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kissforyouu · 1 year ago

Text

like that / jjk

you're spending time with yourself until you get a message from you boyfriend to...what...bend over?

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : established relationship , fluff , smut

warnings : sexual content , sort of softdom!jk , use of toys , he's pussy whippppeeddd , lots of clit stimulation , he's literally playing w her yk , squirting , fingering , anal play , he's so careful w her kinda , bit of dirty talking , cute aftercare

a/n : NOO IDEAAAA WHAT I JS WROTTEEEE. hope u like it tho :D

unedited.

that's my shit, that's my wave ~

do it like that and i'll repeat ~

don't be scared, i ain't afraid ~

swaying your hips from side to side, you hum to the lyrics and melody of the song as you cleaned the living room. you really enjoyed cleaning, sort of, you liked what the outcome made you feel like. satisfied.

you know what or who else made you satisfied? your boyfriend. i mean, as in, he always made sure you felt satisfied with your relationship. sexually and romantically.

you smile, letting out a small yawn as you think of the cute flowers he got you a couple days ago. there was no special occasion and you were confused at first when he handed them over to you.

"eh, what's this about?"

you tilt your head to the side, biting both your cheeks from the inside. your boyfriend hums, pressing a kiss onto the crown of your head.

"they reminded me of you, so i bought them."

your heart flutters, cheeks heating up as you let out the girliest giggle ever.

"thank you, kook."

you tip toe upwards to press a small peck onto your boyfriend's cheek which he gladly accepted with a bright smile. you were still so shy, even though you've known jungkook for an year before dating, still, this whole relationship thing was new to you. you've been dating for about 6 months now, and it's been the best 6 months of your life so far! he loves you so much, and he shows it.

giggling at the memory, you crouch down to collect the dirt into the dustbin. as you occupy yourself with more cleaning, you suddenly hear the notifications ring on your phone. you walk towards the table where the phone was on, tugging onto each of your gloves to take them off.

you hold your phone in your hand, opening the notification from jungkook.

bab— WHAT the fuck?!

kook💘 : home in 5, be in the bed naked

ass up

what? huh? you turn off your screen, awkwardly looking around although there's not a single soul at home. for now. your cheeks were flushed in a deep shade of pink, eyes blinking repeatedly. that was always a habit of yours which jungkook found adorable all the time. whenever you were nervous, shy, embarrassed, you would blink your lashes repeatedly while looking away. cute, he'd mention.

in addition to the flushed face and blinking eyes, you keep away your broom and apron and walk to your bedroom with a wet patch forming on your panties.

you slowly take your sweats off, then your lose crop top. staring at yourself in the mirror, you reach down to pull your panties down your ankles.

since you've only been together for 6 months, your sexual experiences with him were limited — or just any sexual experiences in general. you were a virgin before you met jungkook. although you've had the sex talk about your preferences, limits and such, you never put it into action. yet.

maybe now is the time? you don't really know. jungkook was always unpredictable, you never know what he's got under his sleeve.

you remove your hair tie to brush your hair a bit to make it look nicer. you make sure to also apply some lotion to moisturize your body a bit more, some perfume and deodorant just in case you smell bad. i don't know, uh—you thought. once you're confident you smell good enough, you open the door a bit to give a little sneak peak of inside the room. giggling to yourself, you tip toe your way onto the bed, laying yourself over the soft white sheets.

to be honest, the sheets made you feel hornier. the feeling of your already hardened nipples brushing against the soft material made you wanna touch yourself then and there. you whimper, laying your chin on the pillow you placed under your head.

you were laying on your stomach, naked, waiting for your boyfriend.

he should be here any moment, you think.

a minute or two passes by. your legs were up in the air, tangled, as you hum to some random song.

"i told you to have your ass up, yeah? what's this?" a soft voice rings in your ears following with a light tap landing on your ass cheek.

you squeel, turning around to face your boyfriend.

"jungkook!"

"someone's excited..." the smirk on his face never leaving, his eyes scan down your body, eyeing your breasts down to your ass.

"mm, pretty baby" his words leave in a form of a whisper, thumb caressing your chin tenderly. you can't help but crack a small smile. Jungkook glides his hand over your shoulder blade, down your back—soothingly— and stopping right above your ass. ugh, you wanted him to touch you there the most.

jungkook lands a soft kiss on the top of your head as he got up. he runs his fingers through his hair, ruffling it after.

"wait for me while i shower?"

what.

"kook—"

"good girl. i'll come to you in a few minutes." jungkook leaves to the bathroom with a snicker, giving you side glances while smirking. it was obvious he was purposely trying to tease you, take his time and make you desperate. he's succeeding. because the mess between your legs just continued to grow.

you had your legs pressed tightly against eachother, clit throbbing as you tried to ignore the ache.

jungkook. that asshole.

you groan, laying sideways on the bed, staring at your nails trying to kill time.

about 10 minutes pass by, jungkook finally enters the room wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white shirt.

"look at you, laying there all pretty waiting for me to ruin you." the tone of his voice is cocky, he sits next to you, his presence radiating confidence.

your toes curl the moment he brushes a few strands out your face, tucking them behind your ear.

"pretty." jungkook scrunches his nose up, his eyes squinted as he presses a small peck on top of your nose.

"okay, ass up now." it's as if someone sent an electric shock down your body, you're suddenly in alert and immediately raising your ass up, your knees keeping your body balanced.

jungkook hums, getting up (AGAIN.) walking to your shared closet. wait, closet, shit—

your boyfriend walks out with a pink vibrator and a dildo he had bought earlier. shit, you remember now—

"do you have anything in mind you want to try?" jungkook hums, stretching his arm out to wrap it around your waist.

you sleepily nod, batting your eyelashes with a shy smile.

"care to tell me?"

"no." your voice is small and delicate, almost inaudible for jungkook to hear. but he hears it, giggling in return as a big smack lands on your ass cheek. you stay silent, snuggling more into the pillow.

"i want to know." he asks—no, more like, demands.

you have flashbacks of the conversation you had with him a week, where you ended up telling him that you were open to the idea of using toys after he started suggesting things to try out because you just wouldn't tell him what you wanted. too shy. but you did want to tryout toys.

"like what you see?" he motions his head towards the little 'presents' he's holding. you roll your eyes, huffing at his face.

"ah, ah, up." he signals at your ass as if he hasn't been leaving you needy everytime you got ready.

you pout, still obeying his words as you push your ass up, hoping that this time he would touch you instead of walking off to do something else. this is something jungkook did, he liked to tease you. a lot.

"my good girl, always listening to me." you feel him pat your hair and the mattress dip, indicating that he was sitting behind you.

you feel your mess grow bigger as you wait eagerly for him to lay his hands on you.

...mm, finally! your breath hitches the moment jungkook's middle finger touches your puffy clit. he runs his finger up and down your gaping hole, not adding much pressure but making sure he's still lightly touching you. you whimper at the feeling as jungkook repeats his action a few more times.

you feel his fingers creeping over your clit to reach your crotch as he gently strokes you there. pressing his index finger onto the base, he rubs your crotch in circles, right above your clit.

"please, please, go a little more down and touch me there...!" jungkook cracks up a scoff, not responding to you with words but actions as he starts to press kisses onto the insides of your thighs. his soft plump lips leave delicate, soft kisses on your thighs, trailing up to your ass cheeks.

once he reaches them, his index finger switches positions from being on top of your crotch to your throbbing clit that's practically begging to get touched. he doesn't lay a finger on the very evident wetness between your puffy lips but to your clit as he begins to rub slow sensual circles right there. he makes sure to add the right pressure to press onto your clit, not too soft but harder than usual, then circling it.

all you did was whimper, letting jungkook do his own thing. you feel jungkook's kisses slowly reach down your ass cheek, then kissing in between your thighs, right next to your drenched pretty lips. he continues to leave small kisses around your quivering pussy, enjoying the sight of your pathetic little hole clench around nothing.

all this soft stimulation was enough to make you relax and fall asleep. you yawn even, that especially catching jungkook's attention.

"not gonna sleep, are you? feels too good and i haven't even started yet, hm?" jungkook flicks his fingers against your head.

you whimper, shaking your head.

"no, please don't stop." your voice was muffled due to your lips being pressed against the pillow.

he stops for a moment, then two of his fingers dive straight in between your folds, coating them with your juices. jungkook drags his fingers back to his mouth, tongue licking his fingers clean. he hums in satisfaction;

"fuckin' delicious. so sweet. never gonna get tired of you." he licks his fingers again.

jungkook delivers a slap to your asscheek, gripping the flesh after to pull on it. he fondles with your ass, taking his time to appreciate your lower body. you're just a whimpering little mess for him, that's it.

you feel your body suddenly jolt up, feeling his palm lay flat on your pussy, rubbing it harshly. jungkook circles his whole palm on your cunt, middle finger pressing tightly onto your clit. you moan in a low tone, back arching for him instinctively.

he continues to rub you while you release a series of hums. your dripping arousal, now smeared all over jungkook's palm, created a wet slippery noise.

"a-ah, gguk..."

"hm?"

jungkook pulls his hand away to slap your pussy twice, the wet smacks echoing through the room. he then grips onto your thighs, pulling them back to have you laying on your back suddenly.

you look at him, confused, but also a bit annoyed by the loss of friction on your pussy. jungkook grabs your face and holds it tight, both of you not giving a single fuck about the fact that his hand was drenched in your arousal.

he moves your face to your left, then to your right, then proceeds to wipe your own arousal on your cheeks. that action alone had your cheeks burn in the colour red and pussy clenching again. jungkook's smirk never falling off of his face, he also wipes his palm on the side of your neck.

silence.

but clicking his tongue in his mouth, jungkook's hands touch your thighs, rubbing up and down the smooth skin. slowly, he spreads your legs further until there was full access to your pussy without any problem.

you can see him bite his lower lip, eyes glued to your clit while his other hand grabs the little vibrator he had bought you earlier.

okay, but, nooooooo.

"kook, need y-your cock instead!" you whine, "please" ; barely a whisper.

desperate.

"mhm? this what you want?" His hands reaches to grab his fully erect cock through his sweatpants. there was a very evident tent in his sweats.

"yes, yes, please!"

"listen to me well and you'll get it, hm?" he reassures you, hand caressing your hair.

you gulp, nodding. jungkook turns on the pink vibrator on medium intensity, then angling it on your clit.

your hips immediately buck up slightly, making you gulp down your saliva. the vibrations weren't too intense, but not too less either. there was a light buzz heard in the room, mixed with your soft pants.

the smug look on jungkook's face never came off as he tightly presses the vibrator onto your clit, making you result in jolting up again. not only that, he also has the audacity to increase the volume to its max intensity. immediately, your hips started shaking, thrusting upwards as well. your moans were a mess, mixed with whining and small cries here and there.

"shh, it's okay, pretty girl." he tries to soothe you down with his hand caressing your thighs.

"ah! ah! gguk, p-please, mm!" you fist the bedsheets real hard.

"yes, sweetheart? how does it feel? feels good?" jungkook hums, never stopping the soothing rubs on your thighs.

"ah, ah, n-nngh, please, please, please, gonna cum!" your body was going crazy. body shaking with hips trusting upwards with intensity. jungkook had to press your legs down to the mattress, fingers gripping tightly onto your thighs.

"jungkook! f—fuck! ah, nnh, mm, gh— cumming!" your whole body shudders, shaking as your white liquid gushes out.

jungkook immediately turns the vibrator off, fingers reaching to gently stroke your pussy up and down to soothe you.

you were a panting mess.

"sensitive baby, came from just that. didn't even start yet. wanted to cum so bad." he gently blows on your swollen bud, then pressing a light kiss on it after.

you whine louder, hands squeezing your breasts really hard due to sensitivity.

"think you can take more?" he asks.

immediately, you shake your head from side to side, signalling no. fuck, maybe you could, but hell no.

"come on, baby. you can take a plenty more. it's okay, my love." he starts planting kisses across your shoulder blade, hands caressing your breasts.

you melt into his touch, almost forgetting the little ache in between your legs. jungkook grabs a nipple, twisting it to the side before releasing it.

"need you to get on all fours again, pretty girl."

you groan, lazily picking yourself up again and turning around, body now laying flat on the bed. jungkook wraps his arm around your waist, lifting your ass up. you put pressure on your knees to balance yourself again, your ass up in the air for your boyfriend.

"love this view."

you hum in response. he begins to slap and squeeze you a few times again, kneeding your cheeks as if it were some dough.

jungkook begins to touch your pussy again, fingers circling your clit. your body grinds onto his hand, whimpering. his fingers slither away from your clit, now touching your puffy folds.

"oh, fuck", he caresses your folds, fingers slightly dipping in between as well.

"mine." jungkook kisses the top of your ass cheek.

jungkook gathers your wetness from in between your folds, then dragging those fingers to your hole (read:other hole) to smear it all over.

you audibly gasped in shock.

"kook..." you ask.

"mmh, will you let me?" he presses his thumb onto your hole.

"mm, mm." you hum in approval; hands clutching onto your pillow beneath you.

jungkook grabs the dildo this time, then shoving it right up your pussy. you make a squeaking sound, startled.

he chuckles, "what's so shocking? 'know you like this, baby."

he didn't even give you time to prepare.

"so pretty like this. just a little hole for me to stuff, hm?"

he traces his pointer finger on your agape folds then thrusting the dildo in a little deeper.

"g-gguk!"

he ignores your yelps, turning on the vibrating dildo.

fuck, wait, you didn't know it vibrates— your body is immediately falling to your pillow, full weight on it and your entire body squirming around.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK–"

you clench your hole so many times, the pleasure slightly unbearable. it wasn't a secret that he had put it on max intensity.

"how do you feel?" jungkook reaches your hair, caressing your locs softly while you squirm on the bed.

"p-p-please, mmh! gggood! feels good!" you choke out.

jungkook laughs, kissing the tip of your ear. he leans back to reduce the intensity a bit, now on medium vibrations. you feel your body calm down, but still, squirming around and your pussy a big fat mess.

he spits a fat globe of spit onto his fingers, then spreading it across your tight hole. jungkook moans, thumb rubbing your hole in the form of circles.

"pretty baby." he murmurs.

you're whimpering - music to his ears -, jungkook enters his pointer finger inside you, just a little, but fuck, does it hurt. this is a weird feeling, you've never had anything put inside...there. it's an odd feeling, but you trust jungkook. it's okay.

he pushes it in a bit more, earning a lengthy moan from you.

"so fucking tight. gotta get you to loosen up, hm? yeah?"

"yes, yes, i need to—" you gulp, "loosen up. for you." you were nodding your head frantically, pussy clenching over and over around the vibrator.

this was all fun for jungkook, he loved seeing you so obedient and squirming under him as he toys with the vibrations of the dildo inside you. his pretty little girlfriend. who knew she'd be into this kind of stuff? nobody, exactly. he'll make sure he's first and only person to ever touch you this way, and to love you.

he spits on you again, smearing it all over your hole then pushing his finger in deeper. you had to admit, you kind of enjoyed it. being stuffed on both your holes. as filthy as it sounds.

jungkook begins to slowly thrust his pointer in and out of you, loving the way your falls feel around his finger.

"think you can take two, sweetheart?" he caresses your cheek with his free hand.

you bite your lower lip only to let go with a small bounce, you nod your head.

"words, baby, need to hear you say it." his touch is really soothing.

"yes, two. take t-two..."

jungkook squeeze your ass, then pulling his finger out to replace it with his pointer finger and middle finger. he spits on you again, getting it all over his fingers and your hole, then slowly thrusting it in.

"mmh! hurts! ...a little, ah!"

"'s okay, baby, it's okay." his thumb on the same hand rubs your cheek softly.

jungkook begins to thrust his fingers in and out of you at the same time, maintaining a decent pace, not wanting to hurt you too much.

meanwhile, he also makes sure to increase the intensity of the vibrator. again. fuck, not like hr ever told you, anyway.

"shit— gguk! ggukie, ah! ah!"

your legs start shaking due to the intensity, which results in jungkook having to wrap his arm around your thigh to keep you still.

"it's okay, baby. you're doing so good." he says while pulling his fingers in and out of your puckering hole.

he holds you down to the mattress harshly while your moans are muffled by the pillow, drool gushing out of your lips and making a damp mess in your pillows.

"shit, feels so good—mmh!"

you reach your arm down to grope your breast, flicking your nipple with your finger.

if someone had asked you an year ago what you'd be doing now, you definitely wouldn't have guessed to be on some man whom you call your boyfriend's bed with both your holes stuffed. but oh well. life.

at this point, you don't even feel your legs anymore from this position. but oh, so worth it.

jungkook curls his fingers inside you with a smirk, his other hand suspiciously sneaking around you waist and—

"ooooohhhh, oohhh, ah, ah! fuck, gguk! you're gonna make me cum!"

—rub your swollen little clit in circles. shit, shit, shit. his fingers tug on the little bug, pinching it and pulling it to rub it all over again.

this felt like heaven.

you grind your hips onto his hand, now both your fingers working on your sensitive nipples as your body begins to completely shudder, shaking and squirming.

your pussy grips tightly onto the dildo, clenching over and over again as you yelp out an extended moan.

"kooook!" you moan out afterwards.

"yeah? my baby's gonna cum? gonna cum all over this good for nothing dildo like a little slut?"

your tongue was out, your mind was fucked and you could barely think of any words. there was only one thing you could focus on and that was the stimulation jungkook's giving you and the fucking dildo that's shoved up your pussy. you feel so full, so stuffed that at one point you found it hard to breath even.

so you just nod your head showing agreement and jungkook's fingers dipping deeper into your flesh while you squirm around. that's definitely going to leave a mark.

and without another second being passed, your orgasm comes crashing down to you, your shoulders shrugging and whole body slumps down to your bed.

your legs are shaking, heartbeat increasing, nails gripping the bedsheets as you scream in overstimulation while your boyfriend continues to rub your clit. you're a whining mess, the room filled with your sweet moans and groans.

"please, please, please, please, please!"

you scream, tears at the end of your eyes.

"fuck, you fucking squirted."

that was the second time you've squirted. first time being from jungkook's dick, of course.

he turns off the vibrations, slowly and gently pulling the dildo out of you.

"shit, y/n."

he holds your ass cheeks separate, spreading them to take a closer look at your completely ruined pussy. big mess on the bed too.

"my girl..." he coos.

you're whimpering, body fully exhausted from the whole session you had.

"baby, are you okay? y/n, sweetheart?" suddenly, he's concerned.

"you just fucking ruined my cunt, moron." you cuss out.

jungkook's nose scrunches. he leans down to press a kiss on the tip of your cheek.

"come on, you need to pee." he pats your ass cheek.

"no, too tired." your words are barely audible.

"alright." jungkook hums. for a moment, you think he's sided with you, but no, you squeak once you feel his hands flip you to your back, then two arms enveloping your entire body as he picks you up.

instinctively, your legs wrap around his little waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck.

jungkook takes you inside the bathroom, then placing you on top of the toilet.

"pee. you want me to look away or?" he asks.

you nod your head. jungkook takes that as a sigh to walk out of the bathroom after muttering a "call for me when you're done".

while you pee, you take a moment to take everything in. your boyfriend had just fucked you hard with toys, made you cum and squirt and now you're in his bathroom, taking a piss. you probably looked like a mess right now, also.

once you were done, you also make sure to clean yourself with some tissues.

"kook! done..." you shout, then mumble the last part. your post sex self was always quiet and too fucked up. in addition to that, always feeling confused and lazy. jungkook would happily take care of you instead.

your boyfriend opens the bathroom door and sees you cutely sitting on the toilet, fingers fidgeting with one another.

"cute baby" he snorts.

he parts your hair to the side, fixing it for you before pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. but your attention is paid to only one thing. the big fat dent on his pants and the big wet patch.

"kook, let me..." still drowsy, but you reach your hand to cup his rock hard cock through his sweats.

"mm, no, no, you're tired, sweetheart." he gently pats your hand away, then tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"but you're still hard..." you mumble.

"doesn't matter. i'll handle it myself. besides, i already came." he smirks.

"huh?" you were this close to falling asleep on spot, but your head shoots back up at his words.

"who wouldn't. i felt satisfied from your satisfaction. that's all what matters to me, hm?"

"hmmm..." you hum, nodding your head, eyes threatening to close. your head was leaning against jungkook v line as he caressed your head with a chuckle.

"hey, wait, don't tell me you're asleep?" he asks you, immediately waking you up from your 5 seconds of sleep.

"no! awake! me!" you shout.

"right." his nose scrunches.

jungkook hooks his hands on your armpits, hoisting you up to carry you out of the bathroom. since the bedsheets were ruined and there was no time left to change them, he decides to take the guest room instead. he takes you in there, gently placing his lovely girl on the soft mattress.

he goes back to your room, opening the closet to pull out one of those soft cotton white pajamas you wear. he goes back to the guest room to dress you up in the cute little pajama gown and granny panties.

he leans back, admiring his little cute girlfriend. chucking to himself, jungkook then gets in the shower. he was still hard of course, so he had to take care of himself. afterwards, he wears a comfy pair of grey sweats and heads back to the guest room.

the adorable sight of you sleeping on your stomach and now turned to jungkook's side of the bed with an arm thrown over it as well and lips in the form of a pout.

he chuckles in my mind, a bright smile on his face as he makes his way to the bed. jungkook gently lifts up your arm then slides under it to lay on the bed. he places your arm back, but this time around his waist. he makes sure to pull your comforters over both your bodies to keep you both warm.

you suddenly move on your spot, then snuggling closer to jungkook's chest to seek warmth.

you looked so cute and beautiful like this. fully passed out next to him with a bit of drool on your chin. he happily wipes it away though, then proceeding to press a little kiss on your forehead.

"goodnight. i love you."

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #smut #bts #bts jk #bts smut #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #fluff #jjk fluff #aftercare

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7ndipity · 6 months ago

Text

How They Would Propose

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: Headcanons about how each of the members would propose to their S/o

Warnings: none

A/N: Thank you to the lovely @bethanysnow for this request and for helping me brainstorm ideas! I hope you like it!😘

Masterlist

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Jin:

Jin loves making big gestures, like he literally brought his own confetti to an award show, so he would definitely want to go for a more grand, classically romantic proposal.

Like you would come home one evening to the house filled with heart shaped helium balloons floating around.

Once you make your way through the forest of balloons, you find him waiting for you in the living room or on the balcony, in a suit and tie, surrounded by flowers.

And although he’s so incredibly sure about this, he can’t help but feel nervous, his hands shaking as he pulls out the notecards he prepared.

His speech would be simple, but so full of his love for you and the life you’ve built together, by the time he finishes speaking and drops to one knee, you’re already in tears and saying yes.

Yoongi:

Yoongi would propose in a way that’s very quiet and personable to the two of you, just like everything else in your relationship.

I’ve said this in his dating hcs, but I see him half-jokingly asking you to marry him so often that when he finally does say it seriously, you might not take it as such at first.

It would probably happen either first thing in the morning as you’re having breakfast, or last thing at night as you’re getting ready for bed. Those quiet little moments of domesticity show him how much he want this forever

“I wanna marry you.” “I know, baby.” “No, really. I want to marry you.” You turn around and he’s holding out a ring box to you. “I mean, if you’ll have me?”

Once the initial shock wears off, you half-jokingly demand that he asks you properly, which he does, quickly dropping to one knee. Then you say yes.

Hobi:

Hobi would want to make your proposal as lavish and memorable as possible. Like he loves any opportunity to dote on and spoil you.

Like I see him surprising you with a weekend getaway to somewhere coastal so the two of you could just relax together on the beach for a few days.

But then on the final evening, as you’re watching the sunset together, he turns to you and drops down on one knee.

He has a whole speech prepared, but in the moment, he’s so overcome with emotion that he forgets half of it and basically sums it up with “I cannot imagine my life without you. Will you please marry me?”

He manages to keep it together until you say yes and then he breaks down in tears as he slips the ring on your finger.

Namjoon:

Despite being a man who’s well known for his ability to weave words together into heartbreakingly beautiful lyrics, I think when it comes to his own proposal, he would be surprisingly simple.

He would bring it up after a normal date night as you're walking together through the park or something, waiting till you’ve stopped to admire the view before he decides to speak.

He would start off talking about some study he read that showed how being married can benefit ones health, extend life expectancy, etc. He would then shift to how much you mean to him, how much you’ve changed him for the better, how much he loves you.

“And so,” He pulls out the ring box, sliding it over to you somewhat shyly, almost afraid to meet your eyes. “If you're willing, would you please marry me?”

Of course you immediately say yes.

Jimin:

Jimin would want to plan something more cozy and classic, like a romantic dinner at home or at one of your favorite restaurants.

He would be so nervous, fidgeting around half the evening until you ask him if he’s alright, and then he just spills it all out.

He would have a somewhat short, but sweet speech, going over how much you mean to him, how thankful he is to have you in his life, and how he hopes for the two of you to spend the rest of your lives together.

By the time he finishes speaking, you're both crying, moving to hug each other tightly as you say yes.

After a few moments, you both manage to compose yourselves enough to separate so that he can slip the ring on your finger, before immediately pulling you close again.

Taehyung:

Tae would want to make a grand romantic gesture, similar to Jin, but on a slightly smaller scale, more personalized to the two of you.

He would pick one of your favorite places, asking you to meet him there fro date night instead of him picking you up, which already makes you suspicious that something’s up.

But nothing could quite prepare you for the scene you’re met with as you walk in, candles and your favorite flowers covering every surface, creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere. And in the middle of it all stands Tae, grinning widely at you.

His speech is short, telling you how much he loves you, and promising as he drops to one knee that he will do everything in his power to try and make you as happy in life as you make him.

You can’t even say yes, just nodding as he slips the ring onto your hand.

Jungkook:

I see Jungkook going one of two ways with a proposal; either super elaborate, destination proposal with a beautifully planned out speech, or completely impromptu confession when he just blurts it out

He would want to plan an amazing weekend away together, where he would have a whole scene planned out with the flowers and candles and a speech that he's been writing and rewriting for weeks/months.

But it ends up happening very suddenly but naturally, as you’re getting ready for bed one night and he’s just watching you picking out your clothes and setting your alarm for the next day, and it just slips out. “Marry me, please?”

You whip around in shock, but he’s just staring up at you with so much love and sincerity that you don’t don’t even hesitate to say yes.

He’d be kinda embarrassed afterwards, but neither of you really mind, because it was his true feelings in that moment and that made it all the more special to you.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0o0o0ooo @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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mariasont · 9 months ago

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smut = ✧ clean (ish) = ♡ angst = ✩

this list goes oldest to newest (idk why i did it that way but im too lazy to change it)

fics:

✧ our minds entwined WIP paused!

one shots:

✧ hands, hands and hands: spencer and you compare hands

✧ framed fascination: you wear glasses for the first time

♡ climb you like a tree: you tell spencer you’re going to climb him like a tree… not meaning it the way it comes out

♡ sundress season: spencer helps you out with some research and gets more than he bargained for

✩chloe or sam or sophia or marcus: in which spencer choses the drugs over you

♡ sweater: in which you struggle with your body and spencer helps you

♡ ✩ beyond the grave: spencer fakes his death and comes back into your life like nothing happened

♡ brooding: goth!bimbo!reader wants to sketch spencer but he won't stand still!

♡ arachnophobia: you compare spencer to a spider in an attempt to flirt

♡ i want it in ink: spencer finds your secret tattoo… with his initials

✩ ♡ when the swallows come again: spencer blames you for maeve’s death…or does he

✩ ♡ be so stupid: you make a mistake while on a case nearly getting spencer killed, morgan has some choice words and spencer is ready to beat his ass over it

✧♡ looking after you: you have called off sick for a few days now and spencer has been "looking after you". spencer gets caught red handed when morgan and garcia drop by

♡ fangirl: you're the newest member and you have a slightest obsession with dr. reid and his works.

♡ make a wish: shy!reader gets a little flustered anytime post!prison spencer comes around

♡ thump, thump: in which you and spencer get stuck in a cramped closet together

♡ schoolboy-esque: spencer and hotch spend the day competing for your attention

✩ messy: spencer is determined to get you to let him in as your depression takes a bigger hold than you imagined

♡ where hand lead: spencer discovers just how much you love his hands and is incessant on teasing you

shy!media-liasion!reader

♡ make a wish: shy!reader gets a little flustered anytime post!prison spencer comes around

♡ i aim to please: post!prison spencer thinks shy!reader deserves more compliments

bimbo!receptionist!reader

♡ the receptionist: spencer meets chief cruz’s new receptionist

♡ lip gloss: in which spencer really likes bimbo!receptionist!reader 's sparkly lip gloss

♡ dress code: in which spencer reid doesn't appreciate an agent questioning the length of bimbo!receptionist!reader’s skirt

♡ cause im a sinner: you keep singing the lyrics wrong and spencer has to fight the urge to correct you

♡ tie a tie: bimbo!receptionist!reader asks for spencer’s help with tying a tie

✧ undo you: spencer and bimbo!receptionist!reader having sexy time!

♡ tedium: spencer is not having the best time at the FBI gala, well, until bimbo!receptionist!reader shows up

♡ sticky situations: you decide to pepper spencer's face with kisses in the morning, not realizing he had a big meeting later

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candy-heart-brew · 9 months ago

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I've seen some fans theorize that the lyrics to "Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight" tie into Frank's developing relationship with Eddie, potentially foreshadowing a grisly end for a favorite mailman. The lyrics are incredibly emotional and poor Frank sounds like he's fighting back tears during this entire record, making it feel like there's something more going on under the surface. While it's entirely possible that this is meant to foreshadow Frank and Eddie eventually being separated, I think the song's symbolism could be pointing to a different direction...

I touched a bit on this in a different post but to summarize: the attitude that Frank displays during "Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight" is completely at odds to his reaction to Eddie at the party. During BaBaG he's sad but resigned to fate, he knows that hibernation is inevitable but takes a bit of comfort in the knowledge that it's only temporary and that his loneliness will only last through winter. So, he does his best to power through, keep his personal feelings out of it, and assure his little friends that he'll be alright.

By contrast, his reaction to Eddie's behavior at the party is one of panic and confusion. He doesn't understand what's happening to Eddie or why he's suddenly gone unresponsive, he just knows that he isn't acting like himself at all and he can't accept that. He refuses to leave Eddie alone even after being ignored, continuing to push until he gets a response, at which point he immediately realizes something is wrong and tries to push further, only stopping when Eddie leaves. At this point in the story they don't appear to be especially close but Frank's terrified reaction speaks volumes about his true feelings for Eddie. And if this is how he reacts to him being quieter than usual, I can't imagine that he'd be much calmer or more composed in the event of losing Eddie altogether. IMO, he's far more likely to get angry and demand answers rather than wax poetic. So while "Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight" could potentially foreshadow Eddie's fate, Frank's subdued reaction makes me question that interpretation. I do think there's a deeper meaning to BaBaG, that Frank is singing about something other than bugs, just not Eddie. But then who? Well, as we found out in this last update, bugs are not the only creatures in the neighborhood that hibernate...

Think about it for a moment- Julie is going to be gone for months, leaving Frank all alone without his best friend. Who's going to invite him to games now? Who's going to listen to him about his interests and laugh at his jokes? Who's going to bake gelatin monstrosities with him? Julie is practically his other half so to lose her for months on end must be very difficult for him! He knows that she can't help it and he doesn't blame her but that hardly makes it any easier. All he can really do now is just push that sadness down, wish her goodnight, and wait for her to return.

Under this interpretation, certain lyrics in BaBaG take on a different meaning to me. Lines like "I know it's for the best, I can't keep you," or "I'll be the first to tell you, you just can't stay," could imply an oncoming rift between the two of them. The recent updates have implied that Frank and Julie were written to be a couple and were perceived as such in-universe. We don't yet know how the two of them felt about that but we do know that they were very close to the point of doing basically everything together! But now Frank is falling in love with someone else, someone who may very well come to eclipse Julie in terms of importance to him. No matter how much he loves her, no matter how much they might want to stay together, there are some things you just can't fight and this play-relationship they have can't last forever...

But that's just my interpretation!

#welcome home #frank frankly #eddie dear #franklydear #julie joyful #analysis #don't mind me just desperately clinging onto hope that the gays will live!

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madlyney · 1 month ago

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So This Is Love

Kento Nanami x gn!reader Tw: nothing, just teeth rotting sweetness Wc: 576 words

Everyday Kento comes home from work, the first thing he’d always hear (most of the time) is the sound of your voice as you hum a tune in the kitchen, preparing dinner for you and your husband.

“I’m home,” he announced as he slid his work shoes off, placing them neatly in the shoe rack. Hearing no reply from you, he assumed you didn't hear him from the music through the speakers of your phone. He placed his briefcase on the edge of the couch, loosening his tie in the process as he approached the kitchen.

His lips curved into a small smile as he watched you hum to the melody of the song and glided around the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed as his eyes followed every movement. Everyday, he wonders how he managed to get married to you. Everyday, he just wonders how you both have been together since high school. Everyday, Kento feels as if he had fallen in love with you all over again.

You turned around to get something from the island of the kitchen, only then noticing your husband’s presence. Your smile widens. “You're back! Welcome home,” you said with that cheerful grin of yours that could make Kento's heart melt within seconds.

“Yes, I'm back,” he said, the smile on his face not faltering. He pushed himself off the wall and approached you. “You seem busy in the kitchen. Need any help?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

You shook your head. “I'm nearly done, so it's fine. But if you really want to help out with something, could you set the table for us?”

“Of course.” With a final kiss on either side of your cheeks(face), he let go of your waist and walked over to the drawers where all the cutleries, bowls and plates were kept.

As you both worked together in the kitchen, the next song on your playlist came on. Your ears picked up on the familiar melody on the first beat. “Ken! It’s our favorite song,” you said, grinning from ear to ear.

Kento looks up from the plates he held in his hands. “You're right, it is,” he said with a small smile as he watched you sing the lyrics to the song, using the spatula as a makeshift microphone. He let out an exhale of amusement as he put down the two sets of utensils and plates he was holding onto the table.

As the song reached to the middle of the audio, where just the melody played, he took the spatula out of your hand, placed it on the counter and took your hand into his, his other hand resting above your hip as you both swayed around to the music, and he’d twirl you around occasionally. You were both reminded about your high school days, where you guys would listen to this song every day, sing to it, dance to it. Satoru calls you guys corny, but don't worry, he was probably just jealous of you both–well, who wouldn't be? You and Kento were just so sickeningly adorable.

Everyday, Kento really falls in love with you all over again, just like he is as he twirls you around in the kitchen area. He’s just so in love with you that he’s so glad to put a ring on your finger all those years ago.

Note: he makes me giggle and kick my feet in the air

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lijojo · 1 year ago

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love is in the details.

after years of being married and living together, you two have settled into a little routine. what’s the little moments that make your life special?

genshin characters x reader

brushing each other’s hair in the morning

early in the morning, regardless of whether either of you have to go out or not, you help brush each other’s hair. if you’re in a rush, he’s groggily following you into the kitchen, hairbrush in hand. you’ll be sitting there eating breakfast while he’s standing behind you trying to manage your bedhead.

his touch is gentle, loving as he files through your strands. if you have a specific hair routine in the morning, he’ll do that for you. rubbing your favorite hair oil in his hands, he’ll gingerly comb it through your hair, massaging your scalp in the process.

and you’ll brush through his hair and try to micromanage the little tufts that stick out. when you’re finished, he’ll turn around to give you the softest kiss on the forehead and say “thank you, love.”

when you two know neither of you are going out for the rest of the day, you’ll pull out your collection of flowery clips you saw the other day at the market and tie his hair up in multiple silly little ponytails decorated with butterflies.

even if he doesn’t like it, he’ll never tell you. not when you look so happy, content with making a mini ponytail that made him look akin to a unicorn. instead, he’ll sit still and look pretty, watching through the mirror’s reflection as you clip his hair back with a giggle. his eyes will soften, like you’re the most precious thing.

kaeya, kazuha, diluc, zhongli, baizhu, albedo, alhaitham, xiao

brushing your teeth together

it doesn’t seem like a big thing, but you two make it a point to never brush your teeth without the other. not if you can help it, at least. when one of you gets out of bed before the other, whether it’s because you have something you need to do or you’re making breakfast, the other will quickly follow suit.

when your eyes accidentally meet each other’s in the mirror, he’ll raise his hand to ruffle through your hair. and depending on his mood, he might put you into playful headlock, not letting go until you squeeze the fat at his waist.

sometimes while you’re doing other things, he’ll come from to tug at your wrist, signaling that he needs to brush his teeth after eating something sweet. he won’t say anything, but the two of you have quickly reached a silent understanding.

and if he’s feeling a little bit annoying that day, he’ll press a messy kiss on your cheek. you’ll groan as you clean the toothpaste off your face but he’ll just smile smirk cheekily at you as he tries to dodge your own kisses.

in the midst of your scuffle, if toothpaste lands on your shirt you’ll point at it and laugh together.

some days, when you’re sad, you find it hard to keep up with personal hygiene. there are days where it feels too hard to get out of bed and take care of yourself, but he’s always there to make self-care seem just a bit easier.

childe, thoma, tighnari, scaramouche, kaveh, ayato, gorou, alhaitham

singing songs in the kitchen

when you two are cooking, the two of you will sing together. it’s not some loud thing. if one of you has a song stuck in your head, you’ll hum it in harmony as you fry the eggs.

occasionally, you two will break out in full-on concerts. you’ll pretend that the spatula is your microphone as you preform a grammy-winning duet. as you wait for the pot the boil, you’ll dance as if you’re on stage in front of thousands.

as time passes, you guys end up leaving a notepad and pen somewhere in the corner. while you’re cooking, baking, or simply getting a snack from the fridge, if you have some kind of song/lyric idea you’ll messily scribble it down and be on your merry way.

and so, you two probably have a couple albums worth of silly songs. sometimes you write it together, sometimes you’ll pass by and check to see if he added something new. sometimes the songs are about the new cooking recipe you’re trying out, sometimes it’s a sweet love song.

either way, the two of you are jamming it out in the kitchen. whether the two of you are cutting vegetables or stirring the pot, you two are in harmony.

venti, kaeya, kaveh, kazuha, cyno, childe, itto, thoma

playing little pranks

when you least expect it, he’ll switch your rings. just to see if you’d noticed. he’ll give you at least a couple of hours (at most a day, but that’s only if you’re really busy) to notice. if you do, he just smiles cheekily and switches them back. if you don’t, he’ll pout and ask for a kiss to make up for it.

when you’re feeling overworked and burnt out, he’ll walk into the room with a glass of water and some fruit. he’ll give you a kiss for good luck, nuzzling his nose into the crown of your hair and walk out swiftly as if he was never there.

if you don’t look up fast enough to catch him before he’s out the room, you’ll miss the fact that he’s wearing your bra outside of his shirt and walking as if he was on a runway. when you do, you’re quick to act on it. you sprint out of the room with the biggest grin. by then, he’s heard your footsteps and is already on the run. when you catch him, you pepper him with hundreds of tiny little kisses.

“that’s what you get for taking my bra,” you say in-between giggles.

he wraps his arms around your neck, peppering you with equally as many kisses.

“i don’t think this is a very good punishment. i’m not supposed to like it,” he muses cheekily.

when the two of you’ve calmed down, he’ll give you a final kiss goodbye before you return to work, recharged.

his little shenanigans might be distracting sometimes, but it��s because of him that you’ve learned the importance of stepping back and letting yourself breathe.

venti, childe, kaveh, kaeya, itto, ayato

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0cta9on · 3 months ago

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And We Danced

Length: 1.1k words

Genre: Angst

Nmixx Lily x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Wrote this for a prompt thingy hosted by @mintwithchoco! Inspired by this really pretty song, do give it a listen if you have the chance :])

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

“...and then he just brushes past me and immediately gets on his game!” Lily huffs, pacing around your room. “Like, I get that he’s tired and all that, but at least a ‘Hi’ would be nice!”

A song you don’t recognize blasts from your speaker, fiery and tumultuous to mimic the current emotions of your friend. With how often she comes over to your place to rant about her boyfriend, it’s a wonder how she doesn’t have a consistent playlist.

“What do you think? Am I just overreacting?” she asks, slumping onto your mattress.

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

“Really? Because if I’m being crazy, I need you to tell me.”

“I know when you’re being crazy, but this isn’t one of those times.”

Lily chuckles before scooting next to you and resting her head on your shoulder. You swallow down the thoughts and words that threaten to burst from your chest, potentially ruining this good thing that you have. Things are fine. Calm down.

“What should I do now?” she asks, her words floating through the open air between the transition of songs. The next song brings in slow, melancholic piano chords paired with a heartbreaking story of unrequited love. Lily’s head sinks deeper into your shoulder like the weight of the lyrics is pulling her down and you’re her only means of support.

You should break up with him.

“You should talk to him,” you say, breathing steadily. “You said that this started happening recently, right? Maybe something happened to him and he just hasn’t told you yet. Most guys are stupid and don’t like talking about their feelings and all that mushy stuff.”

“Talk to him. Right,” she sighs. “You make it sound so simple.”

You shrug. “Things are always more difficult than they seem. It really depends on him for this to work out. You’re doing the best you can, and if he can’t see that then… maybe you should—”

Lily’s phone buzzes from across the room, prompting her to jump towards it with the desperation of a lost puppy finding its owner. Her warmth is stripped away from you in an instant, and the impending cold becomes a grim reminder that it was never yours in the first place.

Her expression immediately sours as she checks the notification.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, worried.

“No.” Lily’s shoulders slump as she tosses her phone back on your desk with a resounding thud. “Bae just wants me to get her some ice cream on the way home.”

You fail to stifle a chuckle, earning an icy glare from those perfectly round eyes.

“I feel like I’m going insane.” She throws up her hands in exasperation. “What if I just end it all and jump off a cliff?”

“You definitely shouldn’t do that. How else will Bae get her ice cream?” you quip.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

The last bit of sunlight fades past the edge of your window just as the music dies down to give way to the next song. From the first note, you’re left reeling as memories of thumping heartbeats and unattainable closeness flood your mind like a tsunami. Flashing lights, the linoleum scent of the gym floors, your dad’s tie that your mom made you wear, every single excruciating detail of that night comes crashing down in an instant.

The night you cherish deeply, yet regret the most.

“Oh. My. God!” Lily yanks your arm, nearly pulling it out of its socket from sheer excitement. “Get up!”

“W-what?”

“Do you not remember this song!?”

“I-I, uh…” Of course you remember it. There hasn’t been a day that’s passed where you don’t think of what that damned song entails.

“Sophomore year homecoming! We slow danced to this song together! How could you forget that!?” She pouts at you, and it takes every facial muscle you have not to immediately burst out into the dumbest smile.

Without hesitation, Lily pulls your arms around her waist and intertwines her fingers behind your neck, and suddenly, you forget how to breathe, how to think, how to function like a regular human being.

“I-I think I remember this song,” you stutter, not quite meeting her eyes.

You find yourself being transported back to that sophomore dance as the two of you sway to the beats of the music. Lily rests her head on your chest just as she did back then, and you wonder if she can hear your heartbeat as it races from the proximity. You wonder if she can hear your thoughts, what she would think about how every corner of your mind is occupied by her. You wonder what would’ve happened if you had done something, anything differently that night, if a couple words were the difference between dancing here as lovers or as reminiscing friends.

Say something. This is your only chance. After this, she’ll be gone forever.

Yet, just like that night so many years ago, you stand quietly like a fool, damning yourself to an eternity of forever staying out of her reach.

“That was fun,” Lily giggles as she steps away from you, her fingers lingering in between yours. “I should probably head back though, it’s getting kinda late.”

“Um, yeah, sure.” Regretfully, you let go of her hands and walk her to the front door, trying to not let your mess of emotions reveal itself in your expression.

“Maybe we can hang out again tomorrow! If you’re not busy of course.”

“I’ll have to check my schedule, but yeah, I would like that.” Of course you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow. Even if you did, you’d move Heaven and Earth just to spend another moment with her.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow!” Lily pulls you into a hug like she always does and you fight off every urge screaming at you to keep her close.

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Long after the door shuts behind her, all you can do is stand there, motionless, like life suddenly stops mattering when she’s not around. This is all your fault, really. It shouldn’t be a surprise that guys would line up for an inkling of a chance with her; in fact, you could fill up entire libraries with books describing how perfect Lily is in every single way, forever pondering how a single glance can fill you up with so much joy and sorrow that it threatens to drown you. You had more than a decade head start, you should’ve been the first one in line.

And yet, your own cowardice got in the way.

Again. And again. And again.

That song plays in your head once more, its melody haunting yet comforting. In a perfect world, the two of you would be able to dance all night to a song that never stops.

#nmixx #lily jin morrow #nmixx lily #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #lily x male reader #nmixx lily x male reader #lily x male oc #nmixx lily x male oc #angst #lily angst #nmixx lily angst

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desi2go · 3 months ago

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One photoshoot away from love

pairing: Minho x idol! reader

warnings: fluff

request: So reader is also a kpop idol but she's like only in the industry for 2-2.5 years. She's in a girl group and recently announced as global embassador of a luxury brand. This one time she would feature on magazine cover with one of stray kids' members and that member his her bias. The magazine cover is a success and their fan loving it and they get shipped together. And because she said he's her bias, that stray kids member said he gonna write her a song and he did and the internet kinda blow up.

Music. Music was alsways home. Something you could turn to when there was no way out. When everything terrified you or it seemed impossible to reach your dreams.

Music was your safe haven from a really young age. Just as a five year old toddler, you sang to all the songs in the radio even if you didn't even understood all the lyrics. You even bothered your parents to let you take lessons with a vocal coach for weeks until they finally agreed. Eventually, they seemed glad that you loved singing so much and happily supported you. You improved really fast and your angelic voice seemed to enchant everyone at every single performance at school.

Whenever someone asked you what you wanted to be when you grow up, the answer was clear. "I want to be a singer!" They all laughed at you, smiling and patting your head like they didn't even think that you could actually become one. For them it was just a dream, soon to be forgotten once you hit puberty and the reality, but you weren't joking. And you trained every day for it.

Around the age of ten, you started hearing some music from kpop groups and it was the first time you actually considered to audition at a company when you were old enough. They would give you training and support you when you were good enough. So, you convinced your parents to let you take some dance lessons too so that your chances for an acception would be higher.

Dancing was something you really enjoyed even though it wouldn't replace singing but it brought you even closer to the melody and the rhythm. You felt even more connected with the lyrics and the music all in all.

At the age of sixteen, you decided to give it a try. Several companies had announced auditions and you figured it would be the best time to try it. What could go wrong? You had trained for this moment your whole life and you couldn't be better prepared.

The auditions went really well and soon your held your acceptance in your hand to be a trainee at SM entertainment. Your parents were so proud of you and you loved the time as a trainee even though it was so difficult to balance school and training but you enjoyed the time. You learned so much in that tie and your singing as well as your dancing improved.

During your monthly presentations, your trainers noted your effort and improvement and after three years, you finally debuted in a girl group with four more girl you had met as a trainee. You were placed as one of the vocalists and visuals.

After debut, your group seemed to gain more and more attention from the fans and you must admit that you enjoyed to perform, the energy flowed through you carrying you like a wave.

Nearly three years after debut, it wasn't uncommon for you to have photoshootings for model magazines or other brands. But as soon as the message came that you would be the global ambassador of one of the most well-known luxury brand, you were shocked. This wasn't something that happenend all the time. And the brand was Gucci and they actually planned you to be on the magazine cover.

Just one week before the shooting, you received the message that you would model with Lee Know from Stray Kids. Since you loved Kpop since being a child, you knew pretty well who Lee Know was. I mean, how could you not? His group was really famous for their vibing songs and their chaotic behaviour.

And you were thrilled to meet him face to face. He was like a role model to you. When the other members of your group received the message, they were happy for you and urged to know who your bias in Stray Kids was, knowing damn well that you enjoyed listening to Kpop.

"Come on! You can't just keep it a secret! We won't tell anyone!" One member shouted, clapping excited with her hands.

"No. That's my secret" you claimed, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"I bet it's Lee Know" another stated and you tried to keep your face from burning up. How right she was...

The maknae noticed your shy behaviour. "HA! It is!" she laughed as you blushed and hid your face in your hands. Sometimes you hated them.

"That's so cool! You must tell us every little detail as soon as you're back" another demanded and you quickly escaped their hold to get to the location for the photoshoot.

During the whole drive, you were nervous and you bit your lip to get you to concentrate. You were an idol for god's sake, so act like one! But your hands got clammy when you stepped out of the car, following your manager inside the location.

You were already used to the turmoil with the manager and assitants running around. An assistant from Gucci greeted you with a bow and lead you to the dressing room. Precisely, she helped you change into a beautiful black dress that ended just above your knees, showing your long soft legs. It was made for you.

The soft faric hugged your body like a second skin, bringing your waist out and your chest. You felt like a queen. It exposed your shoulders and closed lowly around your neck, leaving space for a beautiful necklace.

The shoes were a dream in black, making you even taller and graceful. In Addition, your hair was styled in soft defined waves, falling over your shoulders. The makeup stylist worked on your face in the meantime. She applied foundation and a glowy highlighter as well as a brown eyeshadow that complimented your eyes and made them sparkle even more. The red lipstick brought the attention to your rounded lips, the only thing that had a colour so that it would glow in the photos.

After an hour, they had finished their work satisfied and the assistant lead you to the actual photo location. You felt the nervousness pumping through your veins as you greeted the photographer and the rest of the staff. Just moments later, Lee Know walked through the same door with a charming smile and a low bow to greet everyone.

He looked stunning in the black suit with the white chemise that exposed a bit of skin, leaving everything to your imagination. His hair was styled classy and showed off his beautiful eyes.

"Nice to meet you Y/n" he greeted you with a smile, taking your hand to shake it while he bowed deep. You replied in the same gesture. "Nice to meet you too. I'm honoured to work with you"

He smiled and patted your hand without anyone noticing. "I look forward to work with you"

Internally, you were freaking out like a teenager crushing over meeting her role model. You felt the blush on your cheeks and tried everything to keep it low.

The photographer explained to you both how you should express yourself on the photos even stating what poses he wanted to see.

You swallowed and moved yourself in front of the white background with Minho following. You started with simple things, leaning your back against each other while staring at the camera with a dashing smile. His back was warm and you felt the muscles under his clothes, soft but at the same time strong.

The other pose showed strength and intimacy. Minho was sitting tall behind you, leaning slightly forward to show more of his skin that was exposed by the open bottoms of his chemise. His right arm rested on his knee, giving him a composed and thoughtful look. His facial expression is confident with his gaze directed to the photographer.

You were seated in front of him, leaning forward as well with your body slightly angled towards the camera. Your elbow was resting on your knee, emphazising your long legs and your hand supported lazily your head.

The photographer liked those photos and during the shooting, both you and Minho laughed a lot, connecting really fast when you told him that you had a cat too.

You two shared some funny cat stories and grew more comfortable around the other.

The photographer suggested more intimacy in the photos. In this image, you two posed intimately close. He stood behind you, your faces close together as he rested his head over your shoulder. You chose a soft and serene gaze to pierce through the camera. you felt one of Minho's hand sneaking around your waist, pulling you even closer. Your physical proximity showed a subtle mixure of tenderness and resilience.

The photographer was pleased with the outcome and thanked you for working so well. Even after finishing the shooting, you couldn't stop speaking with him. He was so kind-hearted and funny, inspiring you. And soon, you were back your dorms, sad that the experience was over.

Some weeks later, the magazine was published with you and Minho on the cover. It was an understatement to say that the fans went wild. Social media was full of images of the photoshooting and nearly everyone shipped you both, making you blush.

When you went live one evening to speak to your fans, you read often the question if you and Minho were a pair. You declined and even more messages followed, asking you different things about Minho. Sadly, you couldn't give many answers and when they questioned who your bias was, you admitted shy that he was it.

The fans went wild again and you were now completely sure that Minho knew about your secret crush on him.

Chan from Stray Kids announced in one of his livestreams that Minho had been working on an own song since his photoshoot for Gucci and fans spaculated that it had something to do with you.

Weeks when the hype went down a bit, Minho released a single. At first, due to training you couldn't listen to it but when fans went wild again, claiming that he definitely wrote it for you, you needed to hear it.

It was a love ballad and you loved the melody and rhythm at the first notes. His soft voice told a story about a girl he met. In the song, he described her as beautiful, the deep red lips that attracted him like it was essential for surviving.

I saw you there, in that moment of light A vision in black, like the stars in the night Your deep red lips whispered things you didn’t say And I stood frozen, as the world slipped away

You didn’t know it, but you captured my soul Every glance you gave me made me lose control The camera was flashing, but all I could see Was the way you moved, like a shadow's melody

You're the midnight that I can't forget Wrapped in a mystery I haven't solved yet The way you move, like whispers in the air A perfect storm that I can’t help but stare In the silence, your elegance stays Draped in the night, in a world of shades

Your smile was soft, like a hidden sunrise But there was fire burning deep in your eyes You moved like a dream, as the lights hit your face And I knew I was lost, caught up in your grace

I kept my distance, but inside I screamed You walked through my life like a midnight dream I wanted to tell you, but how could I dare To let you know that I was falling right there

Maybe one day, you'll hear this song In the quiet of night, when the world feels wrong And maybe you’ll wonder who it was for But I’ll just stay silent, forever wanting more

In the shadows, I’ll keep you near A secret flame, forever clear You’ll always be a part of me This hidden love, my melody...

You coudln't stop the smile forming on your lips. "Vision in black" was definitely a metaphor for a black dress and the red lipstick hinted that this song was adressed to you. Tears formed in your eyes at the intimacy of the song.

Just seconds later, a message plopped up on your phone. A message on instagram from Minho.

<<Hoped you liked my song>> he had texted with a cat emoji and a smile formed on your lips as you answered quick.

149 notes · View notes

whatdoeseverybodywant · 3 months ago

Text

The Boy Is Mine - Chapter One

Authors: @whatdoeseverybodywant & @paigereeder

Summary: Josh was at the tail-end of his marriage and has told himself he doesn’t want anything serious. He just isn’t a casual type of guy, and all his actions have consequences.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Female OC

****We do NOT give ANYONE permission to repost or copy our work and post it as their own, that goes for on here and any other site (this does not include reblogs on Tumblr)****

****We do NOT own any distinguishable public figures, celebrities, lyrics, places, institutions, or businesses. Only thing we own are our OCs and made up locations****

❤Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

CAST PAGE!

~Thursday- December 31st, 2021~

The base thumped as the sweaty drunken bodies bounced, slid, bumped, and gyrated against each other in one of the most popular clubs on arguably thee most popular night for the city… in the most popular city in the world for this day. New Year’s Day always brought those from all over the country to New York City for one reason or another; be it a Broadway Musical, the Macy’s Day Parade on the day itself, or one of the many festivities the night before…the city had plenty of stories to tell. Some of those stories would be amazing, some would not be described with the same sentiment. And…Unfortunately for some, New York City was no Vegas…and what happened there would most definitely not stay there.

Amina was dancing, for the first time in a long time she was carefree. A state that she didn’t reach often, especially if she wasn’t drinking. Her nerves were much too high to get drunk, that was a recipe for disaster. Before her big basketball games in High School and College her and her teammates had their traditions that got them through pre-game and game day nerves. That luxury wouldn’t be awarded this time, she was doing this on her own. No teammates to fall back on, and she was entering into a sport where they would chew her up and spit her out if she showed weakness or lack of skill. Oddly enough she had become cool with a couple of her female colleagues so when she was invited out for New Year’s Eve in New York City she gladly went. She threw on a short black cocktail dress and the red Swarovski Crystal Louboutin’s she got for Christmas, some black eyeliner, a couple coats of mascara and a red lip stain to tie it all together and left her hotel room with only a couple goals. Dancing and having fun, hopefully hold the nerves.

She didn’t have the chance to become too familiar with her male colleagues but the ones she was introduced this evening seemed pretty nice and welcoming so far. Dancing with a couple and having conversations with others, being socialable wasn’t as hard as it usually was for her. Granted she was being introduced by someone that already liked her and had even taken her under her wing as her ‘little sister’, was also a plus. But even still, she normally stuck to herself being slightly shy because a lot of people had the misconception that she was either stuck up, conceited, or a mean girl. She was no stranger to being bullied, so this atmosphere was definitely a change of pace, and she was trying.

One guy in particular lingered a little longer than everyone else that talked to her. Amina enjoyed talking to him and even picking his brain a bit since he had already been in the business a while. He was easy to talk to and offered his help in the future with navigating anything in the business. For some reason, this man was comforting and that led to finding out he was funny, and that led to finding out he wasn’t a terrible dancer, and that led to both being fully sober when Amina found out his lips were soft when the club showed the ball drop and the clock struck midnight.

₊˚ ‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵˚₊

“S-shit…” Amina’s mouth fell open as she panted out; she gripped onto the sheets.

“Fuck mama…you takin’ dis dick so good baby….”

Josh held onto her hips with his right hand as he hammered into her, using his left to grip and straighten her chin as he dipped his head to kiss her. The champagne on his tongue that he used to cheers at midnight, mingling with the sweet fruity flavors from her non-alcoholic drink on her tongue as the two tongues battled each other for dominance. He squeezed her chin to get her to submit to his lead, she uttered incoherent words against his lips. Pulling away from the kiss his thumb swiped across her red lipstick-stained lips, smudging it lightly. She choked on her moans when he picked up the pace. Her lust-filled eyes glanced down where their bodies joined before roaming over his entire being. Josh was consuming and attentive, rough yet tender, passionate, and his strokes were lethal. When his eyes met hers, his lips formed a small lopsided smile.

Her sensuality all evening had enthralled him, being inside of her was satisfying in so many ways. Every touch she left was warm and intoxicating. Her aura…welcoming and soft, not what he had imagined. The hiss they both let out in unison when he first sank himself into her; she was a vocal lover and he was slowly consumed with the sounds he could evoke from her. As her hands roamed his abs and chest he found himself already becoming addicted to being in her presence and attention. Lowering his lips to hers, contentment filled him when they collided.

“Mm… this tight ass pussy…. this gon’ be my pussy now mama?” Josh groaned into her ear, nibbling on the lobe.

Amina couldn’t form the words to answer the way she wanted as he made his strokes shallow and hard, hitting her g-spot over and over. He sucked on her neck leaving behind splotchy love bites. She ground her hips up as she felt the tip of his dick nudging her cervix. Josh moved his hand from her hip and pressed down on her lower stomach, and he slowed his thrusts; he watched his dick slide in and out of her, it glistened in her juices as his ears filled with the sounds of her wetness. She shivered under his touch, eyes rolling into the back of her head as she came.

“I need words baby…” he removed his hand from her chin, tapping her lightly on the cheek with the tips of his fingers.

“P-p-please…baby…You... ugh… you feel s’good…I can’ttt” Amina moans, squirming as he fucked her through her orgasm.

Josh moaned as Amina rolled them over. He propped his head on a pillow as he watched her slow wind in his lap, squeezing her own breasts as she started to bounce; a new sense of pleasure surging through her as her body started to climb towards another orgasm as she barely finished the first. His hands traversed her curves in an appreciative and exploratory manner. Grabbing Amina’s waist, he thrusted up into her as she threw her head back. Sitting up, Josh reached his left hand up and wrapped it around her throat, applying slight pressure. Sucking her right nipple into his mouth,swirling his tongue around it, his lust filled eyes met her hooded ones as he looked up at her when her head lulled back forward. Pushing his body up more on his right elbow he used his left hand that was around her neck to pull her lips hungrily to his. He bit on her bottom lip, squeezing her neck as her ass was clapping against his thighs.

“J-JOSH!!”

“That’s right baby…let the whole floor know who fuckin’ this pussy…”

Clenching her walls slightly Amina spun around and faced away from him with his dick still throbbing inside of her as he laid back with his arms behind his head watching her; he bit his lip. Holding onto his calves she started to bounce; he slapped her ass cheeks as they ricocheted off his pelvis, his eyes slightly mesmerized. He closed his eyes and licked his lips as his balls started to tighten as his orgasm built. Amina started to rock as she used her right hand to rub her own clit. Josh sat up and switched their positions; he reached and gripped behind her knees putting them in a full nelson.

“Mm fuck…you on birth control Amina? Fuck! Let me bust in you…”

Amina nodded her head adamantly as she moaned, picking up the speed of her right hand rubbing her clit; she was completely at his mercy. Josh bounced Amina on his dick as her moans strung together, echoing off the room's walls. She rubbed her left hand down her body to his balls, gently massaging them in her palm as she rhythmically squeezed her pussy walls around his throbbing dick. He picked up the pace, bouncing her fast and sloppy; her breasts bouncing.

“F-Fuck J-JOSH!!!!!” Amina screamed out, her walls clenching in steady pulses as she came.

“Shit Baby...” Josh grunted as he filled her with his cum, biting down on her shoulder as she swiveled her hips slowly, his dick twitched as his warm ropes coated her pussy; emptying himself.

Both were panting as they came down, Amina rested her head back on him. Josh slid his arms around her waist; she placed her hands gingerly on his as he kissed her temple.

~Friday- January 1st, 2022~

Amina stood under the hot water, the steam soothing her muscles that were already beginning to ache. It was the big New Years Day episode of Smackdown in New York City at thee Madison Square Garden, and it just so happened to be her debut as well. She had practiced with Mercedes a couple times the week leading up to this in between the house shows. Mercedes was an easy partner to work with and she was really sweet. Everyone had been so far. It was always good to see everyone outside of work so the party last night that Bianca and Kenneth through was helping with her nerves as well. Now, that was her opinion walking into the arena this afternoon. Her debut did not go the way they had rehearsed… it at all. She still bested Mercedes like she was supposed to, but some of the hits the other woman landed seemed to be fueled by something other than what had been there when they were practicing.

Finishing washing up and washing her hair quicker than she would if she was home, or hell even if she was at her hotel for the evening, but the arena’s locker room wasn’t the place to try and reflect what could have possibly happened Monday afternoon up until when her entrance music hit. Fans were familiar with her from her extremely brief two month run on NXT, one of the fastest if not the shortest NXT runs in history, and they actually received her really well on the main roster. The fans, the higher ups, production and the men congratulated her, which didn’t explain why she would probably be wearing more black spots than Cruella DeVille and a lot of the women were side eyeing her.

Reaching her arm out she grabbed her towel and wrapped it around herself, making sure it was secure before stepping out. She was wearing some shower shoes, so she grabbed her hair products and body wash then made her way out to the main locker room area. Charlotte looked up when she entered the room, but didn’t say anything; she just finished texting whoever she was texting before tossing her cellphone in her bag and exiting the room. She seen Pam glance her way then whisper something to Mercedes before she followed in Charlotte’s footsteps without a word. Amina threw her products in her duffel bag and took out her deodorant, she applied it quickly before throwing it in her bag as well before sighing.

“Ok…did I do something wrong to someone? Is this part of some hazing process?! Everyone was fine yesterday?!”

Mercedes chuckled under her breath as she took her items out of her own duffel to prepare for her own shower. She was far too busy gossiping prior to their segment. Pinning her hair up she grabbed her own shower products and towel and made her way to the shower area, that just so happened to have to pass Amina to get to.

“Yeah, everyone was probably fine before they knew you liked to sleep your way to the top. I don’t knock annnnnnyones hustle but…...no one is going to like the snobby brat that gets shit handed to her. And a little word of advice? Keep your legs closed to married men…” Mercedes smirked before using her shoulder to knock into Amina as she finished her walk to the showers.

Amina’s mouth fell open in shock. She glanced around the room, it was silent. The only one left in the room that she knew was Natalya, and her look was one of pity. Making her way over to the much younger girl, a slight frown on her face; she wrapped her arms around Amina.

“Try not to let it get to you. Some women just do not get along with certain other women. Sometimes its ‘cause they are a threat, or some real reason. Other times, unfortunately you can just exist and that will bother someone.” She pulled away and lowered her voice, whispering the last part. “Plus I think she has a thing for Josh…” Natalya finished, giving Amina a comforting shoulder squeeze and walking back over to her stuff.

Giving the room one more glance; no one daring to raise their eyes to her. Amina put on some lotion before slipping a thong and leggings on. Putting on a sports bra and zip-up hoodie, she took off her shower shoes and through on some Nike slides. Grabbing her duffle bag, she made a beeline out of the Arena. She heard a little shuffling right outside the door.

“I tried to catch you right after yo’ segment, but you must’a been bookin’ it to the locker room.”

Amina jumped at hearing Josh’s voice. She glanced at him for a second, she almost answered but then she realized that her frustrations and the entire problem….was him.

“What are you still doin’ here? Don’t you got a crew or somethin’ you travel wit’?” Amina said lowly making her way over to her rental that was thankfully tucked away in the talent parking underneath the arena, she did not need fans thinking the same things her co-workers were, or worse knowing that she did indeed sleep with a married man.

Josh moved to walk next to her, grabbing her duffle bag off her arm. She was about to protest but she didn’t want to make a scene, there were after all some crew members and other superstars down here. Luckily for her they weren’t any of those looking at her like a jezebel.

“Yeah, normally I travel wit’da fam but I wanted to catch up wit’chu…and I realize you ain’t even give ya boy ya number.”

“Oh…” she responded quietly.

They stopped when they made it to the Dodge Charger she had rented, popping open the trunk, she watched him put her bag in the trunk…but also his. She was about say something when he started talking first.

“We can stop at like two or three in the mornin’…if we do that we can wake up and only have to drive an hour or two after check out before we can check in at the next city…plus that will give us plenty of time to talk about why the girl I’m talkin’ to now is all short and dry when she was bubbly and talkative last night and this afternoon when I left her…”

He said it with a somewhat joking tone, but Amina knew without a doubt he was far from joking. Josh took the car keys from her shocked hands and went to open the passenger door for her. She looked at him and he gestured for her to get in, which she obliged before he shut the door after she climbed in. He jogged around to the driver's side and hopped in himself, waiting for them both to put on their seatbelts before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

₊˚ ‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵˚₊

The two were silent until they hit the interstate. Amina didn’t know what to say to him, she wanted to go off, but she was too tired and too sore. The radio was the only thing heard for the first twenty minutes into their trip to the next city. A few moments after Josh’s GPS told him to get on the highway he cut the radio down.

“You good?”

Amina kissed her teeth. To her, that question was utterly stupid. She knew about wrestling; her grandfather enjoyed it when she was growing up. Knowledge of the sport to her, didn’t mean knowing the wrestler’s personal lives so how was she supposed to know this man was married? Yeah, he was attractive, but that did not mean she did a deep dive on every attractive man on the roster's marital status, no matter how few of them were attractive on the current rosters.

“I don’t speak in lip smacks and shit like that Amina…you gon’ need to use your words…closed mouths don’t get fed”

“Like you used your words to tell me you were married…not dating…MARRIED!…Maybe I should keep things closed…your little friend Mercedes made me aware that I should keep my legs closed to married men and not sleep my way to the top!” Amina started to fume as she angled her body to face him.

It was now Josh’s turn to smack his teeth. His knuckles on his left hand started to turn white as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“I don’t speak in lip smacks and shit like that Joshua…you gon’ need to use your words…” Amina mimicked him.

Josh didn’t say anything, he just nodded his head silently. The silence was becoming too much for Amina, and if he wasn’t going to explain himself, she would just cut her losses and go about her life with most of the people she seen daily disliking her. She could go to everyone that gave her a dirty look and explain that she didn’t know, but what would be the point…if they didn’t dislike her for thinking she was a home wrecker they would find something else to condemn her for. Leaning forward she turned the radio up, this would be a long little trip but once it was over they could go their separate ways.

There was a rest stop that was coming up and Josh took the turn off for it at the last second, causing Amina to hold onto the door.

“Man makes me a whore and wanna drive frivolously….”

“Cut that shit the fuck out…”

She wasn’t sure if it was the tone, or the overall seriousness of his posture…but she cut that shit the fuck out. Josh parked in an area that was farthest away from the actual building and took his seatbelt off, angling his body towards her.

“She said that shit to you?”

Of all the things he chose to comment on, it was the fact of what Mercedes said not what he had done.

“Does it fuckin’ matter that she said the shit to me?! YOU didn’t…”

“I ain’t say that dumbass shit to you ‘cause I know you ain’t fuckin’ yo’ way to the top… and you ain’t open yo’ legs to a married man. Well… not technically.”

“Pfft” Amina crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

Josh licked his lips and reached over the center console and knocked her arms loose.

“I’m fa’ real…I… well…I’m not divorced yet, but I’m separated. And yo ass talented as fuck… me and Big Uce was watchin’ some of yo’ matches at NXT…shit even watched yo’ college highlight reel. Hell, yo ass might got us beat on some of the shit yo’ lil ass can do. I don’t know what the hell her issue is, i caught the segment just as you made it to the ring, she probably was mad you cooked her ass. I even heard folks talkin’ bout you dawg walked her on the mic. So, you got mic skills this early in yo’ career too? You ‘bout to be pressure. Hell… I might have to get in bed wit’chu to get some tv time in a minute.” He joked, noticing her face still lacked any and all amusement. Amina rolled her eyes again and turned her head to look forward and out the front windshield. He reached over to firmly grabbed her chin, turning her to face him again gently. “Maaaan look at me when I’m talkin’ to you and fix ya face. I’m fa’ real. You don’t need me to push you no where… you goin’ places. But on the real…my marriage been over. It’s just…I guess we then got into a co-parenting routine and since we don’t live together, I ain’t press for a divorce. Plus, our sons is young, she ain’t even move out right away. I got a lil’ spot in Florida from back when we was doin’ the thunderdome, so I stayed there a little more. But now she found her a new crib and we explained to the boys somewhat. Man my family don’t even know for real, just Jon, Joe, and Joseph…not even Trin know right now. I’m private, don’t none of them people in there that I don’t talk to like dat know about all dat…”

He let her chin go when her face softened. Amina wanted to believe him, but in all honesty, she didn’t know him well enough to know if he was a liar. In her gut, she felt like he wouldn’t lie about that. Josh could tell by the look on her face she was conflicted.

“Look…we was vibin’. We had good conversation. You like a lot of shit that I do. You like sports, and….hell you interested in wrestling. And all that shit is important to me at this point in my life. I…I can’t offer you a relationship. Cause I don’t even know if I’ll ever want that again at this point. I don’t require much personally, but my lifestyle so different most won’t understand; you gon’ learn this shit ain’t for the weak. But, if you cool wit’ it… I want us to be able to kick it.”

“…I…I mean I guess we can kick it….not like I have many friend options now, I probably wouldn’t have anyways…besides….we just kickin’ it…it’s not like we gonna repeat last night where you tryna rearrange my insides.” Amina rolled her eyes again, sarcastically this time.

“You want me to talk to ‘em?…”

“Nah… it’s whatever. I’m used to it.” Amina sighed.

“You sure?”

“Yeah…I’m sure…”

“Aight… take out yo’ phone…”

“Why?” she raised her eyebrow at him.

“You know you walkin’ around wit’ a Utopia Box?” He asked, flicking his eyes between her legs than back at the well-lit building of the rest-stop.

“Thanks, I got it for my birthday…” she deadpanned. He was so random.

“Look up the best divorce lawyer in Atlanta….”

“Huh?…”

“Girl if you don’t want me to talk to ‘em… and the only thing stoppin’ me from gettin’ back in between yo’ legs is my divorce than I’m pickin’ one and I’ll call bright and early at eight on Monday mornin’…cause baby I’m a lot to handle and my sexual appetite high, so if you think you can put that good ass pussy on me and you gon’ fuck and duck me? You outta yo’ mind…respectfully. ”

Amina shoved him causing him to flinch towards the door, laughing. She side-eyed him for a minute before joining in with him in laughing. When their laughter died down his eyes got a little lower as he slowly blinked, moving in closer to her face.

“Ahmi, Can I kiss you?”

“Ahmi?” she looked at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher.

“I’on kno it’s like yo’ name but remixed…plus I’m sure you ain’t gon’ let me call you baby at work…” he smirked.

“It’s just no one has ever given me a nickname before…except my mama and my lala”

“That makes me special… and since I’m special…” he paused and licked his lips. “I’m gon’ ask again..can I kiss you?” his voice slightly huskier.

Biting her bottom lip for a second, before nodding her head slowly, he smiled closing the very short distance between them and pressed his lips softly to hers.

-Tuesday- February 14th 2022 ~

Atlanta, Georgia

“Fuck!” Chantelle Dixon also known as Honey cried out as she finished counting all the money she had made for the night. “Five hundred?! This shit ain't enough,” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with irritation. She ran a hand through her curls, trying to shake off the disappointment in her chest. Valentine’s Day was normally a good day at the club, but this year, everyone seemed to be in a relationship or flat-out broke. Honey scowled, stuffing the bills into her purse, not bothering to roll them. She'd have to pull double shifts next week to make up for this disaster. Her mother was already doing doubles all week at the diner to make ends meet, and Honey had promised herself she wouldn't let her down.

“Honey! Request, room four!” a voice called out, breaking her moment of frustration.

"Okay" she called back, irritation still present in her voice. She took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror, she forced a smile onto her face as she adjusted her sparkly top and reapplied her lip gloss.

The walk from the dressing rooms to the private one wasn’t a long one. Honey knocked twice before entering, her practiced sultry gaze sweeping the dimly lit room. Her heart skipped a beat as she locked eyes with her client for the night. This man was FINE —caramel skin glowing under the soft light, muscles defined in a cut-off white Nike shirt. The Cuban link around his neck and wrist gleamed like a promise of something more. She prayed that this dance would give her just enough to keep the lights on for another month.

She felt her panties dampen as he stuck his tongue out to lick his lips and the gleam of his grillz caught her attention. Honey swallowed hard, trying to regain her composure. This wasn't her first rodeo, but something about this man made her feel like a rookie all over again. She walked further into the room, hips swaying with each step as she felt his eyes on her.

“Damn Ma’ you even prettier up close.” He muttered licking his lips again as she walked closer to him.

Honey felt her cheeks grow hot as his eyes roamed her body. “Thank you,” She said with a sultry smile just as the music started flowing through the room. “You don’t seem like the type to be alone on Valentine's Day.” She said just as she started gyrating her body to the music.

“I’m usually not.” He chuckled, leaning back in the chair and getting comfortable, legs spreading open, so if she wanted to, she had room to dance up close. “This year jus’ a lil’ different”

“Well, that's good for me right?” Honey winked, as she slid her hands up her body, keeping her eyes locked on his as she reached her clothed breast. Josh felt his mouth dry up as Honey started to toy with the silver buckle that held her top closed. “I get to have you all to myself.” He groaned as she finally undid the clasp and her breast spilled out.

“Fuck” She heard him whisper and it made her smirk. Honey bit her lip and turned her back to him, rolling her hips in slow, hypnotic circles. She bent her knees a little shaking her ass in his face, before standing up straight and slowly walking over to him. Honey straddled his lap, her hips undulating to the rhythm of the music. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, his breath hot on her neck as she leaned in close. His hands hovered near her waist, not touching, but she could sense his restraint. She ran her hands up his arms, loving the way his body shivered under her touch.

. “What’s your name?”

“Josh” He answered immediately. His eyes dropped down to her exposed breast and he licked his lips. As she continued her dance. She could feel his arousal pressing against her, and it took all her self-control not to grind down harder. This was business, after all. But something about this man made her want to blur those lines. Josh's fingers twitched, yearning to touch her. Honey noticed his struggle and leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear. “Remember, baby, no touching,” she purred, her voice low and sultry.

Josh groaned, his head falling back against the chair. “Damn, ma. You makin’ it real hard to follow the rules.”

Honey chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Josh's spine. She continued her dance, her body moving in perfect sync with the music. Her hands trailed down her sides, over her hips, drawing his gaze to every curve. As the song faded out, Honey stood up slowly, her eyes never leaving Josh's. She could see the desire burning in his gaze, matching the heat she felt coursing through her own body. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was a professional who was used to maintaining emotional distance from her clients. But something about Josh was different and it intrigued her.

“That's the end of our time, baby,” she said, her voice huskier than she intended, more turned on than she had ever been during a private dance. Josh’s eyes widened as she bent down to grab her discarded top.

“One more dance,” he said, grabbing his wallet and taking out a couple hundreds. Honey’s eyes widened. It was way more than necessary. “Please,” he begged and Honey felt herself nodding.

“Okay,” She whispered, dropping her top back to the floor. As the next song started to play, Honey went back to her previous position, straddling Josh’s thighs. As Honey began to move again, she felt a shift in the atmosphere. The air between them crackled with electricity, and she found herself getting lost in Josh's intense gaze. His hands, still hovering near her waist, trembled with the effort of restraint.

She quietly grabbed his hand and placed it on her waist. She would deal with the consequences from her boss later. Josh let out a choked curse as his hands came in contact with Honey’s soft skin. He brought his other hand up and gripped her hips. The music faded into the background as they lost themselves in each other. Honey's hands slid up Josh's chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palms. She leaned in, her forehead resting against his, their breaths mingling in the scant space between them. Somehow the dance had turned into downright dry humping.

Honey's hips moved in slow, sensual circles, her body responding to Josh's touch in a way she'd never experienced before. She could feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, his fingers digging into her flesh making her moan softly.

“What’s yo name?” He asked and Honey knew he was asking for her real name.

“Chantelle.” She whispered, moaning as Josh began rocking her hips harder against his erection, biting his lip at her soft moans.

“Chantelle,” Josh repeated softly, savoring the sound of her real name on his lips. “It suits you.” He said as he pulled her even closer, her bare breast now pressed up against his shirt. Chantelle felt herself getting lost in the moment, in the heat of Josh's touch and the intensity of his gaze. She knew she was crossing a line, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She had never crossed this line before, but something about this man was different. It felt natural to be this way with him.

Chantelle’s fingers tangled in his hair as she closed the remaining distance between them, her lips brushing against his in a feather-light kiss. Josh groaned, one hand sliding up her back to cup the nape of her neck. He deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips until she opened for him. The kiss was electric, setting every nerve ending in Chantelle's body on fire. She leaned her neck to the side as she trailed kisses up and down her neck.

“What time yo’ shift over?”

₊˚ ‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵˚₊

“Fu-fuck” Chantelle moaned out as Josh wrapped one of his hands around her neck, pinning her to the seat as he fucked all the thoughts out of her head. This was not how she pictured her night ending, folded up in the backseat of Josh’s car, eyes crossed, mouth hung open in pleasure while he dugged her out. She had one of her hands pressed up against the door and the other one was holding onto her breast, toying with her nipple.

Josh's grip tightened as he thrust deeper, eliciting another breathy moan from Chantelle. “So fuckin’ wet.” He mumbled, eyes locked onto where their bodies met, loving the way her pussy swallowed his dick whole. Chantelle choked out another moan as he let go of her leg with his other hand and brought it down to her clit, rubbing it in tight circles. “Pussy so fuckin’ tight, so fuckin’ good. You gon come fa’ me?” He grunted out, eyebrows furrowed together as he started pounding into her. The car was definitely rocking but neither cared, given she was the last to leave the club and no other cars were in the parking lot.

“Yes.. oh fuck!” Chantelle's body tensed as her climax hit her full force. Stars exploded behind her eyelids as she cried out Josh's name, her body trembling beneath him. Josh growled at the feeling of her pulsing around him, He shifted his grip, sliding one hand down to Chantelle's hip for better leverage while the other remained firmly around her throat. The new angle allowed him to hit even deeper, his cock brushing against her G-spot with every stroke.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Josh groaned, his voice husky with desire. He leaned down, capturing Chantelle's lips in a searing kiss. Their tongues danced as he continued to thrust into her, swallowing her whimpers of pleasure.

Chantelle pressed her hands against his abs trying to push him away, tears welling in her eyes at how overstimulated she felt. Josh broke the kiss and moved his lips near Chantelle’s ear, his lips brushing against it as he whispered huskily, "You can take it, baby. I know you can." His tongue flicked out, tracing the shell of her ear.

“J-Josh!" she cried out, as her second orgasm hit outta nowhere, her fluids gushing out, wetting up him and his seats.

Josh's rhythm faltered as Chantelle's second orgasm washed over him, her slick heat clenching around him like a vice. He groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he fought to maintain control. The scent of her skin, a mix of sweat, and her flowery perfume filled his nostrils, driving him wild.

"Fuck, Chantelle," he panted, his hips snapping forward with increased urgency. He abruptly pulled out of her and grunted and he came. Chantelle gasped at the sudden emptiness, her body still trembling from her climax. She watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Josh stroked himself to completion, his release spilling onto her stomach and breast in hot spurts. Chantelle moaned at the feeling.

"Damn, girl," Josh murmured, running his hands through his damp mullet after their breathing had returned to normal. He reached into the pocket of one of the chairs in the backseat and handed her a pack of baby wipes. She eyed the wipes in his hand, wondering why he had them in his car. “Whatchu looking at them like that for?”

“You uhh.. Do this often?” She asked as she took them and wiped his release off her stomach and breast.

“What -Nah!” He chuckled. “I have kids and they be messy as hell. Can’t get in the ride with messy ass hands.” Chantelle giggled as she sat up and began putting her clothes back on.

“Where’re my panties?” She asked looking around the car. She cursed and she peered into the front seat and saw them torn, hanging from his rearview mirror. “Sir what the hell.”

Josh chuckled as he pulled his briefs and cargo pants back over his hips. He grabbed them out of her hand. “Souniver” He winked and she scoffed.

“I’m not getting in a Uber with no panties.”

“Girl. You know imma take you home. I ain’t havin’ you in no stranger’s car.” Chantelle’s eyes widened. There was no way in hell he could see where she lived. Technically he was a stranger too.

"No, no, it's cool. I can just call my friend to come get me," Chantelle said quickly, fumbling for her phone.

Josh raised an eyebrow. "At 3 AM? C'mon, be forreal. I'll drop you off, it's no trouble."

Fuck Chantelle thought as she tried to come up with a plan. Josh got out of the back seat and stretched his body before getting the the driver's seat and starting the car. He then picked his phone up from the cup holder – where he had placed it earlier and handed it to her.

“Put yo’ address in” Still panicking, she quickly entered the only other address she knew by heart. She handed Josh back his phone and climbed into the passenger seat. As she settled into the seat, she quickly grabbed her phone and texted her best friend. She crossed her fingers as she waited for her response.

To Bff4L : You up? From Bff4L : yea whats wrong? To Bff4L: I’ll explian when I get there.

Chantelle relaxed in her seat as Josh started driving towards her best friend's house. The car ride was anything but silent. They pretty much got to know each other in the 30-minute drive. Chantelle had learned that he was 35, had two kids, and was an athlete. Which didn’t really surprise her. It was obvious he had money.

Chantelle told him some things about her too. She told him she was 26, she was born and raised in Atlanta, and that she was an only child. He didn’t need to know anything else. She let out a tiny sigh of relief as he pulled onto her friend's block.

“Thank you,” Chantelle whispered as she looked over at him. Her heart pounded in her chest as their eyes locked. Josh smiled at her. He had taken his grillz out and his smile was even more captivating without them. Chantelle felt a flutter in her stomach.

“It’s all good Telle.”

“Nig– Telle?” Chantelle raised an eyebrow, not sure how to feel about the new nickname.

“What? You don’t like that? How bout boo, baby, sweetheart.. I can go on.” Josh teased playfully.

Chantelle scoffed and opened the car door. “Bye Josh” She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile on her face as she shut the passenger door and started walking up the driveway towards the front door.

“Bye Boo!”

She flipped him off making him laugh. She opened the front door and looked back to see Josh still sitting in his car, watching her with an amused grin. She shook her head and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

“Is he the reason why I’m up at 3 a.m.?”

Chantelle jumped and turned to face her best friend Dejah, who was leaving the kitchen with a bottle of water.

“Shut up, you said you were up already,” Chantelle muttered as they walked into the living room and threw themselves onto the plush couch. Chantelle sighed as she leaned back into the couch and closed her eyes.

“Bitch! Who the fuck was that?”

Chantelle sighed with her eyes still closed, she answered, “That was Josh. We met at Blue Diamond earlier.” Dejah hummed and Chantelle opened her eyes to look at her. “What?”

“Y’all met at the club?” when Chantelle nodded Dejah continued. “So how did you get in his car at three in the morning?”

Chantelle groaned and covered her face. “Don’t judge me Dejah.”

Dejah gasped and reached over to slap Chantelle on her arm. “Chantelle Rose! Did you sleep with him?” With her face still covered, Chantelle nodded, and Dejah hit her on her arm again. “What the hell friend! Why?!”

“I don’t know,” Chantelle muttered, dropping her hands from her face and looking at her best friend. “It’s just – something about him is just different. You know I’ve never done nothing like this before. I tried to just be professional but girl, the way he looked at me I mean.” Chantelle paused and took a deep breath. “I been striping for years and have been stared at like a piece of meat by any and every man. But the way Josh looked at me, it was like he saw through all of that. Like he was seeing the real me, you know?”

Dejah shook her head. “You a big girl so I’m not gonna berate you. All imma say is be careful.” Dejah said as a yawn escaped her mouth. “I’m going to bed. You already know the guest room is yours”

“Thank you,” Chantelle muttered. Dejah gave her friend a tight-lipped smile before making up way out of the living room and up the steps to her bedroom.

With a sigh, Chantelle stood from the couch and made her way to the guest room. She took a quick shower before changing into the pajamas she left there last time. As Chantelle climbed into bed, there was only one thing on her mind.. Josh.

~ Wednesday- February 15th 2022 ~

It was around 10 am the next morning when Chantelle finally left Dejah’s house. As she was walking out the front door and to the MARTA bus stop a couple of blocks down. As she made it to the end of the driveway and semi-familiar white BMW pulled up to the curb. She paid it no mind and continued her walk to the bus stop.

“I man, Ion mind chasing after you.” Chantelle stopped dead in her tracks and turned around to see Josh smiling at her as he leaned over to yell out the passenger window.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, walking back towards the car, trying to keep her voice casual despite the flutter in her stomach.

Josh shrugged, his grin widening. “I came to see if you wanted to go to breakfast”

Chantelle’s heart skipped a beat. He came to see me she thought as a smile crossed her face. She nodded and grabbed the handle of the car door, opening it. “I would love to.”

₊˚ ‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵˚₊

“How you doin'? Uh, can I get triple hash browns scattered and covered? Six scrambled eggs with American cheese, two chocolate chip waffles, and a lemonade.”

Chantelle’s eyes widened as his order kept growing and growing. After he was done he looked over at her, waiting for her to order. “Damn, I thought you were ordering for the both of us.” She chuckled before turning her attention to the waitress. “Can I just get the cheese and eggs with raisin toast please, with a glass of water?” The waitress nodded before taking their menus from them and walking away to put their order in.

Raisin Toast? Josh thought That’s what Ami– he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She ended things with you. Stop thinking about her.

They both lapsed into a comfortable silence, sneaking glances at each other before adverting their gazes. Chantelle felt herself blush when Josh caught her staring and smirked at her.

“Can I just say that um, I never done.. Um, I never had uh, sex with a client before,” she admitted softly, glancing up at him through her lashes.

“I’m your client?”

Chantelle nodded. “Yeah, you paid for a service and I provided that service, making you my client. But I don’t want you to think I’m some hoe or something, just sleeping with men who pay for dances.”

“Telle.” Josh chuckled, cutting off her rambling. “I don’t think you a hoe. Promise”

“Thanks,” she said softly, meeting his eyes. “I just... I don't usually do that kind of thing. There was just something about you…” She trailed off with a shrug and Josh’s smile dropped a little. He cleared his throat and sat back in his seat.

“Look, I wanted to eat first but uh. I like you. I mean the sex was.” He paused and let out a slight chuckle. “The sex was good but I can’t go no further with you.” Chantelle’s face dropped. “I mean, I can’t give you a relationship or nothing. Like I’m always on the road and only here in the ATL for about two to three days out the week.”

“Oh,” Chantelle said. She felt her heart sink, but she forced a small smile and nodded. "I understand," she said softly, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "I appreciate your honesty."

Josh leaned forward, his gaze intense. “I don't want you to think I'm playin' you or nothin'. It's just... my life, it's complicated as hell right now and I can't drag you into all that.”

Chantelle said nothing and Josh sighed just as the waitress came and sat their food down. Not in the mood to eat anymore, she asked the waitress for a to-go box.

“Wait. Chantelle, you don’t have to leave.”

“No, I think I should.” She said as she started putting her food in the container.”

“Listen Uce, chill chill,” Josh said as she stood from the booth and started walking towards the exit. He stood too and grabbed her arm gently, stopping her from walking away from him. “We can be friends, can’t we? I-I got so much shit going on right now. I can’t be in a relationship.”

Chantelle rolled her eyes. “Friends?” She deadpanned “You wanna be friends?”

Josh nodded eagerly and held his hand out. “Yeah, You cool and we obviously vibe together. Leeme see ya’ phone.”

Chantelle scrunched her face up but fished into her tote bag and handed him her phone anyway.

“Looks, here’s my number.” He said as he handed her phone back. She arched her eyebrow when she saw he had saved it under UceyJucey. “Text me.”

Chantelle bit her lip and nodded. “Okay.” She said just as she saw her Uber pull up in front of the restaurant. “I have to go.”

Josh nodded. “Aight. Don’t forget to text me, Telle!” He called out to her as she was leaving the restaurant. He let out a loud sigh as he sat back down in the booth. He placed both his elbows on the table and placed his head in his hands. “Fuck.” He muttered and grabbed his phone out of his pocket, calling the one person who he knew he could talk to.

“ Uce! I was starting to think I wasn’t gon hear from yo’ ass today.”

“Jon,” Josh muttered. Jon’s smile immediately dropped at the seriousness in Josh’s voice. “I fucked up.”

😮‍💨 Welp! Here it is! the first chapter of my and @paigereeder 's collab. Let us know what you think? We love interacting with y’all… stay tuned… it’s going to get even more… interesting

🏷️: @trentybenty @nbanenefrmdao @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld

@uceyliyahh @harmshake @wooahmiri @xbriexx @misslackey

@biancasreign @ashykneee @claymoresofinfamy23 @geekinstilettos @sayyestoheav3nn

@bebesobrielo @amandairene88 @summerssoldierxx @christinabae @cyberdejos2

@pinkwithhearts @partypoison00 @msbigredmachine @alika-4466 @bossbitch-22

@jeyusos-girl @fearlesschimera @privateeyed95

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso fanfic #jey uso imagines #jey uso imagine #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x fem reader #jey uso smut #jey uso x reader #jey uso fic #wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #wwe x black oc #wwe x black reader #wwe x fem reader

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bamboozledbird · 4 months ago

Text

𝕚𝕗 𝕚 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 // stiles stilinski imagine

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader, Theo Raeken, Lydia Martin, Scott McCall Pairing(s): Stiles x fem!reader, Stiles x you (no use of y/n), Theo x fem!reader, Stiles x ofc Word Count: 7k (bbygurl got away from me oops) Tags: Hurt/a little, itty bit of comfort, angst is my lifeblood i fear, let's play a game of who can find all the noah kahan lyrics Warnings: Underage drinking/drug use (at least in america rip, they're all 19+), suggestive language, some light cheating, i think that's it?, sad girl summer :'(

Request: “You think I like being like this? Every time someone fucking touches you I want to rip their hands off!” for stiles please and thnk you!!!

Part II: after many requests, here’s the happy ending: part two A/N: i am well aware theo is way too nice, and me personally?? could never forgive him for hurting scott mccall, the light of my fucking life. but it's for the plot. the things we must do for the plot of it all. i might make a part two? but this was already long, and i liked the conclusion enough to stop. lemme know if that sounds interesting to y'all. ps: listen to strawberry wine and the view between villages for vibes.

That first night, you drove home—207 miles in less than 3 hours, sobbing the entire way. Didn’t matter that you were right in the middle of finals. Didn’t matter that you had Math 19 at 8:00 in the morning. Nothing mattered except for the ringing in your ears, the blistering echoes of, ‘I can’t do this anymore,’ over and over and over again until you stumbled into the house you grew up in—the house he practically grew up in. He was all over every room, all over your entire goddamn hometown, all over you, and you had this desperate, crawling urge to scrub your skin raw. Strip everything away with turpentine until the shadows of his hands and mouth were gone, until you couldn’t smell cedar and 15 years of summer nights and Sunday mornings.

That night you cried so hard it scared your sister. She spent most of the night with her back slumped against your bedroom door, fingertips poking through the little crack underneath, just like she did the first night your parents brought you home. She had to know that you were breathing, had to make sure that your little chest was rising and falling in your sweet bassinet—if you were inhaling in-between your fractured sobs. You eventually cried yourself to sleep—like a baby, like a broken heart—and thrashed around sweat-damp sheets and dreams of him kissing someone else on his couch.

Months later, you finally realize it’s a bit self-involved to think that the universe cares enough about your short, temporal existence to conspire against you…but it certainly feels like it when you tie it all together with red string. After Stiles stopped wanting you, everything just…decayed, rotted, died—so quickly, too quickly for you to bury any of the remains. You’re still grieving Allison, constantly, and currently failing at least half your classes, and, oh yeah, battling literal demons at least three times a week—but mostly, you’re just tired. You’re just so goddamn tired of it all.

To put it plainly, you’re drowning.

That must be why the neat lines of text in your Math 20 textbook are swirling into indecipherable whirlpools. It’s just so…frustrating. You get math. Math is your thing. Derivatives shouldn’t ever send you into a bout of angry tears—but you are, you’re angry. Angry at the numbers for blurring into something unrecognizable, angry at yourself for not recognizing them, for becoming a person you don’t know or like. Your lashes clump together, and few mascara-tinted tears drop onto the glossy pages. At least, the cloudy text isn’t a hallucination now.

“Are you okay?”

The library is quiet, so quiet that you should’ve heard him coming, but you jump at the sound of Theo’s voice. You don’t know him that well; Theo isn’t really the kind of guy you’d talk to, at least not before everything you knew slipped through your fingers. It’s not like you ever disliked him; it’s just…he’s always been everything you’re not—focused, organized, completely in control. He’s confident but not cocky, smart but not arrogant, ridiculously good-looking but just charismatic enough that you can’t really hate him for all the maiming and scheming he pulled last year. He’s been punished enough, you think, and sure—maybe a part of you feels that way simply because Stiles doesn’t.

You haven’t spoken to Theo much, not really. Scott does most of the talking when he shows up to the occasional pack meeting, and Lydia won’t let him within ten feet of you anyway. Frankly, you don’t realize that he knows your name until he says it. His voice is soft in a way that you know isn’t just because of library conduct. It’s his eyes, you think—they’re warm with a concern you aren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve.

You nod and then blink at the fuzzy pages of your math book, eyes almost vacant, “I just…I don't understand.”

Theo sits down next to you and leans forward, scanning the text briefly, “Which part?”

You flush, “...all of it.”

He doesn’t laugh or roll his eyes like you thought he might. Instead, he pulls his chair closer to yours and reaches for a pencil. “Most people will tell you that derivatives are the ‘instantaneous rates of change.’ That’s what the book says, and it’s kind of true, but you’re right—that doesn’t actually make any sense. Things can’t actually change in a single instant, right? Obviously, change happens between two instances, so what they actually mean is a derivative's the rate of instantaneous change measured as precisely as possible.” Theo’s voice is soft in your ear as he drags his finger across your textbook, connecting the vague definitions to numbers that actually compute through your teary haze.

You sit back and just watch for a minute, a little in awe, as he makes all the squiggles into numbers again—and you haven’t been found more than a few feet away from him ever since. You guess it’s because you’re hoping, against all odds, that he can do the same for your life. At least in some small way, maybe.

It’s definitely easier to show up to Lydia's party with his hand in yours.

You’re all back in Beacon Hills for the summer, and it’s nice. It really is. During the school year, you’re spread all across the state for the most part—you, Theo, and Lydia at Stanford; Scott, Kira, and Malia at UC-Davis; Liam and Mason, the babies, about to start their senior year of high school (it makes you want to cry if you think about it too long); Derek in…wherever he ends up for a season (it was fun to visit while he was in New York, and you secretly hope he makes a return in the fall); and, of course, there’s Stiles. He’s all the way on the other side of the country for his Quantico internship, and you still can’t escape him. His hands are all over your scent, all over every important moment of your life since pre-school. Sometimes, you think that you’ll always be one breath away from choking on the memory of him. But it’s easier, you remind yourself; it’s easier to be a minute away from home with Theo standing next to you.

The music is loud in Lydia’s front room, thumping through your chest and sharpening the anxiety crawling through your veins—gnawing at your corneas until a haze of vape and weed and flashing lights consume your vision: pink, blue, green, red, and then pink again.

Theo tightens his grip on your hand and gently pulls you into the kitchen. It’s still loud, but the air is clearer here, and the crowd is thin. There’s a couple you vaguely recognize from high school making out on the granite countertop, too enwrapped in each other’s tongues to notice the mixer-sticky surface, and a couple boys who were on the lacrosse team gather drinks for another round of beer pong behind them.

“You’re psychic,” you hum, resting your chin against the little dip in Theo’s sternum so that you can grin up at him, “tell the truth.”

He laughs easily and wraps his arms around your waist. The solid weight releases some of the vague unease stubbornly clinging to your synapses. “I solemnly swear that my supernatural abilities end at claws and fangs. I just know you; that’s all.”

You hum as he sways with you a little and shake your head, “It’s only been a few weeks. You’ve gotta have some help from the other side.”

Theo shrugs and lifts you onto the counter behind him—a non-sticky patch, thankfully—and brushes your hair out of your eyes, “Maybe I’ve been paying attention for a little longer than a few weeks.”

You tilt your head and purse your lips into a pout you hope is even half as cute as the wicked gleam in Theo’s eyes, “How long?”

He shrugs again and ducks down to murmur in your ear, “Maybe since the first grade.”

His breath is warm against your cheek, but you know that’s not the only reason your face feels hot. You push against his chest, pulling a little face, “Shut up.”

Theo laughs and grabs your wrists, kissing your knuckles, “I’m serious! You were so cute with your little pigtails and missing teeth.”

You whine a little, embarrassed as you are as pleased, and hide your face in his neck. It smells good, a little citrusy from his cologne and a little sweaty from the sheer amount of grinding bodies in the house—like a man, like he can and will take care of you. “Stop it. I hated those bangs.”

He pinches your sides a little, “And the way you’d always shoot your hand up first—with the right answer, of course—I was smitten.”

You pull away from his neck and arch your brow, “Was?”

“Am,” he concedes with a soft smile, cupping your cheek and thumbing along your lash line, “am completely smitten.”

He dips in to kiss you, lips barely an eyelash-width away from yours, when a prim cough pulls him away from his spot in-between your legs. You peer around his shoulder and roll your eyes, albeit fondly, at the stern look on Lydia’s face. She’s always been protective of you, even more so after Allison and the whole Stiles debacle, but you’re a bit tired of the Theo Raeken witch hunt.

You slip down from the counter and rock onto your tiptoes to kiss Theo’s cheek—mainly to see the pinch in Lydia’s perfectly tapered brows. “Can you put this in the coat room,” you hum against his skin, shrugging off your baggy leather jacket. He knows the real reason you’re sending him away—of course he does, sometimes it feels like he knows everything—but he goes with a smirk anyway because, despite Lydia and Stiles’s suspicions, he’s trying his absolute hardest to redeem himself.

“You could be a little nicer, y’know,” you reach for a hard lemonade from the ice bucket dripping a puddle of water onto the tile floor. You uncap it on the lip of the massive island and fold your arms over your chest, “He’s been nothing but the perfect boyfriend so far.”

Lydia matches your stance, brows curving, “Boyfriend?”

Heat crawls up your neck to your ears. You haven’t actually discussed labels or exclusivity—you think it’s too early; don’t want to scare him off, but Lydia doesn’t need to know that. “Boyfriend.”

Her curls trickle over her shoulder like the strawberry wine in her cup as she tips her chin and purses her lips into a flat line, “Stiles is here.”

You try not to react—aren’t entirely sure why you do—and hide your complicated frown behind a sip of lemonade. It’s extra bitter going down. “Okay?”

Lydia shifts her weight from one Jimmy Choo to the other and sighs heavily, “He’s not going to like it.”

A flare of irritation sparks in your gut that you chase with a tip of your bottle. “Okay?” you mutter, wiping the excess liquid away with the back of your hand. A smear of nude lipstick is left behind, and you feel the sudden need to leave some on Theo’s neck for everyone to see.

“I’m just warning you; it’s going to be a whole thing,” Lydia waves her hand in the air as she takes a dainty sip from her cup. Her pink manicure shines under the lights, and you wonder briefly how she can make every color look good with her red hair.

You hum and lean forward, grin a little sloppy as you sidle up to her side, “That you’ll be on my side for. Obviously.”

Lydia watches you carefully, eyes heavy, and tucks some of the hair falling in your face behind your ear. “Obviously,” she takes your hand, squeezing it tightly, and you feel a little less giggly and a lot more tender.

You let her pull you into the crowded front room for a dance. It’s a good song, you think. Happy, lots of bass to jump to, and you’re shiny-faced and giddy by the time it’s over.

Meandering towards the back patio for some fresh air, you pull your tank top away from your torso, gauzy material sticky with sweat and someone’s body glitter. You aren’t entirely sure where Theo ended up, but you take it as a good sign that he’s mingling with your friends—which, bless his crooked little heart, is all he’s ever wanted.

The night breeze is so nice against your clammy skin that you feel a little lightheaded. You collapse on a padded deckchair and kick your feet up onto a keg, empty, most likely, based on its current state of abandonment. After a moment of hazy tranquility, a red solo cup filled to the brim with an unknown, potent liquid blocks your view of the winking gold embellishments on your boots.

“You look like you need a drink,” Scott smiles at you from his slight bend over your head.

You take the cup from Scott eagerly and down about half of it to soothe the rawness in your throat—asthma is a bitch in hotboxes, makes you almost consider asking Scott for the bite. “I need about ten,” you hum, licking the little dribble of cherry-something from the corner of your mouth. It’s too sweet, but the ice is easing the beginnings of a headache forming in your temples.

Scott sits down next to you, and you grumble a little as he nudges your side with his elbow until he has enough room to stretch his legs out too. “You look happy,” he grins at you, eyes crinkly and sweet. “Been a minute since I’ve seen that.”

“I feel happy,” you lean against his side and rest your cup against your cheek. The condensation gathered on the plastic is a godsend against your flushed face. “For the first time in…way too long.”

“Good,” Scott's voice is sincere, in the most genuinely empathic way that only Scott McCall can be, and he gently nudges your foot with his, “I’ve been worried.” He pauses and looks down at the contents of his cup, watches the ice slowly melt into whatever he poured for taste alone—you don’t like the pensive squint in his eyes. “You know I want to trust Theo, right? I really want to believe that he’s changed.”

You sigh a little, but because he only ever wants the best for everyone and, well, because it’s Scott, you say, “But?”

He gives his hands a small frown and taps his finger against the side of his drink, “Not a but, exactly. I do think he’s different now.” The mostly goes unsaid, and you watch him closely, waiting for him to finish. “I just want you to be careful, that’s all. I don’t want you to…rush into anything after, well,” Scott scratches the back of his neck a little and winces, “you know.”

“After Stiles dumped me because, ‘he needed space,’ and then started dating someone new two weeks later,” you finish for him flatly. He hadn’t even been subtle about it. His new girl was all over his Insta within the month—and she’s still fucking stunning in his flannels weeks later. Your stomach turns, but you swallow another mouthful of your dri—rum and Cherry Coke, you finally place the flavor, smiling a little at the memory of getting tipsy on the same drink at Senior prom with Scott, Kira, and…Stiles. It’s a good memory, you decide. You won’t let him take it from you.

“Yeah.” Scott sighs into his drink and then takes a long chug, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again, you know? None of us do.”

“I know,” you smile at him fondly and kiss his cheek, “and it’s very sweet, but I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

Scott smiles, bright and puppy-like, and then his head cocks with his little sixth-sense tick—also puppy-like, you think with a smirk. Scott’s grin fades and he murmurs, “Three o’clock,” against the rim of his cup.

Your eyebrows furrow, “What?”

Scott laughs, but it’s strained, and then nods towards something across the pool, “To your right.”

You turn your head, expecting to see one of your friends doing something stupid, and freeze momentarily when you meet Stiles’s gaze. His eyes are a little unfocused, murky with whatever’s in his plastic cup, but they sharpen when he sees you. He backs down first, and you polish off your drink, craving the sweet burn in your throat. “I need another drink.”

“You need to talk to him,” Scott says, and he takes your empty cup away from you, like he’s worried you can magically refill it with the simple power of desire. “If you can’t do it for him, do it for me. His brooding is really getting out of control.”

You don’t bother bringing up that Stiles is the one who ended it or that he brought his new girlfriend home with him. “Maybe,” you shoot Scott a sly grin and try to snag his drink from his hands, but your clumsy fingers are no match for his werewolf reflexes, “I do love and cherish you very, very much.”

Scott laughs and ruffles your hair, approaching noogie territory. “Should’ve gone out with me.”

You can’t help but look for him through the fog rising above the heated pool. Stiles’s face is pale in the reflection of the lit water; the shadows ripple across his cheeks when he tugs his girlfriend into a sloppy kiss—Chelsea, you recall, proud that there’s only a little bitterness coating the thought. “Don’t I know it,” you finally say. It’s the churning reflection and the smell of chlorine, you reason; that’s why you feel a bit like throwing up your last couple drinks.

Scott frowns when you don’t swat at his side or make fun of him, like you’d usually do in the face of such ridiculous teasing, and follows your gaze. “But that was never going to happen, huh,” he says quietly. “Not with the…” he trails off, face scrunching as he searches for the right words, “throbbingly in love since birth thing.”

You laugh through the stabbing sensation in your chest. “Throbbingly?”

He waves his free hand as he takes another sip of his drink, “You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t think I do,” you say, a small smile twitching on your face as Scott spills most of his red drink onto his white t-shirt.

He sighs and pulls the soaked material away from his chest, head darting around as he looks for something to mop up the mess. “You guys were just like…always ahead of everybody from the beginning, you know? Brains, love, all of it. I swear you guys were actually born like 30 years old, or maybe it's some kind of reincarnation, soulmate thing—okay, it probably has more to do with the…”

“Early on-set trauma?” you fill-in for him, sparing him the unpleasantness of bringing up dead mothers and mental illness.

Scott nods and licks his bottom lip before continuing, “I remember this kid had a huge crush on you, like way back in elementary school, and even at nine years old I knew he didn’t have a shot. It was just obvious, you know? It was always going to be the two of you. It was just always gonna end up that way.”

You almost laugh at the sight: Scott dabbing at his shirt with a pink beach towel and oh-so casually confirming that your worst fears aren’t only valid but in fact a reality. Maybe, you really can’t love someone else, not the way you loved him. Maybe, you’re just kidding yourself when you talk about it in the past-tense. Maybe, it really is just the two of you, even if it’s all in your head now.

“I’m definitely not drunk enough for this,” you try to sound flippant, but your words are as shaky as the hand you're raking through your hair. It’s already a mess, but you can’t stop. Your hands need to do something.

“Then you’re really not gonna like what’s coming next,” Scott says as he jerks his thumb towards something behind him.

You turn your head, and your eyes widen when you see Stiles trudging towards the two of you with his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. The chair’s metal frame squeaks with Scott’s shifting weight. He clamors to his feet, mumbling something about cleaning his shirt, and you give him your most intimidating glower, “Scott, if you walk away from me right now, I swear to fuckin’ god, I’ll never—Hi.” Your tone is clipped, short and to the point, when Stiles stops in front of you.

“Hey,” Stiles’s voice is dull, void of emotion, and so is his face. He stares at you, and you wish you knew what was really flickering behind that burnt umber and citrine honey. There was a time when you would’ve known—when you always knew. It’s so strange, you think, so strange how quickly someone can become a stranger.

You clear your throat and tuck your legs underneath yourself, tugging on the hem of your short skirt to maintain some semblance of modesty. His eyes still dart to your upper thigh, lingering on the strip of skin that’s bared when you sit upright. It’s only for a split second—but it’s enough. He’s seen it before, after all. Felt it with his long fingers and open palms. Dragged his lips across it, and left wet, open-mouth kisses along every inch—but he still looks like he wants to sink his teeth into the supple flesh one last time.

You swallow, hard, and stand, “So…how’ve you been?”

“Fine,” he replies flatly. “Obviously not as good as you.”

Your lips purse as your eyes narrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“First Theo Raeken, now Scott McCall: True Alpha, God among werewolves, Messiah of Beacon Hills. I’m genuinely impressed—bottom of my heart, babe. I mean, s’quite the body count if we’re talkin’ claws and body hair alone,” he spits. Despite the slight slur in his words, his consonants are barbed and serrated at the edges. They prick your skin and sting long after he finishes, and you know they’re going to follow you all the way home.

“Don’t be a dick,” you snap, wrapping your arms tightly around your biceps. The chill isn’t so pleasant anymore.

“What? I’m just giving you the props you’ve so clearly earned. You’ve got the magic touch.” Stiles cants his head in a way that distinctly reminds you of someone else—a monster who stole the face of the boy you loved a lifetime ago. “I’d ask how good the sex is, but I already know. It’s that thing you do with your tongue, right? When you’re givin’ head? That’s how you get ‘em, huh. Suckers—” his drink spills on his shoes when he lets out a sharp chortle, “suckers. Didn’t even mean to do that.”

You stare at him, eyes burning, and try to determine exactly how drunk he is. “Stop it.” You do your best to look more annoyed than devastated—the last thing you need is to start crying like you still care. He can't win; you won’t let him, not like this. “Just stop. It’s pathetic—you’re pathetic.”

Something complicated rolls over his face, and Stiles clenches his fists, “Whatever. Guess it’ll be too late to say told’ya so when he rips your heart out and broils it—or whatever the fuck psychopaths do for fun these days.”

Your face crumples a little—not because you think Theo would ever actually hurt you but because Stiles sounds so ambivalent about the possibility. Sometimes you hate him, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot—but you’ve never stopped caring, not once. You never stop worrying about if he’ll make it out alive, if he'll survive with all his breakable bones and fragile skin intact. You find yourself staring at the ceiling until the sun rises, dwelling on all the horrific, life-or-death situations he’ll end up in when he graduates from the Academy years from now. Stiles was your best friend years before he was your boyfriend. Did all that really not matter now? Just because of something as stupid as a breakup? It’s just so…high school. You really thought it’d been…more.

Everything. You used to think it was everything.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Stiles,” you shove past him, stumbling a bit over your boots’ chunky heel and a little too much rum.

He doesn’t follow you, and you should be glad. You should be happy that he isn’t there to witness the black smears under your eyes or the snot you’re trying to hide with a few discreet sniffles. You should be grateful that he doesn’t see Theo pull you into his side and take you home, grateful that he can’t ruin the soft kisses Theo rains down on the crown of your head and the way he doesn’t push to come inside after you say your parents are gone.

But you aren’t, and you hate yourself for it.

You barely manage to wipe off what’s left of your makeup with a damp towel and throw on some clean clothes before you tumble into bed. You’re still sweaty, grimy with tears and a night of dancing, but the rum is hitting hard, and you just want to go to sleep and forget he ever existed.

You’re halfway between sleep and consciousness in the early hours of the morning when you hear a loud thud against your bedroom window. The thudding continues, and with a great sigh you slip out of your sheets, hissing when your bare feet land on the cold floor. You slowly shuffle towards the bay window, trying to forget it's where you had your first kiss, and kneel on the cushioned bench. You have to rub at your eyes a few times when you see Stiles trying to break into your house. You only unlock the latch after you convince yourself that you’re going to push him off of the roof into the rose bushes two stories below, and then, of course, you sit back on your heels so that he has room to crawl through the narrow opening.

“When the fuck did you start locking your window?” Stiles stumbles into your room and catches himself against the floor with his palm, feet still dangling over the windowsill. You take great pleasure in shoving his legs off of the window seat and watching him fall face-first onto the carpeted rug. He grunts when he lands and rubs his jaw as he sits up, “Guess I deserved that.”

His lips part when he gets a good look at you, backlit by the moon and all his worst mistakes. You’re in an old t-shirt from middle school, bleach stains all along the left shoulder, and a pair of baggy sweatpants with ratty holes around the hem from years of dragging against the ground. Your face is still tacky with tears, eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, and Stiles is pretty sure he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

You shift uncomfortably, pull your knees to your chest, and shiver as the night air drifts through the open window, “Still drunk?”

“Not so much,” he holds up a mostly steady hand.

“Still a fucking asshole?”

“Probably.” Stiles bites his lip and shrugs, “Definitely.”

You stare at him, sniffling quietly, hoping that he can’t hear how pathetic it sounds, “Stiles, what are you doing here?”

He drums his fingers against his thighs and shrugs again. You want to smack him. And hold him. And maybe drink some more liver poison until the school year starts again. “Dunno, just started walkin’, n’ I ended up here.” Stiles closes his eyes, and his lashes are so strikingly dark against his pale skin. “I always end up here,” he whispers like a vow, like a prayer, like forever.

You dig your toes into the bench and swallow a hiccup. “Don’t,” your protest is weak, and you blame it on your sore throat. “You can’t say shit like that. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” Stiles rubs a hand over his face. He’s in need of a shave, you notice, or…maybe not. You kind of like the stubble the more you get used to it—your tipsy, sleep-deprived mind stupidly wonders what it’d feel like between your thighs. Stiles sighs, returning your attention to far more unpleasant thoughts, “But I just want to.” He leans onto his palms and tips his head back between his shoulders, shaking his head at the ceiling. “I just wanna say it all, all the things I thought while you were gone. Knew I would the second I saw you.”

“You’re—” your tongue is thick as you struggle for words over the conflicting emotions wrangling each other in your throat, “you’re so fuckin’—you can’t just come here and act like—” You rub aggressively at your eyes and push yourself to your feet, “You need to go, Stiles. I want you to go.”

Stiles stands with you and cards his fingers through his hair. It’s long, curling around his ears, and you turn your gaze away from him, staring at the wall and digging your fingers into your forearms to stop yourself from reaching for him. “Can we just…talk?” he whispers, whether it’s for his sake or yours, you’re not entirely sure. He looks small, scared, but you can’t tell if he’s afraid for you or of you. “Just for a little bit. I need…I just need another minute. That’s all, and then I’ll go. Promise.”

I need. I need. I need. It’s always what he needs on his time. You cross the floor with wild eyes and snap, “What do you want to talk about? Huh? How you left me for someone else, or how I’m such a fucking whore for moving on?”

He grits his teeth and grabs your wrists, long fingers overlapping around the delicate bones when you try to yank away from his firm grip. “You think this is what I want?” He doesn’t yell. Somehow, that’s worse. “You think I like being like this? Every time someone fucking touches you I want to rip their hands off!”

You thrash in Stiles’s arms, and his pained expression is blurry through your wet glare, “You had me! I was yours! I was so fucking in love with you, and then you—you just ended it and moved on, like it was nothing.” Your chest heaves, a stark contrast to the gentle quiver in your bottom lip. Your voice drops to something almost inaudible; it's the only way you can get through this while you're crying, the only way you can force the words through your tender throat, “Like I was nothing.”

Your cries turn into sobs when Stiles pulls you into his arms, and they wrack through your entire body when he kisses your hair and whispers sweet nonsense in your ear. You struggle for a moment longer, and then there's nothing left. You've given him everything. You sag into him, legs sinking with your full weight until he wraps his arms around your waist and presses you tighter to his chest. “I got scared,” Stiles whispers against the crown of your head when your cries peter into hiccups, and your next whimper shudders through your shoulders. He rests his palms against the small of your back and inhales the sweet scent of your shampoo, ducking his head down to kiss your forehead, “You were so far away, and so, so perfect, and I missed you all the fucking time.”

Stiles pauses, but it’s not for you. It’s a stall; you can feel his knee bounce and his fingers twitch. You wait, face buried in his collarbone, too busy trying to breathe to even think about speaking. After a moment, could’ve been seconds, could’ve been hours, he squeezes you—almost until it hurts, and it feels like he’s terrified that you’re just another one of the shadows on your bedroom walls. “I couldn’t ask you to transfer from Stanford to some fuckin’ state school in Virginia, so I fucked everything up ‘cause I guess...at least then it was my choice—and I know that just makes it worse. I know that. Because that means I chose to ruin it, I decided to hurt you…and I’m so fucking sorry. Just so unbelievably, life-ruiningly sorry.”

And there it is. The apology you’ve been waiting for, dreaming of, fantasizing about in every shower, in every cafe line, in every early morning class—and it’s just so…hollow. It sits between the two of you, heavy and horridly inadequate. “You found someone else,” you whimper into his shoulder, clasping at his t-shirt and wetting the white collar with your tears and runny nose—and you wish, more than anything, that this could be enough. “How could you find someone else that quickly?”

Stiles freezes, stops rubbing your back and rocking you from side-to-side, and it’s just jarring enough to remind yourself how dangerous it is to be in his arms. You step back and wrap your arms around yourself instead, and Stiles watches you with something hopeless all over his face. “I was just trying to prove that I didn’t make the biggest fucking mistake of my life,” he says, but he says it to his shoes. You wonder who he’s hiding from: himself or you. “Didn’t work, obviously.”

You just stare at him, arms limp by your sides, and shake your head a little. “What are you doing here, Stiles?” your voice is clotted with mucus and defeat, and it breaks halfway through along with your knees. You lean against the wall and close your lids so that you don’t have to see his eyes: so vast, so deep, so damn pretty—you’re suffocating in them. “What do you want from me?”

He’s relentless. Stiles steps forward, and there’s nowhere for you to go. “I want you.” And that’s the thing, isn’t it? There’s the rub. It’s always hunger, no sating. No happy ending.

“Nothing’s changed.” You tilt your head and wring your fingers in the hem of your t-shirt, tugging every so often, “I’m still going back to Stanford, and you’re still going back east in the fall.” UPenn. Criminology, obviously. You never got the chance to congratulate him.

“I know,” he’s right in front of you now, waiting for you to push him away. You don’t.

The back of your head hits the wall as you tip your chin up to look at him, “And I have Theo, and you have…her.”

“I know,” he braces his hands next to the sides of your head, watching your lips move without any shame, breath hot against your skin.

“Stiles…” you plead with him through your lashes, asking for mercy, on hands and knees begging him to turn around and leave.

“Tell me you don’t want me.” Stiles rests his forehead against yours, “Tell me it’s over, and there’s nothing I can do to fix this.”

“You already know,” you close your eyes and shake your head, nose rubbing against his, “you know I’d be lying.”

“You love me.” It’s not a question. He knows. He’ll always know.

You shake your head again, and Stiles can taste the salt on your lips, “Doesn’t matter.”

“I love you,” Stiles whispers, carding his fingers through your hair.

“Too late,” your lips brush against his, feather-light, and catch on the chapped center of his mouth.

He kisses you, cups your jaw like you’re ineffably precious, and you feel like you can breathe for the first time in months. Stiles tilts his head a little, and his tongue is gentle in its prodding, almost sweet—but he grabs onto your hips like he wants to eat you alive. You just might let him, you think, when you feel his stubble scrape against your neck as he trails a balmy line of kisses towards your collarbone.

You wind your fingers in his hair and tug to keep yourself on your feet. “We ca—ah,” he licks along your pulse, on purpose, and you shiver, “we can’t do this.”

Stiles hums against your cheek. “And yet, here I am, sliding my hands under your shirt, trying to cop a feel.” His fingers dip under your shirt. They’re cold on your bare stomach, and you flinch a little. Dizzyingly, you remember where you are, who you’re with, and who's going to text you in the morning to make sure you’re okay.

“We really can’t do this,” you whisper, slipping your hands from his hair to his arms. You pull them away gently and tip your head back from his persistent mouth, “I’m not going to hurt Theo the way you hurt me, and I’m not going to let you do this to someone else.”

“It’s not the same,” he says, gravelly and thick. He turns away from you, paces the length of your room a few times, and throws his hands around like he can change your mind if he gestures hard enough, “You know it’s not the same.” Stiles stops abruptly and shakes his head, seemingly at nothing—and then he’s back in front of you before you can catch your breath. He places his hands on your shoulders and then slides his palms to your biceps, just holding onto you. Not clutching, not squeezing, just a light touch that you can’t seem to break away from.

“You’ve been my best friend for 15 years,” Stiles licks his bottom lip, and you watch him with wide eyes and a blitzing heart, “and I’ve loved you for well over half of ‘em—just plain wanted you even longer.” He slips his hand down your arm to your hand and tangles his fingers with yours, lifting them to rest over his skittering heartbeat, “You’re mine, and I’m yours. That’s how it is. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it should be.”

You want to say it back, you do, but you just can’t. Not with all the unresolved details wriggling in your ear. “You brought her home, Stiles. You can’t just…just introduce her to your dad and cheat on her all in the same day.”

“Technically, cheat on and then dump,” he tries to smile, but it’s not convincing. Not with the guilt dimming his eyes.

“That’s not funny,” you snap, but the guilt is good. He wouldn’t be the man you know, the boy you grew up with, if he didn’t feel at least a little guilty about the whole thing.

“Dad’s out of town,” Stiles admits quietly, and for some reason, that means more to you than his apology, than his kisses, than his hand in yours. You didn’t realize how much the thought had been bothering you until now—destroying you one post at a time. “I only brought her because I knew you were going to be here with…him.” He shrugs a little, “Frankly, I think she knows. She aced behavioral science.”

You roll your eyes and huff, “You’re an asshole.”

“I know,” he concedes and kisses the back of your hand, continuing along the row of your knuckles, “but I’m in love with you, and it’s become abundantly clear that I always will be.”

Your bottom lip trembles with the desire to give in to what you want, but your hand twists away from him with what you know is right—even though it feels so horrendously wrong. “I can’t do this to him, Stiles. He’s been through so much, and he’s been so good to me, and he’s trying so hard to—”

“But you don’t love him!” Stiles hisses. It’s the loudest he’s been all night, but you don’t flinch from the volume. It’s the truth of it all, the vile honestly you can’t hide from that makes you recoil.

You look at the ceiling through your lashes, an old trick to fight the tears welling in your tear ducts. Some girl in middle school told you about it in the bathroom, and you try to remember her name and what cloying body spray she was spritzing instead of thinking about how easy it would be to let Stiles crawl into your bed and make you forget about everyone and everything that isn’t him. “I should,” you finally murmur throatily, biting on your lip, “maybe I could…someday.”

Stiles whips his head towards your face and takes a little stumbling step backwards, “You don’t believe that.” You’re sure that he wishes he sounded more confident, but he gives himself away with the hand rubbing the back of his neck, “Say you don’t believe that.”

“You need to go, Stiles.” You clutch at your arm with your other hand and step back towards your bed, further away from him and the wet film over his eyes. “I’m serious. I need you to leave.”

He opens his mouth and then scrubs his arm over his face, wiping away the incriminating wet gleam on his cheeks with the sleeve of his flannel. “Okay,” his throat bobs with the strength of his swallow, “yeah, okay.”

You wait until he reaches your bedroom door to crawl onto your bed. You curl in on yourself, like a child, ad press your face into your legs, your knees to your chest, your back against the headboard—but Stiles pauses before you can really fall apart.

Stiles rests his hand against the doorframe and chews on his cheek, on his words, on the thought of you, and then he says, “I’m still breaking up with her. You don’t…you don’t owe me anything—that’s fucking putting it lightly, I know—but I’m still breaking up with her.” He lifts a shoulder and smiles, a little sad but so true, “There’s no one else for me. There’s never going to be anyone else…just thought you should know.”

He’s gone by the time you look up from your kneecaps. Good. You were this close to giving in. This close to throwing yourself over the edge for someone who’s dropped once before, and you’re still cleaning up the mess he left behind. You should be proud of yourself, happy that you weren’t weak enough to say yes, yes, a million, billion, trillion times yes.

But you aren’t, and you hate yourself for it.

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