it. She loves it. 

Just like you. 

You wrinkle your nose in distaste as Shauna grabs at the side of your face, leaving bloody smears across your skin. It's warm, sticky, a constant reminder of what the three of you had done tonight. But the look in her eyes–wild, dark, the lingering thirst for violence–makes all of it worth it. Her grip is firm as she lowers you down to your knees, unrelenting in her desire to have you. 

“You showed up to a murder wearing a dress?” You ask, the corners of your lips twitching into something of a smile as you work her panties down her legs. 

Shauna rolls her eyes, propping her knee over your shoulder as she grabs a handful of your hair. “Jackie likes it,” She says simply, like that explains everything. It does, in a way. Jackie likes it, so Shauna wore it. You know what it's like to bend to Jackie's whims, happily doing things you'd never normally do just for a glimpse of that pleased smile. Shauna's no different: both of you marching to the beat of Jackie Taylor's drum. 

You laugh under your breath as you follow Shauna's insistent tugging up her thighs, leaving as many marks on her skin as her impatience allows. Her breath hitches, her body reacting to your advances even as she's still urging you higher. 

Shauna's leg tenses around your shoulder, her thigh rubbing against the remnants of blood on your face and smearing across the inside of her thigh. As she digs the heel of her shoe into your back, you finally close the distance as you bury your face between her thighs. She lets out a quiet noise as your tongue makes first contact with her wetness, bucking into your face until your hands firmly pin her hips back against the cold metal of the car door. 

The hem of her dress bunches around your shoulders, brushing teasingly against the back of your neck as you mouth at her cunt. 

“Hate that you're so good at that,” Shauna grumbles as your tongue flicks at her clit, as much of an encouragement as it was a reproach. The way her thighs tremble gives her away regardless, nails digging into your scalp as she loses herself in her pleasure.

Shauna's hand pries the fingers from one hand away from her thigh, bending your pinky back until you yelp and let go before she leads it pointedly up to the hem of her dress. You wish you could see the way she's looking at you, knowing how intense her eyes must look. 

“How many?” You ask breathily, pulling away just long enough to speak, lips brushing against her skin. 

“Three.” 

“Three?”

“Three,” She insists impatiently, tugging at your hair in reproach. You're nothing if not obedient in this, and only this, brushing three fingers against her skin before pressing into her. 

Shauna cries out, the sound mixing together with the lewd sound of her wetness. It cuts off into a whimper as she bites at her hand, regrettably cutting off those wonderful noises as her teeth sink into her knuckles. 

You take her back into your mouth, the taste of her drawing you right back in as you relentlessly circle her clit. You gave it to her hard, furiously, almost punishing–just the way she likes, as she still revels in the violence she's caused. There's something so terribly hot when she gets like this, desperate to hurt and be hurt. 

She responds just as violently, hips bucking as you struggle to keep her up. You can feel her slick heat against your chin with every roll of her hips; you can hear the car window rattling behind her. Shauna gasps loudly, the sound traveling even from around her knuckles as she teeters on the edge. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Shauna whimpers, trying to draw you closer with her leg as she squeezes it around your shoulder. You're supporting almost all of her weight by this point. If you weren't here to hold her up, you're sure she'd be a puddle on the floor. 

Shauna slams her hand against the car door as she comes, over and over, as the door rattles beneath the force of it. She's dented it at this point, there's no doubt in your mind, but poor Kevin Car-nold has seen more than its fair share of dents at this point. She gets so violent when she comes like this, like the sheer force of it is too much for her to handle. If she can't sink her teeth into your shoulder, then whatever’s close enough to her fist is going to take the brunt of her release. 

She just can't stop herself. 

Her thighs are trembling, almost sitting on your shoulders as she leans heavily back against the door. You can hear her ragged breaths even from your knees, wondering what she must look like as you're still hidden beneath her dress. 

You jerk away at the sound of crunching leaves, nearly taking Shauna down to the ground as she stumbles forward with her leg still over your shoulder. 

“You guys started without me?” Jackie asks, sounding utterly betrayed, cellphone and mask still in hand. You groan against Shauna's thigh, who pats your head sympathetically. 

… 

You laugh breathlessly against Jackie's jaw, the sound muffled against her skin as she lets out a frustrated whine into Shauna's mouth. She squirms in your lap, straining against your arm around her hips as she tries to chase after Shauna as she pulls away. The way Jackie shudders when she’s denied what she wants yet again is enough to make you smile, enjoying her little sounds of discontent more than you thought you would.

You soothe the ache Shauna’s retreat causes as you nip at a patch of skin just under her jaw, teeth running across already bruised skin. Jackie turns on you almost immediately to tear your mouth away from her skin, tightening the grip she’s already had on your hair as she tugs you toward her. Her lips crash into yours, messy and frantic, as she tries to pull you impossibly closer. She’s almost shaking as she presses into you, all gasps and sighs and bitten lips.

Jackie was growing desperate as you and Shauna passed her back and forth–playing with her–each kiss ending just as she got into it before the other would pull her away. She always complains, but you both know how much she loves being treated as a prize. Every time she reached for one of you, the other would respond, leaving her practically trembling as she grabbed at you. Her nails dig into your scalp, taking everything you’re offering and still finding more.

Shauna brushes her fingers across Jackie’s back as she finally has to pull away for breath, sweeping her hair over one shoulder before pressing a kiss against it. 

“Look at you,” Shauna murmurs against her skin, a slow, deliberate phrase that makes Jackie shiver.

“Shauna,” Jackie whines breathily, turning to capture her lips only to be evaded again. Shauna laughs at Jackie’s expression, sharing a quick look with you as she jerks her head. 

You maintain eye contact just long enough for Shauna’s eyes to start to narrow, a warning, before you answer her unspoken demand, sitting up and shifting Jackie off your lap to lower her onto the bed. Jackie’s sheer delight at the position–clearly hoping she’s finally getting the attention she’s been angling for all night–is quickly squashed as Shauna leans over her to kiss you instead.

Jackie’s gasp of surprise is swallowed up by the press of Shauna’s lips against yours. Her hands come up to cup the sides of your face with an uncharacteristic gentleness that’s almost entirely for Jackie’s benefit. Jackie’s hands fist in the sheets as she stares up with wide, impatient eyes, her chest heaving with each breath that leaves her.

“Mean,” Jackie mutters, an ever-familiar note of petulance entering her voice. She rolls her eyes as she props herself up to start working at the buttons of her jeans. You pull away from Shauna to watch, your forehead resting against hers as your eyes watch Jackie’s nimble fingers make short work of the button and zipper.

Shauna’s quick to help, reaching for her ankle and nearly pulling Jackie off the bed in her eagerness to deprive her of her jeans. You grab at Jackie’s shoulders to keep her from ending up as a puddle on the ground, a delighted giggle leaving her mouth as she nearly becomes airborne. 

“Careful,” You chide gently with a laugh of your own, glancing at an unrepentant Shauna over your shoulder.

Jackie’s peal of laughter turns into a sigh as your lips press against her collarbone, trailing down her skin as you take full advantage of the way her shirt’s twisted around in the chaos. You reach for the first button of her shirt, lowering your head to her chest as you follow each one with a kiss against her skin.

Each one’s rewarded with a sigh from Jackie as you move down her chest, her body responding eagerly to the attention. She grabs at your shoulder as you pause to give the sliver of her breast that peeks out of her bra attention, an impatient noise leaving her mouth even as her back arches up against your mouth.

“Greedy,” Shauna comments idly, settling up at Jackie’s hip to get a better view. “You already rushed us through killing–”

“Never mention a boy when–” Jackie starts, only to gasp as you mouth at her chest through the thin fabric of her bra, the words getting stuck in her throat. “When I’m half-dressed ever again. Actually, just don’t in general.”

You can’t help but laugh against the curve of her breast, grinning with delight as Jackie pointedly digs her nails into your shoulder in reproach. She squeals as your cold hands slip beneath the side of her shirt, trailing across her back as you tug at the clasp of her bra. She’s squirming too much from the brush of your fingers for the move to be as smooth as you imagined when you started, but her bra gives way nonetheless, freeing her chest for your attention.

Jackie’s hands find their way back into your hair as she gives herself over to your attention. She’s firmer this time, more insistent, tugging you along as she leads you where she wants you. There’s no need for words to be spoken. The way her nails scrape against your scalp as she moves you lower still says more than words ever could. 

Her breathing gets heavier as you finish off the last few buttons of her shirt, looking down at you with blown pupils as you rest your chin against the tops of her thighs. You grin up at her, making sure she’s looking before you hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties. She lifts her hips off the bed, just as eager to get them off as you are to take them. You pull away just long enough to toss them in the direction of her jeans, but it was long enough for Shauna to strike: her hand already slipping into the place you’ve just vacated, palming Jackie with deliberate pressure.

Jackie gasps, hips jerking into her hand as she braces a foot against the mattress. Her head falls back against the sheets, lips parted as her eyes slip shut. You watch with a mixture of amusement–leave it to Shauna to let you do all the work and sweep in to take the credit–and arousal as Shauna’s fingers work their magic. There’s something undeniably hot about watching her when she’s like this. 

She’s slow, almost teasing as she drags out reactions from Jackie.

You can tell the moment she’s finally slipped her fingers inside, watching as Jackie grabs at Shauna’s arm with a noise that’s just on the verge of being pained. Shauna seems to love giving Jackie just a little too much too quickly, watching with something achingly familiar to the look she gives her victims as Jackie writhes in response. Jackie never complains, clearly just as content to take it.

Rising to your feet, you slowly climb up next to her. Jackie’s almost flailing in her effort to reach your hand, tangling your fingers together as she turns her head for a kiss you’re more than happy to give. You relished the sounds she made, even as muffled as they were–the little whimpers as she pleaded with Shauna to continue, the whines torn from her throat when Shauna angled her fingers just right.

Jackie responds immediately, hips lifting to meet the rhythm only to be pinned back down against the bed by two left hands. She writhes in complaint, almost aching to buck into Shauna’s hand as she pushes at your shoulder. You let her push you away, eyes trailing down to watch as Shauna’s fingers move. “Does it feel good, Jackie?”

“Yes, please, yes.” Jackie clings to your shoulders, caught between her pleasure and her constant desire for more. She sounds so pretty when she begs, her voice barely more than a needy whisper. Her hips move as much as they can beneath your hold, yet another plea she doesn’t even bother to voice. You brush a hand lightly through her hair, scratching your nails against her scalp as she trembles beneath you.

“Always so eager, isn’t she?” You ask almost conversationally as you look at Shauna. Shauna smirks, glancing down at the desperate look on Jackie’s face. She leans down to whisper something in Jackie’s ear, low and teasing, something meant only for her, but the way Jackie’s body jerks tells you it was filthy.

“She just can’t help herself,” Shauna agrees, earning another moan from Jackie as she lazily grinds her palm down against Jackie’s clit.

“You’re just so pretty like this, aren’t you?” You ask softly, watching as Jackie shudders at your words. She nods jerkily, too lost in Shauna to even form words. Jackie lets out a breathless whine as Shauna does something with her hands, legs trembling and toes curling into the sheets but still stubbornly hanging on. Her eyes flutter open, unfocused but clearly so needy.

Jackie likes to hold on when she gets like this, forcing herself to revel in your attention for as long as she can keep it. She got some perverse thrill out of it, in being able to withhold her pleasure till she couldn't stand it anymore. You've never quite understood her reasoning behind it–as if either of you wouldn't come running if she spread her legs. 

“She’s close,” Shauna murmurs, eyes glinting as she watches Jackie closely. She enjoys this almost as Jackie does, enjoying the way Jackie’s body betrays her as she teeters right on the edge.

You lean in, your lips brushing against Jackie’s forehead as you ask, “Please?”

For a moment she resists, body tensing as if to fight against it, but then Shauna’s fingers press just right, and Jackie cries out. Her entire body jerks, hips bucking wildly as the two of you work to keep her pressed against the bed as she falls apart.

She goes slack beneath you, breath coming out in ragged gasps as the aftershocks tear through her. Jackie slaps away Shauna’s hand as it lingers just long enough to make her twitch, a weak glare on her face at the dark look of amusement Shauna gives her as she retreats. You trail your hand across her flushed skin, fingers ghosting across her hips and down her thighs, enjoying the way her muscles twitch beneath your light touch.

“You never make it easy on yourself,” Shauna comments, her voice low and affectionate as she wipes her wet fingers across Jackie’s stomach. Jackie groans grumpily at the action, eyes flickering down to catch the glistening marks across her skin Shauna’s left in her wake before quickly looking away. She’s just the right amount of embarrassed, her pretty face flushing as she squirms, but still undeniably pleased with herself.

“Come on, Jackie,” You complain teasingly, squeezing her thigh meaningfully. “You’re not done yet, are you? I haven’t even had a turn.”

Her head lolls to the side to look at the two of you, still breathless as she bites at her lip thoughtfully. Finally, she nods, letting you spread her legs again as you take your place between them.

If this is what a few murders gets you, who are you to complain?

[fizzytoo]

if i replay bugsnax i can be cured

[obxsummer]

leave me again ii // rafe cameron

pairing: rafe cameron x routledge!reader (she/her), ex!jj maybank x reader

summary: you left the cut with nowhere to go. it’s rafe cameron that finds you and shows you the life you deserved to live

warnings: sorry jj lovers, that man does not get our girl back so sad jj and probably ooc rafe but i love it when that man is soft

navigation || part one

--

Six months.

It had been six months since any of the Pogues had seen you. No social media, no sight of you around town, no letters. Nothing.

The past six months left you to do a lot of reevaluations. You’d walked aimlessly after the group had left for the dive with nothing but your backpack and phone, no destination in mind. Until you found one.

“Lost or something?”

“Fuck off, Rafe,” Your response was instant as you continued to walk without sparing him a look. The car shifted into a different gear, you guessed by the noise, before Rafe was hopping out to approach you.

“Are you okay?” When you didn’t answer, he moved in closer and grabbed your shoulder before turning you to face him. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

You stared at him with the knowledge that you probably looked like a mess with the tear streaks across your cheeks. While Rafe had a lot of issues with your friends and brother, he usually stayed clear of you. Whether that was because you were close with Sarah, or what, you didn't know.

Twisting your fingers together, you dropped your gaze as tears started to build again. “You ever watch someone you love choose someone else over you, every single time?”

The question felt like a punch in the gut to Rafe. He had. His whole life he watched his dad choose Sarah. Watched his mom choose another family over him. Watched Wheezie choose another sibling over him.

“Get in, I’ve got somewhere to take you.”

Six months ago, you hopped in Rafe Cameron’s Range Rover and left The Cut behind. You didn’t question the decision, knowing you’d worry about everyone else before taking care of yourself, and that clearly didn’t work in the past. You felt horribly guilty about leaving John B with no indication whether you were okay or not, but you knew if one of them found out, JJ would be busting down the door to Rafe’s bedroom before you had a chance to say no. 

While you weren’t sure what the original intentions had been, Rafe was so different with you after bringing you back to his new house. One he’d bought after selling Tannyhill, free from the haunting of his father and the screams that echoed off the walls, he had turned it into a safe space for himself and anyone he invited in.

Things blossomed quickly and you realized the Rafe in front of you was not the bully, coke-head addict you’d once known. He was such a gentle person, and so much more attentive to you than JJ had ever been. Whether it was making you breakfast in bed before you left for the day, or prepping a warm (actually warm, like hot water you’d hadn’t had in forever) candle lit bath, or popping an expensive bottle of wine just for you to taste, he was there in ways nobody had been. You were his girl, his only girl, and you never once had to question that.

Rafe had even invited you to sit in on his investment meetings and he was slowly pulling your name into his business so you’d have a professional background to grow into. You were steadily becoming an educated little couple in his home, something he was so proud and grateful for. He had someone to lean on for advice and give him fresh eyes on new projects with no judgment or fear of anger. The two of you soaked up your bubble of peace for as long as you could before shit hit the fan. 

Little did you know, on the other side of the island with your brother, there had been absolutely no peace. John B and JJ barely spoke, everything ending in an argument when they did. Pope was sick of playing mediator, and Kie had more of less shut down out of guilt. Sarah was still searching for you, but you’d gone ghost. Cleo was treading lightly with the knowledge that everything would explode eventually. 

So, they did what they could, and dove into treasure hunting. When JJ pulled the amulet out of his pocket in the back of the Twinkie, John B’s emotions were mixed. Sure, he was stoked that he’d found the object the group was looking for, but he wished you were here. It was your birthday, and John B was inches away from losing his shit without you.

“Dude, are you okay?” Pope asked as the group stood in the office area of the house, trying to find more information on the amulet’s inscription.

John B tossed the heavy object on the desk in frustration. “No, I’m not okay! We can find decades old treasure like it’s the easiest thing ever, but we can’t find jack shit about my sister? That’s bullshit, Pope. And you know it.”

Pope knew things would be sensitive today. Even JJ woke up grouchy, which John B told him was deserved since he caused your absence in the first place. The lack of your presence weighed heavy on the group, so Pope suggested going to visit one of your favorite beach spots. 

Little did he know what he was getting himself into.

--

“Rafe!” The house was filled with your laughter as Rafe twirled you in the kitchen lighting, your favorite song playing from the interactive speaker on the counter. The two of you had spent the day together, visiting the country club for lunch before Rafe took you shopping for something to wear tonight.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Lemme love on you, it’s your birthday” He mumbled as he pressed soft kisses into your neck, hands squeezing your hips teasingly. The soft fabric of the dress he’d picked out covered your frame, the color matching your skin perfectly. 

You hummed in content, fingers holding his biceps tightly as if your knees would give out any second. “You loved on me a lot this morning.”

“Can’t help it.” Rafe’s thumb traced your bottom lip before he kissed you softly. “You make it so easy.”

The two of you got lost in each other for a few more moments, soaking up the quiet as the orange sunset started casting through the windows. Today had been the best day you’d had in so long and you were so grateful of Rafe for giving you so much patience and love.

It had taken time for you to adjust to this kind of life. You walked in here with three outfits to your name, a busted cell phone, and a stuffed animal John B won you at the town festival as kids. And Rafe embraced every bit of it, let you keep your Pogue pieces while building you a life around it that was filled with items you needed but would never ask for, all while loving you so gently.

You climbed out of his car (technically the one he’d bought you but you refused to acknowledge that), and stepped down into the soft sand below. This was your spot, the spot you came to whenever you needed to clear your head or take a moment alone. You’d shared it with Rafe shortly after everything changed, and now, it was a shared spot that you both considered special.

Rafe moved around the car to grab your hand and guide you toward the area he had organized for the two of you. A small white table had been set up with your favorite snacks and two glasses of wine, surrounded by the fluffiest blanket and pillows you’d seen. 

“Did you do this?” You squeezed his hand tighter, tears in your eyes at how sweet and thoughtful the gesture was. Your jaw dropped as the two of you walked closer; everything was thought out down to the tiny forks you loved so much being there to pick up the appetizers. 

“Course I did, baby.” Rafe kissed your temple softly and grabbed one of the glasses to hand to you before taking hold of his own. You clinked your glass against his, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply in appreciation.

And then everything went to shit.

“What the fuck?”

Rafe’s hand tightened against your lower back, both of you looking over to see the handful of figures standing a few feet away. Your heart went to your throat went you made eye contact with your brother, whose hand was wrapped in Sarah’s. JJ stood behind him along with Kiara, Pope, and Cleo, all of them looking at you expectantly.

“Shit,” You whispered and took a step back from Rafe, eyes meeting his in dread. His expression had hardened at the sight of JJ, all the anger rushing back when he thought about how you’d been treated in the relationship, how unfair everything had been. You clocked the frustration in his gaze and placed your fingers on his cheek to redirect his focus back to you. “Don’t. I’ll handle it.”

Rafe’s jaw ticked but he didn’t argue as you slipped your wine glass back into his hand and left his side to approach the group standing in front of you. You weren’t even worried about JJ or Kie, you were worried about John B more than anything.

“Hi,” The greeting was so quiet you almost didn’t hear yourself. How do you talk to people you disappeared on six months ago?

John B’s only response was to pull you into the tightest hug he had ever given. You stumbled with the force of his body colliding with you before regaining your balance and returning the embrace. 

“You’re okay,” He repeated the words to himself as if convincing his mind that they were true before stepping back and holding your cheeks in his hands. The smile on his face was huge, and you were so so confused. “Holy shit.”

“Hi,” You laughed quietly, placing your hands on top of his. “I’m so sorry.”

John B shook his head, his thumb brushing the random tear from your cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I told you to take a break, yeah? And you did.”

You glanced back to where Rafe was surprisingly conversing with Sarah with no anger in sight. The pit in your stomach slowly disappeared as you took them in and turned your attention back to John B. “I um… there’s a lot to catch you up on, and I want to tell you. I wanna tell you all of it, JB, but-”

“And I wanna hear it,” He reassured softly. “But someone put a lot of effort into your night and I don’t wanna steal any of it.”

You were so goddamn grateful for your brother. Pulling John B into another hug, you spared the look over his shoulder to see Kiara stomping away from the beach. You tried to keep a smirk off your face but it definitely made its way through. 

Stepping back from John B, you shared hugs with Cleo and Pope, promising that you would see them soon before you were face to face with the reason you made it here in the first place. JJ looked rough. His hair was chaotic, arms thinner than you remembered, and he just looked tired.

“I don’t want your apology,” You spoke as he opened his mouth. “And it looks like you have a girlfriend to go find anyway.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” JJ replied quickly as he stared at you. “Not anymore.”

You pulled your lips in and shrugged. “Okay. I’ll see you around, JJ.”

He reached a hand out toward you when you moved to walk away. You paused just out of his reach and looked back. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

You nodded. “I know. I should be thanking you actually, because if you had said it back to me that day, I wouldn’t have found something so much better.”

And with that, you walked away from JJ and the empty promises he had always given, walked away straight into the arms of someone who would give you the world and more, if you just so much as asked.

--

navigation 

[theostrophywife]

chicken noodle soup.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

song inspiration: is it really so strange? by the smiths

author's note: just a soft fluffy comfort fic cause i've been thinking about matty lately and i needed cheering up after the end of kwaf. let's all laugh at the fact that i set a 1k limit on this fic only to fail miserably lmao 😭

Mattheo Riddle was not a fan of Mondays. 

Most of the time, Mattheo spent the first day of the week nursing a hangover and getting higher than a hippogriff at the Astronomy Tower with his friends to achieve equilibrium. The only thing he looked forward to every week was the prospect of riling you up in class. To be fair, it didn’t take much to get under your skin. Being himself seemed to do the trick. 

As he walked through the castle halls, Mattheo smiled to himself as he plotted out all the different ways he could provoke you on this dreadful day. For some sick and twisted reason, he reveled in the fact that only he could manage to rouse such a violent reaction out of you. There was something satisfying about the way your eyes blazed, your rosy cheeks tinged with heat as you told him off.

Maybe he'd flirt with you today. Tell you how good you looked in your short little skirt. Watch as you turned as red as the tie around your neck. His pretty little Gryffindor good girl. In Mattheo's mind, you were his to tease and taunt.

With his usual swagger, Mattheo sauntered into Advanced Transfiguration fully prepared to test out his new tactics on his nemesis, but you were nowhere to be found. 

At first, he figured that you were just running late. Throughout the duration of your rivalry, Mattheo had never once witnessed you skip class. He would’ve bet his entire cigarette supply that you’ve had perfect attendance since first year. When Professor McGonagall started the lesson and you were still missing in action, Mattheo was understandably concerned. 

The uneasy feeling in his stomach didn’t mean that he was worried about you though. This was purely about mutual benefit. Mattheo couldn’t very well have his Transfigurations partner skipping out on lessons. Even though he regularly did so himself. But still, that was different. Everyone knew he was a delinquent. You, on the other hand, were anything but. Until today, you’ve probably never missed a class in your life. 

Mattheo waited. Surprisingly, the two of you had the majority of your classes together. All of which dragged more than usual since you weren’t there to yell at him for dicking around. When you still hadn't turned up for Charms or Herbology, he became convinced that something was horribly wrong. Missing one lesson was alarming, but three in a row? That was entirely out of character for you. 

When Professor Sprout finally dismissed the class, Mattheo sauntered over to Granger’s desk. As always, she was surrounded by her two dimwit friends who immediately tensed the second he loomed near. Potter and Weasley shot him matching menacing glares, but Mattheo ignored them entirely. 

“Granger,” he drawled, leaning against the wooden desk. “Care to tell me where my partner’s been all day?” 

The Gryffindor girl appeared a bit perturbed by the question. “Why do you want to know where Y/N is?” 

Mattheo sighed in exasperation and produced the set of notes he’d taken during class. A first for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually listened to an entire lesson, let alone take notes, but he knew that you would have a million questions for him when you returned. The notes were his way of saving himself from your relentless interrogation. 

“Figured the little know-it-all would want my notes.” 

“Y/N is feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermione said cautiously. “I can take the notes to her if you’d like.” 

“No.” Mattheo declared rather suddenly. He cleared his throat and attempted to smooth over the sharp response. “No, McGonagall tasked me with it. I don’t want her docking points from my house when she finds out that you did my dirty work for me.”

Hermione raised a brow. “Sure.” The quirk of her mouth told Mattheo that she wasn’t convinced by his excuse. “Well, Y/N is resting up in the tower if you fancy a visit.” 

After a quick detour to the kitchens, Mattheo made his way over to Gryffindor tower. It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the lion’s den. He simply threatened a third year to let him in and got on with it. They truly needed to upgrade their security measures. One glare was all it took for Creevey to crumble and cave. 

With a satisfied smirk, Mattheo walked past the gaudy common room. For Salazar's sake, hadn't the Gryffindors ever heard of subtlety? The decor consisted solely of crimson and gold and the furnishings looked like something out of that muggle show his nan loved to watch—Antiques Roadshow. Antique was right. The worn out couch that he passed looked older than him.

Merlin, now he was starting to sound like Malfoy. Mattheo hurried along before he caught the urge to fold origami notes and chuck it at Potter's head. Fortunately for him, the place was devoid of the Chosen One or anyone for that matter.

By now, his fellow classmates were all in the Great Hall eating dinner, which he was thankful for. It was no secret that Mattheo’s presence wouldn’t be welcome here and he wasn’t really in the mood to fight his way through the Gryffindors just to deliver a note from the kindness of his black heart. Thank Salazar that there wasn’t a single soul in the tower to bicker with. Until he reached your dorm, of course. 

The relationship between the two of you was volatile to say the least. Despite Mattheo’s reputation, you weren’t shy about telling him off. When you were first assigned as partners, Mattheo had fully intended to let you do all the work while he skipped class to smoke, but he quickly realized that this would not be the case. You hunted him down at his hideout in the Astronomy Tower and discovered him blissfully sharing some premium grade mirthroot with Theo and Draco. When you found him, you were so angry that you dragged him by the ear all the way to the library, much to the amusement of his friends. Needless to say, Mattheo never missed a study session again. 

In a way, Mattheo admired you for it. Aside from his friends, everyone in the castle feared him. It was sort of refreshing to have someone call him out on his shit. Especially if that someone was a funny, feisty, ferocious Gryffindor who he enjoyed pestering every chance that he got. Mattheo always did have a penchant for girls with an attitude problem. 

Even as he knocked on your door, the Slytherin boy couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard you grumbling from the other side. 

“Oh, for Godric’s fucking sake, what is it now?” 

The door swung open, revealing a very pissed off Y/N. Clad in striped pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, you placed a hand on your hip and frowned. Even in the throes of sickness, you still somehow managed to inject venom in your glare. Mattheo grinned like an idiot. 

“Nice slippers, princess.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Riddle?” 

“To make sure my partner doesn’t slack.” He waved his set of notes around. “Don’t think your sickness excuses you from studying.”

“This is payback for making you revise with me after you fell off your broom and broke your arm, isn’t it?” 

Mattheo cringed as he recalled the quidditch accident that sent him to the infirmary for a week. In true Y/N fashion, you were sitting by his bedside with a stack of books in your lap the second he woke up. Madam Pomfrey hadn't even put his arm in a sling yet before you were drilling him on proper spell enunciation and wand movements.

“You terrorized the infirmary with your mnemonics,” Mattheo said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s my turn now. This is sweet revenge, Y/N.” 

You squinted at his barely legible handwriting. “I’m just surprised you took your head out of your arse long enough to take notes.” 

“Glad to see that illness hasn’t lessened your bite. If anything, those teeth seem a little sharper than usual.” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled down at you. “Feeling a bit feral, princess?” 

“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?” you quipped, baring your teeth at the aggravating boy. 

The gesture appeared intimidating for a full second until you sniffled and launched into a coughing fit, which made Mattheo frown. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Of course I am. I regularly cough my lungs out on nosy Slytherins whose sole purpose of existence is to make my life a living hell.”

He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. The way his brow furrowed strangely resembled concern. Mattheo trained his chocolate brown eyes on you, examining the rosiness of your cheeks and the slight pinch of discomfort in your features.

"You're burning up." Mattheo's hand dropped from your forehead to the side of your neck. He pressed his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the erratic beating of your heart underneath his touch. It was strangely intimate. "You have an elevated heart rate."

You flushed and swatted his hand away. "Well, yes. That usually happens when one is ill."

"Come on, you should sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do, Riddle."

Mattheo rolled his eyes before dragging you by the elbow. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he barged his way into your dorm and walked you over to the bed. You watched as he pulled up a chair next to you before rifling through the contents of his backpack. Out of the sordid mess of his belongings, Mattheo produced a small container of soup. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a spoon. 

“Here, have some of this. It should help.”

As soon as he pried the lid open, the heavenly smell of chicken noodle soup filled your senses. Mattheo scooped up an equal amount of soup and noodle and blew on it to cool it down before tilting it towards you. The sight of him offering you food like you were some helpless toddler was only slightly insulting. You swore to Godric that if Mattheo started making airplane sounds, you’d strangle the bloody twat.

 “I can feed myself, you know.” 

“Just eat the damn soup, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes in return, but obliged nonetheless. Despite the source, you could never resist comfort food.

“Chicken noodle soup?” 

As soon as you tasted it, you knew that it wasn’t just soup. It was your favorite soup. The very same one that Winky made every third Wednesday of the month. You knew because you looked forward to it every time. It was even marked on your calendar. That’s how much you liked it. 

Mattheo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite so I bribed Winky to make some.” 

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “How do you know it’s my favorite?” 

For once in his life, Mattheo looked utterly uncomfortable. He averted his gaze and busied himself by stirring through the carrots and celery. “You, uh, mentioned it in class once.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the fever talking, but you thought that was sweet. “You remembered that?” 

Mattheo looked up, a stray curl kissing the tops of his cheekbones as he met your gaze. The shy smile on his face was alarmingly endearing. Sometimes when you looked at those angelic curls and stupid big, brown eyes, you forgot that you were supposed to loathe him. “Of course. It’s my favorite too.” 

You chuckled, sniffling a little. “It’s like a hug in a cup, right?” 

The curly headed boy nodded. “It totally is.” 

After you finished the soup, you expected Mattheo to take his leave. Instead, he inspected the vials of potions laying out on your night stand. He read through every label, frowning a little. 

“You should really have some pepperup potion in here.” Mattheo remarked as he arranged the vials one by one. “Are you sure this dose is potent enough? Maybe you should ask them to brew something stronger.” 

“Pomfrey prescribed them herself. No offense, but I think I’ll take her years of healing experience over your expert opinion.” Mattheo gasped rather dramatically, which made you chuckle. “As much as I appreciate the notes and the soup, I don't think it's wise for you to stick around. I’m feeling a bit better, but I might still be contagious.” 

Mattheo shrugged. “It’s alright, I’m not scared of a little cold. Besides, I still have to go over the Transfiguration assignment with you.” 

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get you sick?” 

“Not really,” he said, waving off your concern. “I know you’re going to pester me about everything you missed in class, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.” 

To your surprise, Mattheo’s notes were extremely detailed.  It was a bit hard to read given his boyish scrawl, but with a little help in translation, you were making great progress in becoming fluent in Riddle. The more Mattheo explained the concepts and ideas that were discussed in each class, the more baffled you were. You've always known that he was smarter than he let on, but this was borderline impressive.

“How do you know all of that?” 

“I asked.”

“You asked?” Mattheo stared blankly at your surprised expression. “You never ask questions in class.” 

“I never had to since you're always there interrogating the professor like the little know-it-all that you are. Thanks to your absence, I had to fill your role in class today.”

You grinned. It grew wider and wider, spreading until your cheeks hurt. Mattheo glared at your joyous expression. “What? What’s that shit eating little grin for?” 

“You missed me.”

Color flooded Mattheo’s cheeks. You were surprised to find how well crimson suited him. It was almost the exact shade of your house colors. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Riddle, you asked questions in class. You took notes for me. You brought me chicken noodle soup." Mattheo flushed as you pointed out the obvious. "You totally missed me.” 

“If you tell anyone, I’ll hex you.” 

“Admit it, Mattheo. Your day was utterly dull without me.” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Fine, you’ve got me. I was bored out of my mind without you around. How else am I supposed to pass the time if you’re not there for me to argue with?” 

“There’s plenty of other people in the castle that you could bicker with.”

“Yeah, but they’re not you.” 

He seemed a little shocked by his own statement, but he didn't try to retract it. In fact, Mattheo almost seemed resigned to it.

“Careful, Riddle. It almost sounds like you have a crush on me.” 

“I’d have to be a bloody idiot to fall for a girl who absolutely despises me.” 

“That wasn’t a denial, you know.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose like the very idea of it vexed him, but you caught the little smile he hid beneath his fingers. Mattheo snatched the notes from your hands. “Focus on the lesson, will you?” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Look at what you’re doing to me, Y/N.” 

“You’ll live, Riddle.” You poked a section of his notes that you hadn’t quite deciphered. “Now what in the bloody hell is the Gobstopper Ruffian?” 

“The Goblin Rebellion. Merlin, my handwriting isn't that bad.” 

“Are you kidding? A kindergartner writes more legibly than this.” 

The hours passed while you bickered and bantered. You hated to admit it, but you missed arguing with him too. Laying in bed all day had you positively bored, but yet time passed within the blink of an eye as you went back and forth with Mattheo. Somewhere between discussing the possibility of Longbottom running an underground exotic plant ring and arguing over the best Smiths song, the sun had set over the horizon. Mattheo rubbed his eyes and yawned. 

“You look knackered, Riddle,” you teased, patting the spot beside you. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”

Chocolate brown eyes widened at you. “Lie down? With you? On your bed?” 

“Yes, that’s typically how people do it.” You smirked as he shot you an apprehensive look. “Unless you’re too scared.”’

Never one to back down from a challenge, Mattheo lifted the covers and gestured for you to make room. “Scoot over, then.” 

The jest seemed to have backfired on you because now Mattheo was crawling into bed and making himself completely at home. All the apprehension from earlier melted as he pulled you against him, his chest pressed against your back as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. You stifled a giggle as Mattheo released a satisfied little sigh. 

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you until you were covered in the scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. You never expected to unearth the fact that Mattheo Riddle was a great cuddler, but yet here you were, reaping the benefits of this newfound revelation. He slipped his fingers through yours and nuzzled closer. 

"Who would've known that Mattheo Riddle was such a great cuddler?"

"If you tell anyone—"

"You'll hex me. Put a curse on my family. Set my possessions on fire. Yes, I know, Riddle. You keep threatening me, but you never follow through. I'm starting to think that you're losing your touch."

Mattheo squeezed your hip before twining your legs together. "I wouldn't test me, Y/N. You're in a very vulnerable position right now."

You chuckled as he scooted even closer. "Maybe, but you won't do anything."

"Why's that, princess?"

"You like me too much," you retorted, chuckling as Mattheo buried his face in your hair. "One day without me and you're already a needy mess."

"You infuriate me," Mattheo whispered against your ear. "But you're also the best part of my day. I couldn't imagine fighting with anyone else but you, my dear nemesis."

"I totally loathe you, Mattheo Riddle."

He chuckled as you snuggled into him. "I loathe you too, Y/N Y/L/N."

The irony of the statement contrasted with how tangled up you were wasn't lost on you. For two people who supposedly hated each other, cuddling with your enemy had never felt so right. The steady beat of Mattheo's heart lulled you towards sleep. You were slowly succumbing to its hypnotic lullaby until Mattheo's voice broke through the silence.

“Y/N?” He murmured against your hair.

You shifted, your eyes feeling heavy as his warmth enveloped you. “Hmm?” 

Mattheo’s voice was low and gravelly, flowing like honey in your ears. “This is nice.” 

You smiled against the pillow, staring at your intertwined fingers. “Better than chicken noodle soup?” 

You felt him grin against your skin before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your temple. “Way better than soup.” 

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @bubybubsters @criesinlies @niktwazny303 @therealallisonspear @athenalikethegoddess @clairesjointshurt @vixzwrites @elle4404

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ so, you've been isekai'd into a romance novel...

type of post: blurbs characters: trey, vil, lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, kissing in vil's part, lilia's is a little suggestive, I can't help myself, not proofread author's note: I've wanted to do an isekai thing for a while, and I do love a good plot twist ;3

So, you've been isekai'd into a romance novel.

The only way to get home? You have to play the part of the protagonist until the novel ends.

There's just one problem, though: you're not into the love interest.

Not at all.

What's worse: you're starting to fall for a side character.

➼ His Best Friend

You started dozing off while your friend was helping you write an essay.

It was for one of those old romance novels about rich people in the English countryside, and you couldn't stand it. You knew you were going to fail when you fell asleep in your chair, thinking that you'd just cram the next day, except...

...Instead of your room, you wake up on a picturesque hill, inside the book you'd been studying.

You hear someone shouting, and you stand. There's a boy coming towards you, yelling a name you don't-

Oh, oh no.

That's the protagonist's name. Which means that can only be-

"There you are!" Riddle Rosehearts, the love interest of the novel, storms up to you.

"Your friends have been worried sick, you know! We've been looking everywhere! You've embarrassed me in front of the entire county!"

You blink, trying to remember what your friend had told you about this book:

The shouting boy, Riddle, is the love interest. Your love interest.

But it doesn't start out the way- in the beginning, he and the protagonist cannot stand each other. He's hotheaded, strict, and has no interest in love. Over the course of the book, the protagonist teaches him to let go and enjoy life, and blah blah blah...

...Yeah, you have no interest in doing any of that. "Enemies to lovers" isn't really your cup of tea.

But if it's the only way out... you can pretend.

"I... fell asleep," you say. This only seems to make Riddle more frustrated.

"You will come back at once, and apologize to my house and to my guests. Else it'll be off with your head!"

He turns and begins marching back to the estate. You roll your eyes and follow him. You're going to have to put up with this for months?

Well... maybe not.

He leads you through the back door, not wanting to "upset the guests any further", and tells you to wait for him in the kitchen.

Great. Just great.

You watch Riddle straighten his tie and walk into the parlor to speak with the guests, prim and proper as ever. Eye roll.

The door opens- not the door to the parlor, but the one you'd just come from. You turn with a curious look.

"Oh!" another boy says. "I apologize, I wasn't... expecting anyone."

After a moment, it hits you- this is the love interest's sensible childhood friend, so unimportant in the plot that he was cut from the movie adaptation entirely.

You raise an eyebrow. "No, it's alright. Beats getting yelled at,"

He blinks, confused by your wording, and then smiles. You know you shouldn't be thinking these things, but it's sort of cute. What was his name, again?

"Ah... I suppose Riddle found you, then?"

"You suppose correctly,"

"Heh," he crosses his arms. "I apologize on his behalf. He was just... worried."

Wonderful. This is the part where he tells the protagonist about the love interest's sad backstory, isn't it?

"I don't really want to talk about him right now," you say. "Honestly, I'd rather hear more about you."

His smile falters, and he seems a little... well, taken aback. As if no one has ever asked him about himself.

"I... I suppose we haven't been properly introduced, have we?" he mutters, adjusting his glasses in nervous habit. You remember reading that. It was cute.

"My name is Trey Clover. My family owns the bakery in town, but I'm afraid it's not as glamorous as this."

He means the Rosehearts' manor. You could care less about that.

"You bake?"

"...I do," Trey says. "You eat?"

It's a stupid joke, but it makes you smile.

You nod, and he goes back outside, returning with a basket.

"These are for the guests..." he says, taking a pastry out of the basket. "...But they won't notice if one is missing."

You accept the treat. "Rulebreaker, are you?"

Trey's face flushes, but he laughs it off.

"Certainly not. Rule-breaking is a dangerous pastime in this household,"

And yet, he did it for you.

You smile back.

Suddenly, Riddle's temper isn't going to be the only difficult thing about playing this part...

➼ His Rival

With a movie adaptation on the way and a permanent spot on the bestseller's list, you had great expectations for this little book.

You'd heard nothing but praise. Even your family members had recommended it to you, saying that it was right up your alley, and they thought you'd love it.

So, finally, you buy the book (which is WAY too expensive), make yourself a warm drink, get cozy in bed, and...

And... it's terrible. It's completely unrealistic! It's downright boring!

Disappointed, you put it down, turn off the light, and try to sleep it off.

Try to, because you wake up disgruntled and groggy, and not in your bed. In fact, you're not in a bed at all.

"There you are!" a voice comes from above you.

You look to see a short, panicked lavender-haired boy. "Where have you been?! You're on in five!"

You rub your eyes. "Huh?"

"Didja hit your head or 'somethin? If we don't get you back on stage, my boss is gonna-"

"Going to what, Epel?" a colder, stronger voice carries across the hall. You both turn to see a meticulously dressed man with a stern look on him, and not a single hair out of place.

...Shit. You know where you are.

This is the romance book you'd been reading!

"S-sorry, Mr. Schoenheit," Epel says. "But it's their fault! They're the one who ran off!"

"I know that," Vil Schoenheit, the antagonist of the story, says. He narrows his eyes. "I'm not surprised our little potato has already quit. Couldn't handle the pressure, hm?"

You blink- oh, no.

You're the protagonist- the normal, nobody student who was ~randomly~ chosen to be the lead in a romantic drama, even though they've never acted a day in their lives.

"I-I just-"

"Enough of that," Vil says sternly. "Now, get up. These costumes aren't cheap, and you're dirtying yours on the floor."

He escorts you out of the hall and back onto set, Epel not far behind.

"Places!" someone shouts, and Epel nudges you into position on the sound stage.

"Remember, you don't say anything in this scene," he whispers, covering his headset mic. "Just look like you're in love. And make the kiss believable!"

Your eyes widen. "The WH-"

"Quiet on set!" the director yells, and Epel hurries away. "Action!"

You stand, dumbfounded, as the doors fly open and the book's love interest, actor Neige Leblanche, runs on set. His outfit is simple but glamorous, his eyes wide with emotion, his dark hair lightly tousled.

Horrifically, he's wearing a generous amount of lip gloss. So are you.

"My love!" he cries out, running up the steps toward you. You watch in horror as he gets closer and throws his arms around you, and just as you're about to have the dramatic, impassioned kiss the book has been leading you to, you push him off.

The director stares. Neige's eyes widen. Epel smacks his forehead.

The rest of the set is silent.

Finally, you feel a cool hand wrapping around your wrist, and suddenly, you're outside again.

"Have you lost your mind?" Vil hisses, his grip on you tightening. "You are making a fool out of all of us. You're an embarrassment to this production, and you should have never even..."

He stops, mid-rant, when he sees your eyes watering.

"...Don't you dare make me feel sorry for you,"

You sniffle, and he sighs. He pulls out a handkerchief and dabs at your eyes, careful not to smudge the stage makeup.

"You're going to ruin someone's hard work like that, you know," he murmurs. "Now, what are you crying about? Isn't this what you want?"

You shake your head. You must look absolutely miserable, because he isn't even a little mad anymore.

"...You're ridiculous," he mutters, tucking the handkerchief away with a faint smile. "But I can't say I blame you. I wouldn't want to kiss him, either."

You take a deep breath, and then return his smile. How can someone so sweet be a villain?

Vil lets the moment linger. His eyes dart to the stage doors behind you, then back to you, and then he holds your chin between his pointer finger and his thumb, and then he kisses you.

It doesn't last for long, but it's enough to leave you dazed when he pulls away.

"...Your lip gloss is smudged," he comments, and then he walks back to set without another word.

...Perhaps this book is more interesting than you'd thought.

➼ His Father

When your friend started gushing about this new dark romance book she finished, you thought she was just reading a bunch of tropes off a page.

Fae court? Handsome, mysterious, brooding princes? A tall, dark, possessive love interest? Sure.

You promise you'll try it, and she takes that as a "yes", leaving the book on your desk. It goes untouched.

You wake up in a dark forest. For a moment, you think you're still dreaming- until a thorn pricks your finger, drawing blood, and you realize this is very, very real.

You can see a medieval castle off in the distance, and to your horror, you realize where you are.

"No... this isn't happening..." you mutter to yourself.

"What isn't happening?"

You jump at the sudden noise, and turn on your heels to see someone behind you. How you missed him, you're not sure. He's pale, his hair is striped pink, and his eyes are almost glowing.

"Not from here, are you?" he says with a smile. "You must be tired. Come, Lord Malleus' home is always open to guests."

This is the weirdest stranger danger situation you've ever been in. This small gentleman has fangs.

He chuckles. "Don't let appearances fool you. We're quite hospitable!"

You think about it- you could stay in the forest, and die of a slow and agonizing death, either by starvation or mauling, or you could play the part, return to the castle, fall in love with the tall love interest, and have his babies.

...Honestly, hypothermia doesn't sound too bad.

But you also know that the book has to end eventually. And when it does, you'll get spit out. Maybe.

You're in the mood for taking chances.

The castle is just as grand and old as your friend had described it. The food is just as strange, the court just as intimidating.

Strangely, though, she never mentioned any short, pink-haired fae, apparently named Lilia Vanrouge.

"Enjoying the view, are you?" he asks, having caught you staring.

You quickly look back at your own plate. "It's just, um... well... I was wondering about your relationship to the prince,"

He winks, as if to say "nice save".

"He's... well, a foster son, of sorts. Think of it however you'd please,"

"Are you comfortable?" the prince in question asks, his eyes showing genuine concern.

You shrug. "...I guess so,"

"How does one get so lost they end up in Briar Valley, anyway?" one of his knights, Silver, asks in a soft tone.

"AND HOW CAN WE BE SURE THEY AREN'T AN ASSASSIN SENT TO HARM OUR LIEGE?!" the other, Sebek, says in a less-soft tone.

"Oh, nonsense," Lilia says. "Malleus likes them. Don't you, Malleus?"

The prince nods. Oh, brother.

"How nice. Perhaps you two should rendezvous after dinner? To get to know each other better, hm?"

You stare down Lilia, practically begging him to shut up. You want to shake him and shout "Stop trying to set me up with your weird kid!!!!!"

Sebek looks appalled at the very idea. "BUT- MASTER LILIA- THEY CANNOT BE TRUSTED! I CANNOT ALLOW THIS!"

Thank you, Sebek!!! you think.

"Yeah, um... you know, I'm kind of tired, so..." you say. "Maybe tomorrow? Or next week? Or, um, whenever. You know."

Sebek visibly relaxes at that, and Silver raises an eyebrow.

"Of course," Malleus says. "I will have the finest room arranged for you at once."

And he did. This world may be stuck in ye olde medieval fantasy times, but man, what money can't buy...

As you look around the exquisite room, you hear a knock at the door.

Lilia comes in without waiting for an answer. "Enjoying the room, I hope?"

You sigh.

"Did Malleus send you?"

He chuckles, and takes a seat on your bed. "I am his keeper, he is not mine. I just wanted to see how you were faring,"

"I'm fine," you turn back to the wall, pretending to look at a tapestry. The sight of him on your bed is... distracting, to say the least.

"Hm..." Lilia hums. "...I would like to apologize for overstepping at dinner. I did not mean to imply anything. We're rather isolated here, and Malleus has been lonely..."

It makes sense, of course. He's only looking out for his... strange, sort-of son. Still...

"And you're not?" you ask.

Lilia doesn't have a response for that. You turn around to gauge his expression, and he's smiling.

"Khee hee. You're a clever little thing. If I didn't know any better, I would think you were flirting,"

Now, it's your turn to not respond. He's caught you, and he knows it.

Your heart beats with something like excitement as he stands and closes the door.

"But I suppose I have all night to figure it out,"

[bangtanintotheroom]

Just Like Candy (M)

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry

🔊 candy - doja cat (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: S.Coups x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Angst, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 7.3k

• Summary: Following a breakup, Seungcheol is looking for a distraction for the night. You catch his eye with your red lips and the rest is history.

• Warnings/themes: mentions of a breakup, sulky Cheol 🥲, his friends are real ones, drinking, swearing, one night stand, flirting, making out, dirty talk, handjobs, fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), c*me swallowing, strength kink, manhandling, hint of begging, OC’s lips are often compared to 🍒

• Notes: Welp, here it is; my first Cheol fic! I didn't plan to take this long to finish, but between work, getting sick and my bestie's birthday, ya girl has been busyyy 🥲 but here he is, so enjoy! 🎉 much thanks to @hobeemin for the beta! 💖

Seungcheol was barely paying attention to his friends' conversation, trying desperately not to go onto his ex’s Instagram and check her recent stories. But every time his thumb hovers over the multi-colored circle with her smiling face, the recent events play through his mind. It leaves a bitterness on his tongue, which ends up with him closing the app for what must have been the fifth time.

“Hyung, get off of there.”

He looked up to see Wonwoo giving him a stare of sternness mixed with worry, feeling sheepish that he was caught red-handed. Then again, he must have noticed earlier and only chose to say something now.

“Sorry.”

Wonwoo sighed, leaning in and speaking lowly, “If you keep going on there, I’m going to confiscate your phone.”

Seungcheol’s brows knitted at the warning.

“And what if someone tries to reach me?”

“Then I’ll give it back, but until then, you won’t have phone privileges.”

He couldn’t help but click his tongue. As annoying as the threat was, he secretly appreciated Wonwoo’s way of keeping him from doing something he might regret, like reaching out to his ex less than two weeks later rather than continuing to play it cool.

It wasn’t heartbreak, per se, just a loss of familiarity and a routine that bothered him. He was used to checking up on her at certain times, often receiving the same energy back. Plus, the lack of cuddling and deficiency of sex was about to start making him restless.

He appreciated the tough love because the rest of the men in the car showed their support by dragging him to an unruly house party that he wasn’t even sure he’d enjoy.

“Yah, is he on his phone again?”

Wonwoo replied to Seungkwan’s question from the front with, “He sure is.”

Every other occupant groaned in exasperation, Chan peering around him to scold, “Seungcheol-hyung, focus! You’re supposed to have fun with us tonight, not pine over her!”

“Just block her already!”

Seungcheol quickly snapped at Joshua’s quip, “No, because then I’ll look bitter.”

“So?”

Seungkwan turned around in the passenger seat to look directly at him, seeming to be about to give the most unhelpful advice ever.

“Hyung, you want my suggestion?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Fuck her feelings, respectfully—” He was quick to throw in that word after the elder’s face began twisting in displeasure. “—she decided to end it, and she’s out there living her best life while you’re moping around. Be selfish for once and focus on your well-being!”

Chan joined in, “Exactly! Are you going to let her distract you from having a good time with us tonight?”

The eldest wanted to fight back on instinct, but the more he stewed on his friends’ words, the more he realized they had a point. What was the use of getting in his feelings? He’d just end up being the downer of the group and waste the effort they put in to have him get dressed and come out. Even though it had been a while since he went to a party of this size, the tiniest part of him was excited. His ex was the type to avoid get-togethers like this, so he often put off the guys’ invites in favor of pleasing her.

But she wasn’t around anymore…

He sighed heavily. Hopefully, he’d be distracted enough that she wouldn’t run through his mind until he returned to his bed and deleted more of their couple pictures.

“No, I’m not.”

His response was met with a round of cheers, drowning out the hip-hop blaring from the speakers.

“That’s the spirit!”

Joshua took advantage of the red light to turn and shoot a proud smile.

“We just want you to have fun, yeah? So quit sulking.”

Seungcheol did himself no favors by narrowing his eyes and pushing his lower lip out.

“I’m not sulking.”

As expected, Joshua gave an eye roll amidst the chorus of laughter, turning back around to continue driving. Seungcheol decided to get more involved in the conversation for the rest of the trip, only glancing at his phone for notifications. Not once did he hop onto Instagram, choosing to entertain a heated debate over who would be the first casualty tonight. His money was on Seungkwan, who fought against the accusation with insistence.

Either way, he hoped his friends continued to distract him for the rest of the night like this.

The plan to distract Seungcheol was going poorly. Actually, no. Poorly was an understatement.

It was going horrendously.

Everything was fine when they stepped into the party. It was easy to get accustomed to the noise and the crowd of bodies, especially once a red cup was shoved into his hand. One of his favorite songs was even playing, his foot automatically tapping to the beat while listening to Joshua and Chan converse.

But it went horribly awry when a drunk Seokmin and Soonyoung bounded up to them, asking where his other half was.

His reaction was as instantaneous as his friends’, yet more subtle. Seungcheol tensed up and clenched his jaw, fingertips making a dent in the plastic cup. Of course, the duo was too far gone to see his sudden change in mood; they only blinked in confusion when Seungkwan began yelling at them for their goof. Just as Wonwoo started explaining why their greeting was poorly thought out, the eldest quickly excused himself, turning and making a beeline for the much less crowded kitchen.

He wasn’t sure if he needed something more substantial to drink or to remove himself from a messy situation. Either way, he ended up staring blankly into the icy assortment of beers in front of one of the many coolers.

So much for distracting himself tonight.

“Excuse me?”

A steady voice brought him out of his wallowing, looking over his shoulder to see a young woman standing behind him, pointing to the cooler.

“Mind if I get in there?”

“O-Oh. Sorry.”

Seungcheol swiftly stepped aside, feeling a bit abashed at getting in the way. You didn’t seem to mind too much though, sending a smile as you squatted down to begin rummaging through your options.

“Indecisive?”

He blinked at your query.

“Huh?”

You continued speaking while rifling through, “You were staring down here for a hot minute.”

Oh shit, was he? Damn. He must have looked like a party pooper, no doubt sulking as he tried to get himself back into a festive mood.

“Uh, yes, let’s call it that…”

A giggle escaped at the unconvincing reply. Within a few seconds, you popped back up with two different-looking bottles in each hand.

“Are you more of a fruity or bitter kind of guy?”

“Bitter.”

You held out one of the beers, waiting until he took it with a bit of confusion mixed with gratitude.

“Thank you…”

“Of course. You look like you need it.”

Seungcheol huffed, shoulders sagging a bit as he smiled pensively.

“That bad, huh?”

A nod was given, albeit paired with a sympathetic look.

“Yeah.”

He sighed at your observation, the urge to crawl away and hide in a corner until the party ended coming strong. This was another thing he wanted to avoid: the pity people would give him. In the words of Chan, he looked like a lost puppy whenever he caught him thinking about his ex. Surely, that’s what you were reminded of as you continued to gaze up at him.

“My friends dragged me here to distract me from…recent events, but I don’t think it’s working very well.”

“I can see that. I rarely see people not enjoying themselves at one of Seokmin’s parties.”

Your words might have had sincerity, but Seungcheol could only feel more insecure. He stuck out like a sore thumb; that was the last thing he wanted to happen tonight.

Just as he was about to excuse himself to wallow in misery, you asked something that caught him off-guard.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but blink rapidly, ensuring he didn’t mishear you.

A complete stranger offering an ear?

“No, I couldn’t burden you; I’m sure you came to have fun.”

But you were undeterred, shrugging nonchalantly.

“It’s fine, really. I could use some quiet time—” You grinned without an ounce of regret. “—and sometimes it’s good to have a stranger’s ear, no?”

Well…you weren’t wrong. Although Seungcheol wasn’t expecting to find a willing participant at a house party, of all places. But you seemed eager to help, and God knows his friends have probably heard enough of his lamenting by now.

A shrug of his shoulders was followed by, “If you’re offering, sure.”

Your smile stretched even wider at his approval, reaching for his free hand with your own before leading him to the sliding glass doors on the other side of the room.

“Step into my office.”

“Let me guess…a breakup?”

Straight to the point.

“Yeah.”

“How long?”

He needed to take a swig to answer this.

“Two years.”

It was no surprise to see a grimace on your face.

“Yikes. My condolences.”

Seungcheol wasn’t sure if he tried to ease you or himself with the comforting smile he gave.

“Thank you, but breakups happen all the time. I’ll be over it soon.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck right now. Nothing wrong with wallowing in misery.”

He scoffed lightly, “Trust me, I’ve been doing more than enough of that.”

You hummed, seeming to understand.

“So was she ‘the one’?”

Seungcheol paused in raising his beer bottle, thick brows scrunching as he took a few seconds to ponder before shaking his head.

“No, I wouldn’t say that. It was serious, but not that serious.”

You nodded, yet there was a bout of silence afterward while he stewed on how to express his feelings since the first night his former girlfriend removed her possessions from his place.

“I think it’s…like something is missing. Like I was so used to having her around and there to talk to or spend time with, it feels off.”

“You got comfortable.”

Seungcheol continued, “I did. And now she’s not here anymore.”

Saying this admission out loud pulled the deepest of sighs from his lungs.

“It’s just going to take some getting used to.”

“But you’ll be okay…one day.”

Your sincerity in tone made his head turn, and he saw you gazing at him with something akin to optimism.

“It might not be tomorrow. Might not be next week. But it’ll get easier one day and you’ll be able to think about her without feeling like you’re missing out. Trust me—“ The way your mouth quirked humorlessly on one side as you glanced through the window spoke volumes. “—I know.”

Seungcheol watched as your eyes lingered on the house, seeming to allude to a specific person. He couldn’t help but turn to see if he could figure it out. His answer was received when he spotted a handsome man with cropped black hair getting close to a giggling woman. Sure enough, the look in your eyes was close to what he had expressed lately.

No wonder you offered to hear him out.

“I’m sorry.”

His words broke your trance, turning back to blink rapidly before chuckling.

“Thank you, but it was for the best. He wasn’t exactly the most faithful.”

Seungcheol frowned. “Ouch.”

“Mhm. Well, it is what it is. Now we’re free to fool around with whoever we want, so everyone wins!”

He couldn’t hold back a small laugh at your exuberant claim.

“You have a point.”

The grin you directed at him made his own wider. He didn’t expect a stranger to ease the trouble brewing inside tonight, but your perspective on the situation was refreshing. If anything, his determination to enjoy the party to the fullest returned. You probably wanted to get back to whatever you were doing before, too…

“Thank you for offering your ear. I’m sure you want to return to the party now, right?”

Just as Seungcheol started shifting to stand up, you held up your free hand to halt him.

“I don’t mind hanging with you some more. My friends are kind of bouncing around and doing their own thing, but if you want to go to yours, I’ll let you go.”

…but did he want to go to them?

“I…Honestly, I’m not in a rush, but please don’t feel obligated to stick around.”

Your expression shifted into one of ease.

“No obligation on my end. I kind of…want to keep talking to you.”

Seungcheol’s dark eyes widened at your admission, taken off-guard. “You do?”

“Mhm. You seem cool, uh—”

Right. Neither of you had given your names.

“Seungcheol.”

You quickly clasp the hand he held out, shaking it with a smile.

“Y/N.”

Your hold lingered for a bit, fingers dragging along his own when you finally released, making the tiniest of tugs occur in his stomach. He couldn’t help but be a little excited that you wanted to keep talking to him, expecting to go your separate ways after he vented. The mutual feeling gave him a burst of emotion that needed an outlet, excusing himself to grab another beer for the both of you.

Your ex was still in the kitchen, tongue now tangled with the other woman. Seungcheol couldn’t help but scrunch his nose a little at the sight, mainly thanks to what you had told him earlier. But he fought against the urge to toss an ice cube from the cooler at his head and left with a bottle in each hand, giving one to you as soon as he returned.

“Thank you!” Once he got back in his seat, you held your drink up in the air. “To a fun night! Oh, and fuck our exes.”

Seungcheol laughed at your ad-lib, joining in by tapping his bottle against yours. The two of you moved onto much lighter topics, getting to know each other while sitting on the quiet patio. You were better acquainted with the party host than he was, mentioning how you tended to attend most of Seokmin’s get-togethers. He wondered if he had ever passed by you before or vice versa; a shame it took this long to meet.

At some point, the gap between your bodies had dwindled, knees bumping into each other as you showed off pictures of your pets. The way you cooed and had stars in your eyes as he scrolled through his endless gallery of Kkuma pics didn’t fail to warm his heart. And seeing how your chest puffed while bragging about your own fur baby only made it worse.

But then the phones went down and the mood shifted eventually.

The alcohol and good conversation led to Seungcheol noticing little things about you. Like how you rubbed your collarbones whenever you were deep in thought. Or that you kept grabbing onto his thick forearm each time you wanted to emphasize your words, eyes wide and determined for them to sink in. He didn’t mind the touch at all, but it started encroaching into dangerous territory when he began focusing on your mouth a little too hard.

He wasn’t sure if it was the shape of your lips or how the thick gloss sat on them, but looking at them reminded him of cherries. Trying to ensure he responded to your words was becoming difficult by the minute, fighting the urge to lean down and sink his teeth in. It didn’t help whenever the lusciousness parted and showed off pearly whites and hints of tongue.

“Seungcheol.”

Out of nowhere, you called his name, making him jump as he tried to act like he wasn’t hardcore staring at your lips.

“Yes?”

The cherries tilted upwards as a hand came up and gently tapped a knuckle against his exposed forehead.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Your compliment and touch only made his cheeks flare, mouth parting as he prepared to express himself in a way that wasn’t corny or desperate.

“Your lips are gorgeous.”

So much for that.

But you seemed to be pleasantly surprised at his admission, grinning wider as you tucked a hair behind your ear.

“Yeah? Thank you, but I can’t help but feel like that’s not all…”

Seungcheol swallowed hard as you challenged him, wanting to know precisely what he had running through his mind.

“I want to kiss you right now.”

Confidence was more present this time, watching your head tilted in thinly veiled curiosity.

“Oh?” A foot came up and caressed his ankle as you continued, “What’s stopping you?”

Well, he wasn’t the type to just go in for something like that without asking first, so—

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

You looked out into the backyard, humming as you pretended to be thinking deeply about your answer, even though the rubbing sensation on his leg hinted at it.

“Mm…yeah, I do—” Finally, your eyes landed on his again, a sparkle in them that wasn’t there before. “maybe I want more than that.”

Seungcheol felt a heat building inside that had been dormant for too long. This interaction was going in a completely unplanned direction, but surprisingly, he didn’t find himself against it.

“Do…do you?”

The nod you gave had zero shame and hesitation behind it.

Ah. Well. There wasn’t any room for confusion, but he had to get this out.

“I’m not looking for anything serious, I—“

But you halted him by putting your finger on his lips.

“I know. Neither am I. We’re just distracting each other—“ A simple smile. “—right?”

Thank goodness you were on the same page.

“Right.”

Pleased with that, you removed your finger before standing up, setting your empty bottle on the nearby table. You then held your hand out, waiting until Seungcheol took it and stood up, following close as you led him back inside the house. The two of you had to zigzag through the crowd, narrowly avoiding dancing bodies. Finally, the stairs were within reach, increasing his heart as you guided him. He looked back into the crowd, barely catching a glimpse of his friends before you continued to pull him out of sight.

When they realized he disappeared, there was definitely going to be some severe questioning later on.

You led him into one of the bedrooms, making sure there were no unwelcome occupants first. When Seungcheol pulled the door in behind him, you quickly spun around, directing the coyest of looks up.

“You might want to lock it; I’d hate for us to get interrupted.”

Realizing that you had a point, he swiftly turned the lock sideways, finding the act and noise a little more comforting. Being walked in on was never fun, especially when you were fooling around in a stranger’s bed.

As soon as he finished, you reached for his hands before stepping back to stand in front of the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“Last chance to back out.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but knit his brows a bit as he pondered. Was he really about to fool around with a complete stranger?

This was out of character for him. Even when he was single, getting in bed with someone he had only known for a couple of hours was a thought he never entertained. But this was now and he was, to put it lightly, yearning for some physical contact that would keep him distracted for the night.

And quite frankly, he didn’t want to say no to you.

“Seungcheol?”

The light call of his name brought him out of his thoughts, looking down to see you gazing up with mild concern.

“You alright?”

He was quick to nod and smile reassuringly, replying, “Yes. Sorry, just…got in my head for a bit.”

Your expression eased up, tongue clicking as you squeezed his hands.

“Well, we can’t have any more of that. C’mon.”

You maneuvered Seungcheol around so his back was facing the bed now.

“Quit thinking about your ex and focus.”

“Believe me, I’m trying. I might need a little more help on your end.”

His voice hints at encouragement, shifting you into a more domineering mood. Your cherry lips twist into an undaunted grin as you let go of his hands.

“Of course. Even if it’s for a moment—“ All of a sudden, he felt a push to his chest and found himself falling to the bed before looking up at your salacious smile. “—I’ll make you forget all about her.”

You crawled up and on to straddle his lap, making his breath hitch at the intimate contact. With your palms planted next to his head, you shot him a wicked ruby smile before leaning down to place your lips on his own. The kiss is quick to build back up whatever arousal he had lost on the way here, helped by the way your hips started ever so slowly to grind down. You’re in a perfect position to have your clothed center on top of his concealed cock, each ounce of friction awakening it.

Moans started to fill the dim room with each second that passed. Seungcheol found himself hesitating to lay his hands on you, too used to having them on another body instead. But then his brain was quick to remind him that there was no need to hold back.

And so he rested his palms on your waist, playing it safe for now.

But you didn’t let him remain stationary for long, breaking the kiss to place your hands on top of his and whisper, “Don’t be shy.”

The encouragement was a helpful trigger, fingers roaming your body as soon as you let go. He carefully ran them up and down the curves of your waist before taking a chance and moving them to the front and upwards. A quick glance was given to your face as he went and cupped your covered breasts, biting his lip at the soft sound you made. Giving a light squeeze earned him a louder noise and a roll of your hips.

“Knew your hands would feel nice…”

Your husky whisper only spurred him on, sliding one of his hands back down and around to give your bottom the same attention.

“Did you?”

“Mhm—” A firmer grope interrupted your sentence. “—kept staring while you were holding your beer.”

Seungcheol chuckled lightly at your admission, glad he wasn’t the only one fixating on mundane body parts. You allowed him to continue feeling your body, dipping down for an occasional kiss, only to halt him eventually. When his brows furrowed in confusion, your red lips curled as you moved down to sit on his thighs.

“I have to get my hands on you ASAP.”

There was no objection on his end as he removed his hands, letting them rest to the side as you got a feel of him. The heat of your skin penetrating his shirt brought a welcome warmth to his veins. He almost forgot what it felt like to be touched by another, feeling like it had been way too long. Before the relationship ended, he had gone a few weeks without being intimate. Only now was he realizing how badly he needed this.

You ventured downwards, nudging the hem of his tee up until a sliver of stomach and his belt buckle showed. A tap above his waistband brought his eyes to yours.

“You still sure about this?”

Seungcheol blinked at you checking in, not expecting it. But it was much appreciated, even though his answer was still—

“Yeah.”

That was all you needed to continue, smirking as you started to work on loosening the belt. It didn’t take long for you to get through to undo his fly, making his heart pound hard enough to rupture his eardrums nearly. It takes a good amount of self-control for Seungcheol not to jump when your hand slips into his underwear. And it takes even more for him to stay steady when fingers wrap around his cock.

“Can barely wrap my hand around you.”

Your hushed observation made him twitch in your grasp, pulling in his lower lip when you slipped his length out. You released him to spit into your palm, replacing your hold before beginning to stroke slowly. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it came out. Soon enough, soft grunts left his mouth.

“Are you distracted now?”

Seungcheol licked his lips and hummed, “Yes, very distracted.”

The giggle you gave preceded your mouth, leaning up to start giving him kisses again, multitasking efficiently. When you seemed to get your fill of his tongue, you parted and crawled down his body until you were face to face with his fully stiff dick. It couldn’t help but give a jerk at the devious smirk you shot him.

“May I?”

Fuck if he would say no.

“Go ahead.”

His backing spurred you into action, giving his cock a kiss at the base before using your tongue to run alongside every inch. The sigh that left Seungcheol carried so much behind it. The weight from the last few weeks and tonight escaped as you lap him up with attention that he didn’t realize he was missing until now. There was never a dull moment with your mouth, making his hips buck occasionally and quiet groans fill the room.

He managed to keep most of himself under control until you took him past your lips, forcing his fingers to dig into whoever’s comforter was underneath. The tight heat and wetness around his dick eventually made his digits come up to weave into your hair, giving you a bit of guidance. You didn’t seem to mind as a moan vibrated, sending a shiver down his spine.

Seungcheol forgot about whatever was happening outside of this bedroom for a while. He couldn't care less that there was a party going on downstairs and at least one of his friends might be looking for him. They dragged him here; the least they could do was let him have some fun of his own.

But the best part was that his ex-girlfriend didn’t pass through his mind once.

A sharp and familiar pang soon came in his groin, forcing him to choke out, “Y/N, Y/N, I’m so close—”

You looked up at his warning before pulling off with a popping sound to ask, “You wanna come in my mouth?”

The offer made his jaw drop and his cock twitch hard, swallowing down his shock in order to answer you.

“I— Up to you.”

A knowing expression washed over your face, smeared cherry lips quirking.

“Judging by your reaction, I’ll take it as a yes. Don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

You swiftly returned to your previous position, letting a hand join in stroking what was still out this time. Seungcheol didn’t even get a second to process what you said before you continued pleasuring him, jumbling his brain as he got closer and closer to the end. It didn’t take long for his entire body to tense up, swearing out loud while he spilled into your mouth. His vision was spotty as he orgasmed, only clearing up when he went limp on the bed, panting hard.

Damn.

You definitely came through on your promise of distraction.

When he was finally back on Earth, you sat up, giving him a curious look.

“Did that help?”

Seungcheol lifted his head from the bed, chuckling breathlessly at your question.

“Fuck yes.”

A giggle that contradicted what you were previously doing to him escaped, your body wiggling side to side a bit.

“Good! I hate to disappoint.”

“Believe me, you didn’t.”

Your chest puffed out in triumph, looking like you were ready to receive a gold star for your hard work. At this point, you should have split up and returned to your respective groups. But Seungcheol found his instinct to return the favor rising to the surface.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

Forcing himself to sit up and look you in your eyes, he licked his lips before asking, “Do you…need me to help you out?”

Your eyes widened at his suggestion.

“You…how?”

He’s already come this far; he might as well lay all the chips down.

“I could eat you out.”

How your hand flew up to land over your mouth had him wonder if he overstepped his boundaries. Maybe you just wanted to give him his and get out.

“I…I mean, you don’t have to. We could just end it here…”

Hearing you trail off with uncertainty only pushed Seungcheol further. The need to have his mouth on somewhere other than your lips was blazing in his veins. He just missed pleasuring another.

With his bottom lip pushed out and his dark eyes looking up in a specific way, he made a final plea for his case.

“Just…consider it part of the distraction. Please?”

Yes, Choi Seungcheol was nearly begging to eat a stranger’s pussy.

But much to his relief, the light laugh you gave lacked mocking. No longer hiding your mouth, you smiled coyly and cooed, “Well, if you’re insisting…”

Perking up at your approval, he took hold of your jaw with both hands, giving you a long peck. He could feel you giggling during it, becoming louder when he pulled off to take a firm hold of your hips. You weren’t given a second to ask where to move before he lifted and practically manhandled you onto your back. The look you directed up at him was filled with surprise and a hazy lust.

“So strong.”

Seungcheol smirked at your dreamy tone, waiting for your legs to spread before sitting between them. He wasted little time in reaching for the hem of your dress, languidly rolling it up until he got a clear view of your panties.

And the large wet spot in the middle of it.

“Shit.”

You wiggled your hips at his gruff swear, teasing, “Don’t be so surprised.”

He raised a brow at you.

“Yeah, I’m definitely not leaving you like this.”

Whatever mischief that would paint your words evaporated when you felt his knuckles run up and down your clothed center.

“A gentleman, aren’t you?”

Seungcheol grunted after seeing the spot grow larger, “Sure, let’s call it that.”

Not wanting to keep you waiting any longer, he maneuvered down to rest his head between your thighs. Even though he wanted to go straight to business, you deserved a little build-up as well. So Seungcheol planted soft kisses on your inner thighs, trailing up until his nose nearly brushed against you. He sped things up only when a whine of impatience came from above.

Reaching up to hook a finger under the fabric, he pulled it to the side and let it rest as he saw your dripping folds for a moment. But then he was quick to lean in and get to work.

He started off light at first, using the tip of his tongue to see what tickled your fancy. Soft hums left your mouth as your lover for the night, exploring every inch of skin. Seungcheol remained content with the gentle sounds until the need to hear more came over, pushing him to apply a little more pressure to make you louder.

“Mnh—”

“Doing alright up there?”

You hummed pleasantly, “Just wonderful. Keep it up.”

Seungcheol chuckled at your reply, using your encouragement to fuel his actions. He got a little more creative with his mouth, especially when it came to your clit. Closing his lips around it and sucking gently brought a stronger reaction out of you this time. He could feel a hand come down onto the back of his head before fingers buried into his dark locks.

“Right there, baby—”

A short groan vibrated against you from that. He made sure not to let up on what you wanted, finding that he had to use one of his arms to hold down your twitching hips at one point. He was starting to think that you had a thing for muscular guys, judging by your earlier reaction from being flipped over and how you giggled breathlessly from his recent move.

He continued to indulge in the taste of you until he felt the lightest of tugs on his hair. Pulling off with a pop, Seungcheol raised a thick brow.

“You good?”

“Uh huh, but—“ Your tongue ran along your bottom red lip. “—you mind doing me a favor?”

His eyes squinted playfully. “As long as it doesn’t involve feet or anything extreme, no.”

A laugh sounded while you released his strands and tapped his forehead.

“Dork. I want your fingers in me. That too extreme for you?”

The pang that hit his stomach influenced him to shake his head no.

“Good.”

Now you patted him, laying back and relaxing as you waited for him to follow through on his promise. Seungcheol used his free hand to sneak under his chin and pressed the tip of his index finger between your folds. Once he found your entrance, a glance into your eyes was given, receiving a nod in return. He began sliding inside, biting his lip at how you seemed to suck him in. You were wet enough that there was little resistance, making an obscene sound that brought a tingle down his spine.

Starting to thrust moderately, your louder moans filled the dim room. Seungcheol had to apply more pressure with the arm on your hips, nearly being thrown off by a strong buck. He got distracted by watching how you reacted to the friction. But then he remembered how much you also enjoyed his mouth and bent down to get back to work.

You were gracious enough to let him get his fill of you, so he wanted to ensure you got your distraction as well.

“S-Seungcheol—”

He didn’t know how much time had passed before your strangled call of his name cut into the fog, releasing your pulsating bud from his wet lips to rasp, “What’s wrong?”

Your hand darted down to press his mouth back against it, whimpering, “Don’t stop, gonna come—”

You didn’t need to say anymore.

Seungcheol continued licking and sucking, just the way you liked, ignoring how his jaw and finger started cramping up. Thankfully, it didn’t take that long to feel you clamp down tight, crying out as your thighs trembled next to his head. He kept the same pace, waiting until you pushed at his head to prevent overstimulation. Once the trembling of your body died down, he slipped his digit out and sat up, giving your hip a careful rub. The touch brought your attention down from the ceiling to him, eyes hazy with bliss and wonder.

An expression that brought the cheekiest of grins to his face.

“How was that?”

You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to figure your words out.

“She’s missing out.”

It took a moment for Seungcheol to process what you said, but he laughed once he did, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“She is, isn’t she?”

The two of you shared another laugh before he felt his back pocket vibrate. Blinking, he reached in and slipped out his phone, frowning at the message on the screen.

[Wonu]: where’d you go??? We’re leaving soon

“Friends looking for you?”

Seungcheol looked up, nodding.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’re about to head out.”

A sigh left your lips, sitting up to give him a cherry-colored pout.

“Darn. I was having so much fun with you.”

His ears reddened at your complaint, grinning bashfully.

“Same.”

Tapping your foot against his thigh, you hurried back to adjust your clothing, leaving him to respond to Wonwoo’s text.

[Cheol]: my bad, hanging out with someone

[Cheol]: be down in a few minutes

When he received a thumbs up, Seungcheol followed suit, standing up to tuck himself back in and smooth out any wrinkles on his shirt. He didn’t want to be super obvious when he left the bedroom. Just as he finished, he turned to find you standing and facing him, looking up with scrutinizing eyes.

“Hey…what’s up?”

“You might wanna, uh—”

You pointed to his mouth, making him look in the nearby mirror to see what was happening. His eyes widened at the red smeared over and around his swollen lips. Clicking his tongue, he grabbed a tissue, wiped it off as best as possible and turned towards you afterward.

“Better?”

A thumbs up was given. “Much. As much as I like my lipstick on you, I don’t think you want everyone to know what you’ve been up to.”

Seungcheol’s mouth popped open. You complimented yet called him out simultaneously. A woman after his heart.

But you brought him back to Earth with a pat on his shoulder, reminding him, “Come on, don’t keep your friends waiting.”

Closing his mouth, he nodded in agreement.

“Right…thank you, Y/N, for, you know, distracting me. It helped. A lot.”

While not as red as before, your lips shone with vibrancy as they curled upwards.

“Of course, you looked like you needed it. Thanks for not leaving me hanging.”

“Not a problem.”

Another vibration in his pocket urged Seungcheol to hurry downstairs before getting stranded. He leaned down to kiss your cheek and made his way to the door, unlocking and opening it. Just as he stepped over the threshold, he looked back to see you watching him with an unreadable expression.

But it vanished when you caught him staring, brows knitting as you lightheartedly shooed him away.

Whatever that was was left behind as he shut the door behind him.

Seungcheol knew with every fiber of his being that his group would be in or lounging in the car, ready to leave any second. Patience was never their strong suit.

He could already spot a casualty or two as he walked across the lawn. Chan was laid across the hood of the vehicle while Seungkwan’s mouth ran off at Wonwoo, face flushed to all hell. He seemed to approach at the right time, the latter looking relieved as he pushed himself off from leaning against the door.

“There you are! We thought you walked home or something.”

Joshua’s voice could be heard calling out from inside, “Yeah man, where have you been?”

Seungcheol shrugged, hands buried into his pockets.

“I was busy.”

“Doing what?”

He looked Wonwoo dead in his eyes, trying to telepathize what he had been up to.

“Stuff.”

His close friend seemed to understand after a moment, brows lifting in surprise while his mouth twisted upwards.

“Doing stuff or someone?”

But there was little chance of keeping it between them when Seungkwan obnoxiously challenged him.

“I was just hanging out with them. You told me I needed to be distracted tonight, yeah?”

Joshua was busy setting up his GPS to tune in and Chan was fighting slumber, leaving Wonwoo and Seungkwan to make noises of wonder at the reveal.

“We did. Good job, hyung.”

Seungcheol smirked at his approval, still riding the high of the encounter.

“What? Choi Seungcheol having a one-night stand?” Seungkwan stumbled forward to rest a hand on his elder’s forehead. “You feelin’ okay? Too much to drink?”

The smile dropped and formed into a scowl as he got his hand smacked away.

“Fuck off, look who’s talking. Get your drunk ass in the car.”

A petulant whine left the younger as he turned to fumble with the door. Joshua honked the horn, sticking his head out the driver’s window to yell at Chan to move and get in. It did little to faze the youngest, mumbling something akin to ‘five more minutes.’ Seungcheol and Wonwoo worked on removing him from the hood and into the backseat to lean on a singing Seungkwan. The latter climbed in next to them, leaving the oldest to get ready to slide in the passenger seat.

“Seungcheol!”

But then a voice called out before footsteps thudded in the grass behind him.

Thick brows furrowed as he turned to gape in shock as he saw you running over. You stopped directly before him, catching your breath for a moment.

“Y/N! What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t think I’d catch you. I wanted to give you something.”

Seungcheol had no clue what this something could be. He was still trying to wrap his head around running into you again. This wasn’t how one-night stands were supposed to go…right?

But when you opened a closed fist to reveal a piece of folded paper, his brain ran ahead of itself and wondered whether this was going to go the opposite direction.

Seungcheol blinked rapidly, peeking at your face to see you giving him an expectant look. He took the paper and quickly unfolded it, jaw dropping at what was scribbled down. He couldn’t help but dart back and forth between it and you, the mischievous grin letting him know that this wasn’t a joke.

“In case you need more distraction.”

With a wink, you turned around, the skirt of your dress flipping and swishing as you walked back towards the house with a sway in your hips. He continued to gawk at your retreating form, only brought out of his reverie by the whooping of his friends and Joshua’s incessant honking. Spinning around to chew out the driver for making a commotion, Seungcheol swiftly got in, buckling himself before the group hit the road.

Of course, the ride was filled with interrogation, intermingled with Seungkwan’s singing and Dino’s freestyling. But he didn’t mind, feeling a burst of confidence every time the paper scratched the palm of his hand.

Maybe coming out to this party wasn’t a terrible idea after all.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[leclerced]

control | op81

summary: oscar and lando make a bet on who can last longer for no nut november. oscar’s girlfriend is not happy with the situation. inspired by this request that was supposed to be a quick blurb but turned into 2.6k by accident

warnings: 18+ minors dni. wrap it before u tap it! no real smut until the end and its quick and desperate sorry!

author’s note: i did not proof read this and was high writing so sorry for mistakes. i accidentally lost track of time writing this and i wanted to post tn so sorry for mistakes! i rly need to make a masterlist atp

Oscar and his girlfriend cannot keep their hands off each other, and Lando is kind of sick of having to cover for the two lovers when they sneak away during the race weekend. He can’t count on both hands anymore how many times he’s walked in on them in the midst of getting down and dirty, one of them on their knees or Oscar between her legs fucking her. The three of them grew unusually close because of it, with them whispering in his ear to cover for them while they sneak away instead of just disappearing like they did in the beginning of the season.

The three of them don’t realize it, but Lando has this way of staring at them like she’s the sun and he’s the moon and everyone is obsessed with the idea of them being a thrupple. Oscar was asked about it once, and said he hated questions about his personal life, and that he had to even say it, but no. He was not in a three way relationship with his teammate. Despite that, he loves knowing he’s got the hottest girlfriend on the grid and that everyone, including his teammate, wants her, but only he gets her. It ends up weird a weird dynamic between them, Oscar giving Lando too many details of all the things she lets him to do her, and come November, after walking in on them for the umpteenth time, Lando made a bet that Oscar can’t keep it in his pants for a month. Oscar said he could easily lie about it, but Lando brought up how she didn’t travel with him in the beginning of the year and he was an absolute menace compared to the angel he turned into after the first race weekend she attended. Oscar told him he wouldn’t go without sex for a month unless Lando did, and Lando corrected and said it’s no nut November, meaning no self supplied or otherwise, but he would do it because it wasn’t hard when he didn’t have a girlfriend at all, much less one as sex crazed and hot as Oscar’s.

They fucked like rabbits on Halloween and she assumed it was because he really liked the costume she’d worn, but come November first, he stopped being so affectionate. She didn’t notice it until the race weekend really got started and kept trying to spend his free time alone with him but he stayed by Lando’s side the entire time, even when she leaned in and whispered in his ear that she was dripping for him. His hand had tightened on her thigh and he quietly told her, not now, before focusing back on Lando on his other side.

The first and second time she excused him brushing off her advances. They were in the paddock the first time she tried pulling him away, she could excuse that because he was working. The second, they were at a club with Lando and she was trying to pull him away to the bathroom for a quickie after she had a few shots, she could excuse that because he didn’t want to get caught fucking in a bathroom in Brazil. But the third time, they were back at the hotel and she’d just brushed her teeth and showered, walked out of the bathroom naked and she crawled up his body, kissing his body through the sheets. He just rolled her off his body off his when she settled her hips on his and twisted her around to spoon her as he tugged the sheets over her. She thought he was going to fuck her like that, but she snapped when he yawned, pressed a kiss into her shoulder and mumbled goodnight. “Why won’t you let me touch you?” She demanded more than asked and he blushed.

“I- Lando and I made a bet on who could last no nut November longer.” She twisted back around and stared at him blankly, hands moving back towards his sweats as she asked, “Seriously, you’re not fucking me for a month over a trend? Why the fuck do you care if each other cums?”

Oscar didn’t have an answer so he shrugged weakly, “I don’t wonna lose. He’ll never let me live it down.”

She scowled, “No. I’m not going to let you live this down.” She rolled off of him before going to the bathroom, “I’ll fuck myself, since you won’t.”

He rushed off the bed to follow her to the shower, thinking even if he couldn’t cum, he could still make her cum, but she’d shut and locked the door behind her.

She tortured him for the next two weeks, locking the bathroom when she showered and refusing to let him join her even just to wash her hair. She wouldn’t let him pull her into his lap, wrap his hands around her waist, but then they’d be back at the hotel and make out on the couch. He tried touching her, but she pulled his hands away and told him, “If I can’t touch you, you can’t touch me.” She’d end up holding his hands behind his head so he couldn’t touch her as she kissed him until he was achingly hard in his sweats and then she’d pull away, retreat into the little bedroom of the suite, and fuck herself with her fingers, the door hanging open as an invite to come in and join.

All three of them were getting frustrated, it was obvious with Lando and Oscar during the race in Brazil even though it had only been five days. Oscar was used to going back to his hotel and fucking his girlfriend until they passed out, used to being pulled away to closets and bathrooms so they could feel each other up and if they were daring enough, he would fuck her like she begged. Fans noticed Oscar trying to pull her into his arms in the background of some livestream and she pulled herself free of him and sat in the free chair next to his teammate. People went crazy thinking the couple was having a fight, even though she was there at the finish line with his team to congratulate him with a kiss.

Then there was the race in Vegas, just over halfway through the month, and she’d been planning the entire trip and a new wardrobe for it. She’d been ordering things and having them shipped to a friend in California who then drove her entire Vegas wardrobe from LA to Vegas for her. Oscar had no idea what was planned, but she’d teased him when she shyly admitted she was going all out with her outfits when they went out. She suddenly seemed less shy about the money she’d spent when she leaned in and kiss his neck for the first time in three weeks and whispered, “Too bad you won’t get to see half of it.”

He’d choked out a single word, why? She giggled and pulled back, “Well, I bought a lot of lingerie for this weekend. I thought we would be having fun, but you and your teammate have ruined them for me.” Her eyes were suddenly dark and he was blushing and kicking himself for still not really wanting to give up on the bet. He had a few weeks left, he was halfway there, and if he gave up now then the last two weeks of torture were for nothing. And because Lando wouldn’t let him live it down, he would tease him about being young and not being able to handle it, not being able to control himself. He wanted to prove to himself more than anyone that he could do it now, he’d gotten it stuck in his mind that if he could somehow resist the woman on his lap for a month, he could do anything.

It was bad.

She was practically playing dress up in their hotel room the night before the race, she didn’t even pause the movie as she pulled the suitcase into the room and stripped down after unzipping it.

“I thought you said I wasn’t going to see them?” He asked as she pulled out a small bag and retrieved a set in the same baby pink silk as the bag. She watched herself in the mirror as she put it on, then turned to him.

She had a wicked look in her eyes as she grinned, “I decided I didn’t want them to go waste.”

He clenched his teeth and forced his gaze back to the movie as she stripped back out of the set and retrieved a new one. She tried on dresses between sets, tried them on with different bras and pressed her breasts together to see which bra complimented which dress the most. He’d forgotten about the movie despite trying to keep his focus on it, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off her for longer than a few seconds.

She kept glancing at him in the reflection in the mirror and wondered if he could see her watching him. She could see him getting hard through his sweats, especially when he shifted and adjusted himself in his sweats. Oscar squeezed himself once before he pressed his hand back into the cushion like he forgot his self imposed restriction. She wanted him to lose control already. She was on the verge of dropping to her knees and begging for him, she needed him so badly. She was on the verge of not being able to make herself cum when she tried to convince him by touching herself in the next room with the door wide open. He had broken her and he wasn’t even trying to. She didn’t want him to touch her because every time he put his hands on her body, she felt the ache between her thighs grow then she was reminded of his stupid bet and she got angry. Horny and angry was a bad combination when angry sex was off the table because all sex was off the table. Every fibre of her being ached for him and her heart was breaking a little as she watched him watch her and do nothing.

She stripped out of the black dress she’d just tried on and was left in the papaya set she’d ordered for the race night. Oscar watched as she stretched the fabric over her hips and ass and let it pool to her feet before she turned to him. He shouldn’t have been surprised that she bought lingerie in his team color, or that it looked better on her than it did on his car, or his suit, or anything else McLaren branded it with. They should just put her in his car, in that lingerie set, and they’d make fucking millions off one photo. He was certain of it.

He found his heart was racing as she slowly walked towards him then straddled him, her fingers automatically curled into his hair as she brushed her lips against his. “Bought this for your race tomorrow,” she whispered, and he dug his fingers into the couch cushions by her legs. He wanted to touch her so badly, but after two weeks, he knew the new rule she’d imposed. She pressed her lips to his softly and he automatically kissed her back, leaning into her as he sighed. It was the first time he’d touched her all day other than when she woke him up with sleepy kisses and made him get out of bed and go to work. She’d stayed at the hotel then went out shopping and met with the friend who brought the suitcases, so he didn’t see her until he returned to the hotel and she had room service hot and ready for him.

She let him deepen the kiss and pleasantly tugged on his hair, eliciting another sigh from his lips. Oscar felt dizzy as she sucked on his lower lip then bit it teasingly, tugging it back and letting it go to pop against his upper lip before she kissed him again. He was paralyzed as she began rocking her hips against his, the pussy he had been dreaming about pressed up against his cock as she pressed herself into him.

Oscar reveled in the feeling for a moment before hanging his head back against the cushion, abruptly ending their kiss. She whined and chased his lips before settling on his jaw before she moved down his neck. He let out a shaky breath as her teeth scratched against his skin and she sucked softly. Her hips gained more momentum and he moaned, “Fuck, stop.” He could already feel himself growing close just from her grinding on him and kissing his neck, he wasn’t going to last much longer.

She licked softly at his neck before sighing blissfully, “Make me.” Her hips continued rocking against him, each roll of her hips was sending him into a frenzy. He hadn’t been touched in two weeks and he had reverted back to a horny teenager about to cum in his pants.

His fingers dug into the sofa and he gritted his teeth, “You said I can’t touch you.”

She nipped at his throat before humming, “Nothing’s stopping you.” She slowed her hips a little then swiveled them a few times, making his abs twitch under his shirt.

Oscar’s knuckles turned white as his grip tightened, “If I touch you, I’m gonna fuck you.”

She moaned at his words as she rubbed herself against him before brushing her lips against his as she teased, “I guess we’re at an impasse then, you can’t touch me, and I can’t stop touching you.” Her lips met his again as he moaned and rocked his hips into hers. She pressed down in the same motion and he suddenly grabbed her hips and flipped them over, “Fuck you.” He groaned, pushing his sweats down with one hand and tugged the papaya panties to the side. She’d had the panties on for mere minutes and they were soaked, so he had no problem pressing his cock inside of her without any prep before hand. She pulled his hair harshly when he pushed in without any warning, but the sudden pain of his cock stretching her faded into pleasure as he began fucking her with an urgency she hadn’t seen in him before. Neither of them could say anything as they gasped and moaned into each other’s mouths, his thumb found her clit and in less than two minutes she was yanking his hair again as he pushed her over the edge. The pain of her pulling his hair and the pleasure of her cumming around him sent him spiraling over the edge and his entire body shook with his orgasm as he filled her with his cum. He collapsed onto her after their orgasms washed over them and laughed as he buried his face in her neck. “I’m sorry, that was stupid of me.”

She nodded and curled her legs around him , “It was. I would hate you for it if you hadn’t given up right now. I would have gone and made Lando cum first just to get you to fuck me, if you hadn’t just now.”

Her words were teasing, but Oscar heard a bit of truth behind her words and he laughed, “I think you should do that still. Make him think I won the bet.”

She laughed, her chest pressing into his as she pet the back of his head lovingly, “You want to win so bad you’d let me go make your teammate cum?”

He shrugged, “It’s just Lando, he’d probably last thirty seconds cause he’s had a crush on you since you met. Probably feel like he won just because you tossed him off.”

She flushed at the thought of his teammate crushing on her, “He has?”

Oscar rolled his eyes even though she couldn’t see him, “You don’t notice him watching you constantly? Haven’t seen the way he looks at you?”

She huffed, “I should say the same about you and him, you look at him the way you look at me.” Oscar was glad she couldn’t see his face as it heated up and he changed the subject back to her, “You really don’t notice him watching you? What about Charles?”

Her eyebrows raised at the mention of the Monegasque and she squeaked, “Cha?”

He huffed this time, “You want to fuck all my friends?”

She blushed again and whined, “You’re the one who said I should make Lando cum.”

He laughed, “Mhmm, still think you should. I don’t want to lose. But like tomorrow morning, before I have to go to work so he won’t know I fucked you just now when he sees me happy tomorrow.”

[satorusugurugurl]

heyy!! how ru? soooo, i was thinking about jjk men found out that reader has problems with food, if you are okay with it, could you write it? if you r not its okay! you are a great writer and i love reading your stuff!! kisses!

JJK Men: When You Have an Issue With Food

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna

Word Count: 3,907

Warning: Themes of eating disorders, issues with food, negative body image, suggestiveness, fluff in the end

A/N: Thank you for the request, Nonnie! As someone who has struggled with issues regarding an eating disorder, this took me a bit of time to figure out, but I feel proud of it. Please seek out resources if you struggle as well! There are so many helpful resources that have helped me!

Gojo Satoru:

Satoru loved sweets. He developed his love in high school when stimulating his brain, which led to him developing a sweet tooth, so you could always count on him to bring home all sorts of sweets, which was nice. You enjoyed it until someone at work mentioned that it looked like you gained weight. You brushed it off at first, but it struck a nerve when she said you might lose your boyfriend if you continued eating the sweets. Did you put on a few pounds since you started dating Gojo? Was it all the sweets you had been enjoying with him?

The comment had you poking at your stomach in the mirror with a pout. That woman blatantly announcing their view in front of your coworkers was rude. It was embarrassing and had you questioning if Satoru had noticed if you gained weight. You need to stop indulging in sweets, or more people might start making comments about your weight. Or the worst-case scenario was that Satoru would leave you.

That same day, you went straight to the gym when you got home. You heard footsteps rushing to the door when you returned to your apartment. Satoru nearly tackled you as he kissed your cheeks repeatedly as you headed for the kitchen.

“Hi, Toru!” You giggled as Satoru shuffled with you into the kitchen, not once letting you go. “How did the mission go?”

“It was boring! I wish I could’ve brought you with me!” White strands of hair fly as he yanked his head away from your face. “But I brought you home some souvenirs.” He handed you a pink bag with a cute cat label. “Macaroons from France! This shop is known for its take on different flavors. Peanut butter and jelly blueberry and cinnamon roll. I bought one of every flavor for us to try.” His smile was wide and warm, leaving you feeling sick.

“Oh, thanks.” You placed the bag onto the counter with an evident frown. One Satoru saw your unenthusiastic reaction, and it made him pout.

“What’s wrong? You love macaroons.”

“I do. I just—” Nausea twisted in your stomach. “I can’t eat them anymore.”

The combination of ‘I do’ and ‘I can’t’ had Satoru reeling in stunned silence. “What do you mean you can't? Did you develop a macaroon allergy while I was gone?”

“No, I can’t keep eating sweets, Toru.”

Satoru could tell something had happened while he was gone. Usually, you jumped at the chance to try an exotic sweet he’d bring home. For you to be so dismissive wasn’t like you at all. He’d only been gone for a week, and suddenly, you had an aversion to sweets.

His fingers gently grab your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The second his eyes meet yours, he can feel your anguish. Tears glimmer in your eyes as a little hiccups sound in your chest. Seeing you in such a state had your boyfriend searching you for injuries only to realize it wasn’t on the surface but deeper.

“Sweetheart.” The tenderness and concern in his voice make you cry harder. “Baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Satoru pulls you to the couch, sitting you directly on his lap.

“M-My c-co—“ si s wreck through you as you try to speak, “my coworker—”

“Your coworker what? Who do I need to Hollow Purple?”

Satoru runs his hands gently up and down your back, which is soothing. “They were asking if I gained wei—weight. A-And they said that I would lose you if I gained more.” His hands stopped moving, and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“I’m sorry. What the fuck did you just say?”

You spilled your guts out, telling him everything from what they said to you to going to the gym. Never once amid your rant did he interrupt you. He just held you, pressing kisses against your tear-stained cheeks until you shuddered with a sigh once you were done.

“Baby, my sweet, beautiful girlfriend. Fuck them. Fuck those assholes; God, I hate people so much.” His hands grab your hips, making you straddle him to stare into his eyes. “I think you’re beautiful just the way you are. If you want different souvenirs, I’ll bring you something different. If you want me to bring you back, I will.” His hands gently stroke at your tear-stained cheeks. “But don’t let a bunch of assholes dictate what you can and can’t eat.”

Sincere cease the stream tears. “You think I’m perfect?” A smile graces your face, causing Satoru’s heart to flutter.

“Yes! I love you, whether you indulge in sweets or focus on going to the gym. Regardless of your choice, I’ll support you, whether I bring you home more treats or join you at the gym; say the word, and I’ll support you no matter what.”

You gently pressed your lips against him. To which he gladly reciprocated, holding you tight as you messily made out like horn-crazed teenagers. You happily munched on the macaroons Satoru brought home the next day at work when your phone rang. The woman who had commented on your weight, Tadashi, appears on the caller ID, making you roll your eyes

“Yes?” You asked, licking the crumbs off your lips.

“You have a delivery here in the front.”

You rush to the lobby and pass other assistant supervisors into the waiting room. The delivery man is hidden behind the arrangement of your favorite flowers. You melted as you stepped forward, the floral scent drawing you in.

“Hi, those are for me.” You helped your hands out to the vase.

“Yes, they are!” The flowers lowered, and your grind blindfold creased as he stared down at you.

“Toru?!”

“Just had to remind you how perfect and loved you are!” he placed the flowers down before rubbing his arms around you. “I also want hollow purple the assholes who hurt you.”

“No, Toru, please don’t do that.”

While murder was out of the question, Satoru decided on a different approach to let your coworkers know how much you were loved. He wrapped his arms around you before dipping you in front of all of your shitty coworkers just before kissing you. He made such a scene making out with you and grabbing your ass that you were left a blushing mess. He finally managed to pull away; he flipped off the woman who had made such terrible comments to you.

“Hope this proves that I’m never going anywhere.” he slaps your ass again, drawing a squeak from you. “She’s mine forever and always, no matter what!”

Nanami Kento:

Ever since high school, you have had a food issue. When you were a child, your grandparents often commented about you cleaning off your plate or having seconds. They would frequently call you chubby or warn you that man would like a woman who finished her meals before him.

Because of their comments, you never ate as much as you would like. Purposely leave as much food on your plate as possible without starving yourself. While the habit was unhealthy, it pleased your grandparents to the point they finally got off your back about your plate and weight. After their deaths, the harmful habit caused by their poisonous words scarred you your whole life.

No matter how hungry you were, you never finished your plate. A handful of the entire plate was eaten at every meal you ate. If you were still hungry, water helped with the lingering traces of hunger. Because of your seemingly peckish behavior, you were called a bird throughout high school and even into adulthood. You didn’t see it in a bad way. You were eating the way you did, which never bothered you. You were happy and content with your choices until you started dating Nanami Kento.

When he first asked you out, you thought the good-looking man was pulling a joke on you. Much to your relief, he was serious. He wanted to take you out for dinner and drinks, which you excitedly agreed to. Nanami took you to the best restaurants in town, and it was. You moaned as you ate until you had to force yourself to stop, as you were dangerously getting close to finishing your plate for the first time in years.

Your grandparents' words haunted you as you reluctantly put your spoon down. That was the first time he picked up on your issue. The way you assured him that you were full when your eyes still lingered on your food or how you moaned when you took a bite of the sweet dessert, going in for another spoonful only to freeze and drop your spoon.

Something didn’t seem right, but Nanami wouldn’t pry on the first date. Perhaps you weren’t that hungry, or you were nervous around him. There was no point in bringing it up right now. He wasn’t even sure if he’d get a second date.

But he got that second date and the third, and soon, he became your loving, doting boyfriend

A boyfriend who noticed you not cleaning your plate off wasn’t just a one-time occurrence but a habit of yours. No matter the meal, breakfast, lunch, or dinner, you never finished your plate. Even when you complained about how starving you were, you never ate until you were full.

You never looked satisfied whenever you ate; one would even say that you looked disappointed whenever your plate was taken away at restaurants. Or when you close the lid on your unfinished bento box. You wanted to eat, but something was preventing you from pushing past the limit you made for yourself

Nanami didn’t want to pry or embarrass you by bringing it up, but he could no longer hold his tongue after the two of you had gone to dinner. You stopped eating, and while he finished his meal, you chugged down an entire glass of water. Clearly, you were still hungry but not wanting to eat.

He decided he needed to bring up the manner in the comfort of his home, away from watchful eyes. So Nanami invited you to his condo for a homemade dinner featuring your favorite meal.

It was so good. The flavors were perfect, mouthwatering, and nearly orgasmic. You moaned eagerly, shoving more food into your mouth, losing yourself in the delicious meal made by loving hands; Nanami watched you while sipping on his wine, watching you eat until you stopped eating like always. The disappointment was evident on your face as you reluctantly put your fork down.

Now was the time to act.

“Darling, is the food not to your liking?” A sense of dread burned in your stomach as you looked up from your half-full plate at your boyfriend

“No, it was good! I’ve never tasted something so tasty.”

Nanami placed his wine glass down, licking his bottom lip. “ Are you just not hungry?” You shook your head, cheeks burning. “Then why don’t you eat more Love? You clearly want to.”

“But I don’t wanna lose you—”

Not expecting that to be your answer, Kento pulled his chair to your side, sat down, and gently grabbed your hands. You flushed as he brought them towards his mouth, pressing gentle kisses against your knuckles. Your boyfriend looked so distraught over your answer as if it had wounded him to the soul.

“Why do you think that? Have I made you feel if you were to finish your food, that would result in me leaving you? If I made you feel that way, I’m sorry.”

“Ken, no, no, wait a second.” Your fingers squeezed around his hand. “You didn’t do anything remotely close to making me feel that way.”

“Then why do you think you’d lose me if you were to finish a meal in front of me?”

Swallowing at the lump of dread in your throat, you sighed. “Well, it’s something my grandparents always used to say.” You told him everything about their crude remarks and terrible advice. You also confessed that despite their passing, their words still haunted you, making it hard for you to finish meals.

“That has to be the most asinine bullshit I’ve ever heard.” Kento snapped, irritation carved into his features. “People are so cold and cruel. They don’t understand that words can impact a person for the entirety of their lives.”

“Kento—”

“I can assure you that I would rather you finish your plate than starve yourself. Food is one of the many joys in life that is better shared and company.” He closed the small distance between you. “If you finish your plate, I won’t be disgusted or turned off. I promise you it’s the opposite; seeing you happy and enjoying yourself makes me happy.”

“It does?”

“You always look so happy when you eat something you like.” Nanami picked up your fork and is holding it out for you. “So please don’t let the cruel words of terrible people dictate how you live your life. I won’t be leaving anytime soon, so please eat as much as you’d like.”

Hearing those words from him, the man who stole your heart, made your soul soar. Confirming that your grandparents were terrible people and that he wouldn’t leave you left you feeling overjoyed. Like you had been set free. It was like Kento had taken bolt cutters to the chains wrapped around you for years. That rush of relief had you eating more food off your plate with a happy hum.

You ate all the food off your plate for the first time in years. Nanami grinned as he gently stroked your head, elated to you, so happy and satisfied. Seeing you in such a euphoric state delighted him; words could not describe it. Nanami Kento was falling hard for you, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future holds for you both.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU):

“Big bro!” Sukuna Thomas is a slice of toast on Yuuji’s plate. “Bro!” The smaller boy pouts at his brother, who ultimately ignores him, tossing a butter knife into the sink. “Brother!”

“What?!” Sukuna snaps, running a hand down. His little brother is unfazed by his tone, happily munching away on the toast he had prepared for him.

“Big sis forgot her lunch again!” Yuuji always referred to you as his big sister, even though you were dating his older brother. Sukuna made a mental note to discuss calling you by either your last name or first name, whatever you preferred, when you got home from work.

“No, I handed it to her,” Sukuna is about to call Yuuji a brat for lying when he spots your Bento box wrapped in a cherry blossom cloth on the entrance table by the front door. He swears you’d lose your head if it weren't attached to your body. This was the third time you had forgotten your lunch this week. “Dumb little brat.” he snatches it off the entrance table to put it back in the fridge for you. “She’d if it wasn’t for delivery services and convenience stores. Always forgetting her shit.”

“She didn’t forget it.” Yuuji’s addition has his brother shutting the door to the fridge to box still in hand.

“The hell you mean she didn’t forget it?”

The smell of sterilized wipes makes your empty stomach twist. Maybe the fasting and the protein shake in the morning weren't cutting it anymore. This meant you would have to eat a bit more, which was something you didn’t want to do. Not when your beach trip with Sukuna and the boys was around the corner.

“Hey.” One of your coworkers tapped her knuckles on the door of the exam room you were cleaning. “Once you’re done here, you can take your lunch if you want.”

“Lunch?” You laugh, pulling your gloves off and tossing them in the trashcan. “If you count a protein shake as lunch, I’ll take it.”

“Oh,” your coworker covered her mouth, “ I think I just ruined the surprise.” Surprise? What the hell was she talking about? “Your boyfriend is in the lobby with your lunch.”

Oh fuck.

Without another word, you rushed through the office, heading to the lobby. Sukuna stood by the front desk with a scowl over his tattooed face. He was pissed, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to face him, but the plot to hide vanished the second his crimson eyes shot in your direction.

A chill ran down your spine as the sheer coldness in his gaze had you frozen in your spot until he motioned for you to come over with his index and middle finger. You approached him, smoothing out your scrubs, avoiding eye contact at all costs, which lasted for a second before Sukuna could use his fingers to lift your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Let’s take a walk.” The sharpness of his tone left no room for discussion

“Okay.”

He at least waited until he was outside to turn and glare down at you. You would have to thank him for that. “Care to explain how you forgot your lunch?” His jaw is clenched, and the veins are popping out of his neck as he attempts to hold back his anger.

“I uh—”

“And before you even think about telling me ‘you forgot’ for the third time this week, long and hard about how you wanna answer my question.”

“I left it behind.”

Sukuna nodded with a scoff. “So does this mean you haven’t forgotten your lunch all week, or have you purposely left it behind?” You give him a guilt-ridden nod. “Why?” His being short and questioning your motives was exactly how you imagined his reaction if he found out what you were doing.

“Because of my diet.”

“Diet, the fuck you mean your diet?”

Your cheeks burn as he repeats the word diet ten more times as if repeating it will help him understand your reasoning. Sukuna listens to you sigh in defeat before sitting on the fountain's edge in front of the medical complex where you work. His frustration blinded him so much that he didn’t notice how you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth or how your leg bounced anxiously.

He sat down, putting your bento box off to the side. “Why are you skipping meals on this ‘diet’?” The bastard was using air quotes now.

“My coworker showed it to me. Two meals with protein shakes and eat only one big meal or day I could tone up.”

“So you’re basically ‘starving’ yourself to tone up?”

“Can you stop using air quotes?”

“I will once you tell me why you’re skipping meals for the shitty diet you don’t even need to be on. If you want to focus on your health and getting toned up, do it. I’ll go to the gym and show you how to use the machines. I’ll even spot you. But so that you know, I think you’re perfect the way you are.”

“You’re obligated to say that because you’re my boyfriend.” Your attitude in your tone has said boyfriend glaring daggers. “You’re muscular and buff, and I’m—“ you pout, “ I’m just me.”

“Yeah, and I want you, all of you.” He’s getting fed up with the piss-poor attitude you have going on. “What’s with the self-hate.”

Sukuna was expecting more attitude or possibly the silent treatment, but you didn’t; instead, it was quiet as your delicate fingers rubbed against your pants. “I-I bought a new swimsuit for the trip to the beach and—” your boyfriend perked up, interest peaked. “And it’s a little snug in some places.”

“Snug?”

“Yeah.” When you first got the swimsuit, you saw nothing wrong with it, but a friend of yours pointed out that your bottoms were a bit snug in the ass region—seeing that your beach trip was two weeks away, your coworker recommended the not-so-awesome diet you were on since you wanted to tone up; because if your friend thought it was snug. You could only imagine what your boyfriend would think. “I just wanna look good for you.”

“Oi.”

“Ye-mph!” Just as you turned to look at him, he shoved the tip of a rice ball into your mouth.

“I need to see you in those bottoms.” There was a certain cuteness with how he puffed his cheeks out as you eagerly chewed on the rice ball. Once you finish swallowing, you grab it by the end and pull it out, holding the remainder of it in your hand

“You want to see?”

“Of course, why the fuck would you listen to some nobody? Let me see them, and I’ll tell you what I think.”

That was the last thing you wanted, but you knew he wouldn’t let this go until you did. Taking another bite of the delicious rice ball, you sighed in defeat. “I’ll show you, Sukuna,” He flicked his finger against your forehead. “What was that for?!” He shoved the second rice ball into your mouth, silencing you.

“For being a dumbass, eat your lunch and bring those bottoms back to my apartment.” He pressed a kiss against your cheek. “I gotta get back to work, but don’t forget I love you the way you are. Please don’t starve yourself because you assume I wouldn’t like something on you.”

You ate all your lunch while dreading the mere thought of him seeing you in the bottoms, which your friend had deemed too tight. The anxiety of what was to come had your day flying by, and before you knew it, you were peeking your head out of the bathroom of Sukuna’s apartment. Your boyfriend sat on the edge of the bed, watching you closely.

“Promise you’ll be honest. I’m dead serious, Kuna.”

“Promise.” When you stepped out of the bathroom, Sukuna’s eyes widened at the sight of the tight red bottoms you wore. They were snug and all the right ways. They were hugging your hips and the curve of your ass perfectly. The color complimented your skin tone. You were so fucking perfect. Your friend must have told you that your bottoms look too snug because they were jealous of you.

Sukuna stood up, crowding you against the wall, inhaling sharply as you hit the cool wall. Your tattooed boyfriend sunk to his knees, his lips and teeth nipping at your thighs up to the curve of your hips. The warmth of his mouth, how you gasped, your hands gripping the pink tufts of hair.

“Kuna.”

“Throw those fucking shakes away, babe. These are perfect.” His voice was muffled as he nipped harder at your skin.

“You don’t think they’re too snug?”

“No, they're perfect.” He whispered, drawing closer and closer to your core. “Now, let's have our own little experiment. I wanna see how well they do—” crimson eyes meet your panting flushed face, “when they’re wet.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[kmiuu1]

Just thinkin' bout Gojo Satoru.

Gojo x Reader, basically! :3

( Sorry about the small text thing!! I don't really use the small txt but it suits this style better, lol...! )

Satoru, the man who would gleefully get down on his knees and hands to worship you — his beloved, precious, endearing, gorgeous, and talented woman. The thing he finds best about that part is that you're his.

Satoru, who would prefer to be the little spoon as he loves your touch — the way you hold him so lovingly, how could he not be intoxicated by you and your warmth?

Satoru, thought he'd never have the time or chance to ever find the “love of his life” till he met you. Completely altering that thought, twisting and bending it a 180° degrees when you just randomly slipped into his life at one point.

Gojo Satoru.

Is the man that loves you. The man whose fallen heads over heels for you. Not the “strongest”, but Satoru — Your “baby”, your “man”.

If you were to ever say you liked “poetry”, he'd all of a sudden also be into it and conjure up the most corny yet breathtaking poems.

If you felt like homemade desserts, he'd scurry to get an apron and get to work. Hes good at everything he does, anyway... so of course anything he bakes will probably be the best thing you've ever had.

You ever accidentally blurt out a “Ugh, I kinda feel sick...”, and he'd be gone the second you finish that sentence — only to return with a plastic bag filled with prescribed medicine in SECONDS.

Of course, you'd do the same things for him even if it'd mostly end up as failures — but that's exactly why he loves you. Because you treat him as an equal, because you don't see him any less or more than the average human being. Hes just him, in your eyes.

Though, he knew the world of Jujutsu would eventually cause your seperation together. He'll be selfish, for a bit more — as long as you're the reason, as long it's you.

He loves you. You love him.

And that'll never change. Even if the world were to be thrown against the sun, even if the largest meteor ever recorded were to suddenly crash through the earth, even if a million natural disasters were to occur at once.

This may or may not be the first and last time he'll ever be so greedy for another person's love, touch, warmth, and joy. As long it's you until the end of time, his soul and heart belongs to you — and will never stop being greedy.

(*´▽｀)ﾉﾉ ( Did I cook guys?? Satoru gives me cuteness aggression sometimes, tbh. I wanna hug him so bad ugh. )

[gingernut1314]

Turkey and Cheese ch. 2

Summary: On the run from enforcers, you collide straight into someone in your rush. Someone whose seafoam eyes take your breath away and all you want to do is spend a little bit more time with him.

Content: female reader x Silco, pre-season 1 arcane, first meeting, gendered terms, reader has water manipulation powers, young Silco, young reader, you share a stolen sandwich with Silco, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna)

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: The characters will age up, but the plan I have set up is reader meets Silco and the others when they are all still teens so there is only going to be like...one or two more chapters as teens and then we're getting aged up. I hope you all enjoy!!

↞ to The Water's Cold Embrace Masterlist | Arcane Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

You got too much joy picking on the Enforcers that hang around the bridge that separated the shining city of Piltover and the not-so-bright Undercity. You stole their lunches and their coin, called them every name under the sun, and threw rocks at them from dark corners. 

It pissed them the fuck off making it prime entertainment for you.

Your guardian, Janna, disapproved of your shenanigans. The lectures were too long whenever you were caught. Lectures about reasonability and grace and blah, blah, blah . 

So, to avoid such mind-numbing lectures, you waited until Janna disappeared for days on end to let chaos ensue.

And this fog-heavy day was one of those days.

Your stomach growled, clenching and twisting in hunger as you knelt on top of one of the run-down tenement houses near the bridge. You watched four Enforcers walk out of the broader toll house, switching posts with the other four Enforcers standing before the bridge. 

You had been watching them for most of the night, counting and double counting how many Enforcers were on duty. You counted nine in total, which was one less than there had been last time you’d done this. 

Someone must be sick or had been fired or, maybe, they were dead. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter one bit to you. All you cared about now was earning a few coins and getting a homemade meal from someone's spouse for a late dinner.

You rushed into action after one last scan of the area, before rushing across the roofs. When you came to the end of this line of tenements, you hopped down onto the fire escape below, a small grunt escaping your lips before starting down the rusting stairs. 

Once on the ground, you yanked your hood up and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, trying to keep a low profile as you walked the short distance across the recently redone cobblestoned road. You disappeared into the large shadows the street lamps cast, walking along the smooth wall of the tollhouse.

“Beth just got accepted into that fancy college she wanted.” A gruff voice filtered out from a small, open window. 

“Well, shit--” Was the last of that conversation you heard as you climbed up a ladder around the back of the building. 

You stayed crouched low as you made way to the vent in the center of the roof. You had used this vent for years, but, as you quietly pulled the metal covering off and lowered yourself into the vent system, found it might be one of your last times. 

You were getting too big to fit in the vent.

This was a child's game, as unfortunate as it was to admit, and at the ripe age of fourteen, you were no child anymore. 

“We’ve been saving up--” And blah, blah, blaaahhhh . 

Enforcers rarely had anything exciting to talk about. It was always about someone's family or about whatever game they had gone to watch. It had nearly sent you into tears as you crawled through the vents. 

Where was the excitement? The danger? 

Didn’t Encforcer beat Undercityians up for fun? 

You finally made it to the vent in the locker room area. It was bland and hardly fit hardly enough lockers for every enforcer stationed here, but to you, it was a gold mine. 

You opened the vent, placing it slowly on the other side of the vent shaft, and hopped into the room, hitting the ground on near-silent feet and a held-in grunt. You waited a few seconds to see if anyone had heard you before starting on opening each locker and taking as many coin potches as you could find. The only good thing the last locker had to offer was a piece of gum instantly shoved into your mouth. 

Just as you opened the fridge and grabbed someone's paper bag lunch, the door opened. 

Your blood went cold. You've been caught one too many times over the years, but each time it happened it never helped ease your nerves. 

A younger-looking Enforcer saw you instantly, his eyes narrowing in something like confusion. You didn’t recognize this Enforcer from past interactions, so you assumed he was new. 

“Hey! Who the hell are you?” 

“No one.” You pulled on the most innocent look you could muster, hiding the lunch behind your back. “I think I might have taken a wrong turn.” 

“A wrong--” The Enforcer then saw the open and ransacked lockers. It clicked then, what had happened here right under his nose. 

Before the Enforcer had time to speak, you pushed past him into the small hallway. 

“Hey!” He shouted after you but you were already booking it into the office area where six enforcers sat. They noticed you almost instantly, rising from their seats in the blink of an eye. One tried to grab you, but you twisted out of his way and dodged another on-coming man. 

The front door open with a bang and all but threw yourself into the street, your gum falling from your mouth in the process. 

“Grab her!” One of the enforcers shouted, singling the four others standing before the bridge. Those four were too far away to do any grabbing, so you didn’t feel the need to be worried about them. 

You ran downwards, toward the looming city you called home. As you ran closer and closer, the air seemed to get thicker-- dirtier than that of the air by the bridge. This wasn’t anything new to you, your throat and lungs taking less than a second to adjust to the polluted air. 

The continuous shouting from behind let you know that the Enforcers were still hot on your tail. You would either lose them eventually in this maze of run-down buildings and streets or they would give up, finding they didn’t want to venture as far into the city as you were going to take them. 

Time would only tell which it would be, so you pushed yourself harder. 

You made the first sharp turn into a familiar alleyway, an enforcer that had been getting too close to you tripping and falling into a couple of barrels full of fish. You gave a sharp laugh, looking over your shoulder to watch that scene unfold in your utter glee.

And just as you made to turn back around, you collided into something solid and bony.

You and the person you’d just hit at full speed went tumbling to the ground, each giving own round of curses. 

A pair of blue-green eyes halted your escape. A pair of eyes that took your breath away…well, maybe it had been from the impact but your breath was differently stolen and these eyes--eyes like seafoam weren’t helping.

The blue-green eyes were attached to a thin, sharp face covered in skin that looked like it hardly got out in the sun. 

Though everyone down here always had that “hardly seen the sun” look about them. 

This guy was very attractive. Too attractive some might say. 

So attractive it almost had you forgetting about the four enforcers running after you. 

 The blue-green eyes narrowed up at you, completely pissed off. 

“Get the hell off--” 

 “She’s in there!” The enforcer that had just fallen into fish guts shouted to his coworkers. The boy’s eyes widened and he looked past you to find what you already knew was coming into the alley. 

“Do you have a canteen?” The boy snapped back to you, anger written clear on his face. 

“What? No--” You gave him an eye roll. 

Who didn't carry a water canteen with them? 

Well…you didn’t, but that was beside the point. 

“A flask?” You tried again.

“You ran into me and brought enforcers with you and you're asking me if I have a--” He gave a startled sort of sound as you began patting him down. You’d grown tired of his rambling. You found a flask in his jacket in an inner pocket and gave a little sound of triumph. 

“Thank you!” You sweetly spoke, pushing yourself off the guy who looked so bewildered by you it was cute . You turned your attention back onto the four enforcers blocking the exit. 

“Thought you could get away with it this time, girl .” One of them hissed through his mask. You recognized this man to be Rufus, an Enforcer that had been stationed on the bridge the longest. 

“But whatever did I do, sir? ” He gave a growl, taking a step forward that was meant to be threatening. 

“Give it back and we’ll forget this ever happened.” You knew that was a lie. As soon as you got close enough, they’d grab you and throw you in jail. 

“Promise?” Rufus was growing impatient, you could see it in his brown, tired eyes.

“ Promise .” He grit out. This made you smile. 

“Alright, mister.” You pulled the flask out from behind your back then. “Catch!” And the flask was tossed Rufus’s way. 

You let your magic flow through your veins and felt for the water in the alcohol. 

Rufus caught the flask with ease. He looked from it to you. 

“What is--” With great effort, you made the little bit of water in the alcohol explode. The flask broke into pieces, shooting up into his eyes. He gave a scream and that was your queue to leave. 

You snapped around, finding the boy standing there, shock on his face. He had a lean build and was very, very tall. It just added to his overall attractiveness. 

Focus!  

“Time to go!” You swiped the fallen lunch off the ground and grabbed for the boy in one go, pulling him further down the alley.

It only took the boy a moment to regain his right mind and in a split second, he was the one pulling you along.

You followed the boy, climbing up on top of the dumper closest to the broken fire escape. You let go of his arm so he could launch himself at the escape, slamming into the railing with a bang. Once he was over the rusting railing, you were quick to jump and slam into the escape.

The boy grabbed your wrist once your two feet were safely on the other side of the railing before continuing to drag you up stair after stair until you made it to the roof, which someone had been trying to grow some kind of plants on. Just with a quick glance at the spotting plant, you could tell it wasn’t going very well. 

Shouting from the enforcers below had you wiggling out of the boy's grip and looking over the edge, finding one had climbed up onto the dumpster while the others looked defeated. 

“If it's any consolation, you’ll be feeding a poor underling for a day or so.” You shouted down to them, waving the bag mockingly.

“Don’t think this is over, girl!” Rufus spat. You only gave him a cheeky smile. 

“Tell your wife she makes the best turkey and cheese sandwiches. I’ve been looking forward to it all month.” Rufus gave a growl before storming out of the alley. Slowly, the other enforcers followed after him, throwing you dirty looks as they left.  

The boy grabbed you then, whipping you around to face him. 

You weren’t always the best at figuring out how people were feeling, mainly thanks to being raised by a seemingly emotionless wind spirit, but you could tell in a moment this guy was angry. 

“If this is about your flask, I’m--” The guy was quick to not let you finish. 

“What the hell were you thinking, bringing enforcers to the Lanes?” He snapped. You merely gave him a very slow blink.

“I’m fully prepared to buy you a new one.” You finished, earning a frustrated growl from the guy. 

You liked what he had going on--this uptight, angry, authoritative thing. You liked it so much it made you want to tease him to no end. 

“Why I’m trying to get a child to see reason--” 

“Whoa there.” You held a hand up, further cutting him off. “You’re like--what, a year older than me?” He narrowed his seafoam blue eyes at you once more.

“You can’t be older than twelve.” 

“Nope! Fourteen.” The guy rolled his eyes.

“A child.” 

“Alright, mister-high-and-mighty. How old are you then?” 

“It hardly matters.” Your mouth fell open in disbelief, but before you could nag him anymore, he continued. “You realize they will be back.” You pulled out of the guy's grip again and began walking across the roof. 

To your surprise, the boy followed. 

“The reason I pick on those buffoons at the bridge is because I know their threats are empty.” You opened the brown paper bag and rummaged around until you found a foil-wrapped sandwich your stomach had been growling to get a bite out of. “Especially Rufus.” You took one of the halves out and extended it to the boy. “Want some? It’s the good stuff.” He looked it over for a moment, eyes still narrowed. 

You could tell he didn’t want to take it from you, not when he still looked so annoyed at you…so you gave it a little wiggle that pulled a sigh from his mouth. 

“Thank you.” He took it from you, his eyes finally softening. His fingers brushed the tiniest bit against yours, but it was enough to send sparks running through your every last nerve. 

You watched the boy as he took a bite from the sandwich. Watched as his eyes widened the slightest bit. It was so slight most wouldn’t have noticed, but you had been watching him too intently. 

“Right? It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten!” You gave him a bright smile. One you rarely ever gave--one that was genuine --before chomping down into your own half.

You hopped up on the edge of the roof, which overlooked the whole of the Lanes. From up here, you could spot the tops of the highest buildings and the smoke billowing up from the mines beneath the city. Smoke that danced and twirled upward, illuminating the lights shining from across the city. In the day, the smoke would cast the sky in murky shades of gray, depending on how bright the sun was shining. 

It was quite beautiful, despite its run-down and polluted nature. 

It was still your home. 

“I didn’t mean to bring the enforcers here…but maybe I gave someone the chance to get across that golden bridge--for them to seek their fortune or a fresh start.” You looked back to the boy who had jumped up onto the edge with you. He turned his gaze towards you, scanning you over with seemingly all-seeing eyes. Eyes that made your skin seem to burn.

“Is that what you want?” The question shocked you.

In The Lanes, most didn’t get too close to one another. Not unless they had to. It was a very lonely world, but you endured.

“No,” You scoffingly said. You wouldn’t even last a day over there. You were too wild, too much a part of the Undercity. You gave the boy a look over of your own, though much less all-seeing as his had been. 

“What about you?” You cautiously asked. Though you didn’t at all mind sharing things about yourself, you didn’t know how this guy was. All you knew is you enjoyed his company….and you didn’t want to be alone all over again quite yet. 

“No,” He replayed, looking back over the city. “There’s too much potential here.” 

You liked that. You liked that a lot . 

You took another big bite from your sandwich, letting the night air fill the quiet between you two. 

You swallowed, glancing back over him as you worked up the courage to speak again. 

And once that small bit of courage was wrestled up, you told him your name.

The boy turned his eyes back on you, his longish brown hair blowing slightly in the breeze. He seemed to hesitate too for a moment.

“Silco.” He spoke before finishing off his half of the sandwich. 

You liked his name. You liked it almost as much as you liked his face. 

“How did you manage to make my flask to explode?” You smirked, turning away from the boy, Silco , once more. 

“A lady never reveals her secrets.” Silco gave a laugh. It was a tiny huffing one, but a laugh nonetheless. 

You liked his laugh. You liked more than his name and face.

Previous | Next

[iambilliejeanok]

🩷Lust and Tradition🩷

Summary: Gojo Satoru finds himself obsessing over his arranged wife’s innocence. He ends up finding himself doing things to her that even frightens him at times. Y/n who never even knew what sex was until she married Satoru, must now navigate how she should manage her own uncontrollable lust to please her husband, who simply has no mercy when it comes to having her obey him and his strange desires. How can she continue to behave like a lady when he makes her feel like a whore at times and just how long can Satoru play this out until he finally manages to break her.

Warnings: 18+, no minors please, very explicit, shameless smut, nsfw, cunnilingus, oral sex, tongue fucking, vaginal fingering, mentions of vaginal and anal penetration, dacryphillia, spanking, power play, arranged marriage, nipple play, kinky, edging, smut from the beginning to the end.

Gojo Satoru is a man who admires tradition and order. He’s excited to have a wife now, even though you were chosen for him, he still managed to fall for you rather quickly, especially because he finds himself obsessing over your innocence. Your family had groomed you into being a lady perfect for just him. Your favorite color, food, hobbies and abilities were all manipulated to whatever it was that he preferred, all in hopes that the Gojo clan would choose you of all the beautiful women who were also hopeful to marry him. The day finally came and your family praised you more than you ever heard them in front of his elders and Satoru loved everything they had to say about you, but for some reason or another, it was only one piece of information that really stuck with him. You’re a virgin. You’ve never even kissed a boy and the thought of it drove him absolutely crazy. A year into your marriage and you’re fully aware of just how insane he is. He always strays away from penetrating your vagina because he wants to hold on that for as long as possible. If he’s going to take away your innocence and ruin your tight little holes, you’re going to have to beg him for it and if you’re lucky, and he feels convinced, he might give in and grace you with the pleasure of his thick girth tearing you up while you claw cry and scream for him, but he won’t make it easy for you. Only a woman who can entertain his sick and twisted kink for however long he desired can have the pleasure of having his dick anywhere inside of them and since you are his wife, this is going to have to be your fate. Unfortunately for you, the day hasn’t come yet and I say unfortunately because savoring your innocence doesn’t necessarily mean you’re not getting any sexual pleasure. Trust me, he will certainly ensure that you’re getting a lot, even more than what you want sometimes, but once everything is over and done with and you’re face is burried against his warm chest, stifling your moans while trying to recover from the pleasure he let on you, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit unsatisfied. Your vagina is still aching for him, and you can feel it burning so hot as you fantasize of finally having his warm, thick cock massage those aches away. You don’t care about just how painful it might be, you’re too horny to worry about any pain and would happily take on whatever pain you might feel in the name of just feeling him inside your most intimate part.

You squirm against him after those sessions of “innocent pleasure”, as he calls it, that he graces you with when he’s in a good mood and he always notices your uncontrollable lust. He will pretend he doesn’t mind it, but you know he does and you’ll pay for it soon, because despite he’s own pervertedness, he is a traditional man in every sense of the word and will not hesitate to give his wife a decent spanking for her indecency and impure thoughts. The mornings will go on as usual and you’ll start them by waking up before him and preparing his clothing for the day and some breakfast too, unless he decides to start off your mornings by indulging himself with your body. He confuses you sometimes, because he strongly forbids you from entertaining any “filthy” thoughts of him touching you and after a year of being his wife, you still struggle to understand why you’re not allowed to have him how you want to. Afterall, he’s your husband and you are his wife, but according to tradition, all you can do is listen to him and never disobey. So even after he violates your entire body, expect for you vagina, in a way that is most delicious and pleasurable and drives you to tears at times, you cannot question why he doesn’t seal the deal and finally make you his. He leaves after breakfast to work and you’re left feeling like you’re burning at the stake with lust after he took you on the table once again this morning. He does this often and you’re afraid you really might loose it sometime.

The evenings are more intense than the mornings and last much longer and each night you swear you might lose your mind, Satoru taking pleasure in sucking on your nipples. He could do this for hours, he does often and will make you cry just from this, your nipples so sensitive from his prolonged sucking and squeezing. You jump and whimper with every nip he gives your perky buds, trembling on his lap as you cum, despite how painful it gets and you’re too timid to ask him to stop, biting your lip hard yet still failing to stifle your whining and whimpering, gripping his hair without care of causing him pain and your panties are soaked by the time he finally decides to move on.

After ridding you of your last piece of clothing, he places you down whoever he’s taking you, and sometimes, opts to kneel in between your legs just to torture you all the more. He spreads your folds apart so wide that you can’t help but squirm with desire, your vagina aching so intensely that it hurts more than you can bare, but when you voice this to him, he tells you the same thing every time, that he will kiss it better and the ache will go away, which it never does, you know you need him deep inside of you, you need his thick cock to caress and massage you in place his kisses won’t reach, and it frustrates you to tears that he doesn’t give you just that.

You lose yourself as he sucks and slurps on your clit, and if you’re lucky, he’ll lap the entrance of your achy hole, Satoru completely lost in the taste of your arousal and you’ll use this opportunity to grind your hips against his face harder, but to no avail, since he pulls back. Sometimes you’ll feel his tongue penetrate just the entrance before he goes back to sucking on your clit, and you can’t stop yourself from whining and whimpering. You know how good it feels to have him tongue fuck you, since he reserves for you that much relief on special occasions. He once fingered your achy vagina on your birthday, deep and hard. You came so hard and so much that day that you cried, and he had to hold you tight until you calmed down. You hold onto that memory dearly and you’ve never wanted your birthday to come sooner, hoping that he’ll give you that same experience again, but until then, all you get is his hot mouth in your clit, sucking you into a fit of orgasms so intense they make you violently shake and shiver. While he’s eating you out, you try and remember how his fingers felt inside of you, but it’s been so long that the memory fades a little with every passing day. You can still remember the delicious pain of the stretch of his middle and ring finger when he first shoved them into you and you’ve been craving to feel that ever since. You remember how they felt stroking your walls. You immediately reacted, holding onto him like your life depended on it as you cried out in pleasure right in his face. He makes you squirt often from simply eating you out, but his fingers inside of you made you squirt harder and more relentlessly, you came at his will and couldn’t control it and the way he spoke to you, coupled with his never ending thrusting digits drove you to a magical bliss you could never forget.

“Its not right for you to behave this way sweetheart. It’s unladylike and impure. I married a pure lady and I expect you to remain this way. That’s why I have to do this, so you don’t give in to this impurity. Please understand my love”, he says to you as he holds you tight in his arms after spanking you particularly hard, hushing you from crying and wetting his shirt. “B-but for h-how l-long?”, you ask in stuttered breaths. “Until I see fit”, he immediately answers, looking down at you with disapproval in his gorgeous cloudy, blue eyes and you quickly hide your face in his chest again crying even harder, his arms squeezing you tighter. Maybe if he actually made love to you with his dick like every other normal husband out there, you wouldn’t be such a horny mess and therefore, he wouldn’t have to spank you like this. You could even settle for his fingers. You just needed him inside of you.

Despite your burning and sensitive skin from being spanked good, he still spreads your cheeks apart to eat your little hole out the way you wish he’d eat out your vagina. You might whimper from the pain of his big hands gripping your sensitive skin to keep you open, but when his tongue, that you love so much, penetrates your tighter hole, you forget about the pain, scooting back onto him in hopes that he’ll go deeper, and for this hole, he does just what you need him to, shoving his tongue as deep as it can go inside of you, with a rhythm hard enough to make you cum so good you have to try to crawl away from him. He doesn’t let you though and holds you in place as he continues to slurp and suck the rest of you, prolonging your orgasm until your begging him for a break. You love it when he eats your ass out. You love everything he does to you, and just wish he’d finally fuck you. You’d even let him fuck you in both holes and sometimes when you really really feel yourself on the brink on insanity, you promise him you won’t fuss and whine or complain if he does fuck you. He can fuck you as hard as he wants and you’ll take it, begging and pleading for him to make love to you and the longer you talk like that the more furious he gets, wrapping his hand around your neck in frustration. It takes him a moment to calm himself down, because when you beg him like an ill mannered whore, it angers him enough that he despreslty does want to fuck you. Fuck you until you’ll shut up and not ask for him like this again. You truly have balls to speak such filthy words to him and it’s times like this when the spankings leave you sobbing in his arms.

Please understand, he’s just obsessed with your purity and wants to stretched it out for as long as he desires, restricting himself to what he can do with the rest of your beautiful body and despite the teary meltdown you have after a punishment, you still thoroughly enjoy everything he does to you and look forward to it at every passing moment, especially when he holds and comforts you until you stop crying. You’re too ashamed to confide in any of your sisters or friends about your sexual feelings or even about what you’re experiencing, afraid that he will grow upset with you sharing such intimate details of your commitment to him with others. And he’s not interested in sharing his own dark desires with his peers, because he knows he’s fucked up in this regard. Other men take pleasure in sleeping with their wives, and even though he longs to feel that hot, liquidy, virgin tightness swallow him deep inside of you way more than you could ever imagine, he won’t allow himself to fuck you, becauses he’s much too eager to see you break down until you’re really behaving otherwise from how you were raised. only then will he finally fuck your, as a reward for allowing him to bring you to this point and he will make sure that it will feel better than his two fingers on your birthdays or his tongue that he fucks both your holes with when he’s feeling generous.You see, he’s had his eye on you long before his marriage date was even set and already discussed with his elders that it would be you and no one else. Since he first laid eyes on you until now, he grew an unatural, sick desire to break you until you were nothing near what your parents raised just for him. His desire scared him sometimes too, but it turned him on to a point where he’d come in his pants just thinking about it and the first time it happened, is when he knew he had to accept it.

You listen to your friends talk about their own experiences and it’s always a mission for you to hold your tongue, because even the way you feel is only for him and no one else to know. From all the squirming you do under extreme desire from not feeling satisfied with just his tongue work after he plays around with you, he leaves you with a good spanking before heading out to work. Bending you over his knee at the dinner table, or holding you close against him in the bathroom before he hops in the bathtub for you to wash him, generously showering each of your cheeks with hard smacks, your ass jiggling from the force, turning him on all over again as you cling to him, trying not to make too much noise from the fiery sting his hands cause you. Your ass never gets a break, because he does this to you almost every single day and each day feels ten times worse than the day before. He’ll give you a long break from his merciless punishments sometimes for your own relief of course. He’s not a heartless monster. He’s simply a man of tradition and takes disciplining his wife seriously, to “keep you pure and innocent just for him”, so even besides your shame, your fear towards him is freshly awakened after he spanks you, so you keep your mouth shut, and quietly go on about your day, patiently waiting for him to come back home to somewhat sedate the angry ache between your legs, silently praying to the gods that he might allow you to experience him fully tonight because you just don’t know how much longer you can go without doing something you might deeply regret. He can’t help but think about you wherever he goes, and today, he’s been smiling to himself about how much of a good girl you’ve been. He always forgives you for behaving like a whore, after all, he knows just how tough this is for you, it’s hard for him too. He’s thinking of surprising you with a nice dinner he plans on cooking himself and maybe he’ll fuck you just how you want him to, but only in your tight little asshole, and you’re going to endure it, just like you promised him you would.

[wosoamazing]

Boys Will Be Boys Have No Excuses

Beneath the Surface | Leah Williamson x R

Warnings: Anxiety & Symptoms of Anxiety, Bullying

Notes: Based off this request. Sorry it's taken a while but I hope you all like it, also if anyone has any more requests for this series let me know. (As always don't know if I like it but yeah) 1.6K words

“Hey Bubs,” Leah said as she walked into the nurses office, and the pit in your stomach only deepened, you’d totally forgotten that your Mum had gone away, because she had a physio conference which she had to present at in Germany, Leah picking you up meant your [lan was ruined. You knew your Mum would let you have a mental health day without asking you the reason, because you would eventually answer her, however Leah wouldn’t, and you didn’t want to tell her, it was just some teasing that you were seriously over reacting too. You couldn’t keep faking though because you knew Leah would see right through it, so you had to be fine, and you’d have to do your school work and swim stuff and hopefully because you were doing work and not lying around she wouldn’t get annoyed at you.

The next morning you felt anxious, your head ached, you’d cried yourself to sleep, the dread of having to return to school, and see everyone, and face whatever the boys had to say overwhelmed you and you were scared. Trying to reduce the risks of whatever could happen, you didn’t eat breakfast, hoping that way the unease in your stomach wouldn’t turn into something more. You knew Leah wouldn’t let you stay home, so there wasn't even a point in asking, you knew she wasn’t happy having to pick you up when you were fine and in all honesty you felt guilty for making her leave training for you, so you figured you’d just have to push through, it was only a little bit of anxiety, it really wasn’t a big deal. 

However as you got further from home the feeling of unease built and it was harder to ignore the twisting in your stomach, but you didn’t know whether to ignore it or tell Leah. You didn’t want her to think you were faking, which she probably would think, but you also didn’t want to be sick in the car. But it was all just in your head anyway, you’d be fine, you just needed to stop being stupid and pathetic. However at the next set of traffic lights your stomach rebelled. Your throat burned as you brought up a mix of stomach acid and water, Leah was quick to lean over the centre console to grab you a sick bag from the glove box, handing it to you, before she hesitated, not really knowing what to do next. The light turned green and she did a U-turn, heading back home.

“Do you want me to pull over or do you think you’ll be okay until we get home?” Leah asked, her voice breaking slightly. You didn’t respond, too mortified at the fact you’d just thrown up all over the car and yourself, it was just some anxiety and now you’d ruined Leah’s day.

“Do you want some water?” Leah asked, trying to do anything helpful at all and you just shook your head, as much as your mouth tasted disgusting, you were sure you’d be sick again if you had some water.

The rest of the drive was silent, and as you pulled into the driveway Leah handed you the keys which you gratefully took, rushing out of the car and to the door, placing the keys on the hallway table before running upstairs to have a shower.

-

Whilst you were showing Leah called your Mum as she cleaned out the car, which thankfully wasn’t too bad as most of it ended up on you.

“Hey, how are you?” Maddie asked as she answered the phone. “Currently cleaning vomit out of the car.” “What. Why? What happened?” Leah sighed heavily, “I don’t know, yesterday I had to pick her up because she was feeling sick but she was fine, she didn’t have a fever and she acted normal once we were home, even did her school work. So I figured she would be okay to go to school today. We were about half way there and she just threw up no warning. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have just assumed she was fine” “Babe, it’s not your fault. It’s no one's fault, it just happens, do you think she is isck or do you think it’s something else?”“I don’t know, maybe something else, I mean she seemed to get more agitated as we got closer to the school but I don’t know if I’m just overthinking things,” “Okay, maybe we should talk to her, but Babe I’m really really sorry but I have to go, the presentation is about to start, but call me later, please,”

-

You stood in the bathroom, wondering whether you could just risk running to your bedroom to get clothes, having forgotten some in your rush to get clean.

Mother Williamson: I’ve left some clothes for you outside the bathroom in case you forgot some. I’ve also put some things in your bedroom for you that you might need, but I’ve also got the couch set up for you if you feel up to coming down. I don’t mind which you choose, just please call out for me or come down if you need anything.

You opened the door slightly and there sat some trackies and a hoodie, it was your favourite set, a set Leah had gifted you, and you felt guilty for not telling Leah you were going to be sick, she clearly cared about you but it was obvious she didn't want to overstep.

-

“Hey,” Leah said softly as you walked into the living room, deciding to ease her guilt and go down, Leah also gave good hugs that made you feel better, and you could do with one of those currently.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled before tears started to roll down your cheeks, and she held her arms out, directing you to come to her, and you did, you sat down next to her and pulled your knees to your chest, before hiding your face in her shoulder, and your tears turned into sobs.

“You’re okay bubs, I’ve got you,” Leah said softly as she began rubbing your back with one hand and placed her other hand on the back of your head protectively as you cried into her, “I’m not mad, I promise, and I’m sorry for making you go to school when you clearly weren’t feeling well,” you continued to cry into Leah as she held you tightly, murmuring calming words to you occasionally.

-

“What’s going on with you?” Leah asked you as she continued to run her fingers through your hair, having decided you’d calmed down enough to ask you the question, your head now rested in her lap and a blanket covered your body. You just shrugged in response. “Is there something happening at school? Swimming? I’m not mad and I won’t be mad I just want to help, but to do that I need to know what is going on,”

“Some of the boys have been saying things to me recently and then yesterday they made a list of the hottest girls in the swim team and they put me last, said I was too ‘muscular’ for a girl and that I looked like I was pregnant sometimes. Which wasn’t really bad but everyone saw it and it was embarrassing, and they have been saying things about you, and Mum and Cait, because you’re Lesbians and um, he-he kept telling people I made up stories about my past to get attention and sympathy and when we did those persuasive speeches the other day he asked the teacher when I finished whether we got marks taken off us for claiming to have personal experience with things we didn’t,” you spat out before pausing briefly, “but can we please not talk about it? I don’t want to, not right now at least,”

“We can talk about it later, I won't force you to talk about anything but we will have to talk at some stage, okay?” She replied, trying to hide the fact she was fuming, “But I also want you to know that what he is doing isn’t right, and you have every right to feel this way, I promise you we will fix this,” she told you and you nodded softly.

“What do you want to do the rest of the day?” Leah asked as you had brunch at one of the cafes near your school, you just shrugged your shoulders as you took another bite of your sandwich. She’d told you that you weren’t going to school that morning, you had a meeting with Josh the head of sport at 8:20 and then you’d leave. You think she still felt guilty about yesterday's events, however you weren’t complaining, the school said they were investigating this issue and as this wasn’t the first time he had done something like this and been the main culprit it would be more than likely he would be kicked out of the sport program if not the school, however his parents were quite rich and he was a good swimmer, you couldn’t deny it, so you doubted whether that was actually true, realistically there was probably more chance of him staying then going. The deputy principal was also being investigated as he was the point of contact for several other complaints about these boys, but mainly just the one and he had swept it under the rug.

[n0tamused]

Hi! Could I request Jiyan, who didn't realise he was in love with his best friend!reader until he almost lost them. The moment he held them unconscious in his arms everything just clicked.

Angst with a happy ending, please.

A/n: sorry this took some time to write! I initially planned to write this as some short drabble/scenario but as you can see, things went out of control lol I do hope you enjoy this :) Also a small note - I initially wrote this with you/yours stuff, but I wanted to experiment this method, so I do apologize if there is some mistakes left here regarding that. Do tell me which one you guys prefer more? You/yours or they/them/she/her.

Contents: Jiyan x GN!Reader, they/them pronouns, blood and injuries, angst but turns to bittersweet at the end, fluff? They both live at the end so we can count it as a happy ending.

Words: 3867

'I can't do this without you'

Holding the weight of a body in his arms never felt heavier before. The gradual added weight on his heart and lungs kept getting heavier and heavier by the moment, he was sure it would make his ribs burst from the pressure. And he wouldn’t be surprised if the next time he looked down he saw his own heart beating outside his very body. (Y/n) was pale, bleeding and giving no response to any action he took. “Please..” His lips muttered, but to what extent his plea stretched out, no one could tell. 

His dragon came crashing through the waves of TDs like a storm, breaking apart their limbs and turning them to ash before he himself emerged from its glowing maw, jumping in front of (Y/n) with spear in hand. Jiyan’s face twisted in a fierce scowl, his sharp eyes hooded beneath his knit brows as he plunged into the remaining monsters that lurked around. But not even after he dealt with them did he achieve the quiet that usually followed a concluded battle. The buzzing in his ears did not stop. His heart beat still thundered between his ears, and the sound only multiplied once his golden eyes landed on the falling body of his dearest companion.

There was no time, he told himself, gathering all the courage and patience he found within himself, gathering them in his arms and fleeing from the charred fields as if fire was threatening to lick up his heel. The buzzing sound was deafening, so akin to silence yet it was everything but. He heard nothing else, but he heard it all. As he pushed his way past the soldiers at the front, eyes wide and staring into the void, trusting only his feet to find the path for him. He needs nothing else but to hurry and scold himself for not being able to go faster.

He carried them into the first medical tent his eyes landed on, the flap of the tent slapping out of place and before his form and before he could process the light slap the material did to his cheek, he was placing them down onto one rolled out mat in the corner. He saw the lips of the medical staff move, but no words reached his ears, and for all he knew he could’ve been barking or whispering at them to do something - to help them. He joined in the efforts, plucking out the gauze and the antiseptics from  the corners of the tent and gathering them next to the mat as one healer already began to cut away their dirty clothes to gain better access to the wound. 

The bare skin glistened with blood, the only shade of theirs that could make Jiyan feel sick to the stomach. Other healers in the tent looked at him in bewilderment as his breathing was yet to calm down, labored and ragged, but his hands held utmost care and precision as he started on the gauze, already keeping steps ahead and waiting until the healer next to him peeled the clothes away. Each layer unfolded like a wet petal, revealing the yawning gash underneath. Jiyan’s golden eyes turned a shade darker under the pressure and the light in the tent, turning a shade of olive instead, sick with worry. Were they gone already? He looks at their face, glimpsing their peaceful expression, dotted with splatters of blood and grime. They’re still bleeding, he notes as his fingers become slick with blood whilst he worked on their wound, there was still a beating heart inside of them, and that meant life. His mind spun prayers on repeat, prayers he thought he had long since forgotten the words of, favoring battle chants over putting his hope into something he couldn’t see or touch. How long till (Y/n) wakes?

Long time has passed until his mind has reeled back around to the present. He was alone now, aside from (Y/n), huddled on a small wooden chair in the opposite corner from which he could see them, patched up and under the light. His hands, once so calm and steady, had begun to shake as realization settled within him. How he could have so easily lost them, with so many words yet to be spoken, hurt more than any wound he sustained. Blood caked on his fingers, falling off into dust as he flexed them into a fist before releasing again. All the worry made him angry, and anger never suited him. It made him think badly, irrationally, and in the silence that followed the medical emergency of their state, all thoughts took root deep within his mind and soul, festering like a neglected cut. (Y/n) shouldn’t have been allowed on the front lines, he should have set them back, or even better - he should have misused his position and sent them home, risking to humiliate them for being sent home for seemingly nothing, other than his selfish need to keep them safe on all accounts. 

Sighing, Jiyan shuddered at his own mind’s skilled ways of wearing him down. It played out his image and character in ways he knew he’d never act. He’d never do those things, but in such a state as he was in, he nearly believed it all. Pressing his forehead into the clean heels of his palms he stared at his own boots until the silence became a soft comforting buzz. Sleep had tried to pull himself down his eyelids, but each time he refused it, eventually finding himself sitting at their side again, instead of the faraway corner. Long hours had passed, and Jiyan felt the camp go to bed with the night settling in the corners of the world. But he couldn’t, it would be a disservice to you if he left you alone, but his duty called - and he internally begged for forgiveness as he stepped out of the tent to check up on all the others, cleaning his hands while he was at it. 

There was blood on his hands.

And it was theirs.

And he’d never be able to wash it away, no matter how hard he scrubbed, or how many times he washed his hands. 

Morning came chill and misty, but Jiyan’s body felt none of it. The cold clung onto him like a second coat, greeting him like an old friend and embracing him as the same. He only hoped the cold did not embrace them too. The night was sleepless for Jiyan, and after he had ensured the safety of others and checked in with his Captains, he had found his way back to the medical tent he left (Y/n) in. 

“There’s a lot for me to say, my dear…friend..” Jiyan’s pale lips formed the last word hesitantly, treating it as an impostor instead of the usual warming endearment in which fashion he used it years ago. The word had long since become strange to him, yet he wished not to risk disrespecting them in this state, heavily considering the fact they may not even share in his sentiments.  “Yet you seem so eager to cut your life short.. “ he sneered lightly, not at them, but rather at himself, blame always within reach to be pulled towards himself by his very hand.

“What would  I do without you..? Who would I be without you?” The world around him seemed to quiet down in silent sympathy.  “You mean so much more than you believe, more than you know.. I’ve wished to tell you, but all you force me to do is scold you and weep over you like some child… like when we were kids…” 

A twitch, and then the fingers of (Y/n)’s hand grasped into a fist, making his eyes widen at the sight he barely glimpsed with his head hanging low, staring at the ground. His golden eyes snapped to their face, seeing the corners of their lips curl downward into a pain filled scowl. 

“(Y/n)!-” he beamed with all the softness his surprise would allow him as he kneeled beside them in one swift swoop. His hand came over their eyes to shield it from the light once he saw how their nose scrunched and brows knit together. Relief filled their eyes as the intrusive light no longer tried to pry them open so cruelly. Dizziness was still huge, feeling as if it split their blood apart, making it as light as clouds, and making them float on top of the mat. 

“What’re you.. rambling about…?” (Y/n) muttered, throat dry and voice coarse and wincing, their face once more ended up in a painful twist. Jiyan didn’t need all his medical knowledge to see they were still out of it, his frown deepening, but his heart raced up to climb into his throat. 

“I was saying how reckless you can be..” he whispered, blinking away the nervousness from his eyes. His other hand hovered over them, refusing to touch them in fear of hurting them. But his eyes drank in everything, looking for any anomalies that he may have not noticed before, although the chance he missed something was astronomically low with how keenly his eyes kept vigil over you throughout the night.  “Are you in pain? Tell me, I’ll help make it better” he told them, shuffling as he loomed over their body. 

(Y/n)’s eyes still refused to open after they fluttered shut, their throat bobbing, but swallowing nothing with how parched it felt. “Water..” They croaked, and suddenly light was kissing their eyelids again as Jiyan moved away in haste to fetch a bottle of water. 

He returned as quickly as he left, swift as the wind and helping them drink with one hand stabilizing their head and the other holding the bottle to their chapped lips, watching them carefully as they languidly took sips to drink. The gloved iron claw on his finger faintly scratched against their scalp, tangled between their hairs. Letting out a small sigh, thirst finally quenched, they finally opened their eyes to see just how disheveled and worried Jiyan looked. 

“Jiyan..” (Y/n) called him, watching as his face both hardened and mellowed at the drop of his name in that worn out tone. Their face looked confused to see him like this, not that they ever doubted he’d worry if they got injured, but the tension within this space felt like a maw of a beast, ready to snap its jaws shut. Something was amiss, something they couldn’t quite place.  The aching throb in their side didn’t subside, but they were able to somewhat ignore it for now, worry poisoning them into thinking of the worst - whatever could be worse than their own life nearly being taken away. The question remained unsaid, but it appeared as if Jiyan didn’t need the verbal communication to respond. 

“Nothing- don’t worry about it.. Please, lay down and tell me how you feel” He urged as he placed his palm onto their sweaty forehead, pushing it back onto the small pillow below. (Y/n) blinked, confused and scared and exhausted as he pawed gently at their skin, only pulling away after he ensured there was no rising heat. 

“I’m.. aching.. that’s all.. and sore all over”

“I believe that to be an understatement, this isn’t some small scratch.. You nearly..” Jiyan looks at the bandages, splotches of red already having bloomed through like little poppies in a faraway field. “I’ll get you something for the pain now… Don’t move.” It was a command, that last part, and left no room for any question or rebuttal as he lifted himself away, painfully severing the moment in favor of searching the place for painkillers and herbs. If there was a way to remain glued to their side and heal them in that way, he wouldn’t have ever left, and that option would have done his heart many favors.

“When will you start listening to orders?” he asked as he walked back to the mat, his hand grasping the gorge shaped pill box his mother gave him, his tone now heralding the lesson he was about to drop on them. His eyes refused to meet theirs as he crouched down again, popping the lid of the gorge open and letting two pills fall into his open palm. 

“Whenever you... decide to be less dense..” (Y/n) responded with a small cough that rippled the pain from their wound, and wincing they forced themselves to stay still. He did not take sweetly to the jest, his eyes focusing on them like a target, a beloved one at that.

“You should have called out.. I was there, I could have helped you out. You didn’t need to get hurt, and all because of your faulty sense of independence” Jiyan kept going, urgency for them to understand his side coloring his voice. He helped them sit slowly, apologizing for making them move in a husky and quiet tone, apologizing for making them sit and be here and be in pain, swallowing the big tasteless pills. 

Keeping their silence, (Y/n) looks down, guilt seeping through their veins and weary body which seemed to know no rest now. 

Sore and worried and dizzy and ever forgetful in this half slumbering state they could only grasp at the thin strings of consciousness as Jiyan loomed over them like a hawk, restless in his pursuit to help, yet he remained in the dark as to how else to do so. What else could he do except think of healing magic he had no possession of. His teeth grinded together, golden eyes flickering over them and then up to their face, meeting their bleary gaze.

“I’m sorry…”

(Y/n) whispered, one hand over their chest as they took breaths in, slow and weak, but good - they were not the shallow breaths you took when he was racing back to the medics and other healers with them in his arms. This was better.

Jiyan’s heart stuttered at the low tone that broke under the pressure he had placed upon them, unwilling yet it was no less necessary if he wished to have them understand. Too many times he had sat down with them, told them to be careful, to follow protocol and all the talked about strategies, to value the teammates at their sides, yet it all seemed for naught. What did those conversations mean, they could not heal you now and make you whole again. 

A shaky sigh drops from Jiyan, pulling all the weight from his shoulders and making him sag in his spot, head hanging low and heavy. What was he supposed to say?  He had words too many to share.

“It’s… fine.. What’s done is done, and we can’t change what happened.. It’s alright..”

“You’re mad at me..”

Of course he is. Grief has never bitten him so hard as in the moment he saw them stagger in the field, it made his stomach churn and his sides tickle as if wind passed through the hollows between his ribs. And he grieved as if he lost them while patching you up, so much so it poisoned him and made him mad, angry. 

“I.. I am not mad at you.. ” ‘I love you, why can’t you see?’ - a part of him wanted to say.

Blinking at him, tears bubbled up to their lash line, listening to him huff, unknowing of the inner turmoil he struggled through, the answer to close yet so far, holding you in suspense. Like a word about to be spoken.

“Why can’t you just listen to orders.. You throw yourself into danger as if you have lives to spare” Jiyan began, finding their eyes in a stern glare which mellowed out quickly. “You are not valued only as a soldier to be thrown across the board but as a human, someone’s companion.. (Y/n)..”

There’s a plea in his tone, and another in his eyes, and his fingers itch with the need to hold onto them, to let the venom of his grief seep into them too, to make them see, understand. It’s like a beast he’s hardly keeping at bay. When was the last time he felt so strongly about someone? Anyone? And to the point he’s shedding his general persona to give way to a man desperate to keep the few people he holds dear alive. Jiyan couldn’t name anyone.

“I understand that, but Jiyan.. how many nights have we spent talking about the day of peace? When there’s going to be no wars to fight? I know-” A cough interrupts them, but Jiyan does not jump at that opportunity to cut them off and scold them - he waits. “..I know it’s a childish dream, a hope, but peace is achievable. And if it means getting battered and bruised and hurt along the way, then so be it  - the road to peace is not paved in a bed of flowers..” (Y/n) frowns, nearly pouting, and in some absentminded state, their hand flails in the air in search of his, a purchase he gladly grants without a thought. 

Shaky fingers curl around his gloved ones, a tinge smaller, and more fragile than his own with the state now. They lack the grip they usually possess, yet they grasp and hold and he holds back, squeezing a bit tighter. God knows, he shares their view, their childish hope, but he can’t agree with it, not now.  “(Y/n).. Peace will mean little if you’re dead to see it..” It’s a whisper, as fragile as the wings of a hatchling, and as soft as the summer breeze. 

“That all will mean nothing to me either, it won’t be peace if you’re not with me to see it..” he added, his other hand grasping over their own, thumbing at their soft skin. He swallows thickly, hoping to wish away the tears that threaten to come up to his eyes.  “I lo-... I love …you…” 

Realization is slow to settle, but he sees it in their face, their eyes that fail to blink as they take him in, deciphering his words one by one, failing, at first, to understand their weight from the usual affections they shared before. Parting their lips, they fail to respond, their eyes flickering to the surroundings before they return to him, and it was as if all air had been knocked out of their lungs.  The meaning is written all over him, communicated through all ways but verbal and it was enough. They were children together, growing up and exploring the world, plucking strange berries from nature and sharing them together, they grew up together.

Now they are grown, and (Y/n) focuses on the thought that has appeared in their mind countless times before - growing old together. It was just out of reach, and it was not guaranteed and their actions on the battlefield nearly made it certain that the future would not embrace them together. Trying to blink the tears away, they look at Jiyan, apologetic and ashamed, but where they wished to seek forgiveness was unneeded, as Jiyan had already forgiven it, no matter the hurt. 

“I love you too-” The words were accompanied by a stray tear wetting their cheek. 

Hushed breaths and shuffling of clothes flutter, and in a blur, Jiyan had pulled himself ever closer, sitting at their side and ever so carefully drawing them to his chest. His movements are slow and calculated even in the face of such strong emotion, too fearful to hurt them. 

He lets them rest their face into the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering closed as they both simply hold onto one another, and it was in that moment he felt them squeeze him back, full of blooming life and energy. His fingertips itched for a stronger embrace but he controlled himself. 

“I love you..” he repeated, even more quiet and directly beside their ear. “Please.. listen to me.. I only wish to keep you safe.. alive most of all.. Understand me..” They nod their head against him, their fingers clawing at his back with a little more strength, holding on as if he was a ghost ready to vanish.  “You’re my candlelight leading me through the darkness.. I can’t do it without you..”

“Oh, Jiyan..” They crack their voice over his name, eyes seeing a mosaic of colors through tears ready to be shed. “I only wish to help you.. Under all this armor and uniform, I can see you struggling too.. How can I not become a little desperate when I see all my other attempts to help you have failed?” They sigh, their breath tickling the skin underneath this chin and he shudders to think of this mutual tug-of-war. They can’t win, neither can. 

“You leave my struggles to me.. I do not withhold them for no reason, but I see that has done me, us, more harm than good..” He says but fails to make another sentence, knowing he’d rather not burden them with his own worries, and he’d much rather hear of their own. 

“Just.. promise me this” he begins, pulling away and making them face to face. “You will not jump to take any more blows for me, in no amounts at all. I’m the one that should guard you, and not the other way around” He is firm in his case, and even if (Y/n) had the strength to argue, they wouldn’t. This was final.

Closing your eyes and giving a little bow of their head, they profess their agreement to his words without a word of their own. And sinking back into his embrace felt like sinking into a bed of feathers, soft, warm and welcoming. “Fine..”

“We’ll talk more about this once you’ve healed..” Jiyan muttered, his lips ghosting their brow and feeling them nod against him again. His hand rubs up and down their back, and his lips land on their cheek, lingering there in a gentle expression of his love that knew no bounds.

The flickering light and the sudden silence made his mind wander, and his body began to rock back and forth slowly, hoping to ease you into slumber. He wondered how it would feel to hold them again, when they were healed and not even a scar remained of their injury; how it would feel to kiss their brow and hold their cheek in his palm, to see those lights stare back at him from within their eyes, full of mirth and devoid of pain; he thinks how comforting it would feel to feel you flush against him each morning, holding your warm body close and tucking them under the covers when they shift in their sleep… So many images run through his mind, and he prays he gets to see them materialize in reality. 

For now he was fine with holding them, serving their needs until war reeled its ugly head again, and he had to leave once more. For his people and (Y/n) he’d grow great miles to achieve peace, even if it meant losing his own peace. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[gallaghersgal]

Smoke & Mirrors || Lip Gallagher

chapter one of BORDERLINE.

pairing: lip gallagher x fem!reader (nickname: MK)

warnings & tags: the start of a SLOWburn. idiots with tension. mature for mentions of violence, smoking, swearing, canon typical dialogue and whatnot. y'all've seen the show!

chapter summary: lip gallagher has been your best friend since before you could remember. he's the smartest person you know, so it astounds you how someone like him can be oh so stupid. you're committed to investing in his future, even if he isn't. you won't let your best friend end up stuck on the southside.

a/n: ummmm hi!! wrote basically this whole thing in the last 24hrs. it's unedited and tbh if i look at it for one more second im gonna explode!! enjoy <33

wc: 2.9k

The crisp October air sends a chill down your spine as you usher your younger sister Caroline out the door for school. She groans and rolls her eyes when you grab her by the handle of her backpack, pulling her back to adjust her scarf. At a mere thirteen years old she already carries the same attitude you did at sixteen. “Whatever you’re gonna say, I don’t wanna hear it. You were just sick, dad’ll have my head on a platter if I don’t make you bundle up.”

She stomps her foot, a stupid, childish action that has you mentally swearing to never have kids of your own. Helping raise this one was enough as it is. “It’s not even-” she starts, but you cut her off.

“I said I don’t wanna hear it. Wear your fucking scarf or I’m telling mom you make that tutor kid do your math homework.” You shove her head gently after securing the scarf around her neck and let her stomp down the stairs. “Don’t be a brat.”

She doesn’t answer, instead starting down the street towards the bus stop. Cigarette smoke wafts over the morning air from the Gallagher house. You turn to see Lip on the front stoop, blood shining on his brow as he smokes. You feel a twist in your gut. What did he get himself into this time, you think. The repetitive motion of locking the door comes like second nature and you spend the thirty odd seconds it takes worrying about the boy across the street.

When you turn towards the Gallagher house Caroline is already ahead of you, not waiting until she passes the chain-link fence to call out, “what happened to your face?”

You catch up in time to hear him scoff, “good morning to you too, Kit-Kat,” pulling out her childhood nickname, the one she still hates, that he gave to her when she was barely four. “‘S nothing. Battle scars an’ shit.”

“What the fuck kinda battle did’ya get yourself into?” you ask, leaning down to take his chin between your thumb and forefinger. The cut isn’t too bad, a lot of blood for a relatively small abrasion, but the skin around his eye is already blossoming a dark bruise. Lip stares at you as if to say ‘not in front of the kid,’ and you nod, fishing a five dollar bill out of your pocket. You were saving it for work, but Caroline’s silence is worth more. She raises an eyebrow, to which you snap, “just don’t tell mom, ‘kay? And don’t skip just ‘cause I'm skipping.”

Caroline turns to leave and you extend a hand to Lip, pulling him to stand. Eager fingers reach for his burnt-down cig when he goes to drop it, taking the final hit for yourself before stubbing it out on the sidewalk. “Greedy. Gotta buy y’own pack,” he remarks with a smirk. All it takes is a second to get back across the stress, and once you’re inside he unwraps the scarf from his neck. 

Your eyes catch on his bruised knuckles and you tilt your head to the side with a silent question, you gonna tell me what happened? He sighs, hearing you loud and clear despite not speaking a single word. “Got into it with Frank. He was givin’ Ian shit for no fuckin’ reason.”

“Mm,” you nod, and catch his hand after he runs it nervously through his curls. The bruises there aren’t as bad as the one on his eye, Frank must’ve only gotten one good, drunken swing in. No cuts either, which was good. For all his tough guy exterior, Lip Gallagher couldn’t stand the sting of peroxide. The less you need the better, you think, and a grin plays at your lips when you glance up at him, holding his injured hand up. “Think y’can roll a joint with these?”

His laugh is like music to your ears, revelling in the first grin you’ve seen from him this morning. “Yeah, yeah I can do that, y’wanna jus’ skip the whole day? We could catch a movie ‘r somethin’,” he suggests, following you upstairs to your room.

You shake your head, opening the door to your room for him. “Can't. Calc test in third period. Sit down, ‘m gonna get the first aid kit.” While you get the kit from the shelf in your closet you hear him open your desk drawer, pulling out the grinder and weed jar you keep hidden at the back.

“You got a shirt or somethin’ I could change into? This one smells like Frank’s fuckin’ booze,” Lip scoffs. He shrugs the tee over his head and lights another cigarette, his eyes following your every move with that same boyish twinkle you’d grown fond of over the years. It was always good to remember things weren’t getting to him, not too bad. 

You cast a glare in his direction, silently scolding him, ‘you know better, let me open the window,’ but he only grins in response. Pale morning light illuminates the room when you pull back your blackout curtains and crack the window. The city is still quiet–or, as quiet as it gets in Chicago–and the sounds of gentle wind and birdsong fall softly on your ears.

You settle at his side, first aid kit in one hand and a gray and black sweater of his in the other. Curious fingers reach for a small cut on his shoulder. “What’s this one from?” You trace the gash. It isn’t deep either, but it’ll need to be cleaned so it doesn’t get infected.

“It’s, uh, ’s nothin,” he brushes you off, to which you shoot him a glare. That sets him straight. In a low mumble he simply states, “beer bottle.”

Rage seethes inside you, your jaw tensing as you wet a cotton ball with peroxide. You keep any comments to yourself, not sure how LIp will react. You’re aware of his more than complicated familial relationships–you’d grown up with thim, seeing Frank’s drinking get worse, and the aftermath of Monica leaving–but if there was one constant with the Gallagher kids, it was family first, above everything. You had your opinions of Frank, and you knew Lip shared your distaste more than anything, but that didn’t take away the sensitive nature of the topic. So, you stay quiet, dabbing at the wound with a gentle hand. The sting draws a sharp hiss from him, and it’s then that you realize how flushed he is, his cheeks, neck and chest are a soft pink color. Graciously, you pretend not to notice, so as not to embarrass him further.

When the cut is cleaned and covered with a bandage Lip takes his sweater, pulling it over his head. It leaves his hair mussed and he smoothes a hand through his curls while you tilt his chin up, inspecting the cut on his brow. Blue eyes stare up at you with a vulnerability you’re not used to seeing from the boy you grew up with. At least you know he’s comfortable with you. That’s all.

Comfortable. Friendly. Nothing more. The same as it’s always been.

The way it’s meant to be.

“Quit starin’, get me fixed up so we can smoke this,” Lip grumbles, gesturing towards the rolling tray in his lap. You laugh at that, heart quickening in your chest. Tensions between the two of you had been thick as of late, but underneath it all things remained the same.

“Glad to know you’ve got your priorities straight,” you snort, cleaning up the second wound with peroxide. He takes it better this time, more prepared for the sting, but you still catch the way a few pained tears brim in his bright eyes. 

Soft, parted lips rest under your fingers as you clean the final abrasion. The bruising is the worst here, deep purple hues present across his mouth and down to his chin. He finishes rolling as you’re wiping at the blood that pooled below his lip, a deep red trail spilling down his chin. Your delicate motions are interrupted by Lip bringing the joint up to seal it, licking along the edge of the rolling paper. 

“‘M almost finished, be patient,” you murmur, focused on keeping the disinfectant out of his mouth. A moment later you pull back, swiping vaseline over the split before wiping the excess on his jeans. Payback for interrupting your tending to his wounds. “There. All patched up. Say ‘thank you nurse,’” you tease with a grin.

He’s already flicking the lighter on, holding the flame against the end of the joint to take the first hit for himself. You busy yourself with cleaning up the first aid supplies until he passes it off to you. Thick, earthy smelling smoke flows from his parted mouth, which lifts into a mischievous grin as he hands you the joint. “My lip’s busted up pretty fuckin’ bad. Think y’could kiss it better?”

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at his blunt proposal. “Shut up,” you retort with a sharp laugh, before you can even consider it.

Lip throws on an exaggerated frown, “oh, c’mon MK. You know it’d be so fucking hot- ow!” He flinches, chest shaking with laughter as you throw your remote at him. “Okay! Okay, I know I know. You’re not one of my g-”

“Little ghetto girlfriends,” you tease, repeating the drunken dig an alibi patron had once thrown at Lip. 

“Exactly.”

You shake your head, laughing at him for a moment. “You’re never getting in my pants Gallagher. I’ve known you since we were three. It’s wrong,” you lie. Lip is your best friend, the same role he���s filled your entire life, side by side since the two of you were in diapers. But your rejection stems from something deeper than that.

Lip Gallagher is inconsistent. You can’t exactly call him unfaithful if he never truly commits to one girl, but he’s not one for relationships. He’s flighty. He runs from affection. More often than not he buries his true feelings under snark and insults, weed, booze, and–when all else fails–aggression. That doesn’t mean you didn’t love him, it doesn’t mean you had no feelings for him, it just gives you reason to brush off his advances. For now, it can remain a little game between the two of you.

Months ago, when these unwanted feelings began to blossom in your chest, you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t be just another girl he messed around with. You aren’t willing to let him mess this thing up for the both of you.

Eager to change the subject you move to your desk, pulling out an informational packet from MIT. Before you can get a word out Lip is shaking his head, casting a skeptical glare in your direction. “Hey, come on. I just want you to apply.” You lean to hand the packet over but he reaches for the joint instead, which you pull away quickly.

“No you come on, why would I apply to MIT, seriously,” he shoots back, refusing to take the folder from your hand. He settles more comfortably in your bed, laying back against the pillows and staring up at the ceiling instead of meeting your eyes. “Bunch ‘f ivy league reject pricks ridin’ on daddy’s money. You’re lucky I’m even applying to schools in town.” Greedy hands reach forward for the joint again and you yield with a sigh, passing it over. As an afterthought, you toss the packet to him as well.

“Just consider it, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll think about it,” he says. You don’t need anything but the way he avoids your eyes to know it’s a lie. 

You purse your lips, throwing an icy stare his way. Lip Gallagher may be your best friend, but you’re not going to take any of his shit. “Have you even got any applications in?”

The question seems to take him by surprise, tendrils of smoke curling from the corner of his parted lips. “I’ve got a few,” another lie.

“Really? What schools,” you question, head tilted to the side with a knowing look. “Don’t lie to me, I know you better than anyone. I can tell.”

He laughs at that, shaking his head in disbelief. “Fine, you got me. I haven’t applied anywhere yet.” The end of the joint has a good stretch of ash, which he’s trying to keep precariously attached while he takes another hit. 

“Scoot,” you mumble, grabbing your own binder of college information packets. He stretches one arm back towards your desk to snag your heart shaped ashtray and knocks the ash off, then lays the tray in the space between your bodies. You settle in beside him, your knees propped comfortably over the throw pillow that always ended up in the middle of your bed. One hand takes the joint and the other opens your binder. 

Pages upon pages of information, campus maps, scholarship pamphlets, and your hand written tuition calculations make Lip go a little cross eyed as you flip towards a page with a yellow tab. “Okay. Here, look,” you point at the information you’d circled, reading Engineering B.S., training the Innovators of Tomorrow. “UI Urbana-Champaign. Great engineering program–” you flip the page over “–and scholarships for kids from underserved communities.”

You settle the joint between your lips, flipping through a few more pages. After a deep inhale you use it to gesture towards the page. “Or UChicago, that way you’d be close to home. They’ve got this thing called inner city promise. Smart kids, like you, from certain high schools with certain academic records and test scores can get full rides.” You run a finger down the short list, stopping at a familiar name and tapping it. “See? Lincoln Grove High School. You’d qualify, Lip.”

“‘M not some fuckin’ charity case,” he grumbles, snatching the burnt-down joint from your hand. “You’re a pain in my ass, y’know that?”

“Oh I’m a pain?” you snap, turning on your side to glare at him. “For what, believing in you? For not taking any of your self-deprecating, avoidant bullshit?”

He shrugs then, and the action is almost shy. He’s embarrassed. You have this innate ability to see him, the way no one else does. You scare yourself with it sometimes. “Just don’t know why you care so much,” he mumbles.

The sigh that leaves you is a deep, tired one. Convincing him of these things has always been difficult. For as smart as he is, Lip can be so infuriatingly stupid. “You’re smart, Lip. You’ve always been smart. I dunno what I would do if I went off to college and you stayed here. In this shithole.”

He doesn’t laugh the way you expect him to. He doesn’t brush it off. He just stares.

“We made a pact, did you forget?” you continue. He shakes his head silently, the far off look in his eyes letting you know he’s remembering that day. 

The day the two of you spent drinking by the pool. Making promises to each other. You’d said you would make it out, and you would do it together. You’d made Lip promise you that he’d give it a try, and stupidly you believed him. Or was it stupid? You’re not ready to give up yet. 

“I don’t want to do it without you,” you admit to him.

Lip looks at you, his blue eyes softening. “Do what without me?” You shake your head, scooting closer to rest your head on his shoulder. He stubs out the joint and wraps an arm around your shoulders. Friendly, comfortable affection. The kind you were used to. “C’mon MK, spit it out.”

“Any of it,” you return. “Don’t think I could get through another four years of school if you’re not doing it with me.”

“Yeah? What if we’re at different schools, dumbass,” he retorts, but his palm soothes across your arm, a contrast to his words. “You gonna follow me to MIT, since y’want me to go so bad?”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in your chest, turning to look up at him with a grin playing at your lips. He got what he wanted. He made you laugh. “I’ll call you every night.”

“Every night huh?” he says with a smirk. “Cockblocking me from a thousand miles away is just like you, isn’t it.”

You shove him playfully, sitting up to move the ashtray off your bed. The MIT packet lays somewhere at the foot of the bed and you search through the pillows to find it. Instead of handing it to Lip, you just tuck it into his backpack, handing the bag to him after. “Well yeah, can’t have you getting distracted by the chess team girls,” you joke back. 

He lays there in your bed, looking up at you with that stupid grin of his. All bared teeth and mischief, the same one you’d seen all those years ago. You stay silent for a moment longer before you stand, holding out a hand to pull him up. 

“You sure we can’t just skip?”

“No, ‘ve got a test, remember? Gotta keep my grades up if ‘m gonna follow you all the way to MIT,” you say, and shakes his head with a laugh. Maybe he’s coming around to the idea. “Come on, I’ll drive us.”

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[coralinnii]

Is it alright if I request Ruggie, Deuce, Trey and Cater helping fem!reader with her period?

‧₊˚✧ To share our joys and abdominal pain ‧₊˚✧

↳ Helping fem!reader going through periods

feat: Ruggie ❋ Deuce ❋ Trey ❋ Cater  genre: fluff, humor note: no pronouns were used for reader (I just ended up not using any), symptoms of periods vary in stories to match the reality of different experiences in real life,

Fun fact, some of the scenarios in this post were inspired by real life experiences between me and my male friends. I missed those idiots, but now they’re somewhat smarter now. Me and my friends called it “the shining” cuz of the famous elevator scene xD

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Not gonna lie, he might be a little afraid of you whenever the time of the month comes around. 

Coming from a nation where women are revered as strong and aggressive as well as coming from a woman-dominated culture, Ruggie had learned an important lesson in not pissing anyone off when their body is going through what could be described as hell, blood included. 

Whether your symptoms are more tolerable or excruciating, it was still a surprise to suddenly see your nervous boyfriend carrying a gift basket with essentials like a peace offering of sorts. Appreciative, but a surprise nonetheless. 

It was also a surprise to see that Ruggie had built a little fort for you filled with fluffy blankets and pillows. Ruggie can’t imagine how painful cramps can get but if you need to curl yourself, he rather you have somewhere comfy and warm to do so. 

No one tell him he just essentially built a nest for his partner. He already knows.

Once you enter his nest fort, you’ll never leave. Not because you can’t but rather you never needed to. Anything you needed or had a craving for, the observant hyena caught on and was quick to make your wishes come true. 

Under his fears, he watches over you in worried awe as you brave through your pain the best you can. He always had respect for anyone who has to go through the day in so much pain but when you smiled at him so sweetly as you thanked him for bringing you some painkillers, his heart bleeds.

Whether he has to run 10 miles to get you something with his money or just to rub small circles on your stomach to ease the cramps, he’s willing to do any work to make you a little better.

"You hungry? I can whip up something good in the kitchen if you're hankerin' for something sweet. Leona'll understand me goin' missing for a while. Afterall, I gotta stay when my babe needs me. Shyeheehee~"

He was panicking so much, it’s almost comical. 

This lovable dummy won’t know what’s going on with you and simply you were sick or unhappy with him given how easily irritated and queasy you were throughout the first day. It was until you flat out told him that he finally put two and two together. 

“oh…Oh…OH SHI-!”

He wants to help so much but the former delinquent has no clue on anything regarding the female anatomy. He tried looking up some helpful advice but unfortunately he only got more confused because it’s the fricking internet. 

“Deuce, what are you doing?” 

“Protecting you. I read that bears and sharks can smell you and they’ll attack you!”

Thankfully, a call with his mom sent him in a better direction. The embarrassing flush of red of his cheeks was a cute contrast to his blue hair and eyes.

With guidance and some trial-and-error, Deuce was trying his darndest in helping you throughout these hellish days. Even if you’re the type to rather handle things yourself, it was nice to have someone by your side even if you get more irritable than usual. 

Like when a particularly bad wave of cramps suddenly hit you in the middle of the day.

The excruciating twisting and stabbing feeling in your abdomen brought you close to tears as you gritted your teeth to bear the pain. With swirling feelings of nausea and anger clouding your senses, your fight-or-flight senses kicked in as you growled out for people not to touch you in such a sensitive state. 

Almost everyone cowered at your seething words, except for Deuce. Instead, he wordlessly scooped you up in his arms and quickly made his way to the infirmary, only opening his mouth to apologize as you punched and yelled at him while in pain. 

It wasn’t until he finally laid you down onto the comforting bed of the infirmary that you apologized for your harsh behaviour, but the blue-haired freshman only grinned at you, fist to his chest like a show of confidence. 

“I may be an idiot, but I’m pretty strong and can take a punch. I’m gonna be right here if you ever need anything.”

One of the more level-headed students on campus, he wasn’t too panicked when you told him when your monthly visitor came around. 

Being someone with a younger sister, Trey at least has some basic understanding of what could happen during this time.

Since it shouldn’t be anyone’s business but your own, he kept your predicament discrete for your privacy. If anyone in Heartslabyul did take notice and made any demeaning comments about it, they had a sudden flux of kitchen clean up duty because “since they happen to be so free to talk about someone else’s pain, they can do some good around the dorm.” 

He would take over your Grim duties during the first few hellish days, keeping your rambunctious dormmate distracted when he noticed that you’re not quite in the best mind or body to watch over him.

If you don’t specifically tell him though, he may go a little overboard with taking care of you. Trey is the type to be over prepared with everything and anything that involves you. Of course, he’ll bake you some of your favourite treats but he would also refill your hot bottle, remind you constantly to stay hydrated, and gently force you to lay down if you get migraines.  

Trey is a sweetheart through and through, ready to help with anything if it would turn your pain from a 100 to even a 99. Even if all you ask is for him to caress your head as you rest before he leaves, he’s sure he could probably talk his way out of his vice housewarden duties for the day, just to stay with you through it all.

“Are you awake? You should have something sweet to eat to ease the cramps. Ha ha, don’t be shy. What would you like me to make?"

None of this is new to him. He grew up with two older sisters for Seven’s sake, he understands and sees the sh*t the body goes through every month. He could watch you wreck an entire room or cry for hours on end and just go “hmm, valid.” 

He’ll still act like his typical fun and flirty self. Even when he had a feeling you were on your period, he doesn’t pry or hint his suspicion unless you told him yourself. He knew it wasn’t his place to comment on anything. 

If you do tell him, he will try his best to make you feel the best through this painful ride of hormones. He just doesn’t wanna make you feel like you’re getting unwanted attention during all of this.

The two of you would have sleepovers whenever you feel too tired or if your body feels too sore to move. If you’re prone to bad breakouts during periods and feeling unattractive, Cater would dispel your worries by making you feel so beautiful, leaving sweet kisses on your face as he’s pampering your aching body. 

Despite what people may think of his attention-seeking tendencies, Cater’s very intuitive and works to make you feel good throughout the monthly changes. Never is he the type to make you feel bad or burdensome for your unpredictable needs and aches. 

For you, the outgoing junior could spend the day away chatting about anything and everything just to distract you from the mood swings. If you feel too tired to talk, Cater would happily lend you his shoulder to rest on while the two of you bundle together under a warm blanket and watch cute animal videos on his phone.

“Don’t worry, your Cay-Cay is here for you, cutie~! Just relax and take care of your totes fab self, ‘kay?