#i keep covering for her because i do feel bad for her but its gotten a bit too excessive that maybe i have to be more straightforward

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hey! Can I request an Xavier x yn where she’s helping Enid, Wednesday and Tyler at the gates house and she ends up getting hurt by the monster, and when Xavier pops up he goes crazy on Wednesday because yn is basically all he has and he’s in love with her and he tells wednesday this when yelling at her, and he carry’s yn to the hospital or whatever and Wednesday eventually apologizes.

Idk you can add to it if you want. I can picture it in my head more than I can type it out lol

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

The monster got you good. You almost got away through the stairs, but it got you with its claws mid-way, grasping you by the leg and tearing three deep excruciatingly painful gashes on your thigh.

Your screams of terror had echoed through the Gates mansion, sending chills up Enid and Wednesday's backs. They wanted to come and help you, but the monster went to the basement and they were forced to leave through one of the windows.

When the house fell into a silence, you pushed yourself up despite the pain in your thigh and limped out of the house. The monster had gotten out, but there was a chance it would come back. They always come back to finish the prey they left behind.

Orienting yourself in the dark was not your strong point, but you tried to remember where you all came from. You reached for your phone to call Enid, but it was not in your pocket. You must have lost it in the Gates mansion.

You had to hold on to some trees to keep you from falling from the pain, bleeding more and more at every step.

Tonight was supposed to be a girls night out to celebrate Wednesday’s birthday, not an investigation in an abandoned house turning into an attack. You didn’t want to blame your injury on Wednesday, but if she had been honest about tonight, you would’ve never accompanied her. You would’ve never gotten hurt.

And your favorite coat would not be stained with blood.

A flashlight flashed in your eyes, blinding you and making you lose your balance. You fell and landed on dead leaves and dirt, furthermore staining your coat. A pained hiss left your lips, your bad leg coming in contact with the ground.

‘’Y/N!’’ Wednesday said, running over to you with Enid following behind. She lowered her flashlight when she got to you, noticing you were injured. ‘’Can you walk?’’

‘’A little, but it’s hard,’’ you replied.

You had already lost a lot of blood and more walking would mean losing more blood. You didn’t know how much more you could lose before it would be life-threatening, but the closest hospital was too far to risk it.

Footfalls caused Wednesday to whirl around, ready to blind whoever was coming. Much to you all’s relief, it was only Xavier. Thing had spilled on your whereabouts and his instinct told him to go to the Gates mansion.

‘’Where do you come from?’’ Wednesday asked. ‘’Have you been following us?’’

Her accusation went ignored, Xavier’s eyes falling on you and immediately filling with worry. ‘’What happened to her?’’ He pushed past Enid and Wednesday and kneeled beside you, seeing the blood on your coat.

You reached for him, immediately feeling safer in his presence.

‘’The monster got her,’’ Enid explained as Xavier removed his scarf and tied it around your thigh to calm the bleeding. Although she wasn’t injured, her hands were trembling, still shaken by the encounter with the monster.

Wednesday continued, tilting the light to your thigh so Xavier would see. ‘’We split inside the Gates mansion to cover more ground. Enid and I took the upper floor and she and Tyler the first. The monster found us and she got attacked and—’’

‘’How many people have to get hurt before you get the answers you need?’’

‘’This was not supposed to happen.’’ Wednesday defended. ‘’And we didn’t do this for nothing. Enid and I found the missing body parts. I’m so close to solving the mystery.’’

‘’This is not one of your murder-mystery books, this is real life. Real people are getting hurt because of you, Wednesday. Y/N could have died tonight because of your stupid obsession.’’ Xavier tilted his head at her blonde roommate. ‘’Everytime you get involved, people get hurt. Look what happened to Eugene. Look at Enid. She might not have gotten physically hurt, but she is visibly frightened.’’

Enid’s eyes were down when Wednesday glanced at her, unable to look at her. She opened her mouth to speak, to apologize, but no words came out.

With Xavier’s help, you stood but didn’t put weight on your bad leg. You tried to walk, but almost collapsed. Thankfully, Xavier had your back and caught you.

‘’I don't think I can walk,’’ you concluded, grimacing from the pain.

‘’I have an idea. If we find Tyler, we could take his car and—’’ Wednesday suggested, but Xavier cut her off.

‘’No! You stay away from her,’’ he warned, very angry at the raven haired girl. Beside her, Enid jumped, having never seen her classmate get mad before. She would not want to be in Wednesday’s shoes. ‘’I’ll manage. She got hurt because of you and if you come near her, things might get worse. All you ever do is make things worse.’’

‘’Xavier,’’ you said, curling your fingers on his coat, both to hold yourself up and calm him down. Wednesday deserved to be held accountable for her wrongs and understand the pain she is causing to the people around her, but he was being a little harsh.

Xavier snaked an arm behind you, holding you close. ‘’She’s all I have and if I lose her...’’ He felt his throat close and stopped himself with a shake of his head, chasing these dark thoughts away. ‘’This is all your fault, Wednesday.’’

Guilt was starting to hit Wednesday, but she was so unfamiliar with the feeling that she didn’t recognize it. She stayed silent, watching as Xavier gently scooped you into his arms, concluding that this was the only way you would make it out of the woods and to the academy’s infirmary. He wasn’t the strongest, but the academy is not too far.

You wrapped your arms around your best friend's neck, allowing your head to rest on his shoulder. Tiredness was starting to hit you, but you fought it.

‘’You coming?’’ Xavier asked Enid before departing.

She nodded, the three of you leaving Wednesday by herself in the woods.

—

Wednesday taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n  @poppet05  @ell0ra-br3kk3r  @rhaenyraswife  @teaganthemorningstar   @aphex2winn @moompie   @ifevilwhyhot @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo @theyslayallday @wrldofsage @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx

[idiacide]

Howdy do~! I’ve got a fluff/angst headcanon in mind: The dorm leaders’ (including Jamil’s) fem! s/o suddenly wakes up screaming in the middle of the night because of a traumatic nightmare of them Overblotting. As she wakes up, she tearfully tells them she’s scared of losing them a second time. How do they comfort her? Please and thanks!

Since we haven't gotten a canon overblot for Idia or Malleus yet (CHAPTER 6 SPOILERS especially since Idia look like his might be a fusion with his brother if not just. Ortho.) I'm gonna be leaving them off of this

Riddle Rosehearts: -Riddle has his own nightmares about the Overblot. He's a person who values control so so aggressively, and in that moment he almost lost it enough to destroy everything he holds dear. Including you. Its not uncommon for him to wake up with his own cold sweats.

-His solution is, once you're past blind panic, to get some tea for the both of you and talk it over. Riddle always handles you gently, is always so careful of your emotions that at times its like he's afraid you'll shatter to pieces. At times like this, though, its a blessing.

-(If things are really bad: playing with the hedgehogs always makes him feel calm. He is not above breaking the rules to bring them into bed for a little while)

-He'll apologize as many times as you can bear to hear (and even a few times you can't), but most of all he wants to reassure you that he's not the person who went that berserk. He's learning how to rely on others. While he has you, has Trey, has Cater and Ace and Deuce and all the rest. He has the support he needs to keep from slipping again.

-He doesn't begrudge you the time you need to feel safe, and is here to walk you through it for as long as it takes. Its the least he can do.

"There's never been a darker moment in my entire life, and I can't express enough remorse that this was how you had to see me. But you were my light even then, and continue to be. Believe in me the way I believe in you, and I promise those fears will someday disappear."

Leona Kingscholar: -Leona's way of coping with the Overblot. Is to functionally pretend it never happened.

-Not to say he doesn't have regrets. He does, especially towards you and Ruggie. It was one of his lowest moments and he's not proud of how he treated anyone involved just to protect his damn ego. But he's the kind of guy who wants to show you who he is, not tell you. You find the apologies in the day to day actions, in the little ways he looks out for you and puts in the effort to do better, to distance himself more and more from the guy who did that.

-All this to say, when you wake him up screaming, he's pissed for reasons that have nothing to do with his sleeping hours being interrupted. Teeth-grinding furious at himself, at Crowley, at Falena, at everything that has the slightest bit to do with why you're covered in sweat and bawling like a wounded cub.

-His instinct is to pin you down, hold you under himself until you're calm enough to absorb what he says. Head tucked into his shoulder as he hushes you, and an unusually gentle hand carding through your hair while he mumbles for you to breath.

-He's not a guy for promises. Too much in life is uncertain. But when you've managed to relax a little, he can't stop himself from making a few. The King of Beasts was known for his tenacity, for his refusal to turn back in the face of adversity. In this case, he'll make sure he carries that legacy with everything he's got in him.

"Counting me out already, herbivore? Rookie mistake. You're not gettin rid of me that easy. So get some sleep, alright? I'm never gonna let that happen. To you or to me."

Azul Ashengrotto: -Azul was so far down the barrel of an honest to god nervous breakdown during his Overblot that he's managed to block most of his memories of the event. The tweels are more than happy to regale him with the gory details, mortifyingly enough, but other than a lingering sense of panic he doesn't have much to emotionally attach to the memory.

-Thus, he's a little ill-equipped for when you wake up screaming. He's ashamed of what happened, of course, and more than a little spikey when reminded of it. But ultimately, he's an otherwise very talented and disciplined magician. Those were extraordinary circumstances, do you honestly think so little of him as to assume he'll fall prey to it again?

-Fortunately, the larger part of his brain understands that your reaction comes from a place of love, not condescension. Once you're past the worst of it, he gently suggests coming with him to the Lounge kitchens to let him fix you something to eat.

-He's primarily focused on distracting you for a while, making light conversation and generally trying to keep your mind off of it while he prepares your food. Once you've eaten enough and he's certain your reasonably calm, he'll lean into you, stroking your back gently as he kisses your cheek.

"I'll do what I must to alleviate those fears of yours. But don't trouble yourself worrying for me. With you at my side, I am more than ready to face any challenge this world could offer."

Jamil Viper: -Jamil has. A lot of unaddressed issues around his Overblot. Its been better for him to have everything out in the open. There's a catharsis in feeling like he can speak his mind to Kalim, in cutting himself free from the expectations of his parents to excel where he can. And yet the thing that nags at him is that the material conditions haven't changed. His family is still in servitude. He will still have to wrestle with Kalim's position over him, maybe even for the rest of his life.

-All this to say that there's a lot of resentment that surges up in him when he's reminded.

-His focus remains on calming you, holding you close and stroking your head as he hushes you. His body rocks in time with yours, and the smell of him is incredibly calming.

-Though not everything has been fixed, he tells you he has no interest in returning to that state again. Not knowing how deeply it hurt you, not knowing what he almost lost. He's learned taking steps like that don't solve anything, they just drive the people that do care away from you.

-He is happy, truly happy, by your side. And that is never something he takes lightly.

"Treasure like yourself are too rare to squander, and I am too conscious of their value to give them up lightly. I've made you doubt so much. But never doubt my love for you, or how far I will go to make sure it stays secure."

Vil Schoenheit: Like Azul, the primary emotion Vil feels regarding his Overblot is largely embarrassment. Such an amateur move, to allow himself to be overcome like that, and its only made more humiliating by having the one he values so dearly see him at his worst.

-Still, though, he understands immediately where the fear stems from. He is still, at the end of the day, himself. He's still far too driven for his own good, still prone to fixate on his own ideals of perfection. With that in mind, its only natural that you would worry.

-Vil relaxes best in a luxurious bath, and if you're interested he's happy to draw one up for the both of you. Never one to skip out on the luxuries, he somehow manages to find rose petals and candles at this time of night. Despite your earlier fears its hard to feel too nervous submerged in warm water and watching his beautiful face reflect the glow of the firelight.

-He waits till you're both in the bath to talk it over. He's quite calm throughout, helping you identify the root of the fear and follow it until its logical conclusion, while prompting you here and there to ask if there's something he can do currently to set your mind at ease.

-Mostly, though, he's content to spoil you for the evening, gentle attention paid to your skin, your face, everything about you is doted on and cared for with practiced grace. He goes on until you're so relaxed that he has to scold you about not falling asleep in the tub.

-Wrapped back in fresh pajamas and ready for bed, he murmurs one final assurance while your consciousness holds on.

"I've been too careless with your heart before, and I don't make the same mistake twice. I may not deserve it. But for the love you have for me, trust me to do better. And sleep well."

[angelst4re]

I have a request but also i just wanna say i love your writing sooo much 🙁 it makes me really warm and soft and you’re so sweet, keep going with the amazing job bestie ilysm!!! The request I have IS !! Reader and Jamie are dating and she’s sleeping at his house and its pouring rain outside. She says she’s tired and will take a shower, Jamie asks if he can join her, she’s reluctant at first because they’ve never seen each other naked before and she’s really insecure w her body but she says yes. They go to take a shower HOWEVER things started heating up, they get out of the shower and end up having sex for the first time?? And Jamie is like super careful with her and lotsss of aftercare!!! Thank you 💖

omg hello lovely!! you're so sweet :') this idea was so <33 and because autumn has just began in my country this felt like the best time to post this... i love it so much!!

Afterglow- Jamie Campbell Bower x Reader

summary: read the request! :)

warnings: NSFW!! contains smut, please don't read if you're uncomfortable my loves!!

note: I HIT 400 FOLLOWERS WHILST I WAS GONE THIS WEEK??? I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH OMG MWAH <33 also, yes the title is a taylor swift reference! :)

The tv was playing quietly in the background of the dimly lit room as you snuggled up to Jamie on his bed, under the comfy white covers. He played with your hair as you told him about your day, the customers you encountered at work, the gossip you shared at the coffee machine, and he listened to every word, genuinely enjoying the stories you told, along with your company and the weight of you on top of him brought him comfort. 

The rain was falling quite heavy now, you had even gotten caught in it on your way to your boyfriend’s house, but it wasn’t so bad then. It was a perfect autumn evening. When you got to Jamie’s house he had already made you a hot chocolate and set it down with a slice of cake he had bought you from a nearby coffee shop. The small gesture made you smile, feeling warm inside as he kissed your forehead with a small ‘I love you.’ 

Your head was currently resting on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as your finger traced one of the tattoos on his arm. He was quite literally a work of art. His hand came down to the small of your back, where he traced small patterns through your (his!) t-shirt. You relaxed into his touch, and that’s when the tiredness began to hit you. 

“I should probably take a shower before we sleep,” you say with a yawn, pushing lightly against his chest so you could sit up, “I won’t be too long.”

“Mind if I join you, sweetheart?” He asks sweetly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Um… I’m not sure, Jamie.” You say with a frown, you felt bad saying no as it was his house, but he had never seen you fully naked before. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just thought it’d be nice.” He says with a smile. Who were you to deny this beautiful man? 

“I do, I do want you to. I’m just worried you won’t…”

“Like what I see? Darling, the way your body looks isn’t going to stop me from loving you. That’s impossible!” He says, taking my hand in his and rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “Go turn the shower on, love. I’ll grab some towels.”

You go into his bathroom and take a deep breath. He was finally going to see you. All of you. As much as it worried you, it also brought you happiness as it showed he was comfortable to do this with you. 

You did as he asked, and got the water ready, turning it to a nice temperature where it wasn’t too hot, nor too cold. You weren’t too sure whether to undress now or not. How would he feel if he came back to see you naked? Would he turn around and say he changed his mind? Would he-

“Got the towels!” He returned, placing them down beside the sink. “Ready?” He asked. 

You nod your head as he takes off his t-shirt, yet you can’t manage to lift your arms to begin undressing. You were too nervous, you didn’t think you could do this. When he was stripped down to his boxers, he realised you were still fully dressed. 

“Darling, you can’t shower in your clothes!” He chuckled, before noticing your demeanour. He walked towards you, placing his hands on your waist before whispering, “would you like a hand?”

You nod your head, not sure what else to do at this moment. His hands come to the bottom of your top, lifting it over your head gently before throwing it back to the corner where his clothes lay in a pile. He then began to slide your shorts down your legs, crouching down to help you step out of them, leaving him eye-level with your heat. Before coming back up, he places a hot, wet kiss at the top of your thigh, almost causing your knees to buckle. 

He smirks as he stands back up, noticing how you gasped at the feeling. 

“Can I take this off?” He asks, reaching to the back of your bra. When you say yes, he skillfully unclasps it, slowly sliding the straps down your shoulders, almost to brace himself before revealing your breasts to him. “You’re so, so beautiful, y/n.” He says, looking into your eyes. 

His hands slide down your body, from your back to your stomach, hips, thighs and knees as he crouches back down again, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your underwear. He looks up at you for permission before he slowly slides them down your legs. You now stood fully exposed above him, and it took everything inside him to not dip a finger into your glistening heat. 

“Jamie,” you said, although it came out as more of a whimper, “we’re wasting water. Let’s get in the shower.”

He stands back up and you are already under the water, letting it flow through your hair and down your body, sighing into the warmth it gives you. He quickly removed his boxers before joining you. 

You feel his arms wrap around you from behind, his lips finding the sweet spot on your neck as you giggle at the feeling of his hair on the delicate skin. As he places soft kisses to your neck, you take his right hand, which is resting on your tummy, and bring it down slowly until it rests between your thighs. 

“Feel how bad I need you?” You pant, your arm coming up to pull him closer, to connect your lips. 

“But we’re wasting water.” He smirks devilishly, tracing his middle finger in circles around your clit before pulling it away. “Let’s shower first, baby, then I’ll give you what you want. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you whimper, pulling him so he was under the water with you, “that’s okay.”

He smiles before picking up the shampoo bottle, you were a little too excited to smell like him. He always smells heavenly, you just assumed you smelt normal- but Jamie would definitely disagree. He poured some of the shampoo into one of his hands before rubbing them together and massaging the bubbles into your scalp. His hands worked wonders, you wished he would always wash your hair for you. 

When he was finished, he ran his fingers through your hair, helping to wash the bubbles out. You then turned around and returned the favour, rubbing the shampoo into his hair, although he had to bend down slightly for you to reach. He giggled at the sight of you on your tiptoes, concentrating on your face as your hands worked into his hair. 

After you were both clean, Jamie stepped out of the shower first and wrapped you up in one of his fluffy grey towels, before wrapping himself up. As you made your way back to the bedroom, he spun you around and his lips crashed into yours. 

You let out a small moan into the kiss as you feel your towel slipping down, about to reveal your body to him once more, and you couldn’t wait. You pull back from the kiss with a smile on your face as you drop the towel to the ground, tugging on his to tell him to do the same. 

And he does, he lets it fall to the ground before climbing onto the bed, pulling you with him. You smiled briefly as you straddled his hips, before he pulled you back down for a kiss. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, “I’m so, so lucky.”

You moved your lips down his jaw and to his neck, placing hot, open mouth kisses on the skin. At the same time, you take his hand and lift it up to your breast, as if you were inviting him to touch you. He massages the soft flesh, tracing a finger over your nipple which causes a shiver to run down your spine. He does the same to your other boob when he was satisfied enough, and by the time he was done you were unknowingly rolling your hips against him, grinding against his hardening length. 

“I’m gonna flip us over, is that okay?” He asked, placing a kiss on your shoulder. You nod your head and in a blink of an eye you were now against the pillows, underneath Jamie. 

He goes back to kissing your lips, gliding his tongue along your bottom lip to ask for entrance, whilst his hands were on your hips, rubbing circles with his thumb. You part your lips, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. 

“Jamie,” you gasp, feeling breathless, “please… touch me.”

“I am touching you, darling.” He chuckles. 

“No…” You whine, taking his hand and slowly leading it down your body, between your thighs, “touch me here, where it feels good.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, pulling back to look at you, to check for any signs of hesitation on your face, “and if this leads to us… making love…”

“Yes, I want to. If that’s okay with you?” 

“Of course, baby, of course,” his lips return to the skin of your neck and begin to kiss down your body, “if you would like me to stop at any time please tell me, okay?” You nod your head but he wasn’t satisfied, he needed verbal approval.

“Okay…” You whimper, feeling his breath fanning on your heat as he spreads your legs further, letting him see everything you had to offer. 

You looked down at him, his head between your thighs. It made your mind feel fuzzy, even more so when his finger dipped into you, the tip of his finger tracing your dripping hole before spreading the arousal up to your clit, tracing small circles on the nub that caused your mouth to form an ‘O’ shape as you sucked in your breath. 

“That feels good, hm?” He asked, placing sloppy kisses on your inner thigh, “what if I…” 

You felt something warm and wet flat against your clit, you didn’t need to look down to realise it was his tongue. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he uses the muscle to play with your clit, tracing circles around it and going side to side. When he wrapped his lips around the nub, suckling on it, you let out an unexpected moan and dig your nails into the bedsheets. 

As he continues the assault on your clit, his finger comes back to your hole, gently easing it in before pulling it back out, adding another finger which easily slipped in beside the first, your wetness beginning to drip down onto the sheets. 

It doesn’t take long for you to approach your high, he can tell by the way your cunt pulsed around his fingers, and the way you were squirming above him. Your arm reached down and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist. 

“Jamie… mm stop…” You whine, trying your hardest not to throw your head back and cum right there and then. He places a kiss on your thigh and pulls his fingers out. 

“Everything okay?” He asked, his eyes meeting yours. 

“Yeah, I just… wanted to cum… with you…” You pant, your hand moving to cup his cheek. “Please, I need to feel you, Jamie.” 

He smiles, placing a kiss on your clit before moving back up, his face inches above yours. You feel his hardness press against your thigh, and you sigh, wanting nothing more than to move your hips to the left slightly so he would slip in…

“I want to take this at your pace, okay?” He takes his cock into his hand, giving it a few tugs before lining it up with you, coating it in your arousal. “If I’m going too slow, tell me to go faster. If I’m going too fast, tell me to slow down.”

“Okay,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in his damp hair as he buries his face in your neck. As the tip of his dick pushes into you, you let out a pained whine, but he rubs your hip in an attempt to soothe you. 

“Shh, you’re doing so well for me, darling. I know it hurts, I know,” he pushed in a little further, “hold on to my shoulders, baby. The pain will go away soon, I promise, sweetheart.”

And then he was all the way in. You both stayed still for a moment as he sucked on to the delicate skin of your neck, your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. You took a deep breath and tried to stop your pussy clenching around him, it only caused more pain for you and he found it difficult to keep his hips still. 

“I’m ready.” You whimper, holding tightly onto his shoulders to brace yourself. He placed gentle kisses along your collarbone and whispered praises as he began to move, pulling himself out half-way before pushing back in. You whine out in pleasure as he hits deeper and deeper with each thrust. 

“Darling, you feel heavenly…” He says between kisses as he peppers them across your cheek, “you’re doing so well for me, baby.”

“I love you.” You whimper as you feel his cock brush against the spongy spot inside of you, causing you to babble and think out loud, “mm, I love you so much.”

“I love you more, darling.” He says, looking you in the eye, an innocent smile on his face as his thrusts pick up the pace, his hand coming down to where your bodies were connected, “I’m close, are you close, love?” 

You nod your head, feeling a white heat flood your body, a knot forming in your belly as his fingers toyed with your clit. 

“Gonna cum, Jamie…”

“Hold it, baby. Can you… hold it, for me?”

You nod your head, he knew you were on birth control, and you let him know it was okay for him to finish inside you. He wouldn’t have done so if you didn’t tell him you wanted it. 

“Let go, dear. Cum for me, you’ve been so good, please…” He moaned, his thrusts becoming slower and sloppy. 

You let go, the wave of ecstasy flowing through your veins and before you can come down, you feel him come undone inside you. You whimper at the feeling of his warm seed coating your walls, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders once more. 

He flops down beside you, pulling you as close to him as he could, your face resting on his chest, listening to his racing heart. 

“That was so amazing,” you whisper after a few moments of silence, “that was, uh… my first time, ever.”

“Well I’m glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart. I did too.” He smiles against your forehead before placing a kiss there, brushing away your damp hair. “How about I get you cleaned up and everything, then we cuddle in bed with another hot chocolate? How does that sound?”

“Wonderful.” You say with a small giggle, still basking in the afterglow of your high. 

Jamie slips on some boxers and wanders to the bathroom, coming back with a damp cloth to wipe you down with. He then hands you some spare underwear that you kept at his house, along with a comfy hoodie of his. After getting dressed, you go to the bathroom to pee (because we don’t want a uti!) whilst Jamie goes downstairs to make hot chocolates. Once you were finished, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Was your skin glowing?

When you finally came back to the bedroom, you noticed Jamie had also changed the bedsheet. You climb in beside him and snuggle up into his side, the warmth of his body, along with his scent, was so comforting. 

He kisses your forehead as you wrap an arm around him, smiling into his chest as his hand slides under your (his!) hoodie to rest on your lower back, rubbing soothing circles onto your skin. 

“I meant it,” you say after a few moments of silence, “I love you, Jamie.”

“And I meant it too, darling. I love you more.”

[ronoken]

There’s Something Off About Your Roommate

There’s something off about your roommate.

You two met a couple months ago when she applied for the sublease position. At the time, you were so happy to see Brad leave you didn’t care who replaced him. Hell, you practically boxed up his shitty Playstation games and half-naked posters yourself. Watching him leave was the end of two failed years of trying to keep a relationship on life support. His slamming the door was the merciful pulling of the plug.

But that left you with a double rent payment. So, like any college student with low self-preservation and even less money, you put out an ad for a roomie. The apartment was a two bedroom and with Brad gone, the “game room” as he’d called it was vacant. All you needed for premed was your bookshelf, your tiny glass top desk and your sticker-covered laptop. Well, all that and fifty thousand dollars, but that was beside the point.

When Lilith answered the ad, she’d done so in person, and after you’d gotten home from a double at the Starbucks near the Village. Weird that she couldn’t wait, but hey, she had cash in hand. She was the quiet type, with long black hair and large green eyes that darted around, soaking in everything about your microscopic living space. She didn’t smile much, and she didn’t have much stuff, but she could pay the sublease in its entirety and promised to stay out of your hair. She seemed a little off, but hey, who were you to judge?

Lilith didn’t strike you as a party animal, but she was definitely a night owl. You almost never saw her during the day. She kept her door closed and she carried her toiletries with her in a small pink plastic basket, so nothing was ever left in the bathroom. She never touched your food and kept hers to one side of the fridge in a pile that never seems to change.

There was never a mess left out. The living room always looked untouched when you came home. In fact, she was so good about not being present that you were beginning to clean up after yourself more just because of how self-conscious her neatness was making you feel. It was a drastic but welcome change from the gross hair clippings and half-empty beer cans of the Brad era.

Sometimes you’d hear Lilith go out at night. Sometimes you’d try to catch her, but more often than not she’d sneak out while you were in the bathroom or studying with your door shut. In fact, in those first two months, you felt like you could count on one hand how many times you’d interacted with Lilith in the living room. She never wanted to watch any TV, never seemed to get any calls, nothing. She seemed to be allergic to media.

***

The first time your perception shifts from “I have a very private roomie” to “something seems off” is in the kitchen. It’s nearly midnight, and you are woken from your hunched position at your desk by a cry of pain. You know the difference. There’s a distinct sound people make when they’re hurt as opposed to surprised or scared. You’d made that same noise too many times in the last two years not to recognize it.

You find Lilith near the stove, clutching her hand and hissing to herself. You instantly see her palm was burned, and being you, you don’t waste any time. She only notices your presence when you take her ice-cold hand and half-drag her to the sink to run some water over it.

“Sorry,” she keeps mumbling. “I wasn’t paying attention. You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.”

Her voice is scratchy, like she hadn’t used it in a while. You almost have to strain over the sound of the running water to understand what she is saying.

“No big deal,” you tell her. You flash a smile and examine the wound. The burn looks bad. She must have grabbed something hot from the stove and not noticed what she was doing until it was too late. “That’s pretty nasty. Wait here. I’ll go get the first aid kit.”

“You really don’t need to. It’s my fault,” Lilith starts. You hold up a hand and shake your head.

“I said it’s no biggie. Now wait here.” You barely register the clamshell headphone case your foot bumped as you make your way to the linen closet for your first aid kit. When you come back to the kitchen properly armed to treat a wound, you find Lilith trying to rip open the thick plastic packaging with her bare hands. She’s in the process of gnawing on it when she sees you and blushes.

“Those things are terrible,” you say. “Here, let me grab a knife.”

Lilith jerks towards you, but then pulls back. She eyes the silverware drawer nervously as you root around for a sharp steak knife. That’s when you notice one of the nice ones your mom sent you off to school with on the floor. “Were you trying to get it open with this?”

Lilith nods. “I wasn’t paying attention and, well…” she rubs her hand.

You shrug it off. It’s clear your roomie isn’t used to person-time. “These things can be slippery. I think they’re too nice, but they were a gift. Here.” You cut through the clamshell packaging and hand her the set of green ear buds.

Lilith nods and mumbled a quick “thank you” as she stuffs the buds in her sweatpants pocket. You set to tending her wound and making sure she is wrapped properly. The entire time, Lilith squirms in place, but she doesn’t pull back.

“This is very kind of you,” she mutters. Her voice sounds like leaves rustling in a cold autumn breeze. Her skin is cool to the touch as you finish her wrappings.

“Please stop. We’re roomies. It’s totally cool. Besides, I’ve had practice.”

Lilith looks up from her hands as you roll up your sleeve to show her a splotch of smooth, pink flesh on our shoulder. “Iron. He was drunk and I was slow. It happens.”

Lilith reaches out to touch the wound, but then stops herself. She reminds you of a scared animal that’s trying to figure out if it can trust the person in front of it.

You can tell Lilith isn’t used to being social. You wonder how much more mental energy she has in the tank when you say, “hey, you wanna hang out? I know it’s late, but we could look for a movie. I’ve got Hulu.”

Lilith blinks in confusion and cocks her head. “What’s a Hulu?”

Before you can answer, she shakes her head and says, “I don’t… No, thank you. I need to go out.” She turns for the door, and you want to remind her that she’s in nothing but dark green sweats and a loose tank top, but hey, she’s an adult and it’s not like its winter out.

“You sure? I’ve got some ice cream,” you point to the freezer. This is the most effort you’ve made into trying to make nice with Lilith since she moved in, and you find yourself painfully aware that you’re failing miserably.

“Oh, um, no, thank you. I can’t eat that,” she says. “But, thank you? Maybe we can try some Hulu another night?”

Weird way of putting it, but hey, she didn’t completely shoot down your offer to hang out. Roommate points! And hey, so she’s lactose intolerant. No big deal. There are other desserts. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Cool.”

Her mouth quirks into a small smile at that, like she’s amused. “Cool,” she parrots. It almost feels like she’s trying the word out.

Before you know what’s happening, Lilith is sliding her earbuds out of her pocket and into her ears. She’s out the door in less than three seconds.

You turn to the kitchen to clean up, but that’s when you notice it. The stove is off. There’s no pot or pan out, and the sink is empty.

So, what did your roomie burn herself on?

***

The second time you notice something’s off is when you do your laundry. It’s a week later and despite your interaction, you still only see Lilith in passing. Before, it felt like she was actively avoiding being anywhere in the apartment you were, but now she’s leaving her room more, and least now she’s nodding at you. Yesterday, you found her examining a book on ancient Greece that you’d left on the coffee table. She’d looked up and nodded at you when you entered the room. That was becoming her thing in your eyes. Nodding.

You nod back. She smiles. Baby steps.

As you go to put your load into the tiny, stacked washer/dryer combo in the utilities closet, you notice something on the floor. Curious, you pick it up to find a white cotton tank top. You instantly clock it as Lilith’s as you don’t wear white tanks, but several times now you’ve seen Lilith wandering around in one.

Not this one, though. It’s completely stained with blood.

At first, you’re alarmed. This is considerably more than an okay amount of blood to be missing from a body, but then you remember she’d burned her hand, and she’d been wearing a tank top that night, and maybe she was a bleeder? Maybe she was also a bit sloppy about keeping her bandage on? To be fair, Lilith doesn’t strike you as being heavy into self-care, so it’s possible that’s what you’re seeing.

But it’s still a lot of blood.

You’ve got some whites that need washing, so you run a heavy bleach load and toss in her tank. Why not? It’s not like it’ll hurt anything.

When you fish it out of the dryer, it looks considerably better. It actually took two washes and a soak, but the blood stains seem to be gone. Happy with your work, you go to put the tank top on Lilith’s bed, but her door is locked. You knock, but there’s no response. You figure she’s either out or sleeping, so you hang the tank top from the door handle.

Later that night after your shift, you notice the tank top is gone. Also, there’s a post-it on your door that reads “Thank you.” 

You smile. This is progress.

***

It’s two nights later. You’re working a late shift and your coworker had to dip out due to tummy troubles. You're pretty sure that was code for meeting up with her boyfriend, but you can’t keep her there, and the manager isn’t answering their phone, so you’re stuck closing by yourself.

And the guy at the far table won’t leave.

He’s been watching you for forty-five minutes and you’re getting the Something Is Very Wrong vibe from him. He’s got that look, that full-eyed intense look you recognize. You’d seen it plenty of times on Brad when he was in the mood. It was the look that meant if you were lucky, you could talk yourself out of having to perform for the evening. But only if you were lucky.

And the guy at the far table is giving that look to you now.

It’s not quite ten but you’re fed up with this shit and wanting to get away from this creep and into a hot shower. You close out the register but keep the music on. With the music on, it doesn’t feel quite as uncomfortable.

“We’re closing, Sir. You’ll need to finish up and head out. Thanks for stopping by.”

Years of menial customer service shine through in your voice and posture. Your smile is a perfect mask for the “get the fuck out of here” that’s laced in the sweetness of your words. You hope he takes the hint.

He stares at you and looks around, and for a moment you wonder how fast you can sprint to the backroom. Then he drops a five on the table and shuffles out the door. You’re behind him in a second, locking the deadbolt and breathing a sigh of relief. You take a long time to wipe everything down, just in case someone is lingering. You play the counter music extra loud to keep your mind from lingering on how that look made you feel.

You really, really want that shower.

When you check the back exit, everything seems fine. You look around twice, making sure your surroundings are secure as you lock the door and pocket the keys. You slip your ear buds in and click on your playlist as you make it onto the main street. Home is five blocks away, three of which are bright. The last two aren’t, but that’s okay. You’ve got pepper spray.

At least, that’s the thought you have while, on that very bright street, someone grabs you from behind and drags you into a side alley. Their hand is over your mouth before you can scream. You drop your pepper spray as you claw and grab at the arm wrapped around your neck. Every lesson you’ve ever had about self-defense flies out the window as fear washes over you. It’s admittedly not a proud moment, but panic is a helluva thing, as you’re finding out.

Coffee shop guy throws you to the ground and you land hard. You feel the first few blows to the face, but then things go a bit numb and hazy. He’s saying something, but he boxed your ear and everything is kinda warbly. You’re pushing and shoving him away, but he’s using his weight and you know what’s coming. You’ve been in this situation before, but different. You don’t know this man. You’re not in your bed. You do your best to brace yourself. You close your eyes.

There’s a scream, and suddenly there isn’t any weight on you. You hear something that sounds like the grinding of peppercorns with your mother’s pepper shaker, and that’s when something warm sprays across you.

You open your eyes, and coffee shop guy is gone. You’re covered in something sticky and wet, and there’s a hand on the ground. 

It takes your mind a second to register that said hand isn’t attached to anything. It’s just there.

You scream and get the fuck out of there. Fuck this entire night.

When you get home and lock the door, you lean against it and feel that uncontrollable swift sobbing that comes with being overwhelmed. The entire ordeal took less than a minute, but you know you’re going to replay it in your mind on loop for the next six months.

When you finally collect yourself, you notice the door is smeared with something red where you’d leaned against it. You reach out to touch it and notice you’re covered in the red as well.

You’re pretty sure it’s blood, but you run to the bathroom and turn on that horrible mirror light that shows every single line and hair, just to be sure. You look like you were hit with a can of red spray paint. Your face is swelling up from where coffee shop guy hit you, but you’re 100% sure this blood isn’t yours.

You stay curled in the shower well past when the hot water stops. You come out an hour later wrapped in a towel and not wanting to deal with your dirty clothes, but you know they need to be stain treated.

Lilith is on the couch. She looks up from the book on ancient Greece and stares at you.

“Are you okay?” 

Her voice is laced with concern. You didn’t see her when you came in. Maybe she saw the blood on the door. Maybe she heard you crying or noticed the handful of bloody clothes you’re carrying.

“I’ll be okay,” you say. You won’t. I mean, you will? But you really fucking won’t for a while.

You don’t ask how she knows you’re not okay. You don’t register this, as, well, you’re not fucking okay right now.

Lilith picks up a steaming mug from the side table and stands. She reaches out to hand you the coffee cup. “Tea,” she says in a halted voice. “For nerves. I’m told it works.”

You thank her and sip the tea. It tastes like she slit the bag open and dumped it in hot water. You look in the mug and see bits of tea dust floating around. You wonder if she’s ever made tea in her life.

“Thanks,” you say. “It’s perfect.”

Lilith nods. She takes your dirties and heads for the closet washer. You hope to God she can do laundry better than she can brew tea.

***

You notice that boxes of tea start to appear in the kitchen. Different brands, different flavors. They’re materializing each morning when you wake up, stacked increasingly higher in makeshift piles, like crude offerings. 

You also notice there’s more food on your side of the fridge. You decidedly toss some frozen pizzas that were not stored in the freezer into the trash. Some fruit that’s been frozen joins them. It looks like someone took a wild guess as to how food is supposed to be stored, but all you register is there’s more food, and it's on your side, and there’s so much Goddamn tea. 

It’s sweet. Fucking weird, but sweet.

***

That night, you emerge from your room to the smell of something hot and greasy. You quit your job and are looking for something that puts you in less of a dangerous position than your coffee shop. Seriously, your manager could have gotten off their ass and joined you that night. Fuck that place. You can take out another student loan. Just add it to the pile.

There’s a bag on the coffee table. You look around, but Lilith is gone again. There’s a post-in next to the bag that just says EAT. You notice there’s a receipt stapled to the side of the bag. It looks like a Doordash order, but the name on the order is Raymond, and there are red splotches on the white paper bag.

You look inside. There’s a double cheeseburger, a spilled curly fry, and a strawberry shake.

You decide the mystery of Raymond isn’t as important as how hungry you feel.

The burger tastes incredible.

You open the curtain on your patio window to look at the city lights and enjoy your meal in the kind-of dark of the apartment. You’re about to turn on the TV when Lilith unlocks the front door and steps inside. She stares at you expectantly as she stands still as a statue in the entryway.

“Is that good food?” The tone of her voice sounds less like she’s asking if you like it and more like she genuinely doesn’t know.

You nod. “It’s great. Thanks.” You actively force yourself not to ask about Raymond.

Lilith givers a stiff nod. “Are you okay?” She asks quickly. You sense her looking you over.

You nod again. Short communication seems to be Lilith’s thing. “Yeah, I’m great. How much do I owe you for the food?”

She cocks her head. “Owe?”

“Yeah. Um, the receipt says it was $23. Did you eat any?”

Lilith shakes her head. “No. I can’t eat that.”

“Oh, um, okay. Gimmie a sec and I’ll get some cash. I think I’ve got some.”

“It’s a gift.”

You pause. Lilith isn’t smiling, but she doesn’t look angry, either. She’s just doing that weird, wide-eyed blank thing that you sometimes notice her doing when you cross paths.

“Eat.” She gestures to the bag.

“Oh, well, in that case, thanks.”

Lilith slides off her shoes in the entranceway. You glance down. They’re slip-ons patterned with newspaper print. Kind of cute in a 1980’s way. You notice some blood stains across their tops.

“I was gonna watch some Hulu. You wanna join me?” You gesture to the television in an effort to ignore her footwear.

Lilith shakes her head. “I don’t like the smell,” she says. She nods towards the bag.

So, she’s not a fast-food girl. That’s cool.

She turns to go to her room. You turn your attention to the window and notice your reflection.

You only register you can’t see Lilith when you see the door to her room close by itself.

The fries are next level. You try not to think about Raymond.

***

You know better than to open the door when someone knocks, but you’re cleaning and you’ve got the music loud and you’re not sure if Lilith is a hard rock fan, so you’re taking advantage of being alone. You’re so distracted you don’t register your mistake until the door is open and Brad is standing there.

Stunned, you step back as he walks in. He hands you a bouquet of pink roses that you dumbly take. Honestly, you’re on autopilot. Is this happening? You were cleaning. Why is Brad here? How is Brad here? Didn’t Brad leave forever? Are you asleep? Is this a nightmare?

You squeeze the roses as your common sense catches up with the situation. You register he’s talking about the apartment. He’s looking around at the new posters you’ve put up, the books you have out. Brad never liked your posters, and he hated your books. Now, he’s telling you how nice they are. This doesn’t register. None of this makes any sense.

Brad smiles at you and instantly your stomach tightens. You feel like you’re going to throw up. Two years’ worth of PTSD slam into you. Memories of fights, drinking, bad, bad nights, all of it. Brad is telling you how much he misses you. 

He reaches out and you recoil. He doesn’t get to do that anymore. He doesn’t belong here.

He frowns, and the smile drops. Now he’s got that look. You can’t seem to get away from that look. That coffee shop guy look. That you’re-in-trouble look. You can see what he’s thinking clear as day. He’s emboldened by being in the apartment. He tells you you’re not being fair. He keeps walking towards you.

You can smell the beer on him. It’s wafting off his clothes and on his breath. You want to vomit at the thought of that breath touching you. He needs to leave.

You tell Brad to get out and he smiles again, but it’s a very-wrong smile and you instantly have memories of when you last saw that smile and you suddenly know with a cold certainty how your day is about to go. You feel yourself lock up inside. You wonder if you can get past him to the knives in the kitchen. The silver ones your mother gave you are the sharpest. They would make him think twice, just like he did last June when he’d had one too many and you got brave.

Brad is between you and the kitchen, and you sense he’s herding you backwards towards your door. You yell at him now, ordering him to leave. He laughs you off and reaches out. You keep swatting him away and throw the flowers at him, but this makes him move faster and grip you hard by the wrist. 

You let out a scream.

What happens next is a bit of a blur, but you see Brad’s head jerk backwards and Lilith’s face is suddenly beside it. You see her lunge for his neck, her mouth open wide. You watch as long, sharp teeth tear through the soft flesh of his throat like he was made of paper.

Brad flails like a wild animal in a trap, but Lilith doesn’t budge. You watch as this five-foot even girl holds a man easily six-one and two hundred twenty pounds in place as she gorges herself on his blood. Brad’s scream sounds wet and gurgled as his eyes roll back into his skull. His skin goes chalk white as he shudders violently in her arms. You’re suddenly reminded of when you saw your dad tie a fish to the side of his boat when you were a kid. The helpless flapping. The look in the creature’s eyes that said it knew on some level it was dying.

You expect Lilith to just let go, but instead she digs her fingernails into his face and yanks back even harder. You let out a small scream as she tears his head off and starts ripping chunks of Brad out of the hole where his neck had been. She devours the chunks much the same way you ate Raymond’s fries the other night.

After a few moments, Lilith seems to snap out of her feeding frenzy. She looks around, suddenly aware of her surroundings. She stands and uses the back of her hand to wipe her face off, her eyes locked on yours the entire time. She’s drenched in blood head to toe and breathing hard, but she looks terrified. She reminds you of a child that’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

You take a deep breath. You take several, just to savor being alive. After all, you’re not 100% sure how tonight is going to play out.

You force yourself not to look at Brad. 

For a second, you wonder if you’re next. Then you remember the coffee shop guy. You remember the awkward stacks of tea and the food that was shoved in the fridge. You remember the notes.

You lock eyes with Lilith. She’s waiting for you to say something.

“So,” your voice cracks, but you do your best to stay calm. “I can clean the floor if you can take care of,” you gesture wildly at what’s left of Brad. “This.”

Who’s saying this? The thought flashes through your mind. How are you this calm? She just ate Brad. She just ate Brad!

Your mind races with thoughts of how Brad treated you. Thoughts of the smell of beer on his breath. Of the look he was giving you. Of what he was about to do.

She just ate Brad.

You suddenly realize you’re cool with that.

Lilith nods. She gathers up the pieces of Brad and slinks out the open door. You let out the biggest breath you’ve ever held and go to get the bleach and a mop. You hope your hands will stop shaking.

***

Lilith is back in twenty minutes. You’ve gone through an entire roll of paper towels and you’re out of cleaning solution, but the apartment is about 90% back to normal. Lilith is covered in blood when she comes in, but she still takes her shoes off at the door.

“I can wash those for you,” you offer. “Do you want a shower?”

Lilith nods. She hands you a bloody wad of cash you’re guessing came from Brad’s wallet. “Sorry about the mess,” she says. 

Her voice drifts in and out like a cold wind through a graveyard. It sounds like autumn and clouds and dark.

Autumn is your favorite time of year. This thought stays in your mind and doesn’t leave as you listen to her voice.

“Go shower,” you manage. “Just leave your clothes out for me.”

She strips right there in the middle of the apartment. You register that this is far from the weirdest thing that’s happened in the last hour as a bloody, naked Lilith walks by you and gently shuts the bathroom door. You quickly toss her clothes in the machine and pour in way too much softener.

When she comes out, she’s wrapped in a purple towel and still a little drippy, but blood-free. Her long black hair is wrapped in a brown towel from under the sink. You notice her cheeks seem to have a little more color than normal.

She stands in front of you. You’re sitting on the couch in front of the TV. A cup of properly brewed tea is in your hands and the Hulu landing page is on the screen. Every piece of actual silver silverware is currently in the trash can.

She looks at the TV like this is the first time she’s noticed it. You suddenly realize you’ve never once seen her in the room with it on. You wonder if she even knew how to turn it on.

“Is this a Hulu?” She asks. There’s a note in her voice. She sounds... Intrigued? She drifts to the television and lightly runs her fingers over the screen. “Pretty colors,” she murmurs.

After several seconds of staring at the bright screen, she turns around and registers that you’re watching her. She stands up straight and clears her throat.

“I think,” Lilith says in a halting voice. She bites her lip. “I think we need to talk.”

You take a deep breath. You scoot on the couch to make some room, and for the first time, Lilith sits down beside you.

You sip your tea. 

You’re pretty fucking sure she doesn’t want any.

There’s something off about your roommate.        

[lilyswh0re]

it’s nice to have a (girl)friend - robin buckley

date: june 16, 2022

summary: robin’s a good “friend”

note: y/n is a fem bc robin is a lesbian but race and appearance isn’t mentioned. y/n uses she/her. this takes place the school year before season 3 and during season 3

warnings: nothing but fluff bc wlw/sapphics deserve media that isn’t centered around suffering and homophobia 🫶

a/n: ITS PRIDE MONTH AND I SHOULD HAVE A GF RN. also i think the gif is vvvv cute

tags: @we-stan-evie-frye @ghostofscarley @loverssfevers @limerenze

the air was crisp against your skin. you had dropped your gloves somewhere along the way to the bus stop in the morning and the indiana winter wasn’t very forgiving. “want mine?” robin asks.

“no, robin, it’s cold.”

she slips off one of hers and slips it onto your own hand, “compromise.” she smiles, lingering on your wrist. subtle touches like those warmed your heart. robin tugs on your coat sleeve, covering your exposed wrist.

“wanna hang out?” you ask, “i have my place to myself today.”

“yea, sounds like fun.” you lead her to your bus.

it’s stuffy in there with everyone’s coats and slippery boots.

“i forgot how much i hate your bus,” robin laughed lowly. hers happens to be more empty and have less band geeks with their bulky cases.

“it’s only fair, we always go to your house. i got a nintendo with a bunch of games. you can use it first.”

you were rambling about your plans once you arrived. only stopping when you feel robin’s hand in your pocket. she withdrew it with a downturnt smile.

uncrumpling the paper was a drawing of a flower inside a heart vase; written in it was: you look very pretty.

“i meant to give that to you in english.”

the butterflies were overwhelming. robin was your first almost girlfriend (almost because she hadn’t asked you out yet, and you were to nervous to ask her).

•••

school finally let out, the humidity was agonizing and the sun left anything that absorbed heat, sizzling. unfortunately, robin’s roof was black, which burned the back of your thighs. the temperature only started going down as the sun set, leaving a trail of pinks in her wake.

“is harrington going to replace me?”

robin tensed up at the mention of his name. you were only joking though. “harrington is such a doofus. no brain cells, all hair. i think all the hairspray killed them.” she sent you into a fit of laughter, almost causing you to roll off the roof.

she grinned as she gripped your hand to keep you stable. the sweatiness of her palms hushed your laugh in an instant. gasping for air, you lay closer to her.

the sun was done sinking at this point.

“do we have to get off any time soon?” your head rolled towards her, only to see that she was already looking at you.

“nah, no curfew. but i do have work tomorrow.” you nodded, “you should come in with me.”

“sure.” the apples of your cheeks hurt from smiling.

•••

some couple had gotten married as you were cruising through downtown hawkin. you weren’t around the church to see them as the bells rang, announcing their life long union. you only saw the aftermath of the rice on the corner.

“in some cultures that means bad luck,” robin stated, “we shouldn’t throw rice, you know?”

“well babe, i guess we won’t throw rice.” robin’s cheeks were blazing red.

“yea…babe.”

“let’s go home.”

robin kicks off on her bike, leading you home.

—————————————————————————————————————————

after reading note: yes i feminized the sun, suck it up 🫶 the sun and moon are sapphics, it’s a lesbian relationship. also i didn’t know how to write the final verse 💔

[hajihiko]

Do you think Soda has PTSD from his dad?

(Wonder if u two are mind linked lol)

Short answer: I'm not sure about flashbacks or other PTSD symptoms since Im not an expert on it; *I* dont usually have it in mind per se, but objectively it's very possible and understandable.

(Warning: gonna talk about parental abuse. Obviously. But only in the context of the effects it might have, no real descriptions of violence)

Long answer: I think Soudas relationship with his dad is one of those messy, awful, complicated ones that you might not really understand until years later, when you've gotten some distance.

I think he says that he used to stay home during field trips and class events, because his dad was kinda poor and Souda didn't want him to have to field the expenses; but instead of just saying that, he just kinda. Didn't go. And got beat for it. So he might have not felt safe just saying "I'm gonna skip school because it's cheaper" (not to generalize but, Fathers and feeling like they're not considered Head of House / Full Provider, amiright). A little bit of "I gotta do things right and if I dont do them right then it's bad news but it's fine because I'll just do it better next time".

I think he wanted, generally, to have a good relationship with his dad and be helpful- trying to save money, helping out at their workshop/garage, just kinda hanging out, etc. Like he actually wanted to and thought he could have a great father/son thing going on if he just tried a little harder or did things a little differently, changed himself a little, never really thinking of talking it out or telling anyone- because it's not so bad and he can totally handle it! And it's not like he gets his ass beat every day it's only occasionally (when he fucks up) and in between, they actually have a good time together sometimes! His dad is like, almost his friend! And his dad does keep him fed and clothed and supports his passion (and his very good at reminding Souda that he should be thankful) so it's NO Big Deal. Just like his ex-best-friend throwing him under the bus was no big deal, just as long as no one starts ignoring him or leaving him out or kicking him out of the house its FINE.

That's why he talks about it so casually, because it's fine, and its only once he has enough distance from the situation and gets to hear different perspectives that he's like, oh, that was messed up actually.

Like, Hajime and Sonia both seem shocked, but they come from such a different background so its okay that they dont get it- but Fuyuhiko gets furious about it too, and while his parents sucked they never actually beat him- and Akane has been through A Damn Lot but even she seems really uncomfortable with the idea that okay yeah Soudas dad beat the shit out of him a few times (it's the Big Sister in her).

And just like, with time and good friends around, I can see Souda having moments where he just remembers something he used to think nothing of and goes "wait that was fucked up actually??" Like, they're just fishing or something, and he goes "hey... did your parents ever try to convince you something didn't happen when it probably definitely did?" And depending on who he asks the answer is different, but generally its "nnnno?" and he's like "oh ..... that's kinda messed up isnt it?" Yes, Souda, it is messed up.

And he might have reactions and ideas that he didn't think about too much when he was still in his home situation, like his general fearfulness and jumpiness, being convinced people might turn on him, being kind of a people-pleaser sometimes, flinching excessively around certain noises or movements, being quick to cower and cover his head, etc, quick to latch onto people who are any kind of nice to him. Stuff that's just kind of his personality by now, but he probably got it from somewhere.

I'm not an expert tho and I won't armchair diagnose or anything, this is just my personal interpretation.

(According to A Therapist that stuff is not classified as PTSD symptoms if it's not accompanied by flashbacks or painful memories / stuff you actively try not to remember, but what do I know)

[bratkook]

right now. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost , right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, smut, idiots to lovers!! word count. 14.8k warnings. two mega fucking idiots<33, miscommunication/dumb assumptions, smut in forms of: fingering, oral sex (f.), orgasm denial, spanking, some spit bc duh, unprotected sex, super sweet & lovey!! also jungkook is a sweetheart pls love him summary. coming to terms with your feelings after getting off to the idea of your close friend is a little harder than you thought, but how long can you take before jungkook decides its time to move on? note. did jlin forget how to write for a few weeks? yes, yes she did....i know this took a long time but life is rough man so forgive me... but anyways lol the final part to the not yet!verse is hereeeee! thank you to @kithtaehyung​ for reading this over for me ily!! thank you guys for enjoying this mini series, the response was really unexpected but im sososo happy over every comment/ask i’ve gotten for this story. once again, tysm for your love and let me know what you think<3

The evening sun illuminates Jungkook’s apartment, golden hour bouncing off every reflective surface and straight into his eyes the second he walks in, immediately squinting as he makes a beeline to shut the blinds. His head was already throbbing from the hangover that decided to peak around noon, a mean case of nausea putting a damper on his work day. So as much as he loved soaking in some vitamin D today was not the day. 

“Are you joking?” he huffs as he brings down the blinds, hand yanking at the flimsy string in an attempt to get it unstuck. “How stup—you’d think with the amount I pay every month in rent the blinds would work!” 

Alright, so maybe he was a little grumpy today, choosing to take it out on an inanimate object and blame it purely on the bad decisions made last night—definitely had nothing to do with the residual moping of you going on a date. This could be fixed, easily. 

The first order of business? Texting you to see if you’d be interested in devouring greasy food from your favorite place down the street. He’d get to see you and finally put something in his stomach, it’s the best of both worlds really. 

Jungkook forgets about the blinds, leaving them stuck in the awkward position as he walks away entirely, fishing his phone out of his pocket while he enters his room. It’s the same text he always sends when he’s hangry: If I don’t get food in the next 15 mins I'm burning this place down and taking you with me. 

He knows the response he’ll get, either that meme of the child in front of a burning house or an equally hangry paragraph. The phone gets tossed onto his bed as he changes out of his work clothes, needing to dispose of the business casual attire that was suffocating him, his old college hoodie giving him the comfort he needs. 

By the time he’s finally slipping on his sneakers he’s expecting you to come knocking on his door, your impatient attitude always putting a smile on his face. Half of the time your neighbors thought you were having arguments from the way you’d pound onto the slab of wood, saying his name with just enough annoyance laced into each syllable it would fool anyone into thinking you were actually upset instead of being a brat. But when that never comes, he reaches for his phone again. 

A few notifications fill up his screen, some instagram direct message previews, his group chat that he never responded to, and a few emails coming through, but you had yet to respond. Maybe it’s a little creepy, but Jungkook knows you’re home because he passed by your parked car on his way in. So his mind jumps to two extremes: you were either face down, drowning in your bathtub, or that yellow shades wearing wannabe version of himself was at your place. 

Not an ounce of shame sits within him as he speedwalks to the side his bed was on, placing both palms onto the wall before his ear was pressed against the cold drywall. Jungkook’s not really sure what would make him feel good, hearing you and Jung Hoseok together, or hearing nothing at all. His ears strain to hear anything, but the only sound he gets is his own blood pumping. 

With a small pout he pulls back, deciding he’d play the annoying neighbor role today and pound on your door instead. It’s a role he doesn’t take lightly, knuckles banging on the wood loud enough for you to hear wherever you were in your apartment. It takes a few minutes before any sign of life is shown, your door creaking open, and Jungkook is thankful because he was about to head to the maintenance office to ask for a key in case you actually were drowning in your bathtub. 

“C’mon, let’s get food,” he declares instantly, a charming smile on his face as he stands with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. The smile slowly falls off when he gets a good look at you, hair looking like a mess on your head and your fluffy blanket draped around you as you give out a weak cough. “Are you sick?”

“I think so,” you rasp out, leaning against your door frame and tugging the blanket tighter around you. 

“Did that fucker give you mono?” Jungkook looks irritated, brows pinched together in a grimace—something you’re definitely not accustomed to seeing so you almost don’t catch his accusation.

“Jungkook, no! It’s nothing serious.”

He doesn’t look fully convinced, but he shrugs anyways, positive you weren’t interested in getting interrogated when you were feeling under the weather. “Alright, let me know if you need me to drive you to the doctor if it becomes something serious.”

With a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you wave him off, slowly shutting the door behind you. Your eye immediately peeks through your peephole, not relaxing until he makes his way down the hall and enters the elevator, still on his quest for greasy food. 

“God, how old are you?” you grumble to yourself, yanking the blanket off your body and onto the floor with a huff. Pretending to be sick to avoid your friend was a new low, especially after the post-orgasm epiphany you had last night. A sane person would come to terms with their feelings and confess to them, uncertainty and possible rejection be damned! But you? No, you have to fake a cold like the giant coward you are. 

The guilt only deepens when a knock comes from your door an hour later, a quick peek through your peephole allowing you to see Jungkook setting two plastic bags on the floor before stepping back and walking to his apartment next door. You don’t come out until you hear his door shut, seeing the logo of your favorite diner down the street. No doubt would your comfort meal be inside the takeaway container. 

It takes all you have to not rush over to his place and say you were lying when you see he had also gone ahead and got you cold medication, a few different bottles because he surely didn’t know which was best, along with teas and some cough drops. 

You’re a dirty liar. A horrible friend too. 

That doesn’t stop you from devouring the meal in the takeout box as you’re hunched over your breakfast bar like a little gremlin. “This is just for today,” you mumble out to yourself as you set the plastic fork down and chug some of the leftover alcohol you had in your fridge. It’s your own version of a pity party, except the food feels heavy in your stomach, knowing the man you were avoiding was the one who bought it—bring on the guilt. 

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

You’re a dirty liar and horrible friend 2.0. Why this time? Because tomorrow stretched out a few more days than planned. It wasn’t entirely intentional at first, getting stuck at work longer than usual and missing the weekly hangout at your place where you got your remote covered in cheeto dust as you argued over what to watch. But it trickled down onto shorter replies to his texts, or you scrambling out of your apartment and into the elevator so fast in order to not run into him, your mind still trying to list all the pros and cons to this potential relationship before you even had the guts to confess to your feelings. 

Jungkook didn’t know thats what was occupying your mind, no he was currently thinking the worst. He notices the change instantly, recognizing it because this was the exact way you had acted while you were with Hajoon, right before you broke the news to him that you needed to keep some distance while you focused on your relationship. So Jungkook automatically assumes that your sudden change in behavior after going on a single date with Jung Hoseok, was because you wanted to make your relationship with this man work. 

His assumption stings—a lot actually—and soon enough he stops initiating conversations altogether. He didn’t want to hear you tell him you had to distance yourself again, he’s not sure his heart could handle that a second time, so he decides to get ahead of the curb and take a massive step away from you. It hurts him to know you’re right next door, and just like before, it’s like you’re back to being total strangers. 

Safe to say Jungkook was currently going on his own downward spiral. 

You could text him like nothing had happened and he’d accept it with open arms, but instead you text your best friend an SOS text, begging her to meet you at your place. She calls you dramatic at first, but once you say it’s about Jungkook she shows up at your place in record time. 

“Did you finally fuck him?” Is her greeting of choice, spoken shamelessly from the hallway with no worry about her volume. She cackles when you yank the bottle of wine from her grasp and tug her into your apartment, letting the door slam behind her. 

“You’re lucky he’s not home you bitch.” An eye roll is her only response, yanking the bottle back and making her way into your kitchen to grab the opener. 

“So you didn’t fuck him?” The cork pops at her question, a curious glance staring you down as she pours the red liquid into an oversized cup. 

“No Seulgi, I didn’t fuck him. But I did...something.” It makes your face warm up as you remember it, gratefully grabbing the cup she hands your way because you definitely need some liquid courage before confessing to your sins.

She hums in thought as she raids your pantry for something to munch on, settling on a bag of mini pretzels before leading you to your couch, needing to know the gossip that led to your sos text. “Okay, did you accidentally send him a nude then?”

“No, that wouldn’t be so bad I think?” Sending him an accidental nude would be laughable, probably resolved by a few screaming texts and dumb jokes before moving on. But new feelings seeing the light of day seemed so much worse. “But I sort of kissed him at a club a few weeks ago to get back at Hajoon—long story,” you cut in when you see her ready to fire off questions. 

“And then I went on that failed Tinder date I told you about, and when I got home I sort of heard him, you know,”— you mimic a jerking off motion with your hand and ignore her lewd gasp, “and then I…” you trail off shamefully. 

“No!” she gasps even louder, hand pressed to her mouth and eyes wide. 

“Yes! And the fucking orgasm opened my eyes and made me realize that maybe that tiny crush you guys always joke about him having is real, and maybe I have a tiny crush on him too.”

“Does he know?”

“That I like him?”

“No, that you rubbed one out while listening to him you dirty slut!” Oh she’s loving this, leaning back into your cushions with a handful of pretzels resting on her boobs, a sly smile on her lips as she takes a sip of her wine. She’s the one who planted the seed in your mind, playfully joking about Jungkook any chance she got, saying he had the hots for you because she enjoyed the flustered look on your face. No doubt would she text the group chat with the news the second you finish this cry for help. 

“Do you think I told him? I can barely come to terms with the fact that I like him. Like what am I supposed to do?”

She sighs dramatically, munching on the final pretzel on her tits before sitting up and dusting off the crumbs from her shirt. “Look, I know you’re just realizing that he likes you so this is still new and fresh for you, but we’ve noticed it for years. It’s fine that you didn’t see it, you had other things occupying your mind.” 

You frown as you stare at the rug beneath your feet, remembering how life was when you first moved into this complex. Getting out of a previous relationship weeks prior, when you had met Jungkook your mind was not interested in pursuing anything with him regardless of how cute you thought he was. It made it easier for you to form a friendship, not worried about trying to impress him, or flirt with him, allowing him to see you for who you truly are. 

Jungkook had his fair share of girlfriends during the years, none of which were entirely serious but by the time he was completely single you had met Hajoon, and he had accepted the fact that maybe you were better off as friends and he would just admire you from afar. That is, until you decided to plant one on him. So technically this is your fault. 

“Jungkook likes you okay, and I’m sure if you just marched next door and told him you like him too he’ll drop on one knee and marry you.”

“Shut up,” you snort, shoving her shoulder with a smile. 

“As a matter of fact, go over there right now!” She stands up from her spot, yanking your arms to haul you up with her. 

“I told you, he’s not home. But, I’ll tell him. I have to.”

Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest as she stares at you, clearly displeased that she wouldn’t be witness to this love story unfolding in real time. “You better. You never know what sneaky little bitch is trying to get him to get over you.”

The sneaky little bitch in question is Park Jimin, currently sitting directly across from Jungkook, guzzling down beer like his life depends on it. It's impressive really, how quickly he empties the cup, eyes shut looking as content as could be even in the dim lighting. Jungkook can only watch with a grimace as his friend sets the glass down and wipes at his mouth with no sense of table manners. 

“What?” he burps, proceeding to pour more of the golden liquid into his cup from the pitcher in the middle of the table. 

“I always forget how absolutely disgusting you are. How do you do it?” Jimin just frowns at the question, not entirely understanding so Jungkook continues. “What switch do you flip to go from sipping champagne to chugging beer like a fucking biker.”

“It’s a talent, I know.” He smiles wide, reaching forward to grip Jungkook’s hand and force him to grab his own cup. Condensation was pooling around the bottom from sitting there untouched, and that just wouldn’t do on Jimin’s watch. “C’mon, drink it!”

“Fine,” Jungkook grumbles, raising the glass and allowing Jimin to clank the cups together before taking a big gulp. He doesn’t clear the cup like his friend did seconds prior but it's enough to appease him. It tastes absolutely bitter the whole way down, settling into his stomach uncomfortably, and the look on his face as he pushes the glass away from him is very telling. 

Boisterous shouts fill the sports bar they were in, huddles of people surrounding the tables and booths as they watched the current soccer match playing on the televisions lining the walls. Jungkook honestly feels like a debby downer now, moping in his seat instead of enjoying the atmosphere with his friend like they normally did. The current game was definitely not the reason Jungkook had texted Jimin to grab drinks, no he needed an outlet to talk about you—preferably in a space that didn’t have walls as thin as his apartment.  

When he barely acknowledges the plate of wings set in front of him Jimin huffs, resisting the urge to dig in because he knew once he did he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. “Are you gonna be like this the entire time?”

“Like what?” Jungkook has the gall to ask, acting as if he wasn’t looking like a wounded animal. 

“Like you just discovered your wife of ten years is having an affair with your sister.”

He sits up straighter at that, eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus.“

Jimin knew the jist of what was happening through the texts he had received the past week, but it seems like Jungkook didn’t want to jump into the topic of it at all now that they were sitting across from each other. He just sighs before deciding to be honest, wasting no time beating around the bush to hopefully be the voice of reason Jungkook needs. “You’ve been simping over her for years JK, and I get it, you think she could be the one. But what about you huh? It’s not fair for you to have your heart wrung out each time she gets a man and decides to put the friendship on pause—“

“That happened once!” He defends, brows pinched on his forehead as he shakes his head, ready to explain your situation because he wasn’t a fan of hearing his friend say anything about you when he didn’t truly know what happened. “The dude was a piece of shit and basically told her it was him or me. I’m not gonna crucify her for wanting a long term relationship to work.”

“Right, so she’s not icing you out again because she got a new man? That’s literally what you told me, it’s why I bought you this sympathy pitcher of beer!”

“Fuck you, you bought this pitcher for yourself.” Jimin had chugged two giant glasses of beer already, and was steadily working on his third, whereas Jungkook’s watered down cup remained relatively untouched. “Besides, I was just...spiraling and assumed when I sent you that desperate text. But I haven’t heard anything.”

Jimin can only stare blankly at the table as he processes what was just said before locking eyes with his friend once more, “Sorry, what? You haven’t heard anything? The hell kind of riddle is that.”

Jungkook sinks into the booth with a look of shame, not wanting to admit to occasionally laying in his bed at night in complete and total silence just to see if he could hear you and the hypothetical version of Jung Hoseok doing literally anything. It’s not one of his proudest moments, feeling like a bit of a creeper as he laid stiff on his bed, too scared to make a sound.  “Nothing, forget about it. Point is, I haven’t seen the fucker come in or out of her place, so what does that mean?”

A deep sigh comes from Jimin, hand reaching forward to push the beer closer to Jungkook, desperately trying to get him to drink and ease up. “It means you pay far too much attention to her. When was the last time you got any action?”

Two weeks ago. From his hand and filthy imagination. 

“A few months,” he grumbles, remembering his last hook up that happened a few days before he discovered you got dumped. 

“Get outta here.” Jimin rolls his eyes as he points to the door. “Literally, go stand at the corner outside, show some thighs or a tattooed titty and take your pick of the swarm of girls that will surely follow you.”

Jungkook thinks he’s joking, but when his friend doesn’t drop his hand and narrows his eyes threateningly he knows he’s being serious. “My tits aren’t even tattooed,”—his large palms press against his shirt covered chest as if to prove a point— “And you sound like a douchebag talking like this.”

“What? She went on a tinder date and definitely got laid, so you need to even out the playing field. Also, it might help you chill the hell out.”

“Oh my god, you’re not helping.” Jungkook really didn’t need that visual again, it had flashed in his mind too often the night of his pity party and now it was once again at the front of his brain. 

“Alright, okay. I’m throwing out my safe word right now.” Jimin leans closer, arms resting on the table with a confused look on his face. “What do you need from me here? Like, do I play the role of a supportive friend who wants you to get over her, or do I play the role of a friend who wants you to confess? Because you’re giving me some mixed signals Jeon.”

A groan escapes Jungkook, fingers rubbing at his eyes before dragging down his face as he sinks even further into his seat. “I don’t know.” 

It’s the truth. Jungkook had no idea what he wanted his friend to do to help him. He knew that although his feelings for you have weighed heavy on his chest for what seems like years, you technically had no idea, so he feels a little guilty over his frustration for the whole situation. You were newly single again and determined to go through this self proclaimed wild phase so Jungkook isn’t dumb enough to think you can’t go out and do whatever you want, even if that means being with someone who isn’t him. 

“Look,” Jimin sighs, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You only have two choices here, tell her how you feel and accept whatever comes with it, or make peace with the idea of just being friends. Either way, I think you need to loosen up and have fun tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jungkook sits himself up, wrapping his fingers around the cup in an effort to at least look like he wanted to be here. He couldn’t sit here and mope about a problem like this when he hadn’t attempted to come out and tell you how he feels. 

One night of loosening up to get you off his mind wouldn’t hurt, if anything it might help him come to his senses. At least that’s what Jimin was currently whispering with a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure you don’t black out and get home safe. Who knows, you might get plastered enough to drunk text your confession.”

Jungkook glares at his friend, not liking the goofy look on his face as he starts to laugh. “I swear to god, you better not let me get to that point. Take my phone away from me.”

Jimin obviously wants to see the world burn, or at least he enjoys it when Jungkook somehow digs himself into his own grave. That's exactly why he responds with a million laughing emojis when Jungkook texts him asking why the hell he hadn’t taken his phone last night. 

He did a good job hiding his shock when a knock came from his front door, half expecting it to be you, keeping a smile on his face as he allowed  the person who was very clearly not you in before swiftly entering his bathroom. Jungkook wants to stay locked here forever, holed up while he sits on his toilet and not in the living room with company. It wasn’t like it was bad company either, his drunken ass going through his contact list and sending an invitation to hangout the following day to the last person he spoke to, Aillie. 

The girl is sweet, someone he had a casual fling with for months, someone who was used to his random texts so she doesn’t think twice before agreeing. The only silver lining to this was that he hadn’t sent you a typo-filled drunken confession, which is what Jimin responds with before telling him to suck it up and leave his bathroom. 

Jungkook accepts his fate, as well as accepting that he is partially responsible for this. He shoves his device back into his pockets before standing up and flushing the toilet for show, washing his hands just to stall. One good glance at his reflection makes him cringe, stained shirt and sweats combo leaves him looking like the unprepared mess he is. Another detour through his room to change was a must before he has no choice but to step back out. 

“You’re totally hung over aren’t you?” Aillie jokes from her spot on the couch, comfortable enough in his apartment from the time spent here. She locks her phone as she stands up, taking her time to really look Jungkook over. He was not dressed like someone who was expecting a guest, and despite having seen Jungkook at his sloppiest, his previous attire of oversized shirt and slightly stained sweatpants didn’t look like someone who was expecting a fuck buddy to pop over. Even with his new outfit looking more put together, it was obvious Jungkook was caught off guard by her showing up. 

“What?” Jungkook dumbly asks, trying to come up with some lame excuse to justify his earlier appearance but he falls short. His fingers gently rake through his hair, a grimace falling on his face as he looks back up at her. “Actually, a little. Sorry, I got drunk last night when I text you so sober me was not really prepared.”

“Yeah I figured, you sent me some blurry selfies right after. But we can just hang, we don’t have to do anything,” she trails off, a soft smile on her lips. The only time they ever hung out was to hook up, having ten minute conversations before and after the fact. “Or I can leave too if it's weird that I’m here.” 

Jungkook is shaking his head before she can even finish, already feeling bad enough after texting her to come over. How shitty would he be if he immediately kicked her out. This was fine, a nice distraction from it all, decent middle ground that would help him get his mind off you without having to take Jimin’s douchebag advice. 

“No, we can watch a movie or something. It’s not like I have other plans.” Had this been two weeks ago it would be a totally different story. Jungkook would typically be waiting in his apartment as he stared at the slowly ticking clock, just waiting for it to strike 7:30 because that's when you usually got home. Then he’d either get a text from you to come over with snacks or you’d show up at his door and invite yourself over for the weekly game night. 

It didn’t happen last week, or the week prior, so Jungkook is very confident that it would not be happening today either. It’s that same sense of confidence—and saltiness—that allows him to get comfortable with Aillie, blissfully unaware that you had just pulled into the parking garage a few stories below. 

“I swear to god if you don’t go straight to his door the minute you get off the elevator I will never let you live it down.” Seulgi’s voice fills your car through the speakers, fading out as you shut the car off and bring your phone to your ear to continue the conversation. 

“Dude, I just got off work. I need to make myself look decent.” Plastic bags rustle together as you grab the snacks you had picked up on your way home, all full of yours and Jungkook's favorite treats. It was definitely a guilt fueled purchase, hoping the items were enough to distract him from the fact that you were kind of a bitch for ghosting him recently, or at least butter him up into accepting your apology easier. 

“You think Jungkook cares if you’re a little sweaty from work? He’s a grown man, that’s not gonna stop him from going do—“

“Okay, goodbye!” You hastily cut her off as you press the elevator button, hearing her rambling off about being interrupted. “I’m about to get on the elevator, I’ll tell you how it goes.”

With a small sigh you hang up and stuff the device into your purse, stepping onto the lift as the doors open up and pressing the number for your floor. Your hands are clammy as you grip the plastic bag, uncharacteristically nervous about seeing Jungkook again after so long. 

The main obstacle for you to get over was apologizing for being a crappy friend, and if that went well you were going to suck it up and just come out and confess, the odds of him saying no were slim. And even if he did, you’re perfectly content with staying friends, as long as you could keep him close. 

It’s that same optimistic mentality that allows you to calm down as you enter your place and decide to give yourself a minute to mentally prepare. His favorite ice cream gets put into the freezer for later before you decide to shower and give yourself a pep talk the entire time. 

This pep talk of yours is filled with best case scenarios: Jungkook accepting the confession with open arms, finally being able to kiss him properly, everything falling into place the way it should have a long time ago. And as you head over, totally sober, freshly washed, looking and smelling your best, you really can’t picture this going any other way. 

With a deep breath you’re knocking on his front door, quickly pulling back your hand and wiping it onto your pants as you step back. Jungkook hears the knock clearly from his spot on the couch, his gaze tearing away from the television to stare at his front door with a small frown. He hadn’t ordered any food and Aillie had just excused herself to use his bathroom so his brain is having a hard time wondering who it could be. 

He curses under his breath, not putting it past himself to have texted a second person last night with an invitation to hang out. Why was Jungkook a friendly drunk?

As he presses his eye against the peephole and spots you standing there, he thinks he’s imagining things. It had seemed like so long since he had last seen you in person, and the warped fish-eyed version of you has him stepping back and rubbing his eyes before taking another glance. He suddenly feels like throwing up, and he can’t blame his earlier hangover on it. 

For a brief second he contemplates pretending he hadn’t heard you, but the guilt of doing so makes his heart twist, so he musters up the courage to open the door. It’s barely a crack really, just enough for you to see him while still concealing his apartment, something you definitely found strange because you’re usually flinging the door open and strutting right in, but you suppose his reaction is warranted considering your previous behavior. 

“Y/N, hey. Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine!” Your fingers tangle together in front of you, not entirely sure what to do with your nerves and Jungkook spots it easily. His own nerves sky rocket when he hears the sound of running water coming from his bathroom a few feet away, knowing Aillie would most likely pop out any second now, and he’s not sure why it feels like a dirty secret that he has another girl over. 

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I was actually wanting to talk to you about something kind of important.” Your smile is hopeful, despite the nerves swirling in your eyes. The nervous skip of your heart is felt in your throat, not remembering the last time you had felt this way about telling someone how you felt about them romantically. 

“Right now?” he wonders, fingers gripping the door handle tighter when he hears his bathroom door unlock, the sound of footsteps rounding the corner before stepping into the living room, a few feet away from the door and in perfect view of the wedge Jungkook had opened. 

When your eyes flicker over his shoulder, spotting the auburn haired girl giving you a curious glance, you feel all your confidence slip away. Seulgi had definitely been right about needing to confess soon, Jungkook was a catch and just because you hadn’t realized it sooner didn’t mean the rest of the world was blind to it. 

“Yeah, right now...but you’re busy, so it’s fine!” You want to scramble away from there, feeling dumb the longer you stand there. Jungkook wants to say he’s not busy, kick the girl out of his place and invite you in but that wouldn’t be fair to her, for all he knew your important conversation would be a repeat of the conversation you had over Hajoon, and he really didn't want to get friendship dumped while this girl was in his apartment. He’s pretty sure his Yelp rating would drop a bit if he cried on the couch about you to his old hook up. 

He starts to speak but you cut him off before he can, “Don’t worry about it! I’ll see you later.” You force a smile before walking away, not allowing him to get a word in as you quickly step into your apartment and move to the furthest room away from your bedroom. 

You can feel the cold of your kitchen floor as you sit on your butt, back against your cabinets, the small twinge of defeat spreading within you. “This is fine. Maybe she’s just a friend. I can always tell him tomorrow,” you whisper out. But your fingers seem to think otherwise as they type out a message to Seulgi, informing her that the mission was unsuccessful and you’d be putting on The Notebook like you always did. It was basically protocol to do so when things went south in your life. 

She doesn’t even know how to console you, knowing she can’t tell you it was his loss or that he wasn’t worth it because she knows that’d be a lie and you wouldn’t believe it for a second. The only thing she can offer is coming over, but you’re quick to turn her down, deciding that being alone in the comfort of your bed as you inhaled the ice cream you bought for Jungkook would be best. 

Is being in your room the wisest choice when you know you share a wall with Jungkook—and he has a cute girl over? No. Probably not. But you figure if you hear anything explicit it’s just your dose of karma, so you accept it, turning up the volume of the movie a few levels just to soften the blow. 

However, Jungkook would definitely not be hooking up with her in his bedroom, or anywhere in his apartment for that matter. Luckily Aillie is blessed with the gift of reading the damn room and can easily spot the shift in Jungkook’s mood the second he shuts the door. She’s sitting on the edge of the couch now, hands gently placed on her knees as she gives him a sympathetic smile. 

“I get the vibe that somethings off.”

He looks up at her then, slowing his pace until he’s awkwardly standing in the middle of the room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “My friend—my neighbor just wanted to talk about something. But everything’s fine.”

The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, and Aillie doesn’t believe him in the slightest. A small sigh fills the air as she stands up, collecting her bag and approaching him. “Look, I know deep talks really aren’t our thing so I’m not going to even try to dive into this, but you should go talk to your friend.”

A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder before she makes her way to the door to leave, Jungkook already following closely behind her. “No, you don’t have to go. You came all this way because I texted you with way too much tequila in my system.”

“Jungkook,” she laughs, opening the door with a smile. “You’re way too sweet for your own good. It was nice seeing you though.” Her eyes slowly move over to your front door before looking back at him, head cocking to the side in a very clear indication that he better go over. He can only nod in understanding, waving her goodbye and shutting the door once she heads down to the elevator. 

The action sounds of the movie they were watching continues to fill his apartment, whatever chaos was going on only making his brain whirl so he’s quick to grab the remote and shut it off entirely. Now he’s just stuck in complete silence, wondering if he should quickly make his way over to yours or play it calm and collected. 

The total silence allows him to hear the muffled mumbling of a movie he knew all too well. It draws him in, lures him into his bedroom until he’s kneeling on the mattress with his ear pressed against the wall to properly make it out. You were watching the Notebook, at a concerning volume, which could mean a number of things. Jungkook knew none of them were good, usually rooted in issues you had with your ex, or a tough day at work, or any particular day where you just felt like crying. 

With a deep breath, he’s slowly knocking along his wall, almost experimentally, hoping it's enough to grab your attention through the current scene playing. For a second he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep while watching the film, but then the room falls silent as you pause it entirely. 

Your hearts racing now, ears straining to hear anything else and hoping this wasn’t how the beginning of the explicit noises would start, but then another knock comes from behind you. It makes you gasp, like you’ve just been caught being the nosey neighbor you are, hearing the soft scrape of his hand sliding down the wall. The ice cream gets put onto your nightstand as you sit up properly, forcing yourself out of the mountain of pillows you were practically suffocating in and turning around to knock back.

Jungkook’s palm presses back onto the wall, smiling at your response before fishing his phone out of his pocket. His fingers find your thread of messages, further down the list than he was used to, and as he opens them up and sees the string of unanswered texts dating back to two weeks ago, it stings just like it did before. He pushes his pride aside though, knowing you had wanted to talk today in person, so he proceeds to quadruple text you. 

Jungkook 8:44pm : are you seriously watching the notebook again?

You’re unlocking your phone the second it buzzes, smiling at the dimly lit screen before typing out a response. 

Y/N 8:45pm : shut up, it’s my comfort movie

Y/N 8:45pm : do you wanna watch it with me? for old times sake

The device is locked and placed face down onto your sheets the second you hit send, sinking into the pillows once again as you try not to scream at yourself because you know he’ll hear you. Why would you invite him over when he clearly has company? You had seen her with your own eyes, had seen how cute she is, had seen how cute Jungkook is, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

Jungkook is quick though, texting back in agreement and heading over instantly. If you were watching your comfort movie then Jungkook wanted to make sure you were okay. Putting the past two weeks behind him, knowing you’d most likely have a good enough explanation—an explanation he would definitely be needing before the night was over—he’s knocking on your door before you can even check your messages. 

It takes you a minute to untangle your limbs from your covers as you hastily try to get to your door, sock clad feet sliding along your wooden floors when you finally yank the door open. Jungkook wears a soft smile as he stares down at you, taking note that you had switched your outfit to your usual sad movie binge attire of baggy shirt and lounge shorts. His eyes zero in on your lips when he notices there's something lingering at the corner of them. 

“So, are you gonna share whatever the hell that is?” His finger points at it smugly, laughing when your tongue peeks out to wipe it away. 

“It was actually meant to be for you.” Stepping aside, you let him enter your place. Jungkook almost feels a little strange being here after the weird few weeks, but he pushes it aside, just wanting things to feel normal. 

“Does that mean there’s no more left?” His eyes playfully narrow at you as you step closer, moving on to stare at the kitchen table, and the coffee table in search of the tub of ice cream that supposedly had his name on it. The earlier nerves you felt slowly fade away when you realize he’s not visibly upset about what happened, but it only makes your guilt deepen that despite your ability to be a crummy friend, Jungkook would still try his best to come through for you. 

“There’s about half of it left, it’s probably a little soft now though.” You side step him to enter the kitchen, grabbing an extra spoon and handing it over as a peace treaty, smiling when he gratefully accepts it. “C’mon, I paused the movie.”

Jungkook is not a stranger to your bedroom, especially when sappy movies were playing, finding his spot easily on the right side where he typically handed you tissues whenever you cried. The tissues were missing this time, in place of them being the bag of snacks you had bought, his ice cream on the other nightstand. 

“What part are you on?” he asks, settling onto the bed after fluffing up the pillows, waving his hands so you could pass the tub of ice cream his way. 

“It just started raining on the boat.” Jungkook hums, scooping out some of the chocolate ice cream and into his mouth. He knew this scene very well, and when you press play, he mentally repeats all of the lines. Just as Noah declares he wrote her 365 letters, you awkwardly clear your throat, your own spoon slowly sneaking over to his side to steal some ice cream for yourself. 

“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with your date.” Your voice sounds timid, something he’s not used to hearing from you at all, so he chuckles, laughing harder when you swat at his arm. “I’m serious, I should have texted you before just showing up.”

“Really? When have you ever done that before?” The two of you never notified the other when they wanted to show up, Jungkook had even given you the code to his place once when he was at work and you were desperate for some fruity pebbles—you used that code to your advantage and Jungkook never hated it. But all things considered, it's fair why you think you would have to give him a heads up. 

“You didn’t make it awkward though.” It’s not the complete truth, you coming over is what had made Aillie decide to leave, but Jungkook had to take most of the credit for it. “I kinda made it awkward from the beginning.”

“Why, what happened?”

“I went out last night with Jimin“ —you immediately hum in understanding, knowing very well how convincing Jimin could be with alcohol— “and apparently I texted her to hang out today, had no recollection, so when she showed up I was definitely not ready.”

“Damn, this is how I know you’re a better person than I am. If that happened to me, the second I checked my peephole and saw someone I didn’t remember inviting over, I’m gonna pretend I’m not home.”

“Yeah well, she lives like an hour away so I’d feel like an ass if I did that. Don’t think I’ll be talking to her again any time soon though.” He sighs in thought, gently tapping his spoon on the surface of the softening ice cream. There was one thing weighing heavy on his mind, needing to know what important thing you had to talk to him about, wondering if you were actually going to friendship dump him earlier and he had just made it worse by coming over and hanging out like old times. 

He doesn’t want to come right out and ask it though, not wanting to set himself up for an awkward conversation in case that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, so he settles for something safe enough that would allow him to get a glimpse. 

“So how are things with Hoseok?” Yeah, that’s a good start. 

“Huh?” Your spoon freezes in its spot, face clearly looking confused in the dim glow of the television, the movie long forgotten now that you were speaking. 

“Tinder guy? Yellow sunglasses guy that gave you mono?” 

It suddenly clicks again, having forgotten all about Jung Hoseok the second you had gotten home from the failed date and came to terms with your feelings. Your lie of having a cold must have been believable enough for Jungkook to genuinely think he had given you something like mono. 

“He didn’t give me mono!” Jungkook rolls his eyes with a playful smile, humming along like he totally believes you. “But I didn’t tell you?”

He frowns as he stares at you, not entirely sure how to take your tone. “Tell me what? That you’re engaged and the wedding is in June?”

“No way,” you laugh, swatting his spoon away with a clank as you grab some ice cream before shoving it in your mouth, fighting against the brain freeze to continue speaking. “Our date was a bust.”

“How? Was it that bad?” He desperately wanted to know, having convinced himself the date had gone spectacularly well and you were now an exclusive item. The small twinge of guilt is felt when he realizes he’s a little too happy that the date had been a failure, but he allows himself to have this small, tiny victory. 

“Mm, it was so good it was bad.” He looks utterly confused, and you don’t blame him, so you elaborate. “He was this perfect gentleman who just wanted to play games, like to the point where he had a notebook where he was tallying our points, and then he walked me to my car and kissed my cheek goodbye.”

“Oh the horror!” Jungkook gasps, setting his spoon down to clutch his heart in dramatics. “How dare he try to romance you with a game night.”

“Jungkook, shut up!” you laugh, finally feeling like everything was right again, sitting in bed with your closest friend as you teased each other. “Look, I’ll give him some credit. The date was nice, he was not the sleazy douchebag his profile made him out to be, and I’m sure he’ll find the perfect girl for him on Tinder. But he clearly wanted something serious and—“

“And you don’t want that right now. It’s fair.” Of course you would turn him down, you had just decided to embark on this new adventure in the single world. It was kind of dumb for Jungkook to assume one date with Tinder Boy would be enough for you to give up your short lived dream. 

You take a steady breath at his words before taking another scoop of ice cream, lips wrapped around the spoon as you slowly pull it out of your mouth. The nerves are trickling back in, making your heart skip and your eyes bounce around. If you don’t come out and say it now, you know you never will. 

Your spoon joins his in the tub of ice cream before you decide to move it back to the nightstand, forcing yourself to look back at him, seeing him turned away as he rummages through the plastic bag full of snacks. “I don’t want that with him.”

Jungkook freezes, the rustling of plastic ceases as his hands come back to his sides and he turns back around. With him. He was the king of jumping to worse case scenarios so his brain has no issues coming to this very horrible conclusion. 

“Have you been talking to Hajoon again?”

“No, Jungkook I haven’t.”

“Are you sure? I’m saying this now, but if you get back with him I will not hesitate to pop him in the face if I run into him in the halls. It’s fair game out there, neutral territory for him to get his ass beat—“

“It’s you.”

His brain short circuits at that, mini versions of himself currently running around and screaming in his head as he tries to make sense of this. The first instinct he has is to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t been talking to Hajoon again, and laugh it off. But you look a little too vulnerable right now, eyes nervously looking at him and then looking away at his lingering silence. 

“Wait, what?” It’s the only thing he can sputter out, caught off guard by your words, not wanting to say anything else in case the world was cruel enough for him to have completely misheard you. 

“I don’t want that with Tinder Boy or Hajoon, I want it with you.” It gets a little easier saying it a second time, but his reaction is hard to gauge. You had been expecting him to reciprocate the confession instantly, but the longer he looked shocked only made you think that you and Seulgi had been seriously wrong about his supposed crush. 

Jungkook is having a difficult time trying to go from you ghosting him to you suddenly admitting to liking him, the change in emotions not allowing him to say anything he had practiced in the mirror for so long. He can’t come out and give you a speech about how he thinks you’re the one, how you’re obviously a good match together, brain too focused on other details. “How long have you known this?”

“For the past two weeks, but deep down I know it’s been longer.”

His wide eyes glance over at you now, everything slowly clicking into place. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Yes,” you mumble, embarrassed over the way you had acted. The last time you had avoided someone was in elementary school, having a best friend go ask your crush if he likes you while you hid in the bathroom, scared of the answer. “I like you Jungkook and I knew I wouldn’t be able to play it cool. I was scared to say something and have you not feel the same and then have our friendship be weird.”

Jungkook smiles in that adorable way you love, nose scrunching up cutely as he leans closer, large palms coming to cup your cheeks. He has wanted to hear this for so long, and sure, maybe it wasn’t some super romantic confession over a candlelit dinner like he had occasionally dreamed of, but this felt right. 

“You’re so stupid,” he whispers out, thumb softly caressing your cheek as he chuckles, feeling the way your lips turn into a frown at his harmless insult. 

“Jungkook, I’m being serious,” you whine, heart still pounding in your chest. Your hands come up to gently wrap around his wrists, allowing him to continue to squish your cheeks with that endearing look on his face. 

“I’m being serious too Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Jungkook did everything he did with you out of pure friendliness, never expecting to get something in return from it, but there was a small sprinkling of a crush in every one of his actions. “I like you too, and I have for a really long time.”

The relief you feel comes instantly, lips slowly pulling into a smile when you finally have the confidence to look directly into his eyes again. If this is how light you feel after the two weeks spent freaking out, you can only imagine how Jungkook feels. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Now, can I please kiss you?” You’re nodding the second the question leaves his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his hands glide down to cup your jaw, soft lips slowly pressing against yours. It’s a gentle smack of skin as he pulls back, a smirk on his lips when he opens his eyes, softly rubbing his nose against yours. 

“Wait,” he breathes out, chuckling softly. “Is he still looking?” He has the nerve to repeat the same question that had been the root of your guilt, and when your eyes shoot open and glare at him, he can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out. 

“I hate you,” you mutter out, not an ounce of truth behind it. 

“Mm, no you don’t.” 

His lips find yours again, falling into a steady rhythm, softer and less rushed than the first kiss you had shared at the club. There’s no pounding bass in the background, or the taste of liquor on your lips, but Jungkook prefers it this way. He likes the low hum of the movie continuing to play in the background, the sweetness of the ice cream lingering on your lips when his tongue gently swipes at the seam of them, the way your hands slowly slide around his neck as he deepens each kiss. 

With each shared breath, you slide further down your bed, pulling Jungkook down with you until he’s hovering directly above you. His knees dig into the sheets, one hand pressed beside your head to keep himself stable as you urge him even closer to you. The delicate golden chain he wears kisses your skin, pendant settling onto your chest, the cool sensation is almost enough to distract you as his tongue slowly slips into your mouth. Jungkook groans when you let out a small gasp, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging gently at the strands by the nape of his neck. 

He wants to remember this kiss instead of the one from the club, embed every gasp you let out into his brain, the way your chest pushes up to feel more of him, how your hands slide down his back, leaving a fiery trail in their path that makes Jungkook shiver. And when you slide your thighs further apart for him, innocently at first, he can’t help it when his lips freeze on yours as you slowly roll your hips upwards. It gives him the same automatic reaction he had gotten at the club, all the blood rushing to his cock instantly, except this time he doesn’t feel the shame he had felt before. There was no ulterior motive to what you were doing, sincerity shown in your confession, shared within each kiss, so Jungkook allows himself to bask in the want he feels for you.

“Y/N,” he groans out when you repeat the action, pulling away from your swollen lips to stare at you through hooded eyes. You’re licking your lips over as your eyes slowly open, a small glimmer evident in them as you tilt your head and pretend to not know what you’re doing.

“What?” you question, leaning up to kiss the edge of his mouth, giggling when he attempts to chase your lips as you pull back, choosing to kiss down his jaw instead. As your tongue gently trails along the side of his neck, you feel the harsh gulp he takes, his fingers bunching up in the sheets beside your head. His neck has always been a weak point for him, turning him into a puddle in seconds, you knew this from the unfiltered conversations you’ve had and it was something you were definitely going to be using to your advantage. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he grunts, eyes fluttering shut as you nip at his skin, a visible shiver racking through him. 

“Of course I am,” you hum, letting your hands roam his back, sliding around his front until you’re sneaking past the white fabric of his shirt. When your cool hands meet his skin, he tenses, the muscles on his stomach tightening up as your fingertips trail up his body. You’ve known Jungkook was well defined, lean and toned in all the best places, having seen him shirtless a few times. But being able to touch him like this, feel each stuttered breath and jump of his skin reacting to your touch fueled you. 

Jungkook knows you can feel the racing of his heart now, your palms flat on his chest, each thrum revealing his emotions despite the cool and calm exterior he was trying to have. His hips lower towards yours, resisting the urge to rut into you as you start to suck on his skin. The low hum you let out vibrates against his neck, mixed in with the feeling of your wet lips, and he knows he’s done for. The final blow comes in the form of you swiping your tongue at the blossomed hickey, sweet voice pulling him back to earth as you look at him once more. “I want you Jungkook.”

Oh god, he couldn’t do this. His face pulls into a grimace, begging himself to not instantly cum in his pants at what you just said. How many times has he fantasized about this? Hoped you’d beg him for anything in that same exact voice, dreamed of you kissing and sucking on his skin like you currently were. Jungkook isn’t sure any amount of mental preparation would be enough for this. 

“Say that again please.”

You giggle, finger pushing back a strand of his hair as it falls over his face, tucking it behind his ear. The normal doe eyed look you were accustomed to is nowhere to be found, pupils blown out in lust as he stares at you. Being on the receiving end of this stare fills your stomach with butterflies, the flapping of their wings intensifying as he nudges his nose into yours. 

“I want you.” It’s breathless, spoken so softly through the background noise like a personal secret just for him. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing you say it, that much is proven true when you repeat it in between kisses, trailing back up his neck in the same path you had taken until you're speaking the words directly against his lips. He swallows them down greedily, groaning into your mouth when his tongue tangles with yours once more. 

“Fuck, you can have me baby.” He chuckles against your mouth when you start to tug at his shirt, yanking the thin material until he has to pull back and slip the tee off himself. The balled fabric gets tossed aside without a care, dark swirls of ink on his arm fully revealed now, each tattoo reminding you of how long you’ve known him, remembering the two pieces that he had when you first met. When he leans back over you, taking his time trailing kisses down your neck, onto your chest until his own hands are slowly tugging your shirt off of you, you decide there’s other things to focus on besides his glorious tattoos.

“Ah, Jungkook,” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair when he kisses the swells of your breast, warm tongue sliding over your nipple before his lips are wrapping around it. His large palm gropes the other, thumb flicking over the pebbled bud, smirking when you push your chest further out for him.

“What baby?” He pulls back to blow a gust of cool air on your nipple, the wetness of his saliva making your skin break out into goosebumps. 

“No teasing.”

Jungkook’s laughing now, eyes peering up at you through his lashes. “Oh, you think I’m not gonna tease you after what you did?” He tsks in disapproval as he continues to kiss down your torso, letting his hands trail down your sides, not stopping until he reaches the hem of your shorts. A kiss is placed above your navel as he pulls the shorts down your legs, toying with the waistband of your black underwear. “I’m gonna take my time with you.”

The build up before pleasure will always be your favorite part. The way his hands grip your thighs after tugging your underwear off, fingertips trailing up until his palm is pressing them further apart. It’s impossible to look at him now, the visual of his long hair framing his face as he starts to press wet kisses on your skin is too much to handle. You can feel the warm huff of air when he laughs as your head drops back onto the pillow once more, eyes slipping shut while you wait with anticipation. 

Jungkook wants to comment over how wet you are already, boost his own ego about being able to rile you up with just kissing, but he can see the way you’re already on edge, and he decides he can tease you some more later with what he has in store. Instead, he gives you what you’re mentally pleading him for. Finally pressing his soft lips to your folds, the short gasp you release as his tongue glides up before gently flicking across your clit has him shutting his own eyes, reveling in the way you react to his touch. 

His long fingers spread out your folds before he’s messily spitting onto them, watching the way the glob of saliva trickles down before he’s diving in, falling into the perfect pace with ease. It has your hips rutting up instantly, your hand uncurling its grip from your sheets to travel down your body and find its place tangled in his hair. Jungkook groans against your clit when your fingers grip tightly, yanking the dark strands as the prettiest moan flows out of you. 

“J-just like that, fuck,” you whimper, finally lifting your head up to stare down at him when he latches his lips around your clit and sucks. It sends a spark down your spine, stomach tensing at his rhythm, fully intent to have you fall apart. 

Jungkook wants to push you over the edge, knows he’s talented enough to get you there in record time—he was cocky in the best way—and the way your thighs tremble as he slowly sinks his finger into you proves his point. The slick coating your entrance allows a second finger to slip through with little resistance, a shuddering breath filling the air as he begins to spread his fingers apart, stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

It’s not until his fingers curl up, rubbing along the sweet patch inside of you and you moan out his name, that he realizes he has you right where he wants you. He can’t get himself to look up at you, to see the way your jaw drops as you plead for more. Jungkook knows if his eyes lock with yours too soon he’ll be too weak to be as cruel as he wants to be. 

The pleasure blooms inside you, hips rolling up into his in a way he welcomes, smirk spreading onto his lips when your moans get breathier. He eats you out with determination set in his brows, not satisfied until you’re tightening around his fingers, thighs threatening to close in on either side of his head. The messy way he slurps against you sends you reeling, rutting up into him with need, the wet thump of his fingers blending in with your moans of his name. 

“God, Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.” He believes you, eyes finally opening up to stare at you. The visual is enough to make his cock throb in his pants, your glassy eyed stare locked onto his, chest rising and falling in time with each choked breath. When he playfully winks at you, your walls pulse around him, seconds away from being pushed over the edge, and that’s when he pulls away. 

The warm glow of your orgasm approaching, just about to crest, gets ripped away from you instantly. It makes you gasp, thighs twitching as your hips attempt to push up back towards his mouth, but he’s having none of that. His shiny lips smile up at you innocently, head tilted to slowly kiss your trembling thighs, chuckling at the small cry of frustration you let out. 

“You taste good baby,” he hums, smooching the skin at the juncture of your thighs, circling around your clit without relieving the pressure you felt. The dull ache has your fingers releasing his hair in defeat, a frown etched onto your lips. 

“Jungkook, that’s mean,” you pant, sitting up and resting on your elbows to properly stare at him. 

“A little, but you deserved it don’t you think?” Jungkook didn’t want to tease you too much, he just wanted to get even for the past two weeks. “You could have had me between your thighs every single night if you would’ve said something soon, so I think you can be patient.”

A firm kiss is pressed to your swollen clit and it makes your whole body shudder, your head dropping back as you take a deep breath to control yourself. “I can’t be patient Kook,” you whine, head leveling back out to give him the most convincing stare you can muster. There's that crease between your brows that he likes when you pinch them together, hands gently raking through his hair, teeth pillowing out your lower lip as you bite down onto it. 

“Please, you can torture me later if you want but not now.” Your words have him cocking up his brow, hands once again gripping the meat of your thighs before he crawls back up your body. The feeling of his chain dragging up your skin has you shivering, breath catching in your throat when he hovers inches above you once more. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before his hand slips between your thighs again. A groan reaches his ears as his fingers circle your clit, covered in your arousal and his saliva, gliding with ease as he works you back to your ruined orgasm. 

His lips find yours, swallowing down the moan you let out when he quickens his pace. You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangling with yours with more urgency than before, messy and desperate in a way that had more arousal gushing out of you. The earlier pleasure reignites inside you, your hands sliding around his neck to keep him close, kissing him with fervor, quiet moans and whimpers slipping past between each smack of your lips. 

“Jungkook,” you barely manage to squeal, a few more flicks needed to finally push you over the edge. Your lips are slick with spit as you pull back, jaw slack as you lose yourself in the feeling, and Jungkook easily bookmarks this into his brain to go back to and daydream of whenever he’s bored at work. Your eyes are squeezed shut as the feeling flows through you, not able to see how Jungkook stares at you in awe. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers, slowly pulling his hand away when you keen at the sensitivity, thighs twitching on the sheets as the pleasure rolls through you in waves. You’re looking up just in time to see him slip his messy fingers into his mouth, tongue licking them clean and savoring the taste of you. Just as he slides them back out, your fingers wrap around his wrist and lead them directly into your mouth, sinking onto them with your eyes locked on his own. 

Jungkook’s cock jumps in its confines when you suck, tip of your tongue circling his fingertips before popping them back out with a smirk. There’s a brief moment of shock on his features before he’s jumping into action, quickly unbuttoning his jeans in haste that left you giggling on your sheets. 

“What happened to patience?” you tease, laughing harder when he pauses with one foot stuck in the hole of his jeans, a playful glare thrown your way. 

“Oh, now you want patience?” He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, slowly shuffling towards you as he stands beside the bed in just his boxers. Your hands make grabby motions for him, reaching for the waistband of his underwear to tug them down, licking your lips over as his cock springs out. It bobs in the air for a second, thick and heavy, precum collecting at the tip with the prettiest veins on the underside of it. Of course Jungkook and his pretty privilege would have a dick worthy of leaving you speechless. 

Jungkook allows you to ogle at him, confidently wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, hissing slightly at the sensation as he looks down at it, allowing spit to accumulate behind his lips before a string of it escapes and lands right onto his length to help the glide of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight, hand replacing his as he guides your motions, giving an experimental squeeze and enjoying how his abs tense up. 

“I’ve been patient for a long time Y/N. You said you want me right?” You’re nodding instantly, eyes looking away from his shiny length to stare up at him. “How do you want me?”

“Jungkook, just get over here.” He doesn’t resist when you let go of his cock, hands gripping his arm to yank him back onto the bed in a clumsy heap. His legs are a tangled mess, nearly ramming his forehead with yours from the force, shared laughter filling the air as you situate yourself. Jungkook had pictured this a thousand times and this is exactly how he imagined it, full of soft kisses, hushed laughter and goofy smiles, playfulness mixed in with lust all coming together perfectly to make the two of you. 

As he settles between your thighs, your sodden folds inches from his length, you can see the look on his face as his eyes glance in between both of your nightstands. Already knowing the question that was about to spill out, you beat him to the punch. “You don’t need one, if you don’t want to. I’m on birth control, and haven’t been with anyone since…” you trail off, not needing to specify.

Jungkook tries not to look too excited, really, but it’s hard. Every one of his lewd fantasies had involved being able to feel you entirely, and if your thoughts from that night were anything to go by, you definitely want the same. It takes him a second to speak, having to swallow properly to prevent himself from choking on his saliva and embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you smile, biting down onto your bottom lip as he fists his cock, slowly leading it to your dripping center. His free hand rests on your inner thigh, softly palming the skin as the head of his cock nudges against your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscles and into your heat. With his gaze locked down to where you connect, he sees inch by inch sink into you, finally bottoming out with a shared gasp.

Jungkook leans over you properly now, hand sliding up to lace with yours as the other rests beside your head, just taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped tightly around his cock. You welcome the stretch, the curve of his length inside you, how he cages you in with his body, eyes full of want staring directly at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze because he knows he can’t properly form a sentence right now. 

“Fuck me, please.” With his hips pressed flush against yours, he’s slowly inching back, letting you get used to his size with each thrust. It doesn’t take long before he’s rearing back entirely, thrusting forward with a wet squelch, corner of his lips curling up into a smirk when you moan out his name. Your hand curls around his shoulder, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself steady from the force of his hips. 

Each time the head of his cock would nudge against your bundle of nerves, your nails would sink into his skin, leaving half moon indents that left him groaning in pleasure. Jungkook hadn’t outright told you, but it had become increasingly obvious that he has a slight kink for pain, practically mewling above you as you scratch his back, fucking you with more determination than before. 

“You feel so good,” he rasps, slotting his lips with yours in a messy kiss. The back of your headboard starts to rattle against the wall, bouncing back in time with his hips, and it brings you back to the filthy thoughts you had before. How often you’d hear the same sounds on the opposite side, mixing in with the sharpness of skin connecting together, and you want it. So badly.

“J-jungkook,” you breathe out, letting him pepper more kisses onto you, hips never slowing down. “Can you do something for me?” The tone you use, coated in sugar so sweet he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Anything.”

It’s hard to concentrate on anything else while his cock continues to fuck into you, turning your mind into mush each time he sunk all the way in. He can see the way you try to focus, eyes falling shut with the cutest pout on your kiss swollen lips, finally grabbing onto the reigns of your mind as you spit it out. “Wanna feel you—fuck—spank me, please.”

Only then do his hips slow down, cock throbbing inside of you, fighting the urge to cum before fulfilling your request. The only confirmation that he was agreeing, wholeheartedly, comes when he pulls out of you, moving too quickly for you to protest at the loss of contact. The room spins for a second as his hands grip onto your hips and flip you over with ease, palms gripping the globes of your ass and softly patting them with a chuckle.

“Of course baby,” he murmurs, hooking his arm underneath your stomach to haul you up onto your knees, allowing you to steady yourself before he’s sliding into you once again. The change in position has you keening, his cock sinking deeper than before, the wetness dripping out of you helping him maintain the earlier pace he had. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, back arching in ecstasy as he hits your g-spot with precision, a tiny shriek of his name making him smile.

Jungkook keeps you on edge, strong hands gripping the skin of your hips tightly, mouth dropping open while he pants at the way you pulse around his cock, leaving it coated in your slick. His hand slides down to your ass, a gentle touch being your only warning before he’s pulling his hand back and delivering a swift slap to your skin. Your reaction is immediate, an unrestrained moan sounding like music to his ears. The sharp sting spreads directly to your core, your head bowing forward as you mentally beg him for more, your wish being granted seconds later when he repeats it on the other side.

If the wet sounds of his cock fucking you weren’t filthy enough, the added slap of his palm across your ass definitely topped it off. Jungkook had never seen you so needy, thighs coated in your arousal, gushing around him each time he spanked you until you were creaming his cock. The greedy way your walls suck him in, wanting him closer, deeper than ever, left him mesmerized. 

His hand soothes the dull throb on your skin, a trembling breath reaching his ears as he leans over your back, lips kissing up your spine up until reaching your shoulder. Hot pants of breath hit your skin, making you shiver as his lips trail along the edge of your ear. “Feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you mewl, voice trembling from the pleasure, rutting your hips in time with his. 

Jungkook’s way of love was a breath of fresh air for you, rough enough to exhilarate you, the force of his hips leaving you scrambling for purchase to prevent you from face planting onto the sheets, gripping onto your hair and tugging it back with enough force to make your body tingle. But it was intertwined with adoration, sweet praise whispered into your ear, lacing his fingers with yours to let you feel secure.

“You’re never getting rid of me baby,” he groans out. The low rasp in his voice makes you tremble, neck straining from his grip in your hair but the burn feels too good to pull away. His small confession has your heart skipping, eyes slipping shut to bask in the overwhelming feeling surrounding you.

“Good,” you manage to pant, “would never dream of it.” After four years of friendship, the beginning stages of getting to know each other, figuring out the right ways to flow with your different personalities, it's all out of the way now, so it’s incredibly easy for you to picture a steady future with him. The breakfast gossiping, shameless club outings, chaotic game nights with snacks thrown at each other, you want everything you already have with him and more. What you have, so rooted in sincerity, built off mutual respect for each other, blossoming into love so pure, you can’t imagine having this with anyone else.

“Y/N,” he gasps, the pulsing of your walls bringing him closer to his climax. “I’m close.”

You can only hum in agreement, burying your face into your pillow when he releases the grip he has in your hair, nipples rubbing against the sheets in time with his thrusts, the sensitivity sending sparks throughout you. Both his hands grip your hips again, dimpling the skin as he quickens his pace, the tantalizing roll of his hips intent to send you over before him. His eyes trail over the curve of your back, how you arch it further to feel more of him, sliding down to your ass, seeing the way it bounces back with each snap of his hips, how you weakly rut back onto him, pussy clamping around his length as your orgasm approached. 

Jungkook slides his hand around you, trailing across your tummy before slipping between your thighs to the spot you needed him most. Even with your face buried in the sheets, the moan you let out is loud enough for Jungkook to hear perfectly, body shuddering as he flicks across your clit in tight circles.  

“Kook, I’m cumming—fuck,” you shout out, white heat enveloping your body as you get sent over the edge. Your mind blanks for a minute, the intensity of your orgasm crashing over you so suddenly, making your limbs tense up while every nerve ending lights up. The only thing you can think of is him, chanting out your name while you pulse around him, sweet words coaxing you through your high, thumb rubbing along the skin of your hips as he never slows his pace. 

As he fucks you through it, groaning out at how tight your walls are around him, you have to turn your head to gasp in a breath, face feeling hot from it all. You can feel how sweaty your skin has become, the back of your neck feeling sticky as your turn to get a glimpse of him, body still shuddering from the aftershocks. 

Jungkook doesn’t have a care for his own volume now, moaning unabashedly as he pistons his hips into you with less grace than before. The soft mewls of overstimulation you let out just bring him closer to his release, thrusts getting sloppier as the pleasure takes over him. 

“Fuck, baby-” he grunts out, mouth dropping open as he moans even louder, finally falling apart. He pushes further into you, head falling forward as his hips press flushed against your ass, warm spurts of his cum filling you up in a way that fulfills your dirtiest fantasies. A few more shallow thrusts has the two of you gasping, hearts pounding in your chests, coming down slowly as he finally stills.

A serene silence falls over you, the movie long turned off in the background, only the low glow of the television letting you know it was still on. With great hesitation, Jungkook finally pulls out of you, gulping when he sees the thick globs of cum spill from your core, dripping down your thighs before landing on the sheets in a sinful mess. Your sheets are well and truly ruined, Jungkook would honestly suggest tossing them in the trash judging by the damp spot directly beneath you.

With a small groan, you’re flopping fully onto your stomach, thighs no longer able to keep yourself up, the exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungkook chuckles when he hears you, soothing your back with a gentle massage. “You’re not sleeping in here babe.”

“Why not,” you slur, cheek pressed against your pillow, eyes already shut. All you wanted to do was lay here, preferably with his arms wrapped around you, but Jungkook clearly has other plans. 

“Because it’s disgusting,” he laughs, giving you a few more seconds of rest before he’s moving around. The dip in the bed lets you know he’s gotten off, one eye peeking open to search for him, seeing him gathering his belongings from the floor.

“Where are you going?”

He shimmies back into his clothes with a grimace, gathering your own items before approaching you once more. “We are going next door and sleeping in my totally clean bed, c’mon.”

You only put up a fight for a second, secretly enjoying the way he helps you get dressed in your earlier clothes, heart swelling in your chest at how domestic it all feels. The mess in your room would have to be dealt with another day, the only important item being the ice cream that finds its way back into the freezer as you both head out of your apartment and swiftly enter his next door.

He’s just as delicate and careful in the shower, taking turns cleaning each other, large hands gripping your ass and giggling like a child when you wince at the small throb of pain you feel. Soft kisses are shared under the showerhead, warm water soothing your body as the room fogs up, sweet confessions scribbled on the glass in his messy writing, topped off with a heart. Jungkook stops you before you can wipe it away, shyly telling you that he’d like to see it reappear the next time he showers.

His bedroom was one you weren’t too familiar with, used to lounging in his living room the most, so as he settles into his bed after getting cozy in his pajamas, you wait for him to call you over before joining him. The coolness of his sheets has you sighing, snuggling into his side with a smile on your lips, one that Jungkook sees as he stares down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Seeing you draped in his clothes, cuddled up beside him in a way you’ve never done before, makes him feel like a giddy teenager. 

“Can I be honest?” he wonders, arm wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. When you hum in confirmation, he laughs sheepishly. “I thought you were going to friendship dump me today.”

“What, why?”

Your head bobs up as he shrugs his shoulders. “The way you were acting reminded me of the last time you told me you wanted to focus on your relationship. I was just scared I was going to lose you again.”

The tone he uses makes your heart ache, the same guilt you felt these past few days coming back when you put yourself in his shoes. You had no idea that the way you were acting would affect him this way, never once imagining that he thought you would cut off this friendship while you were just coming to terms with the fact that you harbored strong feelings for him. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you sigh, palm resting on his chest, feeling each beat of his heart, no longer racing like before, confident and steady in it’s pace because he knows you’re not going anywhere. “I’m stupid, and freaked out after what I did, and just needed to gather my thoughts before saying anything.”

He cranes his head away from you, a confused look on his face. “After what you did? What did you do?”

Fuck.

“Uhm,” you start with a strained laugh, refusing to look up at him out of embarrassment, but the truth has to come out so you power through it.  “So, the night of the date, I sort of got home earlier than I told you I did.”

His eyes narrow at you, refusing to give anything away before he knew where this was going. “Okay, go on.”

“And I sort of heard you through the walls.” You look up at him now, your guilty stare spelling it out for him. His eyes widen before he can conceal his surprise, cheeks warming up instantly because oh boy, he knew exactly where this was going. “And then, I sort of...joined.”

“You lied to me!” he shouts, shocked smile on his face as he recalls the way you had replied to his texts, telling him you had just gotten home and going the extra mile to say you were in a totally different room when in reality, you were sprawled out in your bed after just getting off to the sound of him.

Filthy. And also kind of hot. Jungkook was definitely into that, something he’ll totally proposition you into doing again because why not.  

“I know! I couldn’t help it, it was so hot, and I felt so guilty. But, you’re technically the reason why my orgasm gave me my epiphany and let me realize I really do like you. So, I think I did us both a favor by being a dirty liar.” He’s laughing instantly, fingers gripping your cheeks to turn your head up, planting a firm kiss onto your lips obnoxiously.

“Alright, you’re forgiven. Plus, consider us even because I have definitely heard you getting off on your own plenty of times too.” A squeal of surprise fills the air as you swat at his chest, burying your face into his shirt and feeling the rumble of his laughter. It really wasn’t ever intentional. The walls are thin, you weren’t exactly quiet, and he couldn’t just lay there and ignore it. So call him an opportunist, or a pervert, because you were one too. 

Jungkook is cheeky though, knowing how to get under your skin in the best way, and you can already tell you’re in for a ride when he gets close to your ear and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snort, peering up at him with mischief in your eyes.

“You did say I could torture you later.” He smiles innocently, fingers pinching your chin as he kisses you again. “It’s later.”

The sweet laughter that escapes you makes his heart skip a beat, still not able to come to terms that this was happening and wasn’t some dream of his that he’d wake up from. He kisses the tops of your cheeks first, then your nose, before reaching your lips, his hand gently caressing your skin. Jungkook had no intention of torturing you tonight, knowing how tired you typically were after work on a normal day, and after drawing two orgasms out of you that left you shaking, he knows how close you are to sleep with the way your eyes droop. 

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up on crushes and love?” he mumbles against your lips, inching back to stare down at you. 

“I’m glad I stopped looking for it in the wrong places.” Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with his hair before pulling him back to you, reattaching your lips because you just couldn’t seem to get enough of him. 

Every single moment you shared, from moving in and awkwardly trying to get to know each other, the ups and downs of failed relationships, the push that started it all at the club, and every almost moment in between brought you full circle to right now. There probably won’t be a moment where you don’t wish you had done this sooner, worked past your worry of ruining a good friendship in fear of what could happen, but the past helped mold you into who you are, strengthening your relationship to be the way it is now.

Right now had you thinking of the future, and there was nothing more exciting than that.

[harrywritingsbyme]

The one about Y/n and her Stuffie

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

This One Too

A/N: ITS BEEN OVER A FUCKING MONTH SINCE I LAST POSTEDDDD…but I’m backkkk🤪🥳😙😌it’s not the fic i originally planned on doing for my next piece, but since I’m currently in the middle of everything in my life rn, and this plot doesn’t have to be extremely thought out, i figured i’d do a hot lil fic for y’all. Enjoyy girliess...i hope it doesn't suckk🙃

When Harry came upstairs, he was expecting you to be doing just about anything besides what you were actually doing. As soon as he stepped foot into the doorway of the bedroom, Harry was stopped right in his tracks, completely focused on you, and beyond stunned at the sight in front of him. You were down to a tight little t-shirt and a little pair of panties, and you were humping one of the cute little stuffies he’d bought for you some time ago. You had your legs spread wide over the toy and both of your hands planted on the bed in front of you as you messily dug your cunt into the stuffed toy. Harry intently watched and listened as you tried to relieve yourself. He relished in the sounds of your desperate whines and moans, taking in all of your cries for daddy and how your pussy was in need of and completely throbbing for him. From where he was standing, Harry could clearly see how you were moving against the stuffed toy. You never let up with your movements, continuously digging your needy pussy into the stuffie. You were really intent on digging your clit into it and making sure to rub against the raised parts of the toy to get the most pleasure. And when you rubbed yourself just right, you’d go into a complete frenzy, trying to recreate and feel that exact feeling over and over again. 

As Harry stood there, not only could he not stop himself from pushing a hand into his pants to squeeze at his cock, Harry also had the inability to stop his mind from wandering and conjuring up all the things he could do to you in the position you were in. For starters, Harry could just picture himself coming up from behind you and pushing you down onto your front before tossing the stuffie away and replacing it with his cock. If he did that, Harry was certain that you’d have the loudest and prettiest screams and moans from being suddenly manhandled and from the sudden and intense pleasure. Harry also dreamt of you thrashing back and forth against his cock. Once you’re all done fighting with his cock and you’ve finally gotten all of him into that tight little entrance of yours, Harry could vividly picture you moving against him in the same way you’re moving against the stuffed toy. You’d have your hands planted on his chest and you’d be trying to get into a rhythm but you’d be quickly overcome by the pleasure and you’d just do whatever would give you the most pleasure. The vivid visuals of you moving on his cock are accompanied by the picture of your tits bouncing in front of his face. And the fact that he could see your pebbled nipples through your shirt only made the visual that much better. Those were just two of the many filth ridden thoughts that roamed Harry’s mind as he watched you. And with each and every one of these scenarios, while all being different from the last, you were gushing in no time, making a complete and very wet mess on the bed at the end of every one of them. 

Eventually, after a while of silently stalking you from across the room, Harry finally (and kind of begrudgingly) pulls his hand from his pants and makes his way over to the side of the bed where you were. He then brings a hand up to softly caress your cheek, to which you slightly jump from the sudden company. 

“What are you doing puppy?” He softly asks, watching as you continue to hump the stuffie between your legs.

“I can’t help it daddy! My clit hurts so good!” You pitifully slur, your eyes remaining snapped shut as you continue to move against the toy.

“Want daddy to make it stop hurting and feel good sweet girl?” Harry asks sweetly, continuing to stroke your cheek and watch you dig your clit into the stuffie, noticing you still had the jewel plug in from earlier in the day. 

“Please daddy! You can do anything you want just- m’throbbing so bad!” You whine in response, opening your eyes for the first time in Harry’s direction. Your eyes were all watery and he could see how bad you needed him and how subby you were feeling.

Without wasting anymore time, Harry swiftly maneuvers you both onto the bed. He pulls you down onto your back, completely abandoning the stuffie, before removing the little bit of clothes you had on from your body. He then proceeds to undress himself, practically ripping his clothes off before climbing between your legs. As soon as he does this, his attention shoots down between your legs to see what he was working with.

“Aww look, your little cunt is all swollen and sticky.” He coos, admiring how swollen and dripping you were for him. “So desperate; how pathetic.” He chuckles, bringing his hand down to pinch your puffy pussy lips between his index and thumb, getting his fingers covered in your juices. “What made you so needy baby?” Harry asks, keeping your pinched between his fingers as he lowers himself down between your legs.

“Just-“ You softly sigh, not wanting to give him the real, and slightly embarrassing answer.

“Just what?” He presses before bringing his mouth in and sticking his tongue out to lap up the juices that were spilling from the part where your two lips met. When he does this, you immediately try and snap your legs shut. But Harry stops you right in your tracks. “Close them and you won’t cum.” Harry simply, yet sternly replies, causing you to open your legs back up. “Good girl. But if you don’t answer, you won’t cum or get my cock.” Harry continues on.

“But daddy!” You whine, trying to get out of revealing why you were humping the stuffie not too long ago. 

“If you wanna cum, you better tell me. Or I could just suck on your swollen little button until you cry then jerk off right in front of you. It’s completely up to you.” You couldn’t argue with that ultimatum. In the state that you were in, the simple thought of not being able to cum made your eyes well up a little. 

“Fine…I was thinking about how good it felt when you took me after you pushed my princess plug in earlier.” You manage to finally spit out, struggling to do so from the way Harry kept squeezing your lips together. 

“So all of this is because my baby is a little cockslut.” Harry cockily relishes with a wide smirk spread across his face. “That makes it even better.” Harry hums before suckling on your clit. You didn’t even have the time to scream from how good his mouth felt because it only lasts a couple seconds before he’s letting go of your pussy lips and removing his mouth, moving himself back up your body. Stopping on the way up to sponge wet kisses onto your already pebbled nipples. Harry then attaches his lips to yours, trapping them into a sloppy, lust filled kiss. You let Harry do most of the work, keeping your mouth open and moving your lips against his. As he kissed you, you could hear Harry’s shaky breaths and moans, and you could feel him rutting his cock against your sticky cunt. This only made you need him more than you already did. You wanted to move around and try and push him inside, but Harry had you trapped pretty good. All you could do was move your head around a bit. So that’s what you did, you moved your head to the side, causing Harry’s mouth to break away from yours.

“Need you daddy!” You beg, wrapping your hand around Harry’s bicep that was right by your head.

“Y’always needing me, you’re my little cockslut remember?” Harry coos into your ear, using his other hand to blindly line himself up with your soaking entrance. “All you can think about is me splitting your little pussy apart to fit all of my cock in there.” Harry begins, bringing his hips in to start filling you up. “All you can think about is being pounded until I’m done using your pathetic little hole.” Harry grunts into your ear, bringing the other arm up to rest against the bed near your head. “I bet you like feeling completely powerless when I’m fucking into you.” Harry groans, feeling your tight walls around him as he practically pries them apart with his large cock. As Harry speaks and fills you up, you’re losing your mind below him. Not only are you losing the ability to even think, you’re also feeling and relishing in the pleasurable sting that came along with Harry’s cock and the full feeling that came along with it as well. On top of feeling incredibly needy, you were feeling subby as well, which only intensified the feeling and caused you to use your stuffie. All you could do was dig your nails into his biceps that were almost cradling your head and whimper as Harry made sure you felt everything he gave you.

Once he’s fully inside, Harry goes right into pounding you. And he doesn’t let up. He continuously slams his hips down into yours, pushing his cock all the way up inside of you again and again. With every thrust, there was a flick to your clit. He’d always come down, in, and up, causing you to feel everything inside and out. On top of all that, Harry had his mouth right up to your ear and you could hear his beyond animalistic growls. He kept asking you ‘Is this what you wanted?’ and he kept telling you how good of a fuck and cockslut you were and that he loved destroying you. 

Harry was on cloud nine to say the least. He had worked himself up enough leading up to this moment that he could be cumming any second now. But he decided to hold off a little longer. Not only were your insides, your perfect little walls feeling even more amazing, but he was enjoying being able to fuck you like this, all rough and filthy while you were feeling all small and subby. When you were like this, Harry would go on a bit of a power trip and just degrade you and fuck you any which way he wanted. And on top of that, he got to hear your whimpers and cries from how good it all felt in the process. With the position he had you two in, the same way his growls were clear in your ears, Harry’s able to clearly hear your cries and whimpers from how good it all felt. Harry thought your loopy moans and whimpers were music to his ears. He even heard you call yourself daddy’s cockslut, which only made him go even harder on your pussy.

“Please daddy! I need t’cum!” You whimper, holding on to his biceps for dear life as young for him to let you finally cum. Even though you weren’t being that good of a girl earlier when you were using the stuffie, you didn’t cum, which is a big rule of Harry’s, especially when you haven’t gotten permission. So you’d been holding this release for a long time now and you were dying to just let go already!

“Awww, does my baby’s pathetic little pussy need to cum around daddy’s big cock.” Harry coos patronizingly, continuing his never ending thrusts. 

“Can’t hold it anymore daddy!” You cry, beginning to squirm underneath his tight grip from how much this orgasm was consuming you.

“Go ahead doll, show me how much of a little cockwhore you are for daddy.” Harry pants into your ear before lifting himself up from on top of you, stopping to spit down into your mouth as he sits up. Harry then begins to feel your walls rapidly pulsating and convulsing around his cock. And to follow up, a warm stream of your juices begin to gush out of you, getting Harry and the sheets wet. But you were too busy feeling absolutely amazing to even care. Harry was in awe at how much you were squirting and he thought you looked absolutely adorable as you came around him. He also felt very riled up and anxious to have a similar release of his own. 

Once he feels like he’s given you enough time to ride the seismic waves of your release, Harry dives right back in, not skipping a beat with his intense thrusts.

“Can’t anymore daddy!” You cry out to him, trying your hardest to close your legs around him and push his body away from between your legs as you were just coming down from your first high and were already feeling another powerful release quickly building inside the kind of sore pit of of your stomach. 

“But you said you wanted it doll.” Harry reminds through his teeth as he pries your legs back apart. “You were so caught up in being a little cockslut you forgot about what you agreed to.” Harry chuckles down at you. He resumes his thrusts and then proceeds to slap your clit a couple of times, causing you to have mini releases, squirting onto him back to back with every slap he delivered to your clit. “Messy little slut aren’t you. Look at how much you squirt when I destroy your pussy.” Harry moans, continuing to deliver a couple more sting filled slaps to your oh so sensitive button, garnering a few more screams and squirts of your warm juices to his lower body. 

Harry then flips you onto your front, to which he pushes your legs apart a little more before sitting on top of them to keep you down before wrapping his hands around your hips and plunging back into you. You were already worn out so he didn’t exactly have to pin you down. As he fucks into you, Harry can feel his overwhelming release beginning to overtake all of his senses in the exact same way yours did. He began to feel even more pressure in the pit of his stomach as his impending release mounted and mounted, waiting to be released. 

When he’s just a mere minutes away from his release, Harry lays himself down on your back, keeping his mouth close to your ear as he sloppily delivers his final thrusts. You could feel him sucking on the area right below your ear as he reached the hilt of his release.

“And if there has to be one thing I love most about having you as my needy little cockslut, it’d have to be the fact you keep my cum all save and warm in that perfect little honey pot between your legs.” Harry growls before unloading every last drop of his cum into you. Your body was a complete and quivering mess as you took all of Harry’s heavy load, and as you gushed all over him and the bed for the second time. 

Masterlist

[lunar-wandering]

Disguised

happy birthday @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off!!!!! beloved, here is your touchstarved Wukong fic,

Warnings: panic attack/breakdown, Wukong does think some self deprecating thoughts, admittedly i dont think its that bad but thats just cause im the one who wrote it so make the judgement call and take care of yourselves yall

Word Count: 6k

Read on Ao3

It started simple, like all things did.

Really, the only reason he had been disguised as MK in the first place was because it was much easier to walk through the streets of the city as the Monkie Kid rather than as the Monkey King, and, well, he did need to get some groceries (he was running low on peach chips). If anyone asked him about anything, all he had to do was magic up a bag behind his back, and then hold up and claim that he was out on a delivery run, and was too busy to talk.

It ended conversations quicker than he thought possible, and he was, in all honesty, enjoying the peace.

But of course, all plans had their flaws.

"MK!"

Wukong barely kept himself from jumping at the sound of Mei's voice. He, of course, knew it was inevitable that he'd run into some of MK's friend's eventually, he just hadn't expected it to happen so...soon.

He could see Mei running towards him, and before he could even come up with a reasonable excuse to leave that wouldn't immediately pique her suspicion, she was slamming into him.

He choked as her arms wrapped around him, clinging to him with all the strength of a dragon (how MK survived these hugs without his invulnerability was nothing short of a miracle), a slight chill coming off of her, but not a discomforting one, more like the soothing chill of the ocean that surrounded Flower Fruit Mountain.

Despite his initial freezing in place upon the sudden contact, Wukong found himself... relaxing into it.

And then Mei was pulling away, a bright smile on her face, and it took all of Wukong's self restraint to not chase her arms and the comforting chill that came with her touch.

Were his tail not currently wrapped around his waist, he was certain it'd be thrashing.

"What are you doing wandering about?" Mei asked, and it took Wukong far longer than it should've to remember his usual excuse.

"Oh, uh, just, delivering some noodles?" He didn't sound as confident as he usually did, still thrown off by the sudden hug. He held up his fake bag, shivering as the motion made the air around him brush against his arms, which were now covered in goosebumps. He wanted nothing more than to put something heavier than the glamour of MK's sweater over top of them, to try and get rid of the horrible feeling of chills running up and down his skin. But he ignored it, plastering on the best smile he could, hoping it would be enough to convince Mei that everything was normal, like it always was.

Mei clearly noticed something was off though, if the way she looked him up and down was any indication. Her eyes narrowed at the bag he was holding, and Wukong, for a moment, worried that he'd gotten something wrong about the bag, that he was about to be called out for pretending-

But Mei just shook her head, clearly dismissing whatever thought had crossed her brain, replacing her slightly suspicious look with an easy going smile.

"Well, don't let me keep you from your job!" She gave a friendly smack to Wukong's back, and Wukong had to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from gasping. "Wouldn't want Pigsy to yell at you again!"

She wandered off in the direction of one of the music stores, and just like that, Mei was gone, as though the interaction had never happened.

But Wukong knew it had.

He was still shaking, after all.

Taking a deep breath, he turned down an alley, ducking behind a dumpster, glancing left and right before letting his glamours fall, summoning his cloud and taking off.

The sensation of the wind hitting his face, usually comforting, only burned. It felt like flying through fire, which made no sense, he'd flown through fire before, this shouldn't- something as simple as this shouldn't even begin to compare to-

He was sobbing by the time he collapsed onto his couch. Curling up against the cushions, squeezing himself as tight as possible, as though it could even possibly mimic the sensation he had experienced earlier. For the first time in a while, he wished he'd caved and bought a weighted blanket, but he'd worried so much that it would give him nightmares of the mounta- of that to actually go through with it.

He regretted that now.

The pressure would've- he imagined the pressure would've been somewhat comforting now.

He could hear the concerned chirps of the monkeys hovering around him, and he curled up tighter, so that they wouldn't be able to see his face.

The thought of what MK would think, if he saw him like this, all broken down over one simple hug, hit him, and, as much as he suddenly wanted nothing more than to pull himself together, the thought only served to make him break down more. He choked on his own breath with a sob, letting his arms loosen for a moment before tightening them around himself again, digging his claws into his skin, desperately wanting something to hold.

...Wanting something (or someone) to hold him.

He fell asleep like that, curled up on the couch.

When he woke up, he felt gross. Dehydrated, obviously, and he groaned as he forced himself to get off the couch, and stumbled his way into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes (they hurt, fuck they hurt, he'd have to put a cold cloth over them for a bit later), and filling a glass with water, hoping it would get rid of the headache he could already sense budding.

He hasn't cried that hard since- since-

The glass cracked under his hands, before shattering into pieces. It had been overflowing for a while, anyways.

Wukong sighed, ignoring the bits of broken glass now scattered all over his sink, grabbing another glass and filling it, downing it before any more thoughts could enter his mind. He was running low on glasses, actually. That was the third one he'd broken this month.

He really need to head out and buy more-

But. That would require disguising himself again. Running into MK's friends would be a possibility, again.

And if Mei's bout of physical affection was any sign-

...

Surprisingly, Wukong didn't find himself as opposed to that idea as he thought he would be. It wasn't like he got... hugged often, after all. He'd known that going without any form of contact for centuries hadn't done any wonders for his mental health, but last night was just.... well. Bad.

A part of him recognized that he could just go out as himself, meet MK's friends officially, and that they'd probably grant him a hug if he asked. He wondered, for a moment, what the other's hugs felt like.

Goosebumps formed on his arms, again, and he let out a sigh.

Now that the idea had been put into his head, there was no way it was going to leave.

...But a much bigger part of him was terrified of just going up to MK's friends and asking for a hug. Sure, he knew them, he'd interacted with them before, but he didn't exactly do it often. It would be... weird, wouldn't it? Not to mention with how much Wukong craved that contact-

They'd definitely think he was weird. He was meant to be invulnerable Monkey King after all, nothing was meant to be able to get under his skin. He couldn't- he couldn't just ask.

(Not to mention that, to be honest, he didn't have the first idea of how to ask).

But still, the craving was there now. And he knew it wouldn't leave.

There had to be- there had to be someway-

Mei had thought he was MK.

That thought hit him with all the strength of being hit in the head with a battering ram. (Something which, had, in fact, happened before, but Wukong didn't feel like getting into that now).

Mei had thought he was MK, so she'd hugged him. Because that's how she normally interacted with MK. MK was the physically affectionate kind of guy, Wukong had witnessed him spontaneously hug his friends multiple times.

Which meant that... if he hung around them as MK...

Wukong, of course, recognized that this plan could possibly have consequences.

But the thought of getting another hug was just too overpowering for him to overcome.

-

He waited, patiently (something that many people would think him incapable of), on a nearby roof, until MK had left the noodle shop.

...And then he waited a little more. Definitely just to make sure it'd be a reasonable amount of time between MK leaving and 'MK' returning.

Definitely not because he was nervous. Nope. No way. He didn't do nervous.

...Okay, maybe a little.

But that didn't matter, because there had definitely been enough time, and Wukong hopped down off the side of the building, down into an alleyway, throwing his MK glamour over top of himself before he even hit the ground, glancing side to side to make sure the coast was clear, before casually walking across the road and into Pigsy's Noodles.

Immediately, he was hit with the scent of soups and spices. He was abruptly reminded that he hadn't eaten anything that morning.

Well, whatever. It wasn't like he usually ate much more than some peach chips or his own hair anyways. He could ignore it.

"Heya Pigsy!" He called, purposefully making his voice as cheery as possible, trying to not let any sign of his nervousness through. Pigsy lifted his head up, raising an eye brow.

"Back so soon?"

"Yep, traffic wasn't as bad today!" He hoped Pigsy had no way of disproving that. Did mortals have traffic apps now? Wukong had no idea. Subtly, hoping that this wasn't abnormal, Wukong slipped around the counter to stand beside Pigsy, close, but not exactly touching. His initial plan, was to simply reach his arm out and wrap it around Pigsy's shoulders, casual, like MK normally would.

He hesitated before he could even lift his arm.

Pigsy didn't even seem to notice, humming to himself as he moved away from Wukong, working on another batch of noodles.

"Well, you can relax a bit, kid." He said, completely oblivious to the way Wukong had slumped behind him. "Haven't got any new orders for ya, today's been a bit of a slow day."

Wukong tensed.

That. That wasn't good.

His plan had, in full, been to come in, get a dose of human contact, grab whatever take out order that needed to be delivered, send a clone to drop it off...wherever it needed to go, and then go home to process the aforementioned human contact.

He couldn't do that if there weren't any orders to be delivered.

Not to mention, the real MK could return from his delivery run at any time. If Wukong hovered around for too long, he'd get caught.

The last thing he wanted was to get caught. Especially this early. He hadn't even gotten the contact he was craving yet.

While Pigsy's back was turned, Wukong pulled his phone out of his pocket, running through his history until he found the website for Pigsy's Noodle Shop's, quickly placing a mobile order. Pigsy's own phone dinged, and Wukong shoved his phone back into his pocket before Pigsy could even turn around.

"Oh, guess we do have a new order-" Pigsy paused as he glanced up, seeing how tense 'MK' was. "You doing okay, kid?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, I'm fine. Everything's fine!" Wukong hurriedly tried to cover up, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent a nervous smile from forming as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Pigsy gave him a look of concern, but seemed to brush it off, as he turned back around to finish up the order. Wukong let out a sigh of mild relief, staring at Pigsy's back.

He only had a few more minutes to get some form of contact. But how was he going to do that? Man, he really should've planned this better-

Somehow, he ended up so caught up in thinking about how to initiate some form of contact, that he didn't notice Pigsy had finished the noodles and was standing right in front of him until the pig demon's hand was ruffling his hair.

Wukong froze, his mind blanking for a few seconds.

Pigsy's hand was warm, and it was almost like the warmth travelled from the tips of his fingers down to every nerve in Wukong's body. It was...soothing. Like standing under a warm shower.

He managed to pull himself back to reality just in time to stop himself from purring. (That definitely would've given him away. Normal mortals couldn't purr after all. Or, well, at least, he didn't think so).

"Here ya go, kid." Pigsy handed the bag over, and Wukong took it with shaking hands, which he desperately hoped weren't noticed. "Y'know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

Pigsy's hand left Wukong's hair, and Wukong took a few seconds to remember that he could, in fact, speak.

"Oh- um, yeah? Uh- I mean- yes! Anyways I better deliver this- see 'ya Pigsy!" Wukong avoided looking at Pigsy's face, knowing he'd probably find either suspicion, or, worse, concern written there. Turning, he walked out of the noodle shop, scurrying back to an alley way before turning back into himself, summoning his cloud and flying back home.

He spent the next few hours, staring at a bowl of noodles he quite frankly didn't want to eat, while running his hands through his own hair, trying to mimic the sensation of Pigsy's hand ruffling it.

Nothing he did seemed to recreate the sensation accurately, but it was, at the least, somewhat soothing.

-

He found Tang in the library.

It was to be expected, after all. He knew that Tang liked to read, and it was an easy jump to make that he'd find the scholar at the library.

What he hadn't been expecting though, was to find him reading books about the Monkey King.

In some way, Wukong almost felt honoured.

...It was a little weird, seeing his own life written down though.

But Wukong shook it off. His goal here wasn't to revisit old memories through the form of fairytales, he was here to find out what- what contact from Tang felt like.

He wasn't entirely sure how he was going to go about getting contact this time. Thus far, all the contact was initiated by the other party, Wukong hadn't had to do anything.

...But considering that he'd been standing directly beside Tang for the past ten minutes and the scholar hadn't so much as glanced at him, Wukong figured he'd have to try some other tactic.

He cleared his throat, some amusement breaking through the wave of anxiety as Tang jumped, startled by "MK's" sudden presence.

"Ah, MK, how long have you been standing there?"

"Oh, not long." Wukong lied, pulling out a chair beside Tang, and looking over his shoulder, once again, close, but not touching. "What're you reading?"

As though he hadn't already recognized the story just from one glance at the accompanying artwork. He had lived through it after all. He felt his tail twitch against his waist with the want to break loose to swing back and forth with anxiety, but he pushed down the impulse, choosing to bounce his leg up and down instead.

Tang spared Wukong's leg a brief glance (the anxiety grew worse- did MK not bounce his leg?? He could've sworn most humans did-), before ignoring it, moving the book over so that Wukong could see it better-

Tang's arm lightly touched Wukong's, and remained there, as the scholar began explaining the details of the myth, and how he was hoping to help "MK" learn a new power using Wukong's stories as reference.

But Wukong wasn't paying any attention to that.

No, all his attention was on the hair raising sensation of Tang's arm brushing against his. Like Pigsy, his touch was warm (and that was the thing with mortals wasn't it, they were always warm), but not in the same way. Unlike Pigsy's touch, which reminded Wukong of a shower or a warm home cooked meal, Tang's touch almost felt like standing next to a fireplace, drinking hot chocolate, curled up under a blanket.

He had no idea how one single touch was enough to create a sensation like that, but Wukong could think of no other way to accurately explain the sensation travelling up and down his arm.

The only problem with this, was that Tang wasn't moving away.

With Mei, she had hugged him yes, but she had also let go mere moments after. Pigsy's hair ruffle had really on lasted a few measly seconds.

It had been 2 minutes of Tang leaning against him, and the scholar was still deep in explaining the story sitting on the pages in front of him.

Wukong's skin was covered in goosebumps, but at the same time it felt like he was burning alive. Again.

As much as he'd been craving the contact, he had to find a way to end it.

...Before he broke down again.

Thankfully, his salvation came in the form of his own phone ringing.

Tang paused mid-sentence, and Wukong fished his phone out of his pocket, automatically hanging up- not even bothering to glance at who'd been calling him, before holding the phone to his ear and pretending he had answered.

"Hello? Oh- yeah, yeah, definitely." He nodded, standing up, pushing his chair in behind him. "Sorry uh- Mr. Tang, but Mei uh, needs me for something."

"Oh, don't worry about it MK, I can just continue telling you about it later." Tang waved him off, and Wukong winced at how confused MK would probably be later.

Hopefully, MK would be confused enough to just not say anything about it and let it happen.

Still though...

Sparing a moment, Wukong kicked the edge of the table, in just the right way to make it seem like he'd simply stumbled-

And also knocking a book off of Tang's pile of research, using the slightest bit of magic to open it to the page he knew would contain something that would actually help MK grow stronger.

He, himself, may not be the best teacher, but he at the very least could give the better teachers hints at what to use.

-

Running into Red Son had been a genuine accident.

Wukong had actually been on his way to Sandy's boat-house, already wearing his MK glamour, when he'd turned a corner and walked right into the fire demon, Red Son yelping, falling backwards-

And Wukong reached out, grabbing onto Red Son's wrist, pulling him back onto his feet.

As soon as Red Son was stable, Wukong pulled his hand back, subtly shaking it to try and get rid of the tingles that had come with the contact.

Unlike with Tang and Pigsy, Red Son's type of warmth was completely different. It almost reminded Wukong of a raging bonfire.

Well, he supposed that was justified considering-

"Noodle Boy!" Red Son dragged Wukong out of his thoughts, as the fire demon readjusted the grocery bags he was carrying. "Where are you heading at this hour?"

"To Sandy's." Wukong didn't see any point in lying. It's not like it would be seen as weird for MK to go to hang out with Sandy, after all.

"Hmph, whatever." Red Son shifted to dig around in one of the grocery bags, pulling out a package of spicy chips. "Well, since you're already here, I suppose you've saved me the effort of walking all the way to your house to drop these off."

"Oh, uh. No thanks, I don't need any more chips right now, I'll uh. I'll just be going-" Wukong went to walk past Red Son, but automatically froze in place as the demon's expression turned to one of extreme suspicion.

"You sure? You're normally ripping a bag of these open as soon as it hits your hands." Red Son said, lightly shaking the package to emphasize his point, his eyebrow raised. Wukong took just a moment too long to come up with a response. Red Son's eyes narrowed. "You're not the Noodle Bo-"

"Sorry gotta go see Sandy k'bye!" Wukong didn't leave a single space for interruption, barely even remembering to not summon his cloud as he took off as fast as he could, leaving Red Son sputtering behind him. A fierce panic started to strike through his chest, filling it with an uncomfortable tense heat, like he had to move, had to do something to make it stop or it'd only get worse-

He was hyperventilating by the time he made it to Sandy's boat. He gripped the side rail of the boat with a white knuckle grip, denting the metal (it'd buffer out. Probably). Staring down at the water, at the glamour of MK's panicked face reflected back at him, he took a deep breath, trying to pull himself back together.

He was here to visit Sandy. Things were fine. Red Son may have- may have figured out he wasn't MK, but that was fine. It wasn't like he'd figured out who he actually was. Hopefully, if things went right, Red Son would just blame the incident on Macaque. That- yeah, that's probably what Red Son would do. He had no reason to think that Wukong would be waltzing around as MK after all. He'd definitely blame it on Macaque. Yep. One hundred percent. Wukong didn't even have to worry about it.

So why was he still worrying about it?

"You doing okay lil' man?"

Wukong jumped, his hands firmly bending the metal rail in a way that definitely wouldn't buffer out, as he spun around, looking up at the concerned gaze of Sandy.

"Uh, mhm, yep, fine!" He said, wincing as his tail, which was swishing in anxiety behind him, thrashed hard enough to hit the side of the boat, sending a small sting of pain through his body. Sandy hummed.

"Well, how about you come help me make some tea, I was just getting ready to make another batch." He said, his voice calm, and Wukong took another deep breath, letting it out slowly.

He followed Sandy into the inside of the ship.

-

Making tea with Sandy was, Wukong had to admit, one of the most relaxing things he had ever done. Admittedly, waiting for the water to boil, and measuring out the right about of tea leaves was a little boring, but the little cats that sometimes came up to rub against him as they worked made the whole experience far more interesting than it would've been normally.

Not to mention the fact that Sandy's presence was, overall, really soothing. There was something about him that just, made Wukong feel like he was safe. Like he could relax fully, for once.

"Excellent job!" Sandy said, breaking the silence they'd fallen into as he placed a hand on Wukong's back. Wukong tensed automatically, tail stilling from it's lazily relaxed swishing.

Sandy's hand shifted from Wukong's back to his shoulder, and Wukong relaxed, just the slightest amount, as the water demon used his thumb to rub a comforting circle on Wukong's shoulder. Sandy's touch was cool, and reminded Wukong of the ocean, very similar to Mei's, but, he was now realizing, Mei's touch felt more chaotic, like waves, while Sandy's felt more gentle, like a mixture of ripples on the water and a nice summer rain.

Basically, to restate the obvious, it was very relaxing.

Wukong hummed to cover up the purr that had started to form in his throat, leaning into the other's touch. Sandy either didn't notice or didn't seem to mind.

"Y'know, this is much better than I was expecting for your first time." Sandy mused, and it took a Wukong a few seconds, in his relaxed state, to register that sentence in his brain.

Hesitantly, he took a step to the side, Sandy's hand easily sliding off of his shoulder.

"...What do you mean?" Wukong gripped the edges of the tea cup in his hands nervously, one of Sandy's cats rubbing up against his leg as it sensed his anxiety and tried to calm him down. "I'm sure we've done this before."

"With MK maybe." Sandy was calm, even as Wukong slowly started to stiffen. "I do believe this is my first time making tea together with you, Monkey King."

Wukong felt pure hot anxiety run through him, washing away any hint of the relaxation he had been feeling mere minutes before. His tail went from utterly still to thrashing back and forth-

His tail.

It was- After the interaction with Red Son, it must've slipped out from under his clothes while he was running-

Sandy had known- had known that it was him from the beginning-

"Monkey King? Are you okay?" Sandy reached out a comforting hand, but-

Suddenly, contact seemed like the last thing Wukong wanted right now. Not when Sandy knew it was him.

Sparing no second glances for Sandy's expression, Wukong ran. Didn't even pause as he heard Sandy call out for him.

He did pause though, when he nearly ran into MK in the door way.

They both froze, staring each other up and down.

MK's eyes narrowed, before latching on to the tail that was still wildly thrashing back and forth.

"Monkey King? What-"

Wukong brushed past him, his glamour dropping as he did so, bearing no mind to his successor's surprised yelp as he summoned his cloud, fleeing back to Flower Fruit Mountain.

He could only hope that MK wouldn't follow him.

Heavens, he'd been so stupid, so so stupid, to believe he could keep this up. Of course they'd figure him out. Now they'd all know how much of a natural disaster he was, weak to the point of needing to disguise himself as someone else just to get a measly dose of human touch.

He was a mess.

Sandy had figured him out.

MK had seen him.

He couldn't calm down.

He practically crashed into his house, not bothering to close the door behind him as he stumbled, the world blurring as tears formed in his eyes.

Stupid. He was so stupid.

His back hit a wall, and he jumped away instantly, thoughts of tumbling rocks and heavy mountains jumping to the forefront of his panicked mind as he continued to hyperventilate. He stumbled over his own feet, tripping and falling backwards.

A strangled laugh left his throat. The Monkey King, stumbling and falling to the ground over something as little as this? He was pathetic.

Some of the monkeys started to gather in the room, their little eyes reflecting their worry for them, and Wukong curled up on the floor, burying his face in his knees.

The room went silent save for the sound of Wukong's choked sobs.

And then the air shifted.

"What's the matter Great Sage? I don't think I've ever seen you this worked up."

Wukong may have been in the middle of a panic attack.

But he still had enough mind to pull a little flashlight and shine it in the general direction of his shadow.

Macaque came tumbling out, rolling on the ground, letting out a small pained groan as he did so. Slowly pulling himself up, he turned back to face Wukong, about to open his mouth to say some quip about Red Son breaking into his dojo and outright accusing him of running around disguised as MK and really, what was the great Monkey King doing running around pretending to be his successor-

But froze, no words passing through his mouth as he registered the way Wukong's shoulders were shaking, his ears twitching at the sound of the muffled sobs and panicked gasps for breath.

The Monkey King's heart was racing.

"Hey, seriously." Macaque softened his voice, scooting closer to Wukong's side, hovering, but not touching, unsure of how to proceed. "What happened?"

Wukong just shook his head in response, and Macaque tsked, absentmindedly grabbing the edge of his own scarf to chew on it as he thought.

After another minute passed, and Wukong's trembling and gasping didn't stop, Macaque let out a sigh, before laying against Wukong's side, wrapping an arm over the other monkey.

Wukong stiffened, and, at a loss of any other options, Macaque started to purr.

It took a while, but gradually, Wukong started to relax, his breaths slowly starting to even out, his sobs fading.

Before Macaque had even knew it, Wukong had fallen asleep.

Slowly, careful not to wake Wukong up, Macaque stood. One of the monkeys slowly crawled over to him, glancing between him and Wukong with obvious concern.

"Heh. I don't know either little guy." Macaque gave the small monkey a light scratch on the head, before returning back to the problem at hand. Wukong continued to sleep undisturbed, oblivious to the shadow monkey that was steadily analyzing him.

Finding no obvious signs for the reason behind Wukong's little breakdown, Macaque slumped, pinching the bridge of his nose before he bent down, easily lifting Wukong up (okay, so maybe he used a little magic to do it, so sue him), he carried him to the couch (Wukong did not, in fact, have a bed. Macaque had overheard MK being all concerned about it. Wukong had only waved the kid's concerns away). One of the monkeys dragged a blanket into the living room, carrying it using it's mouth. Macaque took the blanket with a grateful nod, and carefully draped it over Wukong's asleep form.

Taking a step back, he sighed again.

This was way above his knowledge of interaction. He was going to have to call in the others on this.

-

Wukong woke up to the sound of voices.

He was on the couch. He didn't remember falling asleep on the couch, but that wasn't really anything new. There'd been plenty of mornings where he'd woken up without any knowledge of what had happened the night before.

Sometimes it was a blessing.

Now he was just confused.

His body still felt exhausted, heavy, and he rolled over to bury his face deeper into the cushions, hoping that maybe if he slept more he'd feel better the next time he woke up.

"Why didn't any of you tell me about it?"

"We figured it was just some of the usual Mystic Monkey Business!"

"That's not really an excuse here, Mei."

Mei. MK.

Why were they in his house?

Groaning, the sound of him moving causing his uninvited house guests to go silent, Wukong pulled himself up slightly, blearily opening his eyes.

"What're you doin-" He broke off, his eyes widening as he caught sight of not just Mei and MK, but Tang, Pigsy, Macaque, Red Son, and Sandy-

Sandy.

All at once, the memories of yesterday came rushing back, and Wukong abruptly sat all the way up, breath quickening.

"Oh not this again." Macaque muttered, getting an elbow to the ribs from Red Son for his comment.

Sandy quickly took charge, stepping to stand beside the couch, reaching his hands out, and, upon no action of protest from Wukong, lightly set his hands on the monkey's shoulders, rubbing comforting circles.

"Hey." He said, "You're not in trouble, Monkey King."

Wukong let out a noise that even he'd describe as pitiful, curling up so that the other's couldn't see his face. Sure, Sandy's touch was nice, comforting, and he could feel some of the anxiety recede, but the idea of meeting anyone's eyes right now just seemed like too much. Far too much.

"Breathe, Monkey King." MK said, suddenly climbing onto the back of the couch, his legs just inches away from brushing against Wukong's side. Mei was close behind him, leaning against the couch.

"You know you're safe with us, right?" Pigsy sat down on the couch to Wukong's right, Tang easily sliding in the small space that remained. Red Son moved to hover beside Mei, while Macaque simply sat on the floor in front of the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

Wukong nodded into his arms.

"Then why won't you look at us?" Tang asked, and well, there were multiple ways Wukong could answer that.

For one, he was fairly sure the glamour that usually covered his red eyes was at least part way down, and he quite frankly didn't want to freak any of them out with the sudden eye colour change.

And secondly, most importantly, even if he knew he was safe with all of them... It didn't change the fact that he was still oh so scared.

"Hey, it's fine if you don't wanna look at us." Pigsy reassured, "We just, want to know. Why have you been running around disguised as MK?"

The room went silent as they waited for Wukong's answer. Wukong's tail thrashed back and forth.

"It just..." Wukong started, voice quiet and broken, before he cleared his throat. "It just... felt, nice, I guess. I was just- just using it to avoid attention from the town, at the start. But then- then Mei hugged me and I-"

Wukong couldn't bring himself to explain any further, burying his head deeper into his knees. Sandy's hands froze for the briefest of seconds before starting up again.

Wukong glanced up when he felt a warm hand touch his knee.

"Hey." Pigsy said, giving him a sad smile as the Monkey King met his eyes. "You know you could've just asked, right?"

Wukong looked away again, this time with a light dusting of pink over his cheeks.

"...I thought you'd think I'm weird."

"For asking for a hug?" Mei let out a small laugh behind him, "Please, that's not weird at all. And even if it was, Mr King, we've seen you do far weirder."

"That time you bit into a lemon like it was an apple, for example." Tang said, leaning forwards onto Pigsy's shoulder as the both of them gave him a reassuring smile. Wukong still didn't meet their gaze.

"...I thought you'd think I'm weak."

"For asking for a hug?" Red Son, surprisingly, scoffed. "Not even I think that's weak."

Macaque let out a hum.

"Y'know, you used to be really physically affectionate." He mused, "Out of all people, you weren't one I'd expect to have this kind of problem. But that really doesn't make you any weaker."

Hearing that kind of reassurance from Macaque, of all people, was almost enough to make Wukong break out into laughter then and there.

But he didn't.

"...I thought you'd be disappointed in me."

They all went quiet at that. Processing it, what it meant.

"...Monkey King." MK said, "Sure, you aren't exactly the great hero I expected you to be, but I would never be disappointed you in asking for something that literally everyone needs. If anything, the fact that you even think this just- Sandy move over-"

Sandy complied, moving out of the way, and MK slid down from the back of the couch onto the couch itself and-

Oh.

Warm arms wrapped around Wukong, squeezing him as MK held him in a hug. A sensation not unlike that of a warm summer day washed over him, like he was laying in a meadow surrounded on all sides by the warmth of the grass.

Without thinking about it, he relaxed back into the contact, and the others took that as an opportunity to join in.

And it felt-

It felt nice.

Nostalgic. Like something he'd forgotten long ago. Then sensation that almost felt like a warm galaxy was being blown over his skin, bringing old memories back to the surface, memories of-

Them.

Before he could even notice or attempt to stop it, Wukong was crying again.

The others didn't let go. Thankfully. Wukong wasn't sure he ever wanted them to.

He'd gotten his family back, he realized.

He wasn't going to loose them ever again.

[dienamights]

Ex’s and O’s | K.Bakugou

» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

» Word count: 6.7K

» Genre: hurt/comfort, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au

» Summary: Its bad enough that you’re spending your ex-boyfriend’s birthday curled up in bed, wearing his merch, drinking away your sorrows, but what’s even worse is having your eardrums pierced by the blaring music upstairs at the party thrown just for him.

» Warning(s):  Smut 18+ MDNI please, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, dubcon since reader is under the influence while getting dicked down, drunk sex, oral sex and fingering (female receiving, we getting fed tonight), one pussy slap lol, manipulation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)

» Author’s notes: Hello! aaaah I’m actually pretty excited about posting this fic! First of all, its Bakuhoe’s birthday! and what better way to honor it than to feed you all some good ol angst sprinkled in with some good dickin’ down. Its been years since I’ve written smut and I’m actually really fuckin proud of it, yet real nervous but I hope you enjoy! Secondly, this fic is a part of Bakugous Birthday Bash! I’m so excited to read everyone’s work, thank you everyone for holding this event and allowing my ass participate to create this with you all ♡ be sure to read everyone’s contributions, I know it’ll be more than amazing since everyone worked so hard!

Happy Birthday to our favorite King Explosion Murder♡♡

Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their support and helping me reach 200 followers already! You guys are the cutest thing ever and I promise I’ll update more frequent the minute I’m out of uni late june fml, thank you @tteokdoroki for giggling with me when i wrote cock for the first time lol

» Masterlist | Requests

Rolling out of bed and flailing onto the floor as a start of your day ensures you that the following 24 hours will ultimately suck ass. Getting up and readying yourself for the day by looking through one of your cardboard boxes for your favorite Dynamight hoodie, the back of your mind keeps nagging you, trying to remind you of something buried deep in your subconsciousness, and you have half a heart to try and remember, because for some odd reason, you feel so fucking weary, as if the few steps from your bed to your bathroom are somehow now endless miles, almost making you breathe out in relief after finally reaching it.

And as you are making your coffee, that odd feeling keeps annoying you again, prodding at your brain to remember something, something. And ultimately, that's when your eyes fall to the counter. You knew this day was coming and you were dreading it for months, so as you look at the calendar on your kitchen counter, you frown, the quote of the day you always love reading so much long forgotten when your eyes fall on the date. 

“You’ve gotta be kiddin' me.” You mumble at the calendar on your counter hatefully with furrowed eyebrows, as if it would either reply or change its date, it doesn’t do either, and your lips curl downwards even further. As in immediate response, you pick up your phone, your coffee pot tossed aside as you dial the number of the only person you could think might help you right now.

“G’morning y/n -” you hear Kendo’s voice through your phone, and you honestly want to sob right then and there, but you hold yourself, barely and speak over her overly cheery voice first thing in the goddamn morning. “It's Kats- Bakugou’s birthday” you whimper at the slip up, being so used to the first name basis you were in with your now ex-boyfriend.

“Yeah, was kinda hoping you would’ve forgotten.” She sighs, tugging at her bangs and pulling back her phone to check the time. “Tell you what, I get off work in an hour, then I’m spending the day with you. I’ll get tequila, I know you love your shots.” 

“Ken, it's like 10 right now..” you can’t help but pout, having alcohol in your system as an escape to help you forget about the entire day still sounding better than the urge to cry and crawl into a hole, even if it's at the start of your day. “Y'know what? Get those gummy worms I like too.” “Bet.” you hang up with a sigh, moving back to the kitchen to sift through your bubble wrapped kitchen utensils, barely forcing yourself to prepare breakfast as to not have your liquor on an empty stomach.

You loathe the fact that you remembered his birthday, always reminded of him no matter how long ago since you’ve last seen him, being the center of the media’s attention for years as the number 6 hero in japan has its perks, well, in his case, but to you? Nothing but trouble and heartache as every channel you flip through plasters his face, whether it be about some big rescue mission he partook in or a new rumor about a potential lover to the explosive hero, followed by him almost attacking a reporter, yelling to them about ‘needing to mind yer goddamn business and keep my fuckin’ name outta your mouths’. Therefore, you opted long ago to stay away from the TV to avoid seeing him, his captivating rubies for eyes, covered by that goddamn mask you like to push up to his forehead, sweeping his bangs away and exposing his sweaty forehead that he bumps against yours as he makes love to you, still in his hero costume, all battered and dusty and so incredibly hot you have to- 

You grip your coffee mug tighter, almost to the point of breaking the handle off of it, placing it rather roughly onto the table before pushing your food away, appetite gone with the thought of whatever paradise you were thinking you were in before now long gone and never coming back, all because of you, of your action, of your mistake.

Kendo walks in with a bright smile on her face, as if her overly cheerful attitude will balance out the void you’re slowly but surely falling in. She shakes the bag of snacks in your face as you blink your eyes back into focus. Dragging your heavy feet across the floor to get to your kitchen to retrieve the shot glasses. Only kissing her cheek in thanks when you snatch away whatever it is she brought with her to lift your mood.

She eyes the boxes by your kitchen, the four placed haphazardly in your living room and the one you're using as a stool while filling your shot glasses, tongue sticking out to try and fill each one to the brim without spilling any on the new coffee table that she failed to notice before is still wrapped in bubble wrap that prevent any damage during the moving process.

“y/n…” you hum in response, a frown falling on your lips as the third glass spills a bit and the liquid pools on the plastic.

“Don't you think that you should’ve probably unpacked a while ago? Hasn't it been, what, five months?” 

“I didn't know you were gonna come here to harass me about my life choices, Kendo”

She flinches away, your tone venomous, almost feeling it as a slap to her face, before leaning in when she sees your eyes start to water.

“If I did, that just means it's true… that just means it happened, and I did the stupidest thing- you know what,” you wipe the few tears that managed to escape away with the sleeve of your sweater, looking down at the shots in front of you. “It, it doesn't matter anymore just- can I just drink and try to forget about how my life has gotten nothing but fucking worse since the day I left him?”

You questioned your worth that one time, that one time all those months ago. Thinking that by doing what you did and leaving, he’d drop everything and run behind you, chase after you and win you back, but he didn't, and as you sit surrounded by the evidence of how much of a failure you find out you are without him, you regret ever questioning it, ever questioning him. Because to you, living in denial was so much better than whatever hell this is.

So all you could think of is to just drown yourself in alcohol until your mind is too numb to think of the possibilities of how you could have avoided this, how you could’ve been a less of shitty person, and stop imagining how your life would be now if you just swallowed all your insecurities and just stayed. Despite the neglect, despite not being prioritized, because in some weird twisted way, those lies held you with warmth that you were never able to find after uncovering the ugly truth you’re living in right now. 

You lay on your living room floor, the alcohol swirling in your system and clouding your vision as you trace imaginary shapes in your ceiling, the voice of Kendo muffled as she rambles on and on about her day, the amount of outlaws she bitch slapped - a term she uses to get a laugh from you - and how she considers herself the unluckiest being in the whole world for having Monoma as a partner of all people, seriously contemplating who she should beat up first between him and the villains.

“Must be nice,” you voice, low and slow, scared of how Kendo would react to what you’re about to say, yet your intoxicated self unable to stop your mouth from uttering the words. “To have a purpose in life, to not be quirkless and lost like us.” your face twists in an ugly scowl at your ceiling, but mostly to yourself for putting a downer on whatever mood your friend is trying so hard to build, proven by the hitch of her breath before she enters your peripheral vision when she leans over you, all upside down and pouty.

“What’re you talki-” the shrill ringtone of her phone breaks you away from each other as she leaps to fetch it and silence the god forsaken thing by answering the call. “Battle Fist here, yes sir, I was partnered up with Phantom Thief for the patrol at area B, n-no sir I wasn’t informed.” Kendo breaths out in irritation, pinching the bridge of her nose as she starts tapping her feet aggressively on the floor, eyes falling onto yours when you look up at her all weary and sad, knowing what she would tell you once she hangs up. “That dumbass is gonna be the end of me I swear.” She crouches down to your level and kisses your forehead, promising to be back in the morning with hangover food, before she leaves and locks the door behind her. 

Now you’re left all alone, back aching from laying on the hardwood floor and eyes watering as you feel your loneliness eating you up inside, the god awful music thumbing loudly in your ears followed by the cheer of people as you-

Music?

You sit up abruptly, groaning at the dizziness of the swift movement as your hands fly to cover your ears, a failed attempt of ensuring your brain doesn’t begin to spill out from them, because of the loud voices, the bass shaking your entire fucking apartment by how strong it is, and you curse yourself for falling for the scheme the landlord pulled you in, paying half of the rent everyone did, just because you lived right below the penthouse that hosted the loudest parties in the area, 4 days out of the fucking week. 

The money hungry shameless bastard praised the apartment the minute it spiked your interest all those months ago, selling it so well you actually moved in the next week, anything to stop feeling like a burden to Kendo as you couch-surfed her apartment. Only to realize within that first week from your downstairs neighbors that he rents the penthouse to host parties of all sorts, and due to its location in the city, it was pretty popular, yet you didn’t have the money to move out again, nor the heart to concern your friend with your problems, as she was a hero with other responsibilities aside from taking care of your hopeless self.

So you get up, barely gathering yourself onto that elevator to tell off whoever the fuck will answer the door first to turn the music down. You pound the door with your fist repeatedly the minute you reach it, the door opening so suddenly you almost punch the man standing in front of you in the chest, the cool air created from the door cooling your warm cheeks as you squint at your victim for the day.

“Welcome!”

“Listen here, you buttfaced moron” you start to chew the person’s ear out, your sight blurring yet still able to notice how bright his hair is, how fiery and familiar it looks, and you’re certain you’ve seen it somewhere before. “I’m trying to drink away my regrettable life choices and cry over my ex-boyfriend, so if you would just turn down the-”

“y/n?” oh, that’s where. Your stomach drops as Kirishima looks down on you, the bright smile he flashed to whoever he was welcoming now dropped with his eyes almost bulging out at your presence, you both stand in silence, the boy unbuttoning the collar that suddenly feels like it has a chokehold on him while you cross your arms and hope the floor would swallow you a floor down back into the comfort of your home.

Kirishima basically is shutting down the second his eyes lay on you, breaking a sweat as your eyes never waver, despite how you fail to stay standing straight, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey we’re throwing a birthday party for your ex-boyfriend because he's been feeling depressed from the day you dumped his ass’ ? No!  He wouldn’t do that to his friend, but what was he gonna say now?

Well, he didn’t have to really think about what to say to you, because his other friend didn’t hesitate to push him forward, slurring something along the lines of ‘lettin the hot ladies in so they can take a look at the prettier blond, aka moi’. In his moment of panic, the redhead stumbles forward, his cup slipping from the tips of his fingers and meeting its doom by the floor, whatever was filling it now staining your pants as you both look at the mess between you.

“Woah bro, we said you gotta get’er wet but not- '' Denki's cackle stops him from continuing whatever filth he was gonna spew out - thankfully - before his eyes drop down to your chest, or more like what was covering it. “Hey! You a Dynamight fan? Hey Bakuhoe, comere for a sec.” 

Dear God, move, for the love of all that's pure in this god forsaken world, move! Run!

All you could do is shake and breathe in short segments as your widened eyes meet his unamused ones, the garnets in his eyes glistening at your sight, he stands straight and so tall, suited up in his usual attire. Dressed for the occasion, words aren't able to describe his beauty. You try not to let your brain be dazzled by how incredibly handsome he looks. He is wearing a dress shirt, in the deep color of wine that complements his eyes, dress pants hugging his long legs, not to mention the open collar, and no tie. He looks like a long, lean Lothario. 

At that your eyes drop down to the floor, specifically the now stained carpet, your hands wrenching the end of your hoodie to distract yourself from the piercing rubies that haunts your dreams.

You build up some courage, enough of it to lift your head to continue what you came here to do, so you open your mouth, and drop a few IQs while you’re at it. “The m-music is loud and m’tryin’ to sleep,'' you mumble, noting how Kirishima leans down to make up the words you are saying over the sound of the blaring music while Bakugou narrows his eyes at you as if disregarding his sight will make him hear you better. “So, if you could turn down the heat, that’d be,” 

“You squiffed?” The blond grunts, leaning his face close to yours to inspect it, and he catches a whiff of alcohol in your breath, his eyebrows furrowing at your response. “No I'm not squinting-” 

“Yeah you’re drunk alright,” he huffs at your less than intelligent reply, pushing his glass of whiskey - you figure since it's always been his drink of choice - against Kirishima’s chest, telling him to lower the fucking volume and grabs you by your bicep. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.” you stumble at the force used against you, no matter how weak it actually is, before you barely straighten yourself to push his hand away. “I can walk down all by myself, thank you.” Of course you’d expose where you live, you dumbass.

He doesn’t question your integrity, just continues to basically drag you to the elevator before pushing your apartment door open when you choose your floor, irked to find your misplaced trust in the people of the complex by not locking your door after leaving. He barges into your bedroom and tells you to change out of your fucked up pants and proceeds to saunter to your kitchen to get you water, eyeing the boxes that he comes across during that small trip.

He stands awkwardly by the door when he sees you standing in the middle of the bedroom, sifting through countless moving boxes with your pants on the floor, thrown next to a pile of clothes that he can only assume that its supposed to be your laundry ‘basket’, until you opt against wearing any since you can't seem to find anything to replace them. And when he asks you if you just moved in, his expression sours when you shake your head no and explain to him that you’ve been living for months in this space, after chugging that cup of water like you’ve been parched for days.

“Birthday party?” You ask out of the blue as you play with the strings of your hoodie, your ears perking up at the confirmation hum you receive. “Hmm, thas’cool… I-I guess.” 

Bakugou’s impassive as he gently pushes you onto your bed, eyes meeting yours as he covers you up with your blanket. “Get some rest, I’m leaving.” He said, slowly stalking away from you and barely reaching your door as your big mouth talks on its own. Your body sitting up and facing his retreating back.

“That's what you always do, you always leave”, you utter and you see him stiffen his shoulders before he spins to face you, so fast you almost want to check up on him about getting a whiplash.

“Hah?” it's one syllable, but it shakes your very core, that one sound making you almost shake, overwhelmed by the amount of emotions, the amount of pain that one sound has. He steps closer to your bed, the stomps of his feet sounding like gun shots in your ear, and you pathetically lift up the blanket to cover yourself up, cowering behind it like it's some pseudo shield that might protect you from him.

“I’m the one that leaves?” he growls at you, his eyes sizing you up when you react to his forceful approach, leaning back to look down on you, but his lips are still curled in a frown, he tries to hold himself from blowing up at you, his feelings oddly enough still raw in his chest the moment he lay eyes on you the first time since you left, threw him away and walked away, probably finding someone better, probably finding someone who you tolerated, unlike himself, but when he sees you straighten up your back to rebuttal him, an automatic response to whenever he raised his voice at you from all those years ago, he knows he is in for a fight. 

He snarls when you nod at him, your eyes hard and glaring up at him, not knowing that your silence is by your better judgement since you don't trust your voice, knowing it’ll fail you, probably crack and show him how much he actually is affecting you by his closed off posture and demeaning look down at your frame.

“Real fuckin’ rich of ya, y/n.” He snaps back, his hands brought up to his hair, tugging at it. “As if you didn’t pack your shit,” he kicks at yet another cardboard box fucking spewed in your room, noting its heavy weight when it didn't move but an inch by his action. “Dropped your keys by the fuckin’ door,” as an emphasis, he throws your apartment key at you, making sure it doesn’t actually hit you, but falls onto your lap. “And left. Without a single fuckin’ word, like I'm some lowlife who didn't deserve an explanation, like I didn't deserve anything! And-” that hurt, goddamn it. 

Exhaling deeply, he focuses on how your eyes look a little less glossed over, a little more sober, but holding fear, and he almost steps back and out when he looks at how you’re fighting tears, almost wanting to bust his own kneecaps than to see you like this, always wanting nothing for you but to be happy, to never upset about anything no matter how small it might be.

Then why did you leave him? Left him to drown by his lonesome self, waves of his insecurities and sorrow crashing into him, pulling him even further down to his inevitable doom.

Despite the fact that you both yearn for each other, long to feel one another, engulf yourselves in the others presence. You both stand your ground, eyes glaring despite the emotions hidden behind them, mouths shut and curled into ugly scowls regardless of the words you wish to speak to each other, whispers of promises into each other's ears about being together forever, in spite of not knowing what the future holds.

Bakugou breathes out again, recalling all those months worth of coping mechanisms to exercise when placed in anger inducing situations like this one, the time in therapy spent to better himself, to control himself, to be the best version of himself, for you, hoping that one day you’ll pity him enough to want to come back, knowing full well he would never hold a grudge against you and welcome you back with open arms, intending to never repeat whatever it is he did that made you think of him as so unbearable you couldn't spent another day with him.

You on the other hand, are barely holding in the tears, wanting him to just leave your sight, so you can go back to the world of denial where he didn't look like straight out of a magazine, looking as captivating as always, as if your absence did not have an effect on the hero, of course it wouldn't, why would a quirkless extra have an effect on the great Katsuki Bakugou, that's what he used to call them, right?

“Just leave, Bakugou-” his ears pick up the way your voice breaks at his name, the way you utter it sounds so horrendous, because you aren’t meant to call him Bakugou, you’re meant to call him Katsuki, Katsu, Suki, your Suki. Not- “I hate you.”

The room suddenly spirals. The floor panels misalign themselves into zigzags. Bakugo’s eyes shatter like a glass window. He tries to hold himself against the tears that threaten to fall, stomach wrenching as if reaching from inside of his body, but it’s useless. He brings his hand up close to his chest and sinks his head, letting the words overtake him.

Oblivious to his internal struggle, you pile whatever courage you have left in another attempt to ask him to leave, aware that your body wouldn’t aid you in pushing him away physically, you open your mouth, only to gasp after a moment of silence when he pounces on you and grabs you by the neck, sliding a hand behind your head and leaning your face impossibly closer to his “you fuckin’ hate me? show me you hate me then,”

Then he's pressing his lips against yours, your half foggy mind all too surprised by the flow of motion you can only try to keep up with his feverish kisses, you try to pull away, to push him away, to no avail, Bakugou only stopping his assault on your lips to growl at them again “Show me then, hah?” 

But he wouldn't even let you, his grasp on your neck loosening to circle around your back to push you to him even more. His kisses get more and more aggressive, trying his best to show you how much he was hurt by what you said, by what you did, after all this time, almost begging you to not let him have to voice out whatever he’s feeling because he would do so much of a worse job than he is doing now.

The hands you placed on his chest in a failed attempt to push him away are now just placed over his pecs, welcoming their warmth and the way they flex under your touch, your right hand clenching over where his thumping heart is, and he almost sighs in relief, the movement feeling like it holds together all the broken pieces of his heart to make it whole again.

Almost like that gesture calmed him down, Bakugou’s rough touches start to soften, very caring as they glide to your hips before sliding underneath your - oh my God it's your special edition Dynamight hoodie! His amused chuckle tickles your lips as he pulls away when he feels you stiffen at the realization, barely letting you breathe in ease until he places his lips against your ear. “Love how m’still the only one sprawled over yer tits.”

“But I still want the real thing, lemme see ‘em, hm?” And just before throwing a dumb retort and embarrasing yourself even further, the article is tugged eagerly off of your body and thrown haphazardly on the floor. Earning yourself a low whistle when he realises you’re wearing nothing underneath. Bakugou all but shoves you onto the bed, spreading your legs when you try to rub them against each other for any friction, wedging his body neatly between them as his teeth gently bite your soft buds, pulling them slightly before captivating the nipple entirely.

His tongue flicks against your hardening nipple while keeping a watchful eye at the sinful expressions your face makes, his one hand toying with and twisting the other nipple while the other slides down to tease your needy cunt, pressing his fingers against your -fucking soaked- panties, swearing under his breath at the feeling of your walls trying to clench around his fingers just from that one movement. Sitting on his haunches, he lifts your hips with ease to pull your panties right off, eyes travelling between your heaving chest and your exposed pussy. Before lowering himself and finding comfort in biting and sucking your nipples again.

Bakugou’s smirk grows with your moans as his tongue dances over your sensitive nipples, he presses his finger against your walls, and you immediately keen at the prodding feeling that almost feels foreign after all this time apart. His thumb pushing your pussy lip to the side to see you suck his finger in like the good girl he knew you always were.

“Ba-ba-ba,” you struggle to talk, your drool collecting at your lips, stopping you from forming any words as you feel a breeze hit your spit covered tits, whining at the feeling and wanting him to pull your nipples in the warm cavern of his mouth again. Bakugou’s eyes focus on the spit line connecting his bottom lip to your nipple before disconnecting it to smash his lips against yours in an effort to shut your blabbering up.

“Ba-ba, what? y’better not be callin’ me Bakugou with my fingers deep in yer pussy baby, its Katsuki for you, yeah?” he taunts with a fake pout that immediately turns into a grin at the way you hold your pathetic sobs, pressing another finger in your tight cunt, reveling in the wet sounds your pussy makes as he thrusts his fingers in and out of it, soaking his fingers in your slick as he curls them, eager to hear the squelching sounds it would make when his cock is shoved deep inside you. “Or better yet, lemme hear you say Suki, hmm?”

“Suki- p-please, eat me out” you throw your head back and bring your hands down to play with your clit, showing him where you want his lips to be, as if the blond doesn't already know where it is, and he scoffs at the thought, slapping your hand away and giving another slap to your clit, earning a moan from you from the sharp pleasurable pain.

“Yea, yea I fuckin’ know already, needy slut,” he growls, keeping eye contact as he circles your clit with his tongue before sloppily eating out your cunt, making a mess of both drool and your arousal, mumbling “my needy slut.” to himself, and you do hear it, yet you brush it off with the thought that your lust must be messing with your brain.

Your chest still flutters at his words and your walls clench in on his fingers as he curls them again in a way you didn’t know would make you yelp like it did. He thrives off of how your body responses so easily to him, your back arching and the squelching getting louder as his fingers pick up speed, his tongue so skillful in drawing circles around your clit before sucking it again. A whine escapes you when he draws his head away from you, only for you to see the way his eyes darkens, his chin glistening from your arousal when it catches the light.

“Let go for me princess,” he whispers uncharacteristically, making you question if the glint in his eyes is from his desire for you or something else. “Lemme see you fall apart for me, alright?” the way he’s almost begging you to come undone for him takes you by surprise, and your body curls in on itself so fast, not realizing your orgasm was creeping up on you until it hits you. The knot in your stomach breaks as you gush around his fingers, white crossing your vision as he slows his pace to help you come down from your high. 

Your shuddering body lays on your bed, eyes unwavering as they meet Katsuki’s, his fingers stuffed in his mouth as he moans around them at your taste. It's all a blur after seeing that unravel, and you’re so woozy that you don’t register him discarding his clothes until he lays above you. Placing himself between your legs as he pumps his cock, hardened from seeing you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, his tip leaking precum and burning a bright red.

His movement is almost too quick for you as he dips his head into your leaking hole before pulling right back, a breathless chuckle escaping him when you whine and roll your hips and try to suck him in again, wanting to feel the stretch of him inside of you.

“Didja wanna say somethin’ princess?” he taunts you, one of his hands holding you down by your stomach while the other is wrapped around his length, teasing you in the ways that he knows drive you crazy, he leans in, using the tip of his cock to spread your pussy lips open and running it along your slit to coat it with your arousal.

“Katshu, p-please I-” you hiccup, your fists tightening on your bed sheet as you try to rock your hips up get more than just his leaking tip, but your begging is always interrupted when he isn't hearing what he wants you to say.

“Say you love me.”

You freeze at his demand, your widening eyes looking up at him before you pout your lips, not thinking about surrendering to him, no matter how much you want your cunt stuffed full of him right now.

“I don’love yooou-” you gasp as katsuki’s grip onto your waist tightens and you feel as he gives a thrust into your sopping cunt, arching your back at the burning stretch of being filled up by his thick cock. Katsuki’s hand traces down your left thigh before cupping behind your knee, hiking your leg up and out, close to your chest to expose more of yourself to him, wanting nothing more than to see his dick seething in and out of your tight pretty pussy, and by almost muscle memory, you did the same thing with your right leg, replacing his hands with your own, presenting yourself to him.

“Y’see that? Fuckin’ know you like the back of m’hand, y’think someones gonna- ah, take the fucking time to work you like I did?” he's right, absolutely right, he ruined you for any other potential lovers and he loved it with every fiber in his being, knowing this means you’re always going to be wrapped around his finger. You moan as he pushes more of himself into you, bottoming out and holding one of your tits and squeezing when he feels your walls do the same to his cock.

You hate it, after all this time, you’re still a blubbering mess the second he was one fucking inch deep in your pussy, sucking him in and clawing at his back begging for more. No self respect, no dignity, you hate it, how come after all this time he gets to come here and fuck you like you belong to him, like you’ve belonged to him despite everything that has happened.

You only realize that your eyes are closed when Katsuki’s breath hits your face, and you open them wide, noting how wet your lashes have gotten from your tears, only for him to kiss at the tears gliding along your right temple and licking the ones on your left. He breathes out a chuckle and when he leans to look at your eyes, the humor and menace you expect to see in his eyes are nowhere to be found, clouded by a solemn look instead.

“What? Yer cryin on me now, huh? Y’think a few tears are stoppin’ me?” His voice is masked so well, because he sounds like he was simply enjoying a game, like an imp that had branched from a demon. “C’mon, not gonna tell the birthday boy you love’em?”

“I don't love you, I hate you, h-hate you-” you keen as drool pools at your lips, your body betraying you as it shakes from pleasure, letting go of your legs to wrap them around his slim waist, to bring him in closer, if that was even possible, stopping his deep thrusts that were brushing up against your cervix, it feels pathetic, denying him the pleasure of telling him you love him while clinging onto him like he's your last breath of fresh air, because in a way, you feel like he is, like him leaving would just collapse your lungs and stop your heart from beating, you know that he’s gonna leave you. While your spent body would lay on your bed and you'd cry because you didn't tell him you love him, yet you wouldn’t ask him to stay, knowing deep down that you don't deserve it, you don't deserve him.

You feel his weight on top of you as he rests his elbows by your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he repeats again with every shallow thrust into your warm insides, his cock twitching from time to time in your walls. “You love me.” he says it once, twice, thrice. Every time his voice lowers more and more to a broken whisper, almost a plea instead of the cocky taunt he started off with.

Your legs are starting to ache from the grip they have around him, so you loosen up, your mind easy since his thrusts haven’t been rough nor painful. And when you do, you notice two things immediately, first, your thighs are so soaked from how he's making you feel, probably ruining your bedsheet at this point, second, he pushed his chest away from yours to look you directly in the eyes, one hand molding around your thigh to keep it from wrapping around him again while the other is placed on your stomach, his thumb inching closer and closer to your clit, wanting to toy with it, toy with you, but not ready to give you any satisfaction until you admit to him, please just tell him, that you do still love him. All insecurities, all battle scars, all emotional constipation as layers he covers himself with, that no one gives a fuck to peel off, to see who he really was, except you.

His red eyes lock onto yours as your chest heaves with breathless sobs at the lost of his warmth, and when you think he's lowering himself back down, he pulls out suddenly, sending a  shiver down your spine as you gasp, now feeling like you're frozen over, your tears coming from lack of both pleasure and warmth.

Suddenly your face is met with the pillow and you feel his hands on your hips as he lifts them up and off the bed, your half intoxicated, half aroused mind barely registering that you’ve been flipped over on your stomach until you feel his cock prodding at your cunt, easily sliding in like they’ve been made to be warmed up in there, when you know Katsuki would argue that your pussy was made just for him and to warm his dick.

He presses his chest against your back, pushing you onto the bed as he thrusts his hips roughly, pulling out fully before seething himself right back in, your moans and whimpers muffled by your pillow from being pushed down by his hand as his other holds your hips firmly. 

Then what happened next probably shocked him more than you, despite how delirious you’ve become due to his relentless thrusting, his dripping tears feel cool on your bare warm shoulder, one by one as his groans and moans turn into strangled sobs, before Katsuki digs his teeth into that shoulder, to both hear you scream and to muffle his cries from you. 

“because I love you” he sobs, detaching his teeth from their grip and kissing the bite marks before resting his forehead against it, but his thrusts never cease, getting sloppier, as if the confession is pushing him off the edge. Dragging the tip of his nose from your bitten and bleeding shoulder to the back of your ear, his own face flush and warm against you as he breathes harshly against your ear and kisses along it.

“So-” he moans again, the hand behind your neck now turning your face so he could see your fucked out expression, the tears streaming down your face and the drool that pools under your cheeks, with your tongue lolled out and your eyes barely focusing on his form.

“You better say you do too, becau-”

“I love you.” you gush, like saying it is a breath of fresh air, your eyes never leaving his teary ones, your gaze so intense and fixated on him with no regards to the way the snapping of his hips against yours is shaking your entire body against the bed. 

With new found vigor from your confession, Katsuki grabs onto the meat of your ass, hammering into you from behind with force that pushes you against the bed even further, your pulled hair jerking your head back so he can listen to the lewd noises you are making, long forgotten the will to cover your pleasure and hiding your moans.

Your ass heavily slaps against his thighs as he grabs your hips with both hands and pounds into your sopping wet cunt, relishing in the way you’re begging for him. “Y’like it when I fuck you baby, hmm? Like it when I stuff you so fuckin’ full of me?” He growls, feeling you push your ass back every time you repeat ‘yes’ to his questions. “Yes, yes love it, love you, please please don’t stop, please ‘Suki. Yes, gonna cum ‘Suki please” you weep, your head pounding from the grip he had on your hair and your eyes crossing as you feel his thrusts stutter, getting sloppier when you bounce your ass against him, his hand coming down and slapping it.

“That's fuckin’ right, cum on this cock, c’mon baby” he brings four of his fingers to rub your clit with urgency, and you can’t help but arch your back as your orgasm hits you again, screeching as you feel your walls tightening on him, squeezing him for what he’s worth. “F-fuck ah, y-you’re so- Fuck” his heavy weight falls on you as he fills you to the brim with his milky seed, forehead pressed against your shoulder as he rocks his hips against you, pushing more of his load inside before slowly pulling out, gaze flutters down to where your bodies were once joined, seeing your mixed arousal seeping out of your hole and he has half a mind to push it back in with his fingers.

But he flips you over effortlessly, the sight of your crossed out eyes and wet cheeks squeezing his chest at the realization he might’ve been too rough on you, so he wipes your cheek with the palm of his hands and revels in the way you lean towards him, turning your face to kiss his palm. “Say it again.” barely a whisper, as you flip his hand and kiss the back of it as well, and he almost repeats himself, thinking you didn’t hear him, but your hands reach up and cup his face, bringing him towards you. “I love you Katsuki” and goddamn if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever spoken. “Again,” “I love you, Katsuki” “Again,” you giggle, and he knows that's probably what angels sound like.

Your thumb brushes over his warm cheeks, red from showing vulnerability, and you pull him even closer, “Happy birthday, ‘Suki.”

“Yea,” He breaths out, his lips barely brushing against your bitten and bruised ones. “It really fuckin’ is.”

aaaaaaaaah! Hope you enjoyed it! Lemme know what you think of the smut, I also changed my writing style from past tenses to present tenses or tried to at least

Borrowers (taglist):

if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡

[hotch-stufff]

Kiss The Girl

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings!: angst, pining(lots of it), crying, arguing, but a fluffy ending, like super fluffy ending :)

Word Count: 3.7k words

Description: Hotch tries to deny it, but he's madly in love with you. He keeps getting this urge to just kiss you. Could it really be that easy?

A/N: not really sure what this is, but I was listening to that new cover of kiss the girl by Brent Morgan and I really wanted wrote this. It definitely took a turn i was not expecting, but I hope you guys love it as much as I do. :)

*Based off the song "Kiss the Girl"*

--------------

He loved you. It was no secret.

Everyone knew, everyone except maybe him.

Or maybe he did know, but he refused to accept it. He couldn't love you. It was wrong. But if it was wrong, why on earth did it feel so good?

There, you see her, Sitting there, across the way

She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her

He wasn't the best at sharing his feelings. He was good at locking them away, and throwing away the key. But you, you made that hard.

There was just something about you. It drew him in, and he was hooked.

Maybe it was the way you giggled when you were nervous. Or maybe it was the blush that tinted your cheeks when someone gave you a compliment. Maybe it was the way you showed Hotch the happiness he needed in his darkest times.

He wasn't sure, but he knew you were special. He was sure he knew exactly when these feelings had started. It was the night of Rossi's Christmas party.

You sat on Rossi's couch, laughing along with Morgan and Prentiss. They had made some very very inappropriate joke, that you just thought was hilarious. 

"Okay, h-hang on. I need a refill." You gasped out between laughs. You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing the wine before pouring yourself a glass.

"Hey." You nearly squealed as Hotch came in the room behind you.

"Jesus Hotch, could have given me a heart attack." He simply chuckled. "Yeah, laugh it up." You playfully rolled your eyes.

"I'm sorry." He tried to hide his smile.

"Yeah, you sound it." You walked towards him, giving him a soft smile as the teasing atmosphere faded. The room was empty, and you wouldn't be able to ever work up the courage again.

"Merry Christmas Hotch." You whispered as you leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You pulled back, gave him a small smile, and walked back to the living room.

Aaron stood there, shocked. 

Why had you don't that? Why had he liked it? Would you do it again?

The questions repeated in his head, over and over. And he realised that a peck on the cheek wouldn't be enough. 

He needed a kiss, a real kiss. Even just one from you and he would be satisfied for life. But that, was an impossible dream. Or, so he thought.

And you don't know why, but you're dyin' to try

You wanna kiss the girl

Months had passed since then and he still hadn't gotten another kiss from you. 

You two had grown increasingly close however. You were practically inseparable. Always at one of your houses, talking, watching movies, eating. You name it.

Although watching movies was usually with Jack, and currently he was stuck on repeating the Little Mermaid.

"Miss Y/n?" He asked one night.

"Yes Jackers?" You asked, looking down at the small boy.

"Can we please, watch the little mermaid with daddy?" He begged. He used those puppy dog eyes and you were sold.

"Of course we can." You heard a chuckle come from behind you and you whipped around.

"Didn take you long to give in, huh?" Hotch questioned, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh shut it Hotchner. Go get the popcorn." He laughed and shook his head before walking to the kitchen.

Soon you found yourself wrapped up with the Hotcner boys. Jack was curled up on your lap, his face buried in your neck as he fell asleep.

As you and Hotch watched the movie, he snuck glances every couple of minutes. He couldn't get over how beautiful you looked. 

And you were holding his son, loving him like he could be your own. It filled Hotch's heart with love and affection.

And then that song began playing softly in the background

Yes, you want her

Look at her, you know you do

The lyrics spoke a truth that Hotch was desperately trying to avoid. 

But he didn't know how much longer he could go without telling you. In the moment he couldn't remember why he hadn't told you already.

Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her

It don't take a word, not a single word

Go on and kiss the girl

All he wanted to do was reach over and bring you into a kiss. Just a simple kiss. 

Just to feel your lips move together. Just for a second. He almost did. You had turned to look at him, and he leaned in slightly. His hand raising. 

But the shrill sound of his phone broke the trance. His hand receded before you could grab it. And he didn't kiss you.

You were filled with a disappointment that you couldn't explain. 

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, my, oh, my, look like the boy too shy, He ain't gonna kiss the girl

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ain't that sad? Ain't it a shame? Too bad, He gonna miss the girl

The music of the movie faded as a grim look replaced the carefree one on Hotch's face. 

"We'll be right in." He muttered out the words with disdain, sending you an apologetic look.

But you barely noticed, you were still trying to calm down the beating of your heart.

He was going to kiss you.

Did he feel the same way that you did?

All thoughts left your mind though as you felt Jack wake in your arms.

"Hey buddy." He looked up at you with the eyes he shared with his father.

"Do you have to leave?" Your heart broke a little bit at his questions.

"Yeah, bud. I'm sorry." He just smiled at you and burrows further into your chest.

"Its 'kay." He mumbled sleepily. "But we have to wait till Aunt Jess gets here so we can keep cuddling." Your heart swelled and your face lit up. Hotch was staring at the two of you, in awe. His son loved you so much. 

You looked over at him, a tear in your eye. He swallowed as he pushed his feelings aside, giving you a soft smile before getting up to get dressed.

He was screwed.

A couple cases later, and you were holed up in a precinct, everyone nearly falling asleep.

It was a bad case, a really bad case. And you were running out of time. The unsubs' latest victim only had about a day left.

But nobody could work if they were falling asleep. Eventually Hotch sighed and told everyone it was time to head to the hotel.

But of course, once there, there were only 4 rooms.

"I'm taking my own room. I'm old." Rossi said and grabbed the key before anyone could argue.

"C'mon pretty boy." Morgan grabbed another key, and walked off with spence.

"I'll go with Jj. Y/l/n, you good with Hotch?" Your face went bright red at Prentiss's words. But you nodded, looking anywhere but at Hotch. You couldn't say no, it would be too obvious.

"Y-yeah, that's fine." You all trudged to the elevator, Emily and Jj said goodnight and walked off once you reached your floor. You and Hotch walked in silence down the hall to the very last room.

He swung the door open, and you had to stop yourself from gasping. There was only one bed.

"I'll uh, I'll take the floor." You scrunched your nose at Hotch's offer and he couldn't deny how adorable you looked.

"Hotch, no. That will kill your back." You shook your head. "We can share. We're both adults, it's fine." You're not sure if you're convincing yourself or him. He just nods and gives a soft okay.

"Do you want the first shower?" He asked. 

"Um, no. I shower in the mornings." He nodded before walking into the bathroom.

Why was this so awkward? You guys were such good friends, this shouldn't be so weird. 

You pushed the thought aside before crawling into the bed and curling up.

Hotch walked out of the bathroom 10 minutes later in nothing but a towel.

Your eyes grew and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. He cleared his throat, and you looked up at his eyes.

"Uh sorry, forgot my bag." You nodded, looking away quickly. Too scared to speak. He quickly went back into the bathroom.

"Get a hold of yourself." You whispered to yourself. You weren't going to survive this case if he did that again. He joined you in bed soon after getting dressed.

Neither of you spoke, neither of you moved, neither of you breathed. It was completely silent.

After about 20 minutes of silence and trying desperately to fall asleep you spoke up.

"Hotch?" 

"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse.

"Um, I can't sleep." You turned towards him and he did the same.

"Neither can I." You sighed.

"How's Jack?" You asked, trying to bring up the mood, or to at least get rid of the awkwardness. It seemed to work because his face lit up at the mention of his son.

"He's good. He actually just asked if you could come over soon. He got an A plus on his spelling test that you helped him study for and he really wants to show you." You smiled as you listened.

"That's great! He was so nervous for that test." 

"Yeah, thank you Y/n for helping him." You grabbed his hand, squeezing gently.

"Of course Hotch. I love Jack." You muttered, and you fell into silence again.

But it was more content, more peaceful. Your hands stayed laced together, and Hotch's mind went blank as you started leaning closer.

Now's your moment

Floating in a blue lagoon

Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better

He started leaning in, his hand moved from your own to cup your face. But something switched in his mind. What was he doing? This was wrong. He couldn't let this happen. 

Your faces were inches apart when he pulled his hand away and scooted backwards slightly.

Look like the boy too shy

He ain't gonna kiss the girl

Your face fell, and his heart squeezed painfully.

"Um, we should go to bed." You were so confused. You thought that was it. It was perfect. He, he pulled away though. Why had he pulled away?

You could almost physically see his walls being built up.

Walls you had spent so much time breaking down.

"Oh, um. O-okay." You stuttered out, pulling back  quickly.

"Goodnight Y/n." He said softly, but you didn't respond. You were too scared you would cry if you did. 

You fell asleep faster than you anticipated, but maybe you were just that tired. 

He was gone when you woke up.

You thought everything might just go back to the way it was after that night.

But boy were you wrong. Hotch had completely pulled away from you.

No longer did he invite you over, or invite you to do paperwork in his office with him

You didn't watch movies, or go out to eat, or even talk about anything other than work. It was hell.

You tried, you really tried to get him to open up again, but it just didn't work. Nothing did.

It was to the point where he would be almost rude to you. 

The team was beginning to notice. And you couldn't hold back any longer. It was killing you.

You needed to talk to him, past this wall he had put up. You needed to know why he was pushing you away. You walked up to his door, knocking on the door.

"Come in." He said softly. You walked in, and his eyes stayed trained on the paperwork in front of him.

"Hotch?" He still didn't look up.

"How can I help you Agent Y/l/n?" He asked, his voice not wavering from professionalism. You shut the door behind you and walked forward, sitting in one of the chairs.

"We need to talk." He was taken aback slightly by the determination in your voice, but he sighed before setting down his pen.

"What is it?" He sounded almost annoyed, which just made you angrier.

"What the hell is going on?" You didn't mean to be so rude about it, but you needed to know.

"Excuse me?" 

"Seriously Hotch, we went from talking almost every day, to not speaking unless it has something to do with work."

"Y/l/n…" he went to stop you.

"No. Hotch please. I don't know what I did." You begged. "I mean you can't even use my name anymore." You whispered.

"This is very unprofessional." he wasn't breaking.

"Please Aaron. Don't lie to me." You tried his first name, and he had never loved his name being spoken more than when you said it. But he had to stop this.

"Agent Y/l/n. I'm sorry if our friendship was confus-" but you cut him off.

"We weren't just friends. You know that and I know that." He had the audacity to look confused. But he knew exactly what you were talking about.

Don't try to hide it how, You wanna kiss the girl

"Please Aaron, don't pretend, not with me."

"Agent Y/l/n! That's enough!" His voice was rising. 

He didn't understand why you couldn't just let it go.

"No it's not. I love you Aaron, I'm sorry. But I do. And it hurts so much that you are pushing me away!" Your eyes filled with tears and Hotch stood there, awed that you felt this way. But he couldn't let you in. So he took that final heartbreaking step.

"I don't love you." He whispered out. You had been standing and you took a staggering step backwards. 

"What?" Your voice was small.

"I don't love you Y/n." The lie was tearing him apart. Why was he doing this again?

Tears began falling down your face. You were upset and mad and heartbroken. And you were embarrassed that this man had this much of a hold on you.

"Fine." You sniffed. "If that's how you feel Agent Hotchner." He missed the way you said Aaron and flinched at the formal title. But this was what he wanted. "I apologize for the unprofessionalism." You turned to leave, but stopped when he spoke.

"Y/n…" His voice was small, strained. You wiped away your tears. When you looked back, his eyes were glossy.

But he didn't say anything else and you kept walking, slamming the door behind you. The bullpen silenced and everyone stared at you.

It was humiliating, but you walked to Rossi's office, your head held high.

"Rossi?" 

"Y/l/n, what's wrong?" He asked, like he hadn't heard the conversation through his shared wall with Hotch. 

"Can you please tell Hotch that I'm sick and I won't be in for a while?" Your voice wavered slightly, but you ignored it.

"Y/n-" he started, but you didn't feel like talking.

"Please Rossi?" You begged, praying he would just say yes so you could leave.

"Yes, of course." You nodded and thanked him before leaving. You slipped down to your desk and grabbed your bag. 

You didn't see Hotch standing in the doorway of his office, watching you as you left, tears silently slipping down your face.

Your teammates asked what was happening, but you just waved them off and left.

They all turned to Hotch, but he was already back in his office, his door slamming for the second time that day.

You wanna kiss the girl

A week passed, and you hadn't come back to work yet. Hotch wasn't sure what to do with himself. He hated what he did.

The team was confused, Rossi kept sending him angry glances, and your empty desk was haunting him.

And then, Jack asked that question. The question that broke him just a little more.

"Why doesn't Miss Y/n come over anymore daddy?" He had asked one night at dinner.

He didn't know how to answer. "Does she not love us anymore?" His eyes were big and glossy like he was going to cry. He decided not to lie to his son.

"Daddy made a mistake and Miss Y/n is just a little sad right now." Jack didn't understand what was happening, but he wanted to help fix it. His dad had been so sad these past couple of weeks and it made him sad. 

"Daddy, you have to say sorry! And you have to do what the song says!" Hotch looked at his son confused. What song?

"What song buddy?" He asked, pulling his son into his lap.

"You know, you have to kiss the girl!" He giggled like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"The little mermaid song?" He asked, smiling at his son's innocence. 

"Yes, remember, you and Y/n were sitting on the couch before you left for work, and you were going to kiss her!" Hotch looks shocked, Jack was awake for that?

"Um, buddy. Me and Y/n aren't together." He sighed as his son deflated.

"But why? You love her. And she loves you." He spoke, confused as to what was happening.

"Um.." Hotch drew a blank. He couldn't give this little boy an answer. Not when it was his fault. Not when he was the one that had said no. 

It was a mistake, a huge mistake. He should have just told you.  Why hadn't he?

He should have kissed you.

The first time, or the second time. He should have told you that he loved you too. Was it too late? 

"Um, buddy, you know what? It's time for bed." Hotch put his son to sleep and called Rossi, asking him to come over.

He prayed he wasn't too late. Rossi showed up at his door 20 minutes later.

"Hotch-" but he knew.

"I know, I'm an idiot. But I have to go tell her I love her too." He was rushing, grabbing his keys.

"Atta boy Aaron." Was all Rossi said as Hotch ran out the door, jumping in his car.

He was sure he was going faster than the speed limit, but he couldn't care less. He needed to see you, and to be with you. To tell you that he loved you.

His car was barely parked when he jumped out and ran up to your door, banging on it.

You heard the noise wondering who would come over so late. You were shocked to find Hotch there as you opened the door.

There, you see her, Sitting there, across the way

She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her

"Y/n." Was all he said. You slammed the door in his face.  He began banging his fist in the door and you threw it open, again.

"Leave Hotch." 

"Please, Y/n, just hear me out." He begged. You hesitated, but moved to the side letting him in. You shut the door softly.

Yes, you want her, Look at her, you know you do

Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her

"What do you want, Hotch? What more could you possibly want?" He shook his head, holding his tears at bay.

"Aaron." He spoke quietly.

"What?" 

"Please, it's Aaron." 

"Agent Hotchner. You need to leave." But he didn't leave. He stood there and stared at you. 

"I'm so sorry Y/n." 

"Hotch, seriously, I can't do this. I can't." You tried to keep those tears in, you were tired of crying over him, but there was no point. You felt then slip down your face.

Words weren't working, he had already said enough. But he remembered Jacks words. 

The song.

Now's your moment, Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better

She don't say a word and she won't say a word, Until you kiss the girl

He stepped forward and brought his hand up to your face. He leaned in slowly, and brought your lips to his. 

Your heart stopped, and you kissed him back desperately. You had wanted this for so long. You had waited for so. Damn. Long.

"Your so stupid." You murmured against his lips. He pulled away gasping for air.

"I know" his voice was beautiful.

You've gotta kiss the girl, Go on and kiss the girl

He leaned in again, kissing you like his life depended on it. He gently ran his thumb across your cheek as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you forward. He broke away a moment later.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I was an idiot. I love you." A tear escaped his eye, and you brushed it away. "I dont expect you to forgive me. I wouldn't forgive me if I was you. I was awful, and I never should have lied and said I didn't love you too. I shouldn't have pushed you away."

"Why did you?" He hesitated, he wasn't sure you would understand.

"The last time I let someone in my heart, she left. And then she got hurt because of me. I couldn't risk that happening to you." He shook his head.

"Oh Aaron. I'm not leaving. I don't ever want to leave you. I love you too much to leave." You paused. "And you can't hide and be scared to open your heart. Its okay to let people in." You added softly and he gave you a smile.

You both stood there in blissful peace, your foreheads touching. He chuckled and you looked at him confused.

"What?"

"I kissed the girl." You just grew more confused.

"What are you talking about?" You asked humor in your voice.

"The song. Jack said I had to do what the little mermaid song said." You understood then and began giggling. 

"Maybe, maybe you should do it again." You suggested, a smile on your face.

"Hmm, maybe I should." And he leaned in again for another breathtaking kiss.

.....................

"And that is how me and your dad got together." Your three kids sat in front of you listening in awe. 

"Wow, so Jack is why he finally told you he loved you?" Your middle child, Tommy asked. Jack laughed as he stood up, tapping your shoulder as he towered over you. 

"You could say that." Aaron said from the doorway, you turned, smiling at your husband. 

"Yeah, sure." You giggled and ruffled Jack's hair as you picked up your nine year old daughter, Jenna. Who, in all honesty, was almost too big to be picked up.

"Mommy, can you tell us that story every night?" She asked, and you smiled. 

"Of course I can sweat pea. But now, its bed time." You tucked in your kids, giving them each a kiss on the forehead before joining your husband in your room.

You plopped on the bed and curled up into his side.

"Hi sweetheart." He greeted you with a kiss, and he pulled you into his side. "You know, you didn't need to make me sound so…" he couldn't quite find the word.

"Stupid? Clueless? Dumb?" You asked, giggling as he began digging his fingers into your side, tickling you. 

"St-stop. Aaron!" You shrieked and he let up, but not before plopping on top of you. He began peppering kisses all over your face.

"I'm glad you finally told that story. Jenna has been begging for weeks" Your youngest had watched the little mermaid a couple of weeks ago and Jack had made a comment about one of the songs. Jenna had heard one word and was begging for us to tell her our "falling in love story", as she put it. 

You had finally given in and told them, and they had loved every moment of it. Jack of course had already known, having witnessed it. 

But Jenna and Tommy had loved hearing how their parents had fallen in love. 

And a week later when you walked in the living room you were filled with a sense of nostalgia as you saw Jack with Jenna in his lap, as Tommy and Aaron sat on the couch next to them. Watching, of course, the little mermaid. You plopped next to Aaron, smiling. 

As Kiss The Girl started playing.

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Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[watermelonlovershigh]

A Hairy Situation /blurb/

AN: i had this in my drafts for about 2 weeks but hadn't proof read it until now because i wasn't sure if this concept was any good. i thought it may be weird but it was inspired by a tiktok i seen. also i just spent 30 minutes proof reading this and my computer decided to restart so i had to proof read this twice. at least is small so it didn't take too long to restart.

This story contains: talks of pubic hair, light embarrassment, reassurance

{ dad!harry - husband!harry - daughter age 2 }

word count: 608

While you're taking a relaxing bath, your daughter runs into the bathroom and decides to point out the fact you have pubic hair.

You're relaxing in the bathtub after a long day of running around with your two year old daughter. She really keeps you on your toes and makes you exhausted by the end of the day, each day. But your husband Harry is a true saint. He helps out with so much and you couldn't ask for a better partner. Like right now.

Harry is currently chasing your daughter around, trying to help her into some pajamas for bed, but she keeps running away from him. Her bare butt is flashing him as her curls bounce up and down. He wants to get aggravated with her but she's just too damn cute. Her little giggles fill the halls and before Harry knows it, your daughter runs right into your master bedroom and into your bathroom where you're our in the bath.

Before Harry has time to catch her, your daughter enters the bathroom and sees you laying back in the tub with your feet propped on the edges. You turn your head when you hear a laughing toddler and say, "What are you doing missy? Thought your daddy was putting your pjs on you?" She's seen you naked before so you don't even try and cover up. You are her mum after all.

Harry comes rounding the corner and enters the bathroom out of breath. Then he sees your daughter standing by the tub talking to you. Which he smiles at, watching the mother-daughter interaction. You look up behind your child's curls to see your husband standing there and watching. Hating that they bothered what was supposed to be a relaxing bath for you, Harry apologizes, "Sorry, love. She ran away from me before I could snatch her up."

"Its alright babe." you giggle.

Then out of nowhere, your daughter blurts out while pointing in the tub, "Mummy, yah got hair on your bum." Your face freezes with embarrassment. Did your child really point out the fact you have pubic hair and call your vagina your bum?

Harry has to hold back a laugh, not wanting to make you upset. Then he steps forward and scoops up the naked baby saying, "Okay, time to go little one." He looks down at you and mouths a 'sorry'.

----------------------

Minutes later, Harry finally got your toddler dressed in her pjs and put to bed. You've gotten out the tub, doing your nightly routine. Harry comes back into the bathroom and wraps his arms around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder, and looking ahead in the mirror.

"I can't believe she pointed at the fact I have pubes and called it my bum hair. How embarrassing." you mutter as you rub moisturizer on your face.

"She's only two love so don't feel too bad about it. She'll probably forget by tomorrow." Harry speaks softly in your right ear.

"Are you sure you don't want me to shave? I mean I could if you get tuned off by the hair or something." you question your husband, now feeling a bit insecure that you even have pubes.

"Baby, baby, baby, I don't care if you have pubes or not. I have pubes. Everyone has them. You don't need to shave for me, ever. Only if you want to, okay?"

"Okay, you're right. But I still can't believe she had to point to them and say I had butt hair." you laugh. Your laugh causes Harry to laugh behind you and you can feel his chest vibrate on your back. You love when you can laugh and make light out of embarrassing moments together. That's why Harry is your bestfriend, lover, and partner for life.

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Masterlist (regular smut, fluff & sicfics)

My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

Harry Styles Series - One Shots & Blurbs Masterlist

Harry Styles blurbs, concepts, & short stories Masterlist- (short writing with little to no dialog)

[wheelsup]

Ok here's a concept dad spencer always bringing the baby to sleep with them even if she's not crying. And the reader disapproving because she knows that's the start of a bad habit.

this is 🥺the sweetest thing in the world. big man + tiny baby.

wc: just under 1k cw: spencer reid x fem!reader

-

“You’re encouraging a bad habit, you know,” you sighed as Spencer peeled back the comforter from his side of the bed. For the severalth time that week, with your baby tucked securely in one of his arms, her space-themed sleep onesie matching his pajama bottoms. 

“No I’m not,” he pouted, climbing under the covers after carefully putting her down. “Besides, this little pumpkin isn’t capable of having bad habits.” He ruffled the wispy hairs on her head, earning a high giggle as she squirmed under the sheets between the two of you.

“I’m not talking about her,” you laughed, “I’m talking about you.” Spencer took offense to that.

“I do not have a bad habit,” he gasped, covering her tiny ears with his hands. He couldn’t let her hear those words and believe he was doing something wrong by having her by his side. “She wanted to sleep here. She was crying.” 

“Oh, really? She wanted to?” you raised your brows, leaning your face into his to challenge him. You bet that he couldn’t tell you that again while looking you in the eyes. “Or did you sneak into her room, steal her from her crib and bring her here because you wanted to?”

Spencer, a man of six feet of height, got impossibly small under your all-knowing stare. He sank deeper into the bed, drawing the plush white duvet up to his chin and hiding until all you could see were his eyes. Large, pouty, and full of guilt. 

“I knew it.”

“Come on! She’s only gonna stay this small for so long,” he reasoned. To make his (adorable) case, he grasped one of her legs and gave it a little wiggle, showing you how tiny she still was. And then both of them were giving you an undeniable set of puppy eyes, begging to let her stay. 

“Spencer Walter Reid, you cannot keep pulling her out of her own bed,” you sighed. Your actions said something else as you put one hand over her warm belly and hugged her closer. “One of you is going to take it really hard when she gets old and we can’t do this anymore.”

And though you meant Spencer, truthfully it could be either of them. While Spencer was thoroughly (and overly) attached, so was she. 

She’d notice if he wasn’t home for a day, and cry all the time until she saw his face. If he couldn’t make it happen by picking up a video call, then you’d have to hold up photos of him to trick her into thinking he was there.When he was home, she’d follow him everywhere. Crawling right alongside him while he was folding laundry, curiously peering into the basket, or sitting on the kitchen counter and being his sous-chef (sneaking cheerios from the box) while he cooked (prepared bowls of cereal). 

But Spencer got her accustomed to one habit already, and it was the root of the attachment issue. 

She discovered that, on the nights he was home, he would always be the one to come comfort her when she cried in the middle of the night. (For two reasons: one, he didn’t even have the willpower to try the ‘cry it out’ method, and two, to make up for all the three-a.m’s you’d have to do this while he was gone). 

You were convinced she started timing herself to only cry when he was home. Maybe even fibbed it, a little (a trait she surely learned from him) because as soon as he came to see if she needed anything – a bottle, a diaper change – she’d stop. She’d gotten her end goal the moment he walked into her room, which was just to have him there. 

He’d stay with her as long as she wanted, which would be all night long. After a few nights of accidentally falling asleep in her rocking chair and waking up with back pain, he found it was easier just to bring her into your bed. And she loved it. 

Spencer warmed even more as he watched you play with her, tapping softly on her belly with your fingertips. “See how much you love this?” he smiled, feeling like his case was made on why she should always sleep next to you.  

“You’re gonna make me the bad guy, eventually,” you mumbled, sticking your bottom lip out as you focused on her getting drowsier.

As much as you did love having her with you, you had to be the voice of reason. He was setting a precedent of caving in and you knew it would eventually become a problem right around the time she turned into a toddler. You could picture the tantrums now, and picture him giving in to every little whim of hers, with you ending up as the one who has to say no all the time.  

“Nuh-uh.” He scooped her up and placed her on your chest so you could cradle her. “When she gets older, I’ll stop,” he promised, pressing a kiss onto your temple. 

You chuckled lowly, rolling onto your side with the baby on her back next to you. “No, you won’t.” There’s no way he’d ever be able to resist giving her anything she wanted.  It was cute that he believed he’d even be capable of that.

“Okay, I won’t,” he laughed and shuffled closer, pushing himself flush against your side. He held you the same way you held her, stretching his arm so it spanned over your waist and stopped just over her belly, both of you tucked safely under him. Big spoon, little spoon, littlest spoon. “Is that so bad?” 

Closing your eyes, you hummed playfully as you pretended to think it over. For the severalth time that week, you melted into the bed, wrapped up in the warmth of your little family as you nodded off to sleep. “No,” you sighed, a smile ghosting it’s way across your face, “I guess it’s not.”

-

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[thunderpetal]

Dropping all my hunter headcanons because why not

-He definitely experiments a lot with his style. He especially loves human clothing, Luz takes him shopping frequently, he likes wearing skirts too, just really likes the different feel and freedom of them

-He also gets introduced to human tunes and keeps cranking up the volume, he has to be reminded to turn down the volume when listening with earbuds lest he give himself tinnitus aged 17 god bless

-as for who he listens to: everyone. Well i think he actually gets into hard rock/metal, Luz keeps making ‘male maniupulator music’ jokes that he does not understand At All. But then on another day he’ll be singing his heart out to some Twice like this boy contains multitudes

-is camila’s adopted son. Well in legal terms i think he actually gets taken in by both eda and darius. Like he goes to darius at weekends but instead of his parents being divorced its more like they’re the previous generation of theatre gays who still have high school beef but they also saved the world together so its a funny dynamic. Anyway thats just my hc as a dadrius liker but also hunter clawthrone truther. BUT THIS IS AB CAMILA back to camila.

-As i said camila does not Officially take him in, but he does visit her crazy often because he just likes being around her. Being in the human realm post kings tide was a tumultous time for him but the noceda home was where the process of his healing got to finally properly begin so he loves it. And camila was a huge part of that ofc. She thinks he is a lovely young man. Obviously she is also worried about him but she doesn’t have many probing conversations with hunter, like she knows his Deal and past abuse but they spend most their time together baking cookies and shit. He is definitely comfortable breaking down around her though

-Speaking of, cooking/baking is his main hobby he develops post kings tide, it started in the human realm ofc he is camila’s sous chef. But back in the BI he continued and he just. loves it. He reads cookbooks cover to cover like they’re novels and won’t even mark down any recipes he likes because he’s just too engrossed. And then with actual making, he prefers baking bc its very follow-instructions-and-get-correct-result and he has been doing that his whole life, cooking is Scarier bc its more flow and experimentation and artistic but he’s getting to grips with it. He proudly boasts about he’s the only person who can make both human and BI cuisine (Luz not applicable, she can only make instant ramen)

-The emerald entrails are his closest friends and he just loves LOVES hanging out with them all as a team, he loves their group hangouts and how chaotic they get, and ofc they all still play together! He’s also gotten pretty good at flyer derby and he is Not smug about it (he is so smug. But also he deserves it)

-You know how other witches have their palisman tucked away 90% of the time? Yeah not this white boy. Flapjack is just Constantly vibing on his shoulder, save for when he’s out and about in the human realm, bc he could get away with it but it just looks a Bit too unusual to have a bird perfectly content on his shoulder. But mostly Hunter relishes not having to hide Flapjack anymore. It’s huge for him. Sometimes he still feels scared, like Belos is going to come back and rip Flapjack away, but in those moments Flapjack will peck at his ear and remind him that they’re both safe

-(post hair noodle, hunter’s ear is the main Flapjack target)

-him and Amity got over their animosity pretty quickly but that does not deal with the other, greater obstacle: their mutual awkwardness. GOD BLESS THESE TWO IDIOTS THEY WERE TRYINF but they used to be so BAD at conversations. Literally just like ‘hey’ ‘hello’ ‘…’ ‘…’ ‘…nice weather isnt it’ AND SO ON. Luz was greatly entertained and she did nothing to help them. But they figured things out themselves. And once they get past their awkwardness… oh boy, say hello to trauma bonding! Obviously its not the only thing they talk about it but Hunter is comforted by knowing there is someone who really Gets it and vice versa. Sometimes he feels a bit bad going to Amity to vent because he’s like ‘what if she’s having a good day? What if she’s not thinking about the bad things that happened to her and then here I come dredging up everything-‘ but amity tells him it’s Ok. They get through most of their bad days together. And on their good days they almost murder each other over mariokart

-he is okay in the end and lives a good life full of healing and happiness AMEN

[finelinevogue]

Can you write something about when Harry and Y/N broke up but fans speculate that they got back together and they did get back together. They broke over something stupid, please. You don’t have to do this exactly it can be something like that.

let’s see how this turns out! hope it’s what you wished for?!

The last few months had been rough.

What had started as rumours of a breakup between everyones favourite couple, you and Harry, had turned into an actual breakup.

It had started by Harry spending more time with Olivia, due to press for Don’t Worry Darling. They were always hanging out with each other, even when there was no publicity stunt telling them to. You found it appropriate at first, wanting the movie to gain some form of reputation, but after a while you believed it turned South. It was becoming a definite friendship and not just because they had to. It was the way that Harry would bring Olivia over for dinner without checking with you first, or taking the dog for a walk with her not you, or even staying longer out on stunts than they needed to just because they wanted to.

So you challenged Harry on it. Hell, even the tabloids were challenging you both - claiming Harry had split from you for Olivia. You made him question whether he thought his actions were irresponsible and appropriate or not, to which he thought there was nothing wrong and thought you were being irrational. You didn’t speak to him for the rest of the day, only to find him later on the phone speaking to Olivia about how crazy you’d been acting about it all. So you showed him crazy and walked out.

Until today.

For over a half a year your sister had her wedding planned and Harry was supposed to be your guest. You were nervous about turning up without him, because your family were very judgy. Your sister couldnt help being the smarter and the prettier one, but she also didn’t have to parade it around so everyone knew of it. Your mum and dad thought you a disappointment for the longest time, but once you’d gotten a job and had moved out they were a bit more loving over you. Still didn’t hide the fact they desperately hoped for you to have a relationship. It wasn’t that you were bringing Harry along to prove that someone loved you, but more to prove that they would never fully be satisfied whether you had a boyfriend or not. There would always be a podium stand slightly lower for you to stand on.

However, they didn’t know about the breakup.

“Y/N, nice to see you. Where’s Harry?” Another guest asked you, relatives of your mum. It was the same question over and over again, no one really caring about how you are but instead whether you’re in a positive relationship.

“Oh um I think he’s just running a bit late.” Was your chosen answer to respond to said question. It was repetitive, but it kept people off your back.

The wedding was completely beautiful. It was in a beautiful church and was decorated to perfection. The theme was white and royal blue, something your sister had always dreamed of. Children played amongst the pews and family relatives mumbled to each other about gossip. There was still a heavy sadness to the event. Maybe it was because your sister hadn’t asked you to be a bridesmaid - instead, choosing her best friends instead - or maybe it was because you missed Harry so much.

He’d fucked up. He really had, but it didn’t take away that burning passion for him that spread like a wildfire in your belly. You missed him. You still loved him. Worst of all, you had to pretend everything was all alright in front of your family when actually you were breaking apart inside.

Harry hadn’t messaged saying that he was or wasn’t coming, but after everything that had happened you were confident he was going to be a no show, and you would be the embarrassment of the family once again. Your relationship had been very private and exclusive, but Harry’s fans were so investigative you wouldn’t be surprised if they knew that you’d broken up and were aware that you were at a wedding today without him. Neither of you had made a public statement about your breakup, but neither of your wanted to damage each other even more. Fans suspected though and rumours travel fast.

“Y/N how are you doing? How’s Harry?” Another aunt came and asked you, this time with your mother in tow.

“Oh he’s great, yes.” You smiled forcefully, not actually having a clue how your ex-boyfriend was doing. You didn’t keep up with his social media because you were afraid of what you might find.

“Where is he? Is he here?” Your aunt asked.

“He’s late, apparently.” Your mother answered for you, sneeringly. “You’ll be made a fool of if he’s a no show Y/N.”

“I know.”

“I hope everything goes well for you both.” Your aunt kindly said, before waiting for your mum to say something nice too. That was a mistake though.

“Well it’s unlikely she’ll find someone again!” Your mother laughed and pulled your aunt away from you. You furrowed your eyebrows and let your heart sink low.

What were you thinking, letting Harry go like that? Your mum was right, you were never going to find anyone else again. You were so lucky with Harry. He was so kind and so patient with you, but obviously he’d run out of steam towards the end. It doesn’t surprise you. You’ve always been told you’re a mighty handful and you need a lot of work put into looking after you, so you understand why you were probably too much for Harry. The showbiz life had never really been something you’d completely submerged yourself into, whereas you guess for Olivia it was rooted in her from birth. She understood Harry’s world the same way he did hers. They would match perfectly for each other, if that’s what they wanted.

You watched the room continue as usual, but you couldn’t keep yourself here. There was too much sadness welling deep within you that you wanted to just run and then keep running. So you did, only to get as far as the bench in the front courtyard. The outside felt calmer and more freeing than inside, you sat and absorbed it for a while, not realising that you were crying until your pretty multicoloured dress had grown darker with a pool of your tears.

“Shit.” You tried rubbing the tears out, but only made you cry a little harder. You thought about your makeup running and tried to compose yourself, fanning your face to calm it down from the heat now.

“And here I was thinking weddings were supposed to be happy.”

You stopped fanning your face to look at him. You couldn’t believe he was standing there, dressed in a beautiful white suit and salmon pink shirt underneath to compliment the colours of your dress - the outfit that you’d helped him pick out over a year ago. He’d remembered. He trusted that you’d still be wearing this dress. He was a sight alright. A vision of beauty and love.

“Harry?” You questioned, wiping your under eyes to clear away any running mascara, not quite believing he was standing there.

“So what was it? Bad music playing? No vodka? Or maybe there’s nowhere for you to escape to go read the book I know you have stuffed away in your clutch bag.” He stood at a distance from you, hands in his trouser pockets, to make sure you were comfortable.

“I brought vodka instead of the book.” You chuckled, reaching into your clutch to prove it to him.

“Lucky for you, i’ve come to save the day.” Harry reached to the inside of his blazer pocket and pulled out a Kindle. You’d always been debating whether or not to buy one, because the feeling of having a book to turn its’ physical pages is a feeling second to none. “Take it, it’s yours.”

Harry handed it out to you and you stood up to reach for it hesitantly. Harry assured you that it was okay and that you’d been reading too many books if you thought it was a trap of some sort.

“Thank you, Harry.” You spoke sincerely. You stroked your thumb over the cover and turned the case lid over to start up the screen. The screen lit up and it was set to a picture of your favourite quote, annotated just as you would have in your own book. You chuckled and let a few tears drop from the kindness of all of this.

“And then…” Harry unlocked the Kindle with your birthday as the password, before clicking on the library so you could discover what was waiting for you on your virtual shelves. Harry had downloaded all your most favourite books, whilst also downloading the ones he knew had been on your to-be-read list. He’d even added a few of his favourite books too, just because you liked reading his recommendations.

You smiled, but felt so lost.

“W-why are you here, H?” You asked, closing the lid and bravely looking up into his enchanting eyes. You had to control yourself not to comment on how wondrous they looked.

“To save the day.” He chuckled in repeat, until he knew you weren’t taking that for an answer. “Because I fucked up. Big league time.”

“Yeah.” You whispered, looking down at your shoes to see that they weren’t that far apart at all. He was so close to you, yet he wasn’t yours to catch.

“And i’ll never forgive myself for letting you walk out of that door. The promotion shit with Olivia? Done. I’ve finished. I explained that the movie isn’t as important to me as you. You,” Harry paused to breathe out, and took the risk of guiding your jaw up to meet your gaze with his soft hand, “you are real Y/N. You’re so important and key to my life and it bloody terrified me, still does actually, to think that you make me feel this way. I want everything with you. Marriage, kids, a home. A life. I was so worried I would screw it all up, though, to the point where I did screw it all up. I lost you and so I lost me. It’s selfish of me to ask whether any part of your heart still wants me, but—”

“Yes.” You quickly interjected before he could say something he’d later regret. “There is, yes.”

“R-really?” He stumbled over his response, not expecting you to react so soon but his words had got to you. His feelings were vulnerable and raw and it reminded you of how much you love him and feel safe with him.

“Why? Would you like me to say different.” You teased.

“No,” Harry rushed, stepping closer towards you, “God now. Stay, please. Forever, if you’ll have me?”

“I can deal with forever.” You leaned up to where his lips were, craving the taste of them against yours so badly. “Can I?” You looked between his lips and his eyes, watching his eyes coo in admiration of you. His arms snaked around your neck and cupped the back of your head, resting his ringed fingers against your skin delicately.

“You don’t have to ask, angel.” And with that you didn’t hesitate to reclaim your clips on his. He tasted as sweet and as soft as you could remember. The hint of mint sweets he kept in his car could be tasted all over his mouth, and he could no doubt taste the vodka on yours. He took no time in rushing to have his tongue exploring your mouth once mouth, biting on your lip when he got the chance to. He wanted you to remember this moment and how much love he has for you, and always will. Just as you do for him.

Hesitantly pulling away you smiled at him cheekily, feeling so much lighter and happier to have him here. With you in his arms so expertly.

“What?” He asked, leaving a quick kiss to your nose, inhaling his scent as he did.

“Just can’t believe you’re here.” You stroked his cheek with your thumb, and he leaned into your touch so comfortably. He had missed you so damn much, and it showed.

“Let you down once before and I wasn’t going to do it again.”

“So you’d have shown up even if I hadn’t?”

“Not happily, but yes.” He laughed thinking about it.

“Why?” You laughed with him.

“I’ve got to make my impression on your family somehow. Need to remind some of them how amazing and beautiful their special Y/N L/N is.”

“Some are going to need a lot more persuading than others.” You sighed, side-frowning over your words.

“No offence, but anyone who doesn’t treat you as a fucking diamond doesn’t deserve you and should watch out for kick up their backside from me.” You laughed over his empty threat and buried your head against his chest, listening to the heartbeat and rumble of laughter that came from within. This moment alone felt like home. Safe and warm.

“I love you, H.”

“Bloody love you too.”

Harry ended up returning to the wedding with you, much to your mothers surprise, and you both enjoyed the celebrations together. You shut yourselves out from everybody and just danced, talked and drank the night away.

You were so in love.

Later, photos got leaked of the wedding and it showed you and Harry dancing away in one of the backgrounds of the photos. It was supposed to be a shot of just the bride and groom, but you two have managed to get caught in it. You looked so caught up in each other that you still weren’t even aware the photo had been taken. You and Harry had determinedly avoided the camera all night, exactly for this reason, but a part of you was kind of happy that this one photo got leaked, because it showed the world that Harry was yours and you were his. It showed that you were together, or back-together as addressed by some FBI fans, and that you were stronger for it.

[hmslusitania]

Been in the Dark Since the Day We Met

Happy Halloweek day 4 -- Creatures!

It starts as a stupid conversation at the station.

Chim, overly credulous, kicks them off with a quick, “Hey remember when we were jinxed because Probie said the q-word? Do you guys think there’s such a thing as actual magic?”

In his defence, Eddie guesses, it really is a …q-word… shift and they don’t have anything better to do, everyone sprawled around on various pieces of furniture in the loft. Eddie had been playing a round of pool with Buck, but if they’re going to get into this conversation, he’s got to nip it in the bud.

“Nope,” he says, and taps out an incantation on his cue in Morse code to make sure it hits the ball correctly.

It’s not something he’d usually do. He’d never cheat at pool normally, with magic or otherwise, but, well, Buck had been getting extra smug about his supposed pool prowess recently and Eddie needs to beat him now, just to mess with him.

“Then how do you explain that shift?” Hen asks.

“Expectation is its own kind of magic,” Eddie says. “Y’all got squirrelly about it and because you were expecting everything to go wrong, it did.”

He doesn’t usually think about magic.

It seems stupid when he phrases it like that, even to himself, since, well. Eddie is magic. But that’s the thing.

Eddie Diaz is a bad witch.

Not a bad witch, not a wicked “I’ll get you my pretty” cursing people left and right witch. He’s just…bad at being a witch. His sisters don’t understand it, since magic has always come just oh so easily to them. He’s the oldest and they’d still been running laps around him magically since they were all kids.

He expects to get better as he grows up – “Some people are late bloomers,” his abuela had comforted when he’d started spending his summers in LA with her rather than in Texas watching Sophia and Adriana and their mother work magic for everyone else, his own role if he stayed in El Paso reduced to restocking herbs and fetching ingredients.

But he doesn’t.

Instead he stays bad at magic and just…covers. He dates Shannon, (he doesn’t tell her about magic), he joins the Army, (he doesn’t talk about magic with the other witch in his unit), he has Christopher, (he doesn’t tell Shannon about magic but now he feels bad about it since Christopher is clearly also a witch), his marriage dissolves, (his magic gets even worse, some-fucking-how), and he listens to his parents list all his failings – bad husband (although that one they’re more than happy to drop on Shannon, so his real crime is having shitty taste in women), bad father, bad witch – and he…leaves.

He’s gotten a little bit better since he’s moved to LA, although he can’t imagine why. But he’s still bad at magic, and besides. It’s not like he can tell anyone at the 118 about it. He can’t be like, “yeah, I’m actually dead positive that Ravi didn’t jinx us because I would’ve been able to tell if we were jinxed since I’m a witch.” They don’t tell mundane people about witchcraft, as a rule. It tends to end in fire, and as a firefighter, Eddie’s got enough of that in his life thanks.

“Oh come on,” Chim complains. “You’ve never, never once, ever had a moment where you saw something you couldn’t explain and been like ‘hey I bet that’s magic!’”

“Nope,” Eddie says.

He finishes tapping out his Morse code incantation – the one and only magic-related skill he’d picked up in the army – and sinks three balls with one shot while Buck gapes at him.

And he’s telling Chimney the truth. He’s never had that experience.

He’s never had to wonder.

“Well, I just saw something,” Buck says. “How the hell did you do that?”

“I’m better at pool than you are,” Eddie says and takes a sip of his coffee, and then leaves Buck sitting there staring down at the red felt.

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