#i love this moment and how excited she gets c:

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 15: Roadies

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 6k

Chapter 15/20

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Tour Life

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

OPENING NIGHT - MADISON SQUARE GARDEN - NEW YORK CITY

The anticipation in the arena was high. Seats were filled and packed to the brim. The smell of smoke and alcohol already filled the air; everyone dressed to the nines. The excitement buzzed, bringing strangers together as they murmured and cheered, some munching on popcorn, others dancing to the waiting music—tracks from Velvet Rebellion’s first album, Velvet Love. It’d been twenty minutes since the opener, Daisy Crowe, rocked the mic. Now was the time.

The lights dimmed.

Smoke and pyrotechnics hissed from the stage as the crowd roared. A spotlight hit center stage—Bucky, standing alone with his guitar slung low. He strummed the first notes, a sharp, electric riff that sliced through the noise, setting the arena on fire. One by one, the lights snapped on, revealing Wanda on bass, Steve on the keys, and Tony behind the drums, the beat building like a pulse. The crowd was losing it.

Backstage, the final preparations were a flurry of motion. A makeup artist gave last-minute touches to Natasha's face, technicians adjusted lighting and camera angles, and people raced from room to room, ensuring everything was in place.

You stood beside Natasha, trying to remain calm as you gazed around the space. You could hear the crowd roar. It felt unreal. Her fingers brushed over her jacket one last time as she met your gaze. A soft smile played on her lips, but the tension in her eyes was impossible to miss.

"How do I look?" she asked.

You cocked your head, then reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Almost perfect," you answered, brushing your lips against hers. She kissed you back, and for a split second, everything outside of the two of you seemed to fade away. You pulled back, smiling. "There," you said, "Now, you're perfect."

She chuckled and rolled her eyes, then grabbed your hands, her fingers interlacing with yours.

"Don't be lovey at work," Mitch grumbled as she approached with Isabella trailing behind her. Your daughter gave you a knowing smile, sidling up to your side.

"I'll do what I want, Lester," Natasha said.

You grinned, and she leaned over, kissing you on the cheek. "Thanks for helping me get ready," she whispered.

"Anytime," you replied, squeezing her hands. "Though maybe you should ask one of the professionals next time."

"Here, Natasha, for good luck," Isabella said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a black hair tie. You recognized it immediately. It was one of her favorites.

Natasha’s face softened as she accepted it, tying it onto her wrist with a smile. "Thank you."

The crowd’s energy grew louder, the roar swelling as the moment approached.

Then, the lights above you flickered and dimmed, and the arena was plunged into darkness. The anticipation in the air was palpable. The sound of Bucky’s guitar rang out, followed by a fierce rush of music, and suddenly, the entire stage exploded into light.

"It's my turn now," Natasha breathed. "See you out there!" She quickly kissed your lips, then rushed off with Mitch to join the others on stage.

You watched them go, Isabella bouncing at your side. When you turned to face her, she was smiling. "I'm glad we're here, Mama," she said. "It feels amazing."

You couldn't have agreed more.

The next few moments were a blur. You clamped a pair of kids' concert earmuffs on her head and followed Mitch to the front of the stage. Then, bodyguards led you to an area of the crowd where you could see the show fully displayed. Isabella squealed with excitement as you stood in the center of the madness, the lights, the music, the energy.

You had no idea what you'd been worried about.

They started their set off with a bang. Tony pounded the drums, and Natasha, Bucky, and Wanda took the crowd on a high-energy journey through their first song - Rebel's Anthem, the title track. Natasha sang her heart out, working the stage and following the overarching theme. The band was a unit, an entity. They were unstoppable.

The audience was going wild, the cheering growing louder. They were having a blast. Isabella was bouncing, waving her arms in the air, with a huge smile. Natasha noticed you and waved before running across the stage and climbing the ladder to the upper level. She grabbed the mic and shouted into it.

She gripped the mic stand, head tilted back, soaking in the chaos before leaning into the mic, her voice smooth.

"We are Velvet Rebellion—welcome to the fucking show!"

The arena erupted.

Night Three - Los Angeles - The Forum

People still throw their underwear on stage. It’s always been a thing that never seemed to go away. Natasha strutted across the stage, her boots thudding heavily against the floor, a fire in her eyes. She was in her element—this was her world. The crowd went wild as her voice soared above the instruments, each note commanding their attention.

But as the show continued, something unexpected happened. From the middle of the crowd, a piece of clothing soared through the air, and before Natasha could even blink, a bra landed squarely on the stage, hitting the ground with a soft thud. The crowd roared with laughter and cheers.

"Really? This again?" Natasha muttered with a playful smirk, bending down to grab the offending garment. She held it up, her eyebrow quirked as she looked out at the audience. "You all are a special crowd," she teased, winking.

The audience erupted into cheers, loving every second of it. And as she tossed the bra to the side, another flew through the air, hitting Tony in the face. He let out a dramatic gasp, holding his hands to his cheeks like he’d been slapped.

“You’re all insane,” He called out, laughing as he took the microphone. “But hey, keep ‘em coming!”

Wanda rolled her eyes from behind Natasha. “Can we just play the music and not have a strip show every night?” she grumbled, but even she was smiling at the disorder.

"We should take a poll and see who wants a strip show more—the fans or our band," Natasha said with a wink.

The audience screamed, and Bucky grinned. "Well, now you've done it, Nat," he teased, throwing his arm around her shoulder. "We've got an audience to please!"

They played a few more songs, and the audience got rowdier as they did.

Night 4: On the Tour Bus – Heading to Vegas

Everyone always wondered what the band did while on tour. Specifically, what happened on the tour bus. She'd heard rumors of groupies, parties, and drugs, and she knew some bands get up to that; they'd gotten up to it at one point.

The reality of their time on the bus was a lot different. It was a different type of party with a kid on the bus for the next month.

Wanda sat cross-legged on the floor, her guitar resting in her lap. Her fingers strummed over the strings, filling the bus with music. Isabella lay across the couch behind her, her nose buried in a book. The guys were having some sort of eating contest. Natasha leaned against you, eyes half-closed, her head resting on your shoulder.

It was peaceful, calm, and semi-quiet, and you were content.

“You were amazing tonight,” you said softly, letting the bus lull the both of you to a state of peace.

“Yeah?” Natasha’s voice was tired but content. “I didn’t hear the crowd. I only saw you.”

You blushed and leaned forward, your lips brushing against hers. She smiled, returning the kiss.

Isabella groaned. "Please stop." followed by fake kissing noises from the rest of the group.

"We need our own room," Natasha muttered.

"I couldn't agree more," You laughed.

Night 6 - Chicago – United Center

The space behind the stage was cramped that night, and the team had made room for an interviewer from one of Chicago’s most prominent music stations, who was ready to get some behind-the-scenes moments.

“Alright, guys!” the interviewer called, waving the band over. “Let’s get some pictures, and then I have a few questions for you.”

When Tony pulled her into a side hug, Natasha had just finished catching her breath and wiping the sweat from her forehead. They smiled for pictures and answered questions as best they could.

"Alright, let’s spice things up a little—if you could steal one song from another artist and make it your own, which one would it be and why? Don’t hold back. I want the juicy stuff."

Natasha hummed thoughtfully, considering the question.

"Mine would have to be the Killers," she answered. "Their music has this fun, energetic feel to it. I want to give their songs a more modern sound."

The rest of the band gave their answers, and the interviewer smiled. "Interesting answers!" She turned back to the camera, grinning. "Now, it's time for a few fan questions. We've received thousands of letters from people worldwide and want to get some of their messages to you. So, without further ado, here's the first question..."

They ran through a list of questions, most of which were typical. "Who is your biggest inspiration?"

"What is your favorite part about being on the road?"

"What's the funniest thing that's happened so far on tour?"

Then, the interviewer's smile faltered. "The final question," she announced, sounding more serious. "We have a very special one today."

Everyone exchanged a confused look, but they remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

"A young woman wrote us a letter. Her name is Haley, and she's been a fan of Velvet Rebellion since their early days. She's currently battling cancer and is a huge fan of yours. She'd love to meet you. Can we set something up for the next show? You have a concert in Seattle the day after tomorrow."

"Bring her out," Wanda nodded, and the rest of the band agreed.

Night 7 – Seattle – Climate Pledge Arena

Meeting a fan was always a highlight for the band, but something about Haley made their night feel exceptional.

Haley was a teenage girl with a spark in her eyes despite the battle she was facing. The moment she stepped into the backstage area, her eyes filled with awe, and the crew couldn’t help but smile. They had all read her letter, and now, she was—standing before them.

The first thing she did when they met was quote a lyric from one of their deep cuts. It caught Natasha off guard, making her smile more expansive than usual.

"You know the words to 'Interstellar'? That's impressive," Natasha said, chuckling.

Haley grinned sheepishly, her cheeks turning pink. "I have a lot of time to listen to music. You're like... my escape. I don’t know how to explain it. Your songs help me get through the tough days."

Wanda's heart warmed at the sincerity in Haley’s voice. She put a hand on Haley's shoulder. "That’s what it’s all about," she said gently. "Music is therapy; it’s a way to keep going."

"Okay, I think it’s time for a tour," Steve said, smiling. "How would you like a backstage pass? We'll show you around."

Haley's eyes widened, and she practically squealed in excitement. "Are you serious?!"

"Of course," Steve replied, motioning for her to follow him. "Come on, let’s get this show started."

The band led Haley through the arena, showing her their dressing rooms, the massive stage that would soon be packed with screaming fans, and even the tour bus that had become their home on the road. Whenever they stopped to explain something, Haley was in awe, her hands trembling slightly with excitement but always eager to learn.

Eventually, it came time for the show, and the band had to prepare. But before they parted ways, Natasha turned to Haley.

"I've got something for you," she said, her voice soft. She pulled a leather jacket out of her rack. "We all signed it," she explained.

Haley took the jacket, tears filling her eyes as she held it close.

"I'll keep fighting," she said, hugging it.

"That's all we can do."

Night 23 – Tour Bus – En Route to Another City

Tour life was proving to be fun. For Velvet Rebellion, it meant extensive time together. Often, too much time together. The world outside was a blur of lights and shadows, but inside, the bus was an oasis of quiet disarray—a mix of scattered bags, leftover snacks, and half-empty water bottles. The rest of the band was elsewhere, chatting, winding down, or preparing for the next show. But in the back bedroom, it was just you and Natasha.

You lay on the bed, your legs intertwined, as Natasha caressed your belly. It was more soothing for her than you as she expressed her gratitude for this tour.

"I'm glad I got to do this," Natasha said, tracing invisible patterns over your skin.

"Do what?" You asked, a smile playing on your lips.

"Spend so much time with you," she whispered. "I know a lot of these days are blending now."

"It's a good kind of blending," you said. "I toured with my dad when I was a kid, but this is different."

"How?"

"I had a lot of time to hang out and have fun. Isabella enjoys the whole experience, and we have each other."

Natasha smiled. "True."

"I'm enjoying every moment with you," you said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into the touch, humming softly.

"Me too."

You leaned forward and kissed her lips, slow and tender. Her lips were soft against yours, and you savored the moment. You pulled away after a moment, smiling.

"What's on your mind?" You asked, sensing that she wanted to say something.

"We've been working so hard," she began, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "I'm glad we've found this moment. We've earned it."

"I agree," you nodded. " Thank God Wanda is our built-in childcare. She would be a great mom."

"Don't let her hear you say that," Natasha joked. "Next thing you know, she's pregnant or something."

"Would Agatha approve?"

"God no," Natasha snorted.

"Then they can be the weird aunts."

"Weird aunts?"

"Yeah, you know... the cool ones who spoil the kids and tell them all the stuff mommy wouldn't."

"They'd love that even more," She nodded. The TV blasted as the character onscreen did a bit that lasted too long for your liking.

"This TV has been playing silly cartoons for a while now," You moved to reach for the remote. It hadn't bothered you before, but now you wanted to enjoy your time together.

"No, don't turn it off," Natasha reached for your hands. "It will help the noise."

"Noise?" You raised a brow in confusion.

"You'll see."

"What are you up to, Ms. Romanoff?"

"Not much," she said, smirking.

"Liar."

"I just wanted a little alone time," she shrugged, smiling innocently.

You narrowed your eyes. "Uh-huh."

She laughed, pulled you closer, and kissed you again. "You can be quite loud."

"Me?" You gasped, feigning shock. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't play coy with me," she teased, kissing the tip of your nose.

"We can't do this," You hummed. "Everyone will know." It had been a miracle you made it this far without sex on the bus.

"You think they aren't already speculating?" Natasha said as she traced her fingers along the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Well, I didn't want them to have proof."

"I don't care if they do." She said as she nuzzled your neck. "You smell so good."

You giggled. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

Her fingers danced across your skin, teasing and tickling as she explored.

"You're not convincing me," You said through a moan as she used her other hand to pull down the front of your pants.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping you relax," she purred, lips pressing against your ear.

"Relax?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Before she could answer, there was a knock on the door. You pulled away quickly enough to see Isabella peek her head in.

"Bus beds are cramped. I want to sleep with you," She muttered as she pushed herself between you and Natasha.

"We were..." Natasha sighed.

"Were?" Isabella asked, her eyes already closing.

"I guess the fun's over," you said as you looked at Natasha.

"For now." She shook her head. "We really need those hotel rooms."

"We only have two more weeks."

"Two weeks of torture."

"It's not so bad," you chuckled.

"No," she said, smiling. "It isn't."

"I still wanna know what you were doing." Isabella cuddled into you.

"You'll find out later." Natasha quipped.

"Much later," You answered. "When you're thirty-five."

"You guys are weird," Isabella mumbled as she drifted asleep.

"We are," you said, glancing at Natasha, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

"I don't mind." She said, leaning in to press a kiss against your forehead.

"Neither do I."

You fell asleep, your body warm, your heart full. And you were grateful for every minute of it.

Morning Before the Next Show – Tour Strategy Session

Natasha sat with her legs propped on an empty chair, her sunglasses still on despite being indoors. Steve was hunched over his notebook, Bucky drummed a pen against his knee, and Wanda scrolled through her phone, occasionally tossing suggestions without looking up.

“We need to shake things up,” Steve muttered, flipping a page. “Something to make people feel like every show is different—like they’re getting something special.”

“More pyrotechnics?” Wanda suggested, glancing up briefly with a smirk.

“We’re already one spark away from burning the stage down,” Bucky shot back, earning a snort from Natasha.

Tony, pacing at the front of the room with a tablet in hand, turned sharply. “What about her?” He pointed the tablet directly at you, where you lazily sipped your coffee, not expecting to be dragged into the conversation.

You blinked. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Tony said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re already part of the tour. The crowd eats it up whenever Natasha looks at you during a set or when you step out to fix something on stage. Why not make it an actual thing? Not just an interlude. A segment.”

The room went quiet, the idea lingering in the air like static.

Natasha finally lowered her sunglasses, her green eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “What exactly are you suggesting? We turn her into some kind of stage prop?”

“No,” Tony replied with a roll of his eyes. “I’m suggesting you lean into what’s already working. Maybe it’s an onstage Q&A segment, or she reads fan letters live. Hell, maybe she performs something with you—I don't know. Our hit song is one that she's featured on."

Bucky nodded slowly. “Could be cool. Breaks up the set, gives the fans something unexpected.”

Steve shrugged. "Why not? We'll have to figure out the details, but the concept is solid. It would work."

Natasha turned to face you, her gaze questioning.

"Up for a little on-stage action?"

"I'm game," You shrugged.

"Great. Now, let's go over the rest of the tour," Steve said, flipping to a fresh page.

Night 34 – Dallas – American Airlines Center

The crowd's roar seeped through the walls like a pulse, vibrating in your chest before you stepped onto the stage. Singing at a birthday party? Easy. Singing in an arena filled with thousands of people, blinding lights, or electric energy? That was something else entirely.

Backstage was a blur of movement—crew members adjusting cables, last-minute checks on instruments, radios buzzing with updates. But all you could focus on was the small mic pack being clipped to your bra, its weight suddenly feeling heavier than it should. Your hands felt clammy, nerves humming under your skin.

You tried to think of the things you would need to do. Where to stand on the stage, where to look, and how to sing. Your mind was blanking on everything. Then you saw her.

Across the stage, perched casually atop a random amp, was Isabella. Her oversized crew jacket nearly swallowed her whole, sleeves rolled up messily. She was chewing a piece of licorice you usually wouldn't let her have. But her eyes caught you—the same eyes that had watched you tie her shoes, fix her hair, and now stand on the brink of something terrifying. Eyes filled with adoration, persistent, as if to say, You’re already everything to me.

“You got this,” Mitch’s voice broke through, grounding you as she adjusted the earpiece.

You exhaled, nodding. “Thanks. Just as we rehearsed.”

The mic was placed in your hand, cool against your palm. You didn’t move toward the stage immediately. Instead, you crossed the short distance to Isabella, kneeling so your foreheads touched, the arena's noise fading into the background.

“Good luck, Mama,” she whispered, her tiny voice holding more power than a cheer ever could.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the rush of emotion. Standing, you glanced over your shoulder. “Mitch, take care of my kid!” you called, tossing a playful wink back at Isabella.

With that, you stepped into position. Natasha was singing the first lyric, her voice soft and smooth. The crowd was into it, singing along like a beautiful chorus.

"I don't want to make it obvious,

Caught in the midst and can't lie.

Every touch, you make it harder for me, baby,

Go ahead and look me in my eyes,"

The lyrics left your lips quickly, and you were surprised by the strength in your voice. You kept the pace, moving from one line to the next. You had a few moments in the spotlight, and then it was Natasha's turn again.

As the song ended, you stood there, breathing heavily. You could see the fans screaming, cheering, and chanting, but it all sounded muted, like white noise.

"Let's give it up for my beautiful girlfriend,"

Natasha's words snapped you out of the daze. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and the crowd screamed louder, a deafening roar that filled the space.

"She's not only a killer musician, she's an amazing mom. She's raising the coolest kid I've ever met," Natasha continued, her gaze meeting yours. “And she’s a pretty dope singer.” She winked. 

Your heart swelled at her words, and you couldn't help but smile. The audience continued to cheer, and you knew the following few shows would be the craziest yet.

Night 35 - Houston – Toyota Center

The show went well. Really well.

The adrenaline was still humming under your skin, even as you stepped offstage, your heart racing not from nerves this time but from the electric energy of the crowd. The Toyota Center had been packed, the lights blinding, the sound of thousands of voices blending into one overwhelming roar.

You were still slightly nervous about performing with the band again—those familiar jitters creeping in right before your cue. But Natasha had reassured you backstage, her hands gently cupping your face, her steady gaze melting the tension from your shoulders.

“It’ll be fine,” she whispered, her thumb brushing your cheek. “You’ve got this.”

She was right.

This time, as you finished your verse, the last note still lingering in the charged air, Natasha didn’t hesitate. She crossed the stage with that effortless confidence she carried like armor and pressed a kiss to your lips.

The crowd erupted.

Shouts, cheers, and whistles filled the arena, waves of excitement crashing over you both. Natasha grinned, her eyes sparkling under the stage lights as if she’d known exactly what kind of reaction that gesture would ignite.

After the final song, the band gathered center stage, taking their bows and soaking in the crowd’s roaring applause. But tonight was special—not just because of the show’s success.

Isabella was allowed to come onto the stage.

She dashed out from the wings, her little crew jacket hanging proudly off her shoulders. The crowd cheered for her just as loudly, and she beamed, standing proudly beside you.

Natasha crouched down, pulling her into a playful side hug, whispering something in her ear that made Isabella giggle. The dance crew waved her over, and without hesitation, she joined them, taking a bow like she’d been part of the show all along.

She quickly became a crew favorite—her charm was impossible to resist, and her confidence grew with each city and show.

You realized something as you stood there, hand in Natasha’s, watching Isabella bask in the spotlight's glow.

This wasn’t just another night on tour. This was a memory—a perfect, untouchable moment.

*******

Getting that hotel room was a must on your list of things to do on the tour. You were growing tired of cramped tour buses, shared bathrooms, and the constant hum of the road beneath your feet. The novelty of waking up in a different city every day had started to wear thin, replaced by an ache for a real bed, fresh sheets, and a door you could actually lock.

So, getting that hotel room proved to be a must on your list of things for the tour.

You'd had a few drinks after the show.

You didn't want to be drunk, but a bit tipsy was fun. It was nice to relax.

The elevator ride to the room seemed to take an eternity, even though it was only a few floors. When the doors finally slid open, you stepped out, fumbling with the keycard as you approached the door.

"Let me get that," Natasha said, taking the card from your hand and sliding it into the slot. Her hands were strategically placed on your hips, guiding you toward the door as it opened.

"You're drunk," Natasha laughed as she led you inside.

"Just a little."

"A little too much."

"Maybe."

The room was dark and quiet, the curtains drawn closed.

You kicked off your shoes and fell backward onto the bed, sighing in contentment.

"I could fall asleep like this," you mumbled, eyes drifting closed.

Natasha followed behind you, kicking off her boots with a groan. “I thought I’d miss the chaos,” she said, flopping onto the bed beside you. “I don’t.”

"Tour life is exhausting," You wiped your face.

"You're telling me," she sighed, stretching her legs.

"I could go for a nap."

"You and me both."

"It's a big bed."

"Yeah, but I'm not moving," She yawned, nuzzling her head into the pillows.

"I think I'll stay here too."

You didn't move, enjoying the feeling of the cool sheets and soft pillows.

“This was a good idea,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. "An excellent idea."

"You don't think Isabella will come knocking, will she?"

"Not with the promise of soda and a night with Wanda," You shook your head. "I'm all yours."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Natasha's gaze drifted over your face, and a slight smirk appeared on her lips.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

"Just wondering..."

"About what?"

"If you're as tired as I am," She replied.

"Probably."

"Well, let's not waste a perfect bed," Natasha said, rolling onto her side, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the smirk off your face. "Or a perfect good bathtub." You pointed it out.

"Hmm," Natasha hummed, her eyes narrowing. "True."

"And there's a lot of room in there," you added, sitting up.

"It does seem like a shame to waste it."

You grinned, tugging on her hand. "Then let's not."

Natasha chuckled, following you to the bathroom, her eyes never leaving yours.

The tub was massive—the small size of a pool.

"Hotel bubble bath?" Natasha read the small bottle as you started the water.

"It'll do," You shrugged as you began to strip yourself, getting your head stuck in the shirt.

"Let me do it," She laughed as she helped you out, revealing the pout on your face.

"I'm super coordinated right now," You snorted, rolling your eyes.

"Clearly."

"Shut up," You giggled, leaning into her touch as she slowly peeled the fabric from your body.

"You're cute."

"I am."

"Let's get you cleaned up."

"Okay."

She stepped behind you, her fingers dancing over the bare skin of your back.

"We should probably get this off," She said, her voice low as she tugged on the fabric of your sports bra.

"You first."

Natasha pulled her shirt over her head, her fingers moving to the button on her jeans. You watched her, transfixed, as she unzipped them, pushing the fabric down her thighs and kicking them off.

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest.

"Now you."

You nodded, reaching for the clasp of your bra and undoing it with trembling fingers. You slid the straps from your shoulders, letting the fabric fall to the floor.

"God, you're gorgeous," Natasha whispered, her gaze raking over your body.

"You are."

"No, you," She insisted, closing the distance between you and capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

Your hands found her hips, pulling her closer as you deepened the kiss, your tongues exploring each other's mouths.

Her skin was soft against yours, her hair tickling your neck.

You let out a soft moan as she trailed kisses along your jaw, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck.

"Fuck, Nat," You whimpered, gripping her hips tighter.

"You're so fucking beautiful," She murmured, her hands cupping your breasts.

You arched into her touch, desperate for more.

"Please," You begged, your voice barely a whisper.

"Anything you want," She breathed, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"I want us actually to bathe first," You whispered with a sigh.

"Right," Natasha chuckled, pulling away reluctantly.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize," She smiled, kissing your forehead softly. "I just need a minute."

You nodded, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach.

The water was hot against your skin as you settled into the tub, the bubbles surrounding you like a cloud. She slid in behind you, her breast pressing against your back.

"I feel like I'm in the movies."

"Like a bubble bath for two."

"Exactly."

"It's perfect," Natasha said, resting her chin on your shoulder.

"Yes," You agreed, leaning back into her, your eyes fluttering shut.

"Just the two of us," She whispered, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh.

"How are you feeling?" You asked. "I know tour life has been pretty tame so far."

"Yeah, and then it gets crazy," Natasha shrugged. "This is usually when we go stir-crazy. Use things to keep us awake. Do other things."

"I see."

"It's always a struggle. Trying to keep a healthy balance," Natasha chuckled, her voice low.

"Yeah," You said, nodding. You leaned your head back to lean against her shoulder. "This is nice."

"It is," Natasha agreed, her fingers finding your skin again. "And the room is so big. We could do a lot of things here."

"What kinds of things?" You asked, trying to ignore how her fingers were making you feel.

"I was thinking," Natasha said, her voice low, "that we could start with this." She trailed her hands to your breast, tweaking your nipples with soapy water on her hands before moving lower. "Still can't believe I've had you all to myself for almost a year," Natasha murmured, her fingers circling your clit.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Natasha."

"Hmm?"

"Don't tease me," You said, a slight whine escaping your throat.

"I'm not teasing you," She said, her voice dropping lower. "I'm giving you what you want."

A small moan left your throat, your legs widening as far as they could as she pressed harder.

"Oh god," You whimpered, your breath catching in your throat.

"That's it," Natasha murmured, her fingers never stopping. "You're so beautiful."

"Nat."

"Come for me," She urged, her fingers moving faster, the water splashing around you.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your back arching as you came. You didn't hesitate to turn and straddle her lap as you came down. The feel of her breasts against yours was intoxicating.

"I've been waiting for this," You said, your voice husky.

"Me, too."

You kissed her hungrily, your hands tangling in her hair as you explored each other's bodies. Her hands moved lower, cupping your ass, pulling you closer. You gasped as she pressed her thigh against your center, the friction making you shiver.

"I want you so bad," She moaned, her fingers sliding between your folds.

"Fuck," You whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily.

"So wet," She breathed, her thumb rubbing your clit in slow circles.

"Nat."

"That's it," She whispered, her voice strained. "Come for me. Let me hear you again, baby."

You cried out as your orgasm washed over you, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed through you.

"Nat," You moaned, leaning forward and burying your face in the crook of her neck.

"That was incredible," Natasha said, her breathing ragged.

"It was," You agreed, kissing her collarbone.

"We're not done," She smirked, pulling you closer.

"No, we're not." Your lips ghosted over hers.

"I want to do something," Natasha said suddenly.

"What?" You asked her, never stopping for breath as you kissed.

"Let's get married," She said. "I want to marry you." She breathed, opening her eyes as you leaned back.

"Here? In this hotel bathroom?"

"That's it," Natasha grinned, feeling at ease with your response. "No more tequila for you."

"Nat," You giggled.

"I'm serious. I want to marry you," She said.

"Yes." You answered, holding her face in your hands.

"Really?"

"Yes, yes, yes," You said. "I want to marry you."

"Wait," She kissed your lips. She stood from the tub, not even caring about the water trailing behind her as she rushed into the bedroom for her luggage. You sat back, wondering where she was going and what she was doing, before she walked back into the room with a box.

"Nat?" You questioned. "You're serious?" You gasped.

"I know this probably sucks on the scale of when to ask for marriage, but I'm afraid when my head hits those pillows, I'll fall asleep," She said. She grabbed a towel for you, helping you wrap it around your body before wrapping another around hers. "I want this."

"Natasha, yes."

"Y/n, marry me," She smiled, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"I will," You grinned, tears brimming in your eyes.

Natasha removed the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger. It fits perfectly.

"Perfect," She said, kissing your knuckles.

"It's beautiful," You breathed, admiring the sparkling diamonds. "Where did you buy this? When did you buy this?"

"The night of our first performance," She answered. "I figured you're much too boujie for Vegas."

"I am," You nodded.

"If you want, we can forget this thing that ever happened," she began. "I can plan a whole dinner. Have this big show. I can..."

"Natasha, stop," You chuckled, silencing her with a kiss. "This is perfect."

"Good."

"You're perfect."

"Well, not really," She chuckled. "But I'm working on it."

"That's all we can ask for."

"Yeah," She breathed, a content smile tugging at her lips. "You're going to marry me?"

"I am," You beamed, wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her passionately.

"I love you."

"I love you."

You felt giddy as she led you toward the bed, her towel falling away from her body and yours quickly following. You didn't even think that neither of you was truly dry.

"Nat, the towels..."

"We'll worry about it later," She said, pulling you beside her.

"We should...get under the covers."

"Yeah, probably," She breathed, her hands roaming your body.

"Or," You smirked, your hands moving lower, "we could just stay here."

"That sounds good to me," She grinned, pulling you closer.

"Oh, I have so much to think about," You began to get excited again. "When are we doing this? Where? Isabella goes home next week. I'd want her to be there. My parents will kill me if they aren't there. How do we keep this a secret?"

"Breathe, baby," She said, her hand finding your chin and lifting it so your eyes met. "We'll figure it out. Just enjoy the moment."

"I'm getting married," You smiled, a content sigh escaping your lips.

"We're getting married."

"We're getting married."

[blackjackkent]

I think it's about time someone looked after you. How about Shadowheart? 🦉🐻

for @resting-meme-face

[lovieku]

TRUE LOVE ⋆ 정국

when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.

⋆⁺₊❅. 5/6 from christmas & chill

pairing tattoo artist!jk x fem reader

genre fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l

warnings jk 24 | oc 24, jk thinks he’s too cool for love, oc suffers from a chronic case of “i can fix him”, she eventually does, oc simps HARDDD and jk only pretends to be unaffected, yea he’s a bit of a dick sometimes but he’s also Very funny, brief description of panic attacks, male masturbation, kissing, idk what else to add i just rly rly love them and will think of them for the entirety of xmas season

word count 10.2k

author’s note hi lovies 🩷 it’s my last time with c&c 🙁 i’m kinda emotional omg… it’s been such a fun, warm and lovely week, and i love each one of you for showing endless support to this project <33 i’ll keep trying to not disappoint… please tell me if you like this!!! thank u always and always 🩷 luv u <3

banner by the gorgeous @awrkive ⊹₊⟡⋆

On the first day of December, your path crosses with thee Jeon Jeongguk’s after enough years for your brain to trip slightly before recognising him. But it would have been impossible not to—there’s likely a whole, well-preserved section of your thinking organ dedicated to that mortifying phase of high school, when your hormones turned life into an endless internal tug-of-war.

The moment your eyes widen at having him stand in front of you, you’re yanked unceremoniously into the past, brought back to buried, locked and left to gather dust feelings that have your teenage self’s screams echoing within you in a chorus of delight and cringe.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is simply following his duties as a tattoo artist. When he catches sight of you next to his appointed client on such a breezy day, the cold December air starting to find its space even in the confines of his studio, he only nods his chin upward at you in slow recognition.

It’s awkward, at first. Only because you make it.

You’d volunteered to accompany Eunbi, your best friend, to get her first tattoo as an early Christmas self-gift. Your mission was clear: support her, hold her hand if the pain became unbearable (though you’re probably the least dependable person when it comes to making clarity in situations of panic, as seen right now), and be the first to bask in her excitement as she finally sees what she’s always pictured to be inked on the skin of her forearm. A blue whale tattoo, large enough to make you wince just thinking about the needlework.

You’d never go through something like that. Never.

And that’s exactly what’s showing on your face when you’re met with Jeongguk’s full sleeve of tattoos, leaving you rooted to the spot.

You’d always known him to be the different kid, the quiet one with forced sharp eyes that canonically listened to alternative rock and glared at anyone who dared approach, whether to tease him or befriend him. He’d convinced himself that no one could ever understand him.

See, you’d instead fooled yourself into thinking you were the exception. That you did understand him.

Fourteen-year-old you had gone through some weird phases, and the one that resurfaces now at the vision of his adult self is the one centered entirely around him. You unashamedly had the biggest crush on Jeongguk. To you, he was mysterious and edgy—in an effortlessly cool way.

You’d tried everything. Offered him your lunch more times than you were left with any for yourself. Even cut your bangs to have them fall over your eyes to mimic his fringe, dyed a strand in blue, overhauled your wardrobe to align with his back-and-grey one. None of it worked. He never noticed.

But, thinking of it now, there’s no way he didn't. He definitely did. How could any boy turn a blind eye to a lovesick girl’s heartfelt Valentine’s letter, a hopeless romantic girl who almost cried on the spot when she got rejected? Jeongguk just chose to willingly ignore it.

These are all valid reasons as to why your functions seem to slow down in his unexpected presence. And you’re not going to deny nor fake that his calm, almost detached demeanor doesn’t flow through your body and right to your left eye, making it twitch with a slight tremor.

Yet, you must also admit that your teenage self was onto something. Jeongguk has changed drastically but he’s also stayed the same. You think fourteen-year-old him would be proud of where he is right now. Two piercings on his lower lip and one on his eyebrow, intricate ink tracing up his muscled arm, his… muscled arms. Wow. And then, his studio. His own studio, a place for him and his passion, one that he made into his job. That’s undeniably cool.

Maybe just not cool enough for you to be gaping like an idiot as he moves with purpose, adjusting your friend’s arm to position the stencil he had prepared, perfectly fitting in the space she had chosen. His muscles flex with every shift, and it’s impossible for you to go past that with the way the black beater he’s wearing is loose on his torso, but still clinging on his chest.

Eunbi notices, of course. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed and in return she doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when your usual chatter dries up entirely, only gulping obnoxiously noisily and alternating that with nervous silences. Jeongguk, too, catches on.

He’d always known you as obnoxious and noisy. In, huh, a good way. Or whatever.

Jeongguk just agrees that you were (and probably still are, if the pastel yellow skirt softly flowing down your legs paired with a cozy cream sweater and the full toothed grin you shoot at your friend are any indicators) the pinpoint embodiment of his opposite. You’ve always been talkative, smiley, and friendly, eager to help and to receive help, not in the slightest ever turning down the opportunity to blabber on, and on, and on.

Honestly, Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever truly listened to a single word of your rambling back in the day, especially during those times when you’d bounce up to him and launch into enthusiastic rants about obscure alternative bands he himself hadn’t even heard of. He respected the hustle, though. He’d always wondered where you found the time and energy to immerse yourself in music like that.

He much preferred when you were less trying so hard to be him and mirror his tastes, more when you gave up on impressing him and simply stayed true to yourself, the girl whose heart belonged to Justin Bieber and One Direction. Truthfully, he fucked with them. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. His quiet, brooding image wouldn’t survive that revelation.

What he respected the most was your resilience. After all the times he rejected you and your awkward blurts of confessions, you still didn’t think it was enough of a reason for your villain origin story to take off, and instead remained the same frustratingly positive ray of sunshine you’d always been.

Now, as Jeongguk works on the tattoo in front of him, the very design that caused all these long-buried memories to rise back, his dark eyes flick toward you sitting on a stool in a near corner every now and then, a hint of confusion in his expression each time you take more than five seconds to reply to his small talk.

It’s just, you’re a bit taken aback. Since when does he do small talk? The foreign smoothness with which Jeongguk handles interactions is so far removed from the sullen boy you used to know. You’re not prepared for this version of him. It’s disarming, to say the least.

Enough time has passed for you to settle into the odd scenario, your current best friend and your long-standing high school crush in the same room. Slowly but surely, your curiosity sparkles again, and the signature tendency to let thoughts tumble out of your mouth unchecked returns to you naturally.

“Ouch, that looks painful.”

Jeongguk snorts, eyes trained on Eunbi’s arm as he glides the tattoo needle with precise strokes that have his brows pinching and the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips, a habit you remember from the past but one you’ve never found quite so distracting before.

Still, he multitasks and responds without missing a beat, “Wanna try?”

Wow. This is, like, the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. It spurs you on to do anything it takes to hear more of his voice, the sound of it definitely deeper than the shy tones you struggled to coax out of him ten years ago.

That is probably why you literally lie, “Hm. Maybe. I was thinking of getting one actually. In the future.”

Eunbi chokes on her spit, her chest coughing with the sudden, blatantly fake revelation, and Jeongguk promptly pauses, lifting the needle from her skin as his tattooist reflexes kick in. While your friend apologizes between a clearing of her throat and sinks back into the chair, she doesn’t keep from glaring at you, her expression screaming What the hell are you doing?

You deadpan. You’ll explain everything later and it’ll all make sense. And you know this will inevitably end up being added to the list of the many embarrassing facts she knows about you and threatens you with when she wants to go clubbing and you don’t.

Jeongguk uses the brief interruption to glance up at where you’re perched in the corner of his peripheral vision, just to square you up and down with a skeptical arch of his brow, “Really?”

You scoff, smoothing out the creases on your skirt as if the fabric is somehow responsible for the lie you just told, “Is that shocking?”

He hums, returning to his work with the buzz of the needle filling the studio again, his voice padded the more he gets closer to Eunbi’s forearm, “I just find it hard to believe such a princess like you could handle any pain.”

You gulp.

What you’re getting from this conversation is that Jeongguk has always had an idea of who you are in his mind all along. That he’s always perceived you in some way. As much as your inner fourteen-year-old is swooning at the attention, gobbling up each of the tiny crumbles he’s giving you, it doesn’t sit right with you. What exactly does he think of you?

“Test me.”

He shrugs, eyes fixated on the shade he’s perfectioning with black ink, “Busy now.”

“I’ll go pay for mine. I saw you have one last free spot today,” you announce, the words tumbling out with more confidence than you feel. You’re already on your feet before the sentence is fully formed, betraying the fact that your nosy tendencies had gotten the better of you earlier. You’d discreetly glanced at his appointment book when Jeongguk and Eunbi were finalizing her tattoo details and negotiating the final price at the desk.

He hums, head tilting slightly, “And I wanted to spend it bumming around.”

“Too bad. You’ll have to postpone that.”

You walked into this studio swearing you’d never let a needle even brush you.

Now you’re stretched out on a leather bench, Jeongguk leaning over you with a stencil in hand, gloved fingers moving with careful precision.

The design you’d chosen came from his portfolio—a delicate illustration of two butterflies in motion, their soft threads intertwining. You’d flipped through countless pages of bold skulls and intricate linework before settling on this.

The spot you’d chosen for the tattoo was the flat, firm plane between your breasts. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just a place you’d always liked. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that nature hadn’t exactly blessed you in the cleavage department. Subconsciously, perhaps, you thought that adding something there might give the illusion of more.

“Tehe,” you can’t stop the breathy giggle that escapes as the cool paper brushes against your skin. Your hand is pressed to your bra, holding it in place as best you can, though the situation feels so surreal it’s hard to focus on anything but the ridiculousness of it all.

Jeongguk glances up at you with a glare that’s more exasperated than angry before returning to the delicate task at hand, “What’s funny?”

Your voice wobbles, “I just— I tend to laugh during serious moments.”

“Oh. Weird.”

“Sorry.”

With a small sigh, he smooths the stencil, and once it’s transferred he hands you a square mirror, waiting for your approval. You nod, the butterflies now perfectly poised in their eternal dance, and Jeongguk doesn’t waste a moment.

The buzz of the needle fills the room as he leans closer, one gloved hand resting on the upper part of your chest to steady himself. He’s mere seconds from beginning the inking process when another laugh bubbles out of you.

Jeongguk sits back abruptly, dropping his pen onto the metal tray with an audible clink. Tilting his head, he levels you with a look of thinly veiled irritation. “I really can’t work if your chest keeps moving.”

“Sorry,” you blurt again, turning your head to face the wall. You clamp your lips together tightly, mentally scrolling through every sad memory you can conjure. Think of something awful. Your childhood dog dying. Okay, maybe not that sad—

“You haven’t changed a bit since high school. Always smiling like you live surrounded by flowers and rainbows,” Jeongguk’s mutter vibrates against your chest, warm breath fanning over the cold skin, distracting you from your no-giggling mission.

The unexpected observation has your brows furrowing in a mildly offended frown, and banter is ready on your tongue. “You’re just the same too, Gguk. The emo boy who thinks he’s too cool for a smile.”

“I’m not an emo boy. The fuck,” he scoffs, kissing his teeth and murmuring more of his indignation under his breath.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. I can teach you.”

The whirring needle glides across your skin with a slightly firmer touch, making you hiss softly under your breath. He seems unbothered by the reaction, and instead bothered by your words, “Teach me what.”

“How to smile a bit more,” you reply, your voice laced with mockery as you keep your gaze firmly fixed on the wall. The smirk playing on your lips is triumphant; he walked right into your little jab, hehe.

Your mind is already racing, piecing together the beginning of a sarcastic rant about how his perpetual scowl probably contributed to his mysterious high school persona. For the sake of his ego, you won’t add how it worked in his favor, how more than one girl (your own self) found his untouchable vibe completely irresistible.

Even though, thinking back, he looked ridiculous. His big, round, slightly scared-of-the-world eyes truly didn’t belong with the heavy black eyeliner.

But before you can get a single word out, Jeongguk straightens his posture, pulling away from your chest. With a practiced motion, he tosses one of his gloves onto the counter behind him, his expression cool and indifferent. “It’s done.”

“Done?!” you exclaim, tilting your chin down to look at your chest. You go slightly cross-eyed trying to catch a glimpse of the design now inked onto your skin. Forever.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even feel it.”

Jeongguk seems equally done with small talk, transitioning into a professional explanation of the tattoo’s aftercare step. His tone is calm but clipped, and you can’t tell if it’s his usual demeanor or just reserved for you. He also hands you a small tube of cream of which you’re not sure the use of, too enthralled by the vision of his colored sleeve this up close.

And still laying on the leather bed, you almost reach to trace one of the many lines with your finger before he interrupts, “You can pay with Yoongi at the entrance.”

Clearing your throat, you sit up, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt as Jeongguk turns his back to you, his focus already back on cleaning his tools. You still are not over, “Thank you, Jeongguk. Can I— huh. Can I get your number?”

He pauses mid-motion, just long enough for the silence to stretch thin and taut. Turning around to study your features, he stares you up and down with knitted brows and a hostile kind of confusion painting his expression. “… For what exactly?”

“In case anything happens with the tattoo.”

Jeongguk stills for a second, eyes narrowing slightly, then turns back to what’s keeping him so occupied with a noncommittal grunt, “Huh. Sure. Yoongi has my business cards at the desk. You can ask him. Have a good day.”

With Eunbi practically dragging you out of the room, you don’t have the chance to say anything more, though your chest burns with indignation. It’s not that you expect him to fall over himself at the chance to catch up, but the sheer indifference is maddening.

Should you pretend you don’t care either? You could. But really, who are you fooling? You still have those old diaries buried somewhere in your closet, their pages crammed with his name written in looping, lovesick cursive. That little girl in you never truly died.

On the fourth day of December, you finally text him. It’s about your tattoo, of course. There’s not much else to say to him, but when his only reply to your picture of the healing process is a yellow thumbs up, you find your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Words start forming before you’ve fully processed them, and before you know it, you hit send.

You [3:39 p.m]: btw u still friends with kim tae?

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: Yes

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: He’s my best friend

You [3:43 p.m.]: ohhh, cool

jeongguk [3:45 p.m.]: You want his number?

You [3:46 p.m.]: no… i’m good with yours ☺️

You can’t help but giggle at how his typing bubbles appear and then fade for a whole minute, biting your lower lip with a sheepish grin, savoring the silent victory. You’re doing this for your fourteen-year-old self, who would’ve squealed at the thought of making Jeon Jeongguk flustered. But you’re a different girl now. You’ve changed. No man could ever reject—

jeongguk [3:48 p.m.]: If there’s nothing else about the tattoo then 👋

“Hmph,” your frown is so pronounced that you feel your chin aching and your wrinkles prematurely deepening. Well, this is not the first time you come face first with his sour antics. Only now, you’re prepared.

You [3:48 p.m.]: yall hanging out soon? let me join

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: Why lol

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: He barely even remembers you probs

You [3:50 p.m.]: who would not remember me

jeongguk [3:50 p.m.]: The only thing i’m now remembering about you is how I couldn’t stand your ass

You gasp, hand coming up to brush against your parted lips. With a huff, you hastily click at your keyboard, “Mean. Sent. Ugh.”

On the sixth day of December, your persistence pays off, and you find yourself at a random bar you’d never been to before, seated with both Jeongguk and Taehyung.

Between Jeongguk’s cigarette breaks—forcing the three of you to brave the cold outside—and brief moments in corners of the cramped place where the music feels muffled against the walls, you manage to catch up with Taehyung. The rest of the time though, the noise inside is so deafening that it makes any kind of meaningful conversation impossible.

Even more when a random girl slides into the booth next to him, capturing his attention entirely, leaving you and Jeongguk in paradoxical silence.

The tattoo artist has been glued to his phone with his head down for the last 20 minutes, and now you alternate between observing his side profile, roughened by the piercings and a more defined jawline, and analysing the weird dynamic that is beginning to form between Taehyung and the girl, sitting in front of you.

Alone with your thoughts and, well, the pulsating music, you feel yourself getting unreasonably closer to symptoms you know all too well, that threaten to have you spiraling. You shake your head, forcing it to stop. There’s no reason for anxiety to visit you at such an inconvenient time.

But of course, the little voice in your head starts listing all the totally valid motives why this is indeed the perfect time for it to visit you.

The bar feels suffocating on your skin.

Your dress clings too tightly.

The couple facing you is shamelessly close to making out.

Jeongguk sighs in visible boredom.

You shouldn’t have come. Hell, you shouldn't have suggested it in the first place. A smarter version of yourself would have brought Eunbi for balance, for comfort. But in your foolishness, you thought this could be an opportunity for you and Jeongguk to catch up. Instead, you feel foreign to him, foreign to this pub booth, and the air begins to feel foreign to your lungs. You’ve never liked bars, clubs, or places with loud music.

You sniffle, looking down at your lap. Then up at the ceiling. Then around the room. It keeps spinning and booming with volume that only adds to the feeling of helplessness. Quick, quick, quick.

What are five things that you can see?

Five. Your gaze falls on Taehyung and the girl, their lips and tongues clumsily entangled as they laugh between sloppy kisses. No help there. The air catches harder in your throat.

Four. Your empty glass, its smudged rim a reminder of the single drink you had, now sitting uncomfortably in your stomach.

Three. Your scuffed heels, their tips worn to the nub despite your best efforts to hide it with a marker.

Two. The swirling lights above the bar, dizzying as they flash brighter and brighter.

One. Jeongguk’s tattooed hand on your thigh.

His fingers dig into the skin, shaking you alarmedly, with a force you’ve never known from him, not even when it came to stopping your shaking stomach as you were laying on the studio’s leather bed.

Head snapping up to face him, you’re met with a perfect resemblance of how you must look right now. Wide eyes, knitted brows, nose flaring and exhaling, and you try to follow the movements of his mouth, but they jumble together annoyingly in your brain. You lean closer, narrowed orbs still fixated on his lips to try and read them. Are… you… ok—

“___, you’re scaring me. Hey, hello? Are you okay?”

Jeongguk moves from your thigh to your shoulders, jolting you gently but firmly from the fog that is threatening to cloud up your brain. The sudden clarity hits you, but you still stumble forward, your weight toppling over his chest. With it, your head dips rapidly, hurtling toward the sharp edge of the table, and before Jeongguk knows it his instinct snaps and he catches you promptly.

The next steps blur together. You vaguely register the boy next to you standing up and pulling you along with him, his broad shoulders supporting one of your arms while his inked one secures around the small of your waist, holding you firmly against him.

Then, it’s nothing but brief flashes. Jeongguk pressing a water bottle to your lips. Sitting you down on the stairs outside the pub. Holding your hair back as you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach onto the pavement. Cracking a smile to make you laugh, showing off his tattoos in exaggerated detail like it’s the grandest tour of your life. Opening the door to his car and gently easing you into the passenger seat, ensuring the seatbelt clicks into place.

Inside his car, you slowly feel your senses come back to you.

At a redlight that you recognise as the one near your apartment complex, you muster a small and hoarse thank you. Jeongguk only hums low, eyes fixated on the road and fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.

Before a sheepish smile can make its way on your lips and spread across your face, your head twitches back as your brows furrow. Your thoughts suddenly catch up with you, “Hey, how do you know the way to my flat?”

His gaze briefly flicks toward you in annoyance, then back to the road. “You literally just told me.”

“Oh.” A beat passes before you giggle softly. “Don’t remember.”

Jeongguk mutters something intelligible under his breath, and next thing you know he’s turning down your street and slowing in front of the building that matches the number you gave him. Given your current state, he begins to question if that is even the right one.

“This one!” You point at the tall front gate with an almost childlike excitement, back shifting slightly from the seat as your grin stretches wide. Jeongguk grimaces. Why the fuck do you look like you’ve been reuinted with your home after years apart, as if you weren’t there just a couple hours ago?

“Right. Huh, you good with going back on your own?”

“Yes. I’d hate to bother you further. I’m sorry for this, I… was getting better, I guess.”

The sad confession doesn’t land with the weight it should, softened by the smile painted on your lips and the chuckle you let out as if it were nothing. Jeongguk’s eyelid twitches, unsettled by the unnecessary happiness that always seems to drip from you, even when it doesn’t belong.

“‘S okay. Have a good night,” he awkwardly bows his head, waiting for you to exit the car. When you stay still, he clears his throat, adding just to fill the silence, and perhaps because he means it, “Huh, and make sure to rest a lot.”

You take a moment, maybe longer than you should, to study his features up this close. You particularly fixate on the way his eyes dart everywhere but never land on yours. Then, with your signature toothy grin, you bow back and open the car door, leaving with a string of thank yous, and get home safe, and I’ll text you, and please, reply to me, and bye.

Jeongguk has to fight a smile of his own.

On the tenth day of December, you realise you want him. Even more badly than your fourteen-year-old self ever did. Which is frankly insane.

You don’t know if it was the natural way he looked after you during your episode, or his dry sarcasm as he actually started replying to your random updates throughout the day.

But no, it was definitely the selfie he sent you after what he said was a long day. Messy hair, tired eyes, a hint of a smile. You’d struggled to even gulp down your saliva when the picture popped up in your chat, and maniacally stared at it with eyes glued to the bright screen before sending one of your own. He had replied with Cute. followed by Your hair pin is cute.

That is why you find yourself facing… Yoongi? If you remember correctly. The guy at the front desk of Jeongguk’s studio.

You beam at him, and what you’re met with instead is a confused stare. You inhale, “Hi. Is Jeongguk in?”

Yoongi scratches his head, muttering, “He’s busy with a client.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” you wave off his concern. “Can I wait here?”

The boy hesitates, looks unsure the more your interaction develops, and he glances between you and the empty waiting area. He relents with furrowed brows, “Sure… Huh, It’s a back tattoo, so it’ll take him a while.”

You shrug and plop yourself onto the leather sofa, seemingly unfazed, “I like waiting.”

Crossing your legs, you take in the studio’s atmosphere, eyes drifting to the dark walls lined with framed artwork and certificates. You spot Jeongguk’s name on many of those.

For the next fifteen minutes, you try distracting yourself by flipping through the stack of tattoo magazines on the coffee table. You wince at inked heads, faces, butts, and even… more private parts. Deciding this world is definitely not for you, you slam the book shut.

By the time an hour passes, you’re fighting a battle with your lack of sleep. The third yawn you manage to stifle, but the fourth escapes before you can stop it. Yoongi, seated at the desk, doesn’t bother hiding his unimpressed stare. Still, he’s polite enough to offer you a glass of water, a coffee, or even a chance to join him for a cigarette break.

You decline all of it, though your throat does feel dry.

Maybe you should have planned this with a bit of rationality. Or at least gotten more sleep. Now, your every blink is slower, eyelids batting to shut and taking longer to flutter open again. Hm, this feels nice. You’ll just let them rest for a bit longer. And longer. And a bit more.

The next time you open your eyes, Jeongguk’s face is inches away, his warm hand resting firmly on your arm. You jolt upright with a startled yelp.

“Jeongguk.”

He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in an unmistakably mocking smirk. “Hey. You don’t have a bed?”

You sit up, forcing Jeongguk to step back and straighten to his full height. Your neck cranes upward to glare at him, brows furrowed in what you hope is an intimidating glare, though you sport a pout that is all but menacing, “Shut up.”

He clicks his tongue, turning back to round the desk and fiddle with the appointment book, clearly unbothered. You take the moment to rub your eyes—only to remember, too late, that you’d worn makeup. A quick glance around reveals how much has changed since you last let your eyelids flutter open. The lights in the studio are dim, the hallway is dark, and every door is shut. Yoongi is nowhere in sight. It’s just the two of you in the deathly quiet space.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your parted lips, “Did I fall asleep? I'm so sorry. I was probably really tired from yesterday.”

Jeongguk hums, focus still locked on the book in front of him, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t ask why you came here in the first place, and doesn’t acknowledge your apology. Ugh. This is humiliating.

Before you can stand, you feel something heavy draped over your body. It’s a jacket. Definitely not yours, since you never took it off. At least not consciously. No, this is a worn black leather one on which his scent lingers. You tug it closer, puzzled, and then look up at him, holding it out. “Did I steal this in my sleep?”

Jeongguk scrunches his nose, “Ew, are you a sleepwalker?” Locking the till, he strolls over to you and plucks the jacket from you, casually slipping it on. “No, I put it on you. Wanted to see how long someone could feel safe enough to pass out in my studio. Thinking of turning this place into a daycare. I’ll have you play in the morning, get some lunch, nap time...”

There’s a beat of silence in which his sarcasm lingers in the air, and you stare at him, unamused. He shrugs, smirk unwavering.

You huff, “I regret coming here.”

“Yeah, why did you come here?”

Smoothing down your pink wool sweater, you stand up to stretch with zero shame. Then, fluttering your lashes at him, you assert with a smile, “You’re coming with me to the Christmas markets. This Sunday.”

Jeongguk groans like the idea physically pains him, “Oh, I would fucking hate that.”

Ignoring him, you zip up your puffer jacket and rock on your toes, “Pick me up at seven, okay?”

He glares, unimpressed at your excitement, before heading toward the entrance and pulling a hefty set of keys from his pocket, “I don’t even remember where you live.”

You hurry after him, following him outside and shuffling closer in your coat at the cold air hitting you. Watching as he locks the door and pulls down the rolling shutter with its red-and-black skull graffiti, you chirp, “You’ll have to text me for that.”

Jeongguk rises up again, giving you a slow once-over. He seems distracted by your hair before snorting, “You’re talking like I’m the one who spent their afternoon napping in my studio just to drop this bomb and leave. Couldn’t you just text me this?”

You shrug innocently. He sighs, reaching out for you, “Do you need a ride hom—”

“Bye!”

You spin on your heel and skip off in the opposite direction before he can let his own greeting out, waving a gloved hand behind you. Jeongguk stays where he is, arm still held out.

Do you even have a car? He hopes so—it’s freezing out.

With another sigh, he shakes his head and tugs his jacket tighter around himself. Why are you so fucking weird?

On the fourteenth day of December, your arm is looped tightly through Jeongguk’s as you stroll through the Christmas markets, burying your face further in your scarf to shield against the icy air, and with each few step you gasp at things that the boy next to you finds utterly unimpressive.

You stop at nearly every stand, eyes glowing with the warm Christmas fairy lights strung all around, effortlessly picking up conversations with the vendors and melting even the most stoic faces with the scrunching of your nose at every grin and the exaggerated nods following descriptions of their crafts.

Through all of it, Jeongguk remains put at your side, his arm linked with yours and a subtle pout on his lips. When you tease him about it, he simply shrugs, and you figure it’s just his natural expression. You find that oddly endearing.

He still humors your enthusiasm, offering low hums or murmured praise whenever you exclaim you’ve finally found what you’ve been searching for everywhere, and he offers to pay every time, the gesture so casual that he doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

When you bow to the nth seller, clutching yet another bag of sweet treats tightly to your chest, Jeongguk exhales and resumes slow walking beside you, “I don't like these places.”

You glance up at him, fluffy hat almost slipping off before he promptly secures it back on your head with a gesture so smooth you hardly notice it. You instead wonder, “Then why are we here now?”

He slips his hand into his pocket, “Because you threatened me.”

“With a really good time.”

“If this is your version of a good time, you might as well kick me in the balls. That probably feels better.”

You gasp, halting in your tracks to glare at him. When he lets a small chuckle topple out of him, you think you might forgive him. No, you’re more than sure with the way his smile lingers. You sheepishly look away, muttering, “Don’t tempt me, emo boy.”

“I’m not—”

“Oh yes, you are,” you interrupt, snapping your face back to his. Clearing your throat, you prepare your best imitation of him, exaggerating a frown and lowering your voice, “I’m so different, I hate Christmas.”

Jeongguk scoffs, pulling you tighter to him when a scooter unexpectedly zips past you. You yelp, instinctively shuffling closer to his arm. He continues the conversation casually, unaffected, “That’s the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard. And also, I never said that.”

Releasing the breath you held for a moment too long, you uncertainly keep your slow stroll going, only narrowing your orbs at him, “It’s written all over your face.”

“I love Christmas.”

The admission is small, his voice soft and almost reluctant, like it pains him to reveal something so simple and obvious as loving Christmas. When you lean your chin on the puffed arm of his jacket, he doesn’t look down at you, his gaze fixed ahead, guiding the two of you through the chaos of the busy street.

You chirp, your steps stumbling, “Really?

Only then he shifts his attention to you, steadying you with his other arm wrapping around your figure in what seems like a hug, before he lifts you up by the neck of your coat and retreats just enough to face you. His lips press into a straight line as he nods, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes the more he stares in yours, “Yeah, really. I just don’t like… crowded spaces.”

You can’t help but think back to what happened just a week ago. The exact reason why the spirals in your brain wouldn’t stop twisting and tangling is now slipping from his lips in a voice that quietens as he seems to grasp the delicacy of his own confession.

He doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him. Drawn-up brows over wide and sparkling eyes—the only part of your face visible beneath your scarf—stare at him with something too tender, too focused, that makes him uneasy. He turns his head to the side, the tips of his ears red not only from the cold, and pulls you along toward another stand, an almost nervous distraction.

It’s your turn to frown. Maybe the one that’s permanently plastered on his face tonight isn’t just a reflection of his usual sullen demeanor. With a knot tightening in your chest, you can’t help but feel like you dragged him into something he truly hated, and that he wasn’t just pretending to.

What if this isn’t just your evil inner voice talking? What if this isn’t just overthinking, but the factual truth of your current reality? He’s hating every second of this but still enduring it because— you catch your breath with a long and strained inhale, because—

“Hey, dimples. You okay?”

Jeongguk moves to stand in front of you, his hands settling gently on your shoulders, a stance eerily reminiscent of that night you were just thinking back to. He nods at you, “Breathe with me, hm?”

You find yourself quickly adjusting to his comforting aura, drawn in by the reassurance in his eyes trained on you, never wavering, watching closely as you begin to mirror the measured rise and fall of his chest, your breathing gradually syncing with his until the tightness in your chest starts to ease.

When you feel your feet touching the ground again, you offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m okay. Sorry. Just…” You quickly scan your surroundings, eyes landing on a colorful stand, “Wait here a second, okay?”

Jeongguk lets you slip away, fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He takes a few hesitant steps closer, careful not to crowd you but unable to tear his eyes away from your next actions, how your grin comes back on your lips with unpracticed ease, lighting up your face as easy talk flows between you and the seller. A few coins trade hands, and soon you’re holding two churros, their chocolate-dipped ends threatening to drip onto the ground.

You don’t hesitate, biting into one of them before it has the chance to make a mess, and with a quick nod of your head you motion for Jeongguk to follow. He does so, only after taking the churros from your hands, and letting you seek his warmth again with an arm snaking under his. He’s only letting you do this because it’s fucking cold, no other reason.

You walk, and walk, guiding him along until you find a quieter corner, away from the bustle, where you two stand isolated from the rest. The dim lighting casts a softer glow, and the distant hum of chatter and music fades into a gentle background noise.

Glancing up at him, you flash a playful smile before leaning in to bite another chunk of the churro he’s holding, your laughter spilling out as he grimaces in exaggerated disgust and pulls the sweet out of your reach. You settle onto a nearby bench, patting the empty spot beside you invitingly.

Jeongguk is unsure of what this means. He takes slow steps towards you, handing you your churro—which you take eagerly, already chewing on it—before tilting his head back in mild confusion, “But… you wanted to visit the markets.”

You shake your head, your bug eyes meeting his as you speak around a mouthful of sugar and chocolate, “There’s no point if you’re not going to enjoy it.”

The look you’re giving him is one he’s seen countless times before—familiar, and annoyingly reminiscent of ten years ago. It’s the same look that, he’s convinced, is solely responsible for making his knees weak and his fingers jittery, no longer something he can blame on the cold. You’re unbelievably frustrating.

He clicks his tongue, looking away, “You’re fucking weird.”

You giggle, humming, “If weird is a synonym for whipped, then sure.”

He has to fight the twitch of his lips. Fakes a gag instead. You chuckle louder. Only then, he hints at a smile, “C’mon. Let’s go check out some other stuff.”

“But—”

He interrupts, pulling you up by your forearm, “I’m hungry.”

The next hour you spend wandering around is made of Jeongguk’s small, imperceptible ways of cracking: his pout less prominent, more replaced by lips pulled into a tight line or in a mildly pursued scowl as you ask him which beanie looks better—the pink or purple one; his so evident sarcasm as he comments on how the old vendor was totally flirting with you, or when he mockingly adds to your over-the-top excitement every time you spot a dog. All in all, he’s more relaxed. More himself.

You then find yourself standing in front of the churros stall from earlier, the warm scent tugging you closer. Without hesitation, you ask the lady behind the counter for another four churros—this time with extra sugar. You add two thank yous.

To fill the waiting, you pick up casual conversation with the woman, until she pauses mid-sentence, wrinkled hand coming to rest over her heart as her gaze flits between you and Jeongguk, her crinkled eyes lighting with a sudden fondness and a quiet, content smile finds its space on her chapped lips, “You two look perfect together.”

Jeongguk snorts, “Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you, auntie!” You chirp, and your grin is so wide it squeezes your eyes into crescents. You accept the first churro she hands over, biting into it and talking through it, “These are delicious. Is the recipe a secret or can you share it with me?”

The woman laughs, clearly flustered by your energy, and leans in with a conspiratorial expression, though she gives in pretty soon, “It is a secret, but… Oh, c’mon. A pretty lady like you deserves to know.”

You burst into chuckles, joined by auntie’s own rolling and carrying a contrasting warmth to the cold air. Jeongguk, for his part, stands slightly to the side, observing. You still cling to his arm, even as the vendor reaches over to gently smooth her fingers through your curls, complimenting the way they frame your face. You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation, but there’s a dimpled smile stretching on your cheeks that gives you away.

Before you leave, the lady points to Jeongguk, voice growing earnest, “You, handsome. I can see you’re a good guy, so you probably don’t need my advice. But treat her right, yes?”

Jeongguk stills for a second and stumbles over an awkward nod, managing to force a smile that has you stifling a laugh under your scarf. You tug him away with a cheerful wave to your new friend, promising her you’ll come visit again before Christmas.

Once you’re at a safe distance, he mutters, “Why did you not tell her that we’re not together?”

You tilt your head considering his question, “It’s not like she knows us. She looked like she adored you. I didn’t want to ruin that for her. Maybe seeing a young couple like us really means a lot to her.”

Jeongguk observes how the more you explain, the more you’re convincing yourself as much as him, eventually solidifying your reasoning as you nod, muttering some more under your breath. He scoffs, looking away to hide his lips twitching.

When he turns back he’s frowning, though it doesn’t quite match the way he lets you hook arms again, your pastel pink bag hanging from his shoulders. Still, he sulks as though the mere thought of your observation has him shivering, and not with the cold, “We’re not a couple.”

Jeongguk barely gets to let his unnecessarily petty comment out before you drag him with an unusual strength over to another stand, his voice not even touching your ears, “Oh, let’s go over there, Gguk!”

On the twenty-first day or December, you send him a picture of your tattoo.

You had been talking non-stop ever since your… date? Or was it just a hangout? Whatever it was, it’s been a week, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling at a fucking screen too many times a day for his linking. It’s irritating. Even brings his phone with him to the bathroom in case you text him. Not because he cares. No, it’s practical. What if you ever had an emergency and he was the only one who could help?

Most of the time it’s just you sending TikToks, but he clicks on the links with the same urgency he’d reply to a genuine plea for help. He doesn’t really want to think of the reason why.

Now, this picture—it catches Jeongguk off guard.

It doesn’t even look like it’s about the tattoo. Not really. It feels like an excuse, a flimsy pretext for you to show yourself to him. The tattoo—the one he himself inked—is there, yes. But it’s not at all the main focus of the photo that tightens his grip on his phone.

You’re wearing a thin, pink tank top with delicate lace trim, the straps barely clinging to your shoulders. Your fingers hook under the neckline, tugging it down just enough to expose the tattoo nestled between the soft curve of your breasts. The angle of the shot is deliberate, he can tell. Your back arches slightly off what he assumes is your bed, and your face is cropped out, save for your glossed lips, full and slightly parted, catching the dim light.

Jeongguk blinks, hard. Then again. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, the low light of his phone screen doing little to soften the image burning itself into his mind. His eyes dart upward, scanning his surroundings, just to make sure everything is in place. The shop is empty, the door is closed, the hum of quiet settles over the space.

Looking down, the picture still stares back at him paired with a single message.

Annoying [11:39 p.m.]: do you think it’s healed? idk about this stuff, need your help 🥺

He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what this is. He alternates between the photo and your words, jaw ticking and tightening more with the seconds flowing.

It’s almost cruel, the way you’re testing him like this. He tries to push the feeling down, to reject the buzz of heat pooling low in his stomach. You know him well enough to be aware that he won’t reply to something like this. A stupid, unnecessary message. The tattoo is healed—he told you that a week ago, clear as day. There’s no reason for you to ask again.

What’s the purpose of this?

He gets a distorted idea when he shifts uncomfortably in place, the dull ache tightening his pants almost unbearable now.

Jeongguk groans and locks his phone, tossing it onto the counter as if that will put an end to this. He tries to refocus on his tasks, the last ones before he clocks off. Cleaning needles, tossing used stencils.

But his heavy balls keep sending desperate, silent prayers to his brain, to please let them have this. Just this once.

It’s been a bad day. Two of his appointments canceled last minute, leaving him to sit around bored. The last client showed up drunk and wouldn’t stop trying to flirt with him. His coworkers were loud and distracting, and to top it all off, the heater broke, leaving the studio freezing cold.

It’s been such a bad day.

So, would there be any harm? It’s not like anyone will know. Not you, not his friends. He’s the only one that will. And he’s far more willing to live with this dirty secret rather than with his hard dick straining achingly in its confines.

Jeongguk abruptly snatches up his phone again, unlocking it to the same picture that caused him to brush the device aside just minutes ago. He lets out a shaky breath, thumb hovering over the screen. You won’t get no reply to him. But if you knew what he was up to right now, you would probably geek. Tease him, with your warm smile that digs dimples in your cheek, hopping on your toes to poke at his chest playfully, with those perfectly manicured hands of yours.

“Shit,” his free hand is already pushing the jeans down along with his boxers, and he drops his weight onto the nearest stool as he grips at the base of his thick cock, eyes devouring the image of you in the empty chat.

He doesn’t zoom in. That would feel too shameless. But he finds it oddly better like this. Is it weird that your text, so innocently worded, is turning him on? That the simple idea of you needing his help is enough to have his hips jerking?

What could you possibly need his help for? Fuck. The different ideas that pool his mind have him squeezing harder at his stinging tip.

Jeongguk focuses on your dainty hand, slim pointer finger snaking under the collar of your flimsy shirt to show yourself to him, and your small boobs spill from the sides with a delicious, soft swell. He hisses when he pictures that same hand working on him instead, his warm mouth stuffed with your stiff nipples, visible through the sheer material.

He can’t help the loud groan leaving his lips, wrist flickering up and down in a motion that feels sloppy way too soon, hips jutting up to fuck into his tight fist. Throwing his head back, he sees you even behind closed eyelids.

He pictures your delicate figure sprawled on his bed, long lashes batting up at him as you sheepishly hide with your cheek to your shoulder. Can clearly make out how you’d sit on his lap instead, unsteady breath fanning over his lips, using his long shaft to make yourself cum. The whole time, he sees the tattoo on your chest, the one that is forever on you, eternally a reminder of him.

When he lets his head topple forward again, his bright screen still stares at him, only because a new message pops up in the chat. He startles, and his cock throbs in his hand.

Annoying [11:52 p.m.]: oh, and i miss you.

“Oh, fuck,” the curse is strained through a loud whine, and only followed by more of his full moans filling the room. His brows knit as his hand moves rapidly, palm collecting the precum spreading embarrassingly fast on his tip and rolling it down his length.

He focuses on your parted lips, the soft curve of your breast, your hard nipples begging to be sucked and spit on. Your last text has flashes of your bug-like eyes staring up at him seizing his mind.

That’s what undoes him. He’s delirious as he lets out his every sound, freely, unchecked, not caring about how loud he is, whimpering as he gets closer to his climax. When he thinks of those eyes locking with his, kneeling before him, eager and willing to swallow his every drop, he cums. Hard.

Jeongguk pumps everything he can out of him, and it’s messy—spilling over his hand, staining his clothes, pooling on the floor. His chest heaves with the effort, and the sensation of abandon he feels is so pleasurable, energy drained but leaving him with a lightness that threatens to make his cock hard again.

Fuck. He can’t afford that happening if you’re not the one attending his needs. This won’t be enough, not until it’s you. He’s insatiable.

Jeongguk needs to hear your voice.

It’s an instinct, and he bends to it. He’s careful, making sure not to tap on the FaceTime option, because if you were to see him right now it’d be glaringly obvious.

When he looks to the side, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the long mirror, and he visibly grimaces at the way his cheeks are flushed, the pearls of sweat coating his forehead causing his bangs to stick uncomfortably to the skin.

Guilty doesn’t even begin to cover it.

With the phone to his ear beeping to eternity, he hesitates, contemplates ending the call before you can answer. But just then, you do.

“Jeongguk! Is everything okay?”

Your voice is familiarly soft, but there’s a trace of concern. Blinking, he brings the device closer again and gulps thickly when he can make out your panting breaths. He clears his throat and puts on his best nonchalant act, “Huh— Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know… You just never call. Or text first. This is weird. You sure you’re okay?”

Oh. Is that really what it is like?

Jeongguk never realized this was how he came across—so detached that a simple phone call feels out of character. Your naive honesty hits him square in the chest. God, he needs to get better at this. The irony stings: he just fucking jerked off to your picture and the simple thought of you, while you’re on the other side thinking he’s just a careless piece of shit who doesn’t even know how to call.

The long stretch of silence registers in his brain, and he coughs to buy time, “Yes, I’m sure. I— huh,” he thinks of stuff you usually ask to keep the conversation flowing. Not out of courtesy, but out of genuine interest, the curiosity that makes people want to open up. He’s still not used to that. Still finds it weird.

“How… How was your day?”

It must be equally weird for you because it takes you a longer beat to reply. In that quiet moment, he clenches his eyes shut and feels his jaw tick with shame. And embarrassment. And this icky feeling that makes him feel too mushy for his liking. Hell, what is he doing? He’s never been like this, he’s not supposed to be like this.

But you recover quickly, as you always do, and you smooth over the moment. Fix it all for him like you were born to be just that. Make him feel like he fits in ways that have him exhaling shakily.

Jeongguk senses a foreign drumming in his stomach, and it’s warm but odd, and he loves it but he doesn’t want to.

On the twenty-fifth day of December, cheekily under a mistletoe, Jeongguk realizes he wants you. There’s parts of him that probably knew way sooner. But the parts of him that didn’t, fighting tooth and nail to suppress the mere thought, are just now finally surrendering.

Jeongguk has always found you admirable, back in high school. You had this determination to you. Not only when it came to him. It shone particularly when you catered to others, always finding ways to help, to mend, to offer yourself with nothing less than a fully toothed smile.

But he’s also always thought you two were—and still are—too different to work. He can’t be what you want, let alone what you deserve: someone who can match your enthusiasm and unwavering smiles, your frustrating positivity; someone who sees the world the way you do. No black, no grey, no shades in between. Just bright, hopeful white. Blinding white.

It’s the white making him dizzy, shifting his perspective, having him believing the opposite of what he’s always known. Pushing to be a little more egoistical, deceiving himself that he’s right for you. Because he wants to be. He oh, so selfishly wants people to know he’s the one who finally gets to have you, the one gifted with such a light, unfairly deserving of all the love you carry into every room you walk into.

Just a few days ago, during another one of your increasingly frequent phone calls, you asked him what he was doing for Christmas. He could have lied, come up with something on the spot.

But with how you so easily, and always coax the truth out of him, he let it slip. He told you he’d be alone, words subtly heavy. But they didn’t have the chance to even drop their weight before you were already inviting him to your friend’s party, insisting that he would be the most welcome.

And he’s here, and he sits beside you, and every time you laugh you lean your weight over him, and the room vibrates with the energy you fill it with, and each one of your friends is so enamoured with you, and for reasons he can’t fully understand it fills him with a sense of pride that shouldn’t belong to him. But it does, and it comes with so many other feelings.

You don’t push him to talk. You never force him into the spotlight when he takes a step back, quietly observing, choosing to stay in the background. Because you read him like it’s in your nature to do so, your soul seems to intuitively melt with his, and it intertwines in such a tight knot that he feels it constrict his throat. He knows he’s still alive because his heart is beating, just a little faster with each time you flash your dimples at him.

“Dimples. What are you doing, hm?”

Now, he’s in front of you, a small smile on his lips as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to dangle the mistletoe over both your heads. You’re struggling just a little, your hand unable to reach high enough, and the fake plant awkwardly brushes his hair, the tickling sensation causing his nose to scrunch. You laugh.

Looking up at your swinging movements, you lose your balance for the slightest second. Jeongguk’s hands move instinctively, catching you promptly by the waist to steady your body. But even after that, he doesn’t shift, his warm palms stilling. And when you face him, he’s closer and his chest brushes against yours. From this proximity, he witnesses the Christmas lights painting a galaxy of their own in your orbs.

You beam, “What does it look like? We have to kiss now.”

Jeongguk stares in your expectant eyes, brows wiggling and all. The more his mouth keeps in a straight line, the more the wiggling slows. You eventually come down from your tiptoes, letting the mistletoe fall to the side, tilting your head.

He snorts, looking away briefly to hide an embarrassingly wide grin behind his hand. When he turns back to you, your pout is enough to have him scrambling to meet your gaze.

“On one condition, though.”

You chirp, “Yeah?”

He licks his teeth, reserving you with a smug look, “Admit that you were scared to get your tattoo.”

Your smile vanishes in an instant, your expression falling into mock offense. With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you turn on your heel, pretending to walk away from him. Pretending, only because you know he won’t let you. And you’re proven right when his fingers wrap around your arm, tugging you back with enough force to spin you into him. Suddenly, you’re pressed so close you can feel the heat radiating from him. Your chin nearly touches his chest as you glare up at him, narrowed eyes meeting the mischievous glint in his.

He bites a smile, lips twitching, “C’mon, princess. You wanted to act all tough and shit, but I could feel you shaking.”

Your scoff is loud and incredulous, “You’re such a bitch.”

He only shrugs, “You want my kiss, no?”

“Oh my god,” groaning, it’s your turn to face the side to hide a grin, “Are you always this cocky?”

His chin tilts upward slightly, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, “Say it.”

You whip back around to meet him with a seriousness he hardly ever sees on you, and you even clear your throat, channeling every ounce of the determination he knows you for, every drop of resolve that makes you you. “Yes. I was scared shitless, Jeongguk.”

Foreign excitement brims out of him, not before his eyes widen just a fraction, and his nose scrunches the more he leans closer to you, inches from you, swinging side to side with exaggerated mockery and a grin splitting his face, “See! I knew—hmph.”

There’s no other second to waste.

The condition has been met, and now all the requirements for you to claim what you were promised, your reward, are there. Even more when kissing him means catching him mid-taunt and silencing whatever teasing remark he had ready.

Your lips touch his in effortless ease, breaking the air as they press together. It’s tentative at first, almost uncertain as you feel Jeongguk remain still.

But it doesn’t take him longer to move, mouth molding against yours in a sickeningly sweet hug, tasting each other with quiet curiosity, taking your time to adjust and melt, instructing your bodies to imitate the dance.

Your arms lock around his neck, his stronger and tattooed ones circle your waist, and the way you click together feels so right, almost too perfect, so perfect it scares you. When you arch yourself further into him, even the non-existent space between you unbearable, he accompanies the motion with his wide palms gliding along your back, squeezing you into him, feeling the curve of your hips.

The soft whine that scratches your throat and vibrates against his lips betrays you, along with the useless effort to contain the intensity of what you’re feeling. The emotion disarms you, the sound gasping in your chest, but in Jeongguk’s arms it feels safe to let go.

On Christmas day, you crown a youthful fantasy, the kind you’ll look back to even when you’re older. Jeongguk feels like he’d be the right person to stand by you to do so.

When he reluctantly detaches from you, his face keeps at a safe distance that’d allow him to go back and taste you, not before resting his forehead on yours and whispering, “Merry Christmas.”

You giggle. “Merry Christmas, Gguk.”

[myownwholewildworld]

DARKEST DESIRES ― a Boston QZ!Joel oneshot

main masterlist | ao3 pairing: Boston QZ!Joel x f!reader. summary: you promised Joel something he's been thirsting after for a while ― your ass. so you decide to make good on said promise. a/n: am i sick? probably. undoubtedly, really. this is a sequel to A Dark Summon, but it can totally be read independently. this was prompted by this kind ask (love you, nonnie). also, do you remember that post about frankie morales saying "big stretch"? WELL, YEAH (sorry, meant to tag it but i lost it!). anyways, please heed the warnings! comments and reblogs appreciated to keep the thots thotting <3 take care! x warnings: 18+, mdni. sexual roleplay (cnc). mind the hefty age gap (reader is 19, joel is 56, oopsie). pet names (kiddo, daddy's girl, little girl, etc). sir/daddy kink. dom!joel, sub!reader (possibly some ddlg dynamics). slut shaming. unprotected piv. squirting. sleepy blowjob (consensual somno). breath play. sex toys (dildo, butt plug). mention of rimming. joel (the birthday boy) fucks your virginal ass, anal sex (faked painal). reader is a blank slate with no backstory, has hair. dual pov. no use of y/n. w/c: ~5.4k. divider by @\cafekitsune

You were so nervous, your hands were shaking with excitement.

Living in Boston’s QZ was not easy, and trading was even worse. Because you were young―just turned nineteen a couple of months ago―dealers tried to take advantage of you, asking for more than they would to other people. But you were smart and the moment you learnt that dropping Joel’s name in conversation would actually give you a discount, you used that tactic frequently.

Most people in Boston were too preoccupied with life to be gossiping about the age difference between Joel and you, but there were some that would scan you from head to toe several times with disdain. Some with jealousy, others with horror.

“She’s too young, could be his daughter.”

“He’s too old, bet he can’t keep up with her.”

“She’s too young, it’s indecent.”

“He’s too old, I’m sure that little girl can’t satisfy him like I would.”

“She’s too young, no wonder why she’s always cheating on him.”

“He’s too old, I don’t know what he’s seen in her.”

You had heard it all. And you couldn’t care less. Joel, on the other hand, was a bit more sensitive when people criticized you ― like a guard dog protecting its prey. The relationship between the two of you was private, except for the times that you would hook up with a random guy in an alley with Joel attentively spying on you from the shadows.

He liked to watch, and you liked being watched. In your eyes, it was a match made in heaven. It never went further than a hand job, and you never let them touch your pussy ― Joel was extremely possessive of her. He enjoyed the look on their stupid faces whenever you pulled away, leaving them dumbfounded in the brink of an orgasm, and you would run to him, all giddy and ready to finish him off right there and then.

It was lewd, obscene, but you loved it. And so did he. Joel had shown you a whole new world when he took your virginity almost a year ago. Since then, you had been insatiable, too eager to be fucked stupid by your old man. Your daddy.

Every day you would sneak out and come over to his place to be pumped full of his cum, to have him drill you until you forgot your name and your legs wouldn’t keep you upright. And then you would go back home, spent yet satisfied, with your pussy full to the brim and your panties drenched with your mixed arousal.

Today though you were planning on spending the night here. It was Joel’s birthday and you had planned a special surprise for him. One that had cost you, but the price was definitely worth it.

You knew how avid Joel was about fucking your ass ― he almost reminded you daily. He had been preparing you for when the time came, some mild anal play to get you going. Last night, as Joel ate your asshole out, you promised to yourself that you wouldn’t postpone it anymore and today would be the day. What better present for Joel than your virginal ass?

So here you were, all naked and squeaky clean for him. You had draped a red ribbon around your waist. A big, scarlet bow laid low on the small of your back, making it obvious what his gift was. You also had a smaller parcel, all wrapped up with some old newspapers.

The moment you heard the front door creak, your heart jolted with anticipation and your stomach flipped. Turning around to face away from him, you dropped to your knees and leaned forward until your forehead rested on the floor and your knees touched your chest ― your ass on full display for him.

“Kiddo?” he called.

Joel’s brows furrowed deeper when he didn’t hear a reply. He knew you were here, your recognisable scent betraying your presence. Confused, he walked the small hallway and entered the living room.

His eyes immediately fell to where you were positioned, and a rush of hot blood coursed through his veins like liquid fire, all the way down to his groin. You had knelt and bent over, your perky ass up in the air for him to admire. A red bow topped your ass cheeks, the meaning of all this becoming instantly clear.

With a sly grin, Joel rubbed his palms together, taking a step forward.

“You’ve not forgotten about my birthday, have you, sugar?” he croaked, raspy and hoarse.

“No, sir, I haven’t,” you murmured, wiggling your ass a bit for him.

Joel groaned, the tension in his pants growing tighter, while he knelt behind you. The offer was irresistible, the way your flesh jiggled commended him to smack both of your buttocks. You whimpered, your back arching some more and your crack pulling further apart.

His fingers twitched with need, grabbing a handful of your meat. Joel was mesmerised by the view ― your puckered entrance so very inviting, and your beautiful seam glistening with slick right below.

Unable to refrain himself, his index dipped in the warmth of your damp pussy, tracing it entirely until the pad caught on your beating clit. You sighed heavily, melting under his digit.

“Why are you all wet already? Have you been playing with yourself?” he questioned, voice laced with lustful anger.

“Yes, sorry, sir. I was thinking about you, about what is gonna happen tonight, and… mhmm…” you hiccupped when he flicked your clit, “I did finger myself, but I didn’t come, I promise.”

Joel’s chest rumbled, frustrated. His orders were clear ― no touching yourself, nothing at all, even if you were horny. He wanted you needy and ready to take his cock when he came home from a rough day of patrol.

“How many fingers?” he barked, pinching your hooded clit between his index and middle fingers. You wailed in mild pain, your hips bucking up and away from his touch, but Joel didn’t release your thudding button.

“Just the one. Just the pinky, I swear. I know you like my pussy tight and unstretched, sir,” your sob transformed into a moan when his thumb found your trapped clit.

��Attagirl,” Joel rasped. “I don’t want your cunt all used and loose, you’re too young to feel like an old hag around my cock.” His thumb pressed tight circles on your pebbled nub before he removed his hand from your pussy. “I will let it slide. This one time.”

The warning in his tone made you nod vehemently, as you looked over your shoulder to him. Your bottom lip was trembling, your doe eyes pleading.

“Do you forgive me, sir?”

Joel gave you a stern look before he slapped your ass cheek, and you winced in response.

“I’ll think about it, kiddo,” he already had, but wouldn’t tell you yet.

“What can I do to help you make up your mind, sir?” a single tear skidded through your cheek, bottom lip still quivering.

Joel loved how easy you would tear up, you were a natural when it came to acting.

“There’s this one thing I have in mind,” Joel muttered, his thumb ghosting your butthole. “So clean, sugar. Can’t fucking wait to dive in.”

“I washed myself really well for you, sir. I used an enema too,” you whispered, averting your eyes shyly.

“So no messy sex?” Joel almost sounded disappointed, but he was just toying with you.

“No, I couldn’t, sir,” you bit down your bottom lip, eyes shut and the apples of your face burning with shame, when the pad of his thumb gently pressed the tight ring in your crack. “Oh…”

“You like that, don’t you? All this time denying me my right to fuck your ass, and now look at ya, begging to have your butthole impaled. Did rimming your tight ass yesterday change your mind?”

You shook your head yes eagerly and pushed your hips backwards until your ass was resting on his lap, thumb still stroking you right where you needed. You rubbed your buttocks against his jeans, your weeping seam sliding on his zipper.

“I-I loved it. I’m s-so ready now, sir,” you stuttered, pouting when he stood up.

“You poor little thing. Let’s break this seal then, shall we? But I need you to work me hard first.”

Joel moved towards the couch, and you followed him, walking on all fours behind him as if you were his little doggy. Next time, he would get you a collar and a leash, he thought as he sat down, and the old cushion gave way under him.

He coaxed his legs apart to make room for you between his thighs. You didn’t need any further instructions: you were already unbuckling his belt, your tiny hand dipping in his underwear to release his flaccid cock. His dick was still soft, just started to harden a few minutes ago.

Leaning forward, you pulled back the skin on his shaft and kissed the reddened tip. Then your tongue twirled around his cockhead, slurping sloppily as you bobbed your head down his length. Joel felt his dick growing harder, bigger in your warm mouth, and he groaned with satisfaction.

You loved how Joel’s soft cock would slowly stiffen between your lips, how his weight would grow heavier on your tongue as you sucked him off. Although you played to be submissive to him, this was a reminder of the actual power you held over him. Not only a reminder to yourself, but also to him. Despite being fifty-six, you were able to work Joel hard in a couple of minutes with the brush of your tongue and the seal of your plump lips. You were proud of it.

“What’s all this?” Joel asked as he leaned over, his chest pushing your throat further down on his now throbbing cock.

Your partner grabbed the box you had wrapped from the coffee table, along with the ashtray and a cigar you almost had to sell your soul for.

“Your other present, sir,” you managed to mumble, mouth full of his hard erection.

Your saliva skidded down his veiny shaft, pooling on the thick, dark curls at the base of his cock.

“I didn’t say stop. Keep sucking, kiddo,” his reproach scolded you, and quickly resumed your job.

You heard him lighting the cigar and then tearing the newspaper apart, while you took in as many inches as you could. Now that you had felt a few cocks on the palm of your hand, Joel’s had no rival. He was so gifted, and you felt lucky you were the one getting it all for yourself.

He’d been training you to swallow him whole, and practice made perfect. So after a couple more dives, your lips reached the base as the underside of his cock dragged easily along your tongue.

Your eyes welled up due to the strain and you suppressed the gag reflex, the fluttering of your throat around his girth making Joel moan. His left hand landed on the back of your head, pushing you down.

“Your mouth was made for me, sugar,” he praised you and you revelled in his compliment, swaying your hips sideways.

He placed the box on your back and opened it. You couldn’t see him but knew his face expression would light up with a sinful smirk.

Joel cackled and smacked one of your round globes, careful of not messing up the cute bow.

“Oh, you dirty slut.”

Joel pulled you off his erection by tugging at your hair. By the way his brown eyes took you in, you had to be a pretty picture ― messy hair and makeup, swollen lips, your skin glistening from your nose down to your chin with his precum and your spit.

One of his hands was holding a small butt plug. It was made of black silicone, pointier and ridged. It had four inches of insertable length, and the diameter was one inch thick.

Joel let out a whistle.

“You traded for this?” you nodded, batting your eyelashes at him. “Good fucking girl.”

He leaned forward to kiss you, his lips demanding and fierce. Your tangled tongues fought with each other, but Joel always won, subduing you quickly.

Both his hands roamed your bare body, rough calloused palms caressing your cold skin, which bristled under his touch. Joel traced your underboob, then suddenly pinched both of your taut nipples and pulled.

You flinched, a thunder of pain radiating from your tits all the way down to your pussy. Wet, sticky heat pooled between your thighs, clit pulsing and hole clenching around nothing. How could pain turn you on so fucking much?

“Move your pretty ass to the bedroom, kiddo,” Joel commanded.

Springing to your feet, you obeyed, leading the way to his bed. The room was dark and bare, with no personal items anywhere to be seen. Joel kept to himself, sharing little snippets of his life when he felt like it. You never pushed for information, knowing that he would open up at his own pace.

Putting on your best innocent gaze, you turned around to face him once you were at the foot of the bed.

“Can we play rough… daddy, please?” the term slipped from your tongue accidentally.

You covered your mouth at the realisation ― you’d never called him daddy, not out loud. In your mind you had done so several times, but you were not able to gauge how Joel would react if you did.

You were about to find out.

Joel growled at you, one broad hand wrapping around your throat ― his fingers dug on the sides of your neck. Tilting your chin up, you gasped, your hips lurching forward until they pressed against his erect dick.

“Who’s your daddy, kiddo?” Joel groaned, grazing your chin with his teeth.

“Y-you, daddy,” you replied, slowly understanding that despite his aggressive reaction, he actually liked it. “Joel Miller is my daddy.”

“Damn right I am,” he snarled like an animal. He hovered the anal plug over your mouth, “Open.” Joel slotted it between your lips. “Suck on it, daddy’s girl needs her pacifier for what’s to come. Don’t want the neighbours coming over to check if I’ve killed someone.”

When he turned you around and pushed you towards the bed, you knew the game was on. Your shins hit the metal bedframe; with another push from Joel on your shoulders, you fell face first on the unkempt bed.

“No, daddy, please, no,” you began whimpering around the plug, squirming as he sank a knee into the mattress.

Joel grabbed both of your wrists with the span of one broad hand and pressed them onto the small of your back. He tilted forward, his weeping glans gliding on your sticky slit a few times. He tapped your clit four times with his cockhead, the last tap harsher than the others, and then he stabbed your clenching hole.

You writhed under him, audibly crying now, when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. You forced tears to fall down your cheeks and mouthed a scream around the butt plug in your mouth.

“It hurts!” you feigned a painful wail, when in reality your pussy was fluttering around his gifted circumference with delight.

Joel groaned above you, buried down to the hilt, and placed his free hand on the back of your head. Then he pushed your skull down into the mattress, almost smothering you as you tried to gasp for air.

“Shut up, you bitch. Take it,” his hips snapped back, cock almost sliding out of your cunt, and then forced his way into your pussy again.

Your old man picked up a relentless pace, the nasty, sucking sound of your wetness reverberating in the room as Joel fucked you stupid, drilling you into the bed like a man possessed.

Joel freed your wrists for his left thumb to find your empty rimmed hole. He started stroking it slowly again, and you squeezed your sphincter at the touch. Unhurriedly, he worked your butthole until your muscles relaxed, then took the opportunity to ploddingly insert the first phalange in your ass.

Seeing stars behind your eyes, your hips involuntarily jerked up, swallowing the second phalange of his thumb. When Joel began pumping your tight ass with his digit, your pussy palpitated around his cock.

“You like that, don’tcha? Nasty, stupid little girl,” Joel groaned, his thrusts unforgiving whilst his thick finger twirled inside you.

You hummed loudly around the butt plug, feeling lightheaded and dizzy due to the lack of oxygen, but also to the intense pleasure, one you had not felt before.

“Mhm-mm-mhmmm-mhmmmmm,” the crescendo in your mumbling plea peaked, your lungs now burning.

Then Joel released his purchase on your hair, and your neck snapped back as you mouthed for air. Your heartrate spiked, even feeling it in your gums. Joel’s unabating shoves along with his devilish thumb finally sent you over the edge and you jumped off the cliff of your pleasure blindly. Your throbbing pussy clamped around his cock like a vice, the wave of your climax drowning you as Joel fucked you through it.

With toes curling, eyes glassy and drool falling off the corners of your busy mouth, all your muscles went suddenly limp. Your spent cunt still quivered around Joel’s dick, who hadn’t stopped jackhammering into you with renewed vigour.

Hastily, Joel pulled back and out of the heat of your tight pussy, digging up his thumb in the process too. One more second and he would have spilt inside. While he was sure he could have another erection, even at fifty-six, he rather not risk it.

His rough hand wrapped around his cockhead, reining in the need to come.

“Fuck, you almost got me there, sugar,” he cackled, running his hand down his face.

You didn’t reply. You were sprawled across his bedsheets like a fuck toy, your thighs still trembling with the aftershock of your orgasm. Joel was sure that even without the butt plug in your mouth, you would not have been able to string two coherent words together.

His lustful eyes lingered on the red bow crowning the swell of your buttocks. He was dying to untie it, to unwrap his most precious present and make good use of it. But first he needed you ready.

“Gimme that,” he uncurled his hand in front of your mouth, and you spat out the butt plug.

Standing firm behind you, he teased your pursed hole with the silicone tip. You stirred at the touch but were so out of tune with your own body, you didn’t fight him. He twisted the plug around, circling in your orifice. Slowly it went in, and when it bottomed out, your eyes snapped open, and you grizzled.

“Stay put,” he ordered you, stepping back.

Joel admired how the handle stuck out, peeking between your round globes. With a huff, he stroked his length as he walked towards the nightstand. Opened the drawer and pulled out your favourite pink dildo. It was slim and slightly curved ― you loved how the tip always hit the right spot inside your pussy.

He retraced his steps back to the foot of the bed and slid the toy between your clammy flaps, wetting it with your juices. You squirmed at the cold touch but relaxed when you realised what it was.

“Gonna have both holes full to the fucking brim, babydoll,” he mocked you sneeringly, wedging the dildo in your crying pussy until it snugly sat inside. “She’s so greedy.”

“Daddy, please, I can’t. I’m hurting,” you pleaded, sobbed even.

“I don’t fucking care. I’ll fuck your ass through the pain. A gift is a gift, kiddo,” he mumbled darkly.

Joel followed along and would not stop unless you said, “you piece of shit.” That was the agreement, the safe words you would use if you really started feeling insufferable pain. So far, you hadn’t spoken the words, giving him free rein to do with you as he pleased.

Looking at you with your perky ass up with the satin bow on top, a dildo in your weeping cunt and the butt plug poking out of your asshole, he knew himself a lucky bastard. How you fully trusted him, giving in to his darkest desires and coming up with your own. The last year had been a revelation for both of you ― you matched his freak so well.

To hell with what people thought, you were everything he had been looking for.

Fisting the base of his thudding cock, he slowly removed the anal plug, the pop sound enticing. Joel watched your open hole squeezing again until it puckered in your fold. He was mesmerised imagining how your walls would feel around him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, biting down his bottom lip.

Hypnotised, Joel pushed the plug back in your butt, slowly and steadily, watching eagerly how your rimmed entrance swallowed the beads.

“No, daddy, it hurts. Please, take it out,” you begged him with a small, breathless voice.

“Shut the fuck up,” he warned you.

With one hand he pumped the dildo, dragging the pointy tip along your anterior wall to hit the spongy spot of your pleasure, and the other performed similar motions with the butt plug.

You mewled like a kitten, your passion ringing in his ears like he was high on drugs. Seeing you like this, all pliable and surrendered, had him on the brink of coming ― teetering on the edge, precum sliding down his shaft.

When you started humping the bedsheets, causing friction in your unattended clit, Joel knew you were close to another climax. Feeling considerate, he let you chase your own high, both of his hands working the sex toys in your holes.

“I― Good fucking lord, I’m… com… I’m coming, daddy. C-can I…?” you asked for his permission, his chest swelling at your request.

“Yeah, kiddo. Come for daddy,” he rasped, feeling drunk on your ecstasy.

You finally let go again, your whole body quivering like a leaf falling off a tree. He saw your inner labia squeezing the dildo and for a second Joel regretted it wasn’t his cock ― how good it would feel to have your fluttering pussy hug him tight.

But he had to persevere. The gift was worth it.

As your body still adjusted to the aftermath, Joel pulled out the butt plug carefully. The toy slid out easily, and he watched again how your hole stretched back to its normal size.

Throwing the plug to one side on the bed, Joel untied the red, satin bow on your lower back with steady fingers, taking in the moment. He felt like a mayor inaugurating a new building, presenting it to the press. This building was only his to dilapidate. The ribbon fell through his fingers.

Joel slipped one hand between your thighs, caressing around the dildo to gather some of your slick and gently buttering it into your rimmed opening. You said nothing ― eyes shut and mouth agape, it was almost as if you were peacefully sleeping.

He repeated the process a few times, but felt it wasn’t enough. Bending down, he spat in your ass until his mouth was dry. Then positioned his weeping cock right in the fold of your ass and pressed your buttocks together to hump your butt crack. Again, you didn’t react, your drool pooling on the bedsheets.

“What a fucking sight,” he said under his breath, the tip of his girthy dick finally hitching in your asshole.

Slowly he pushed the glans in, then back out, then back in, testing the waters. You squirmed a little, your brows furrowing innocently and your nose scrunching.

“Biiiiig stretch, kiddo,” he managed to groan between gritted teeth, jaw painfully clenched as his cock finally burrowed in your puckered entrance.

That was when your glassy eyes snapped open, and both your hands fisted the bedsheets.

“DADDY!” you screamed at the top of your lungs.

It was hot and tight inside, very soft too, sweat gathering on his brow in concentration. Your sphincter crushed his hard cock and Joel felt like losing control over his own actions.

Another piercing shriek from you brought him back, his hips slowly working your hole with his length. He was only halfway in, you still had a few inches to take.

“You pie― Ohhhh, ah, mhmm…” his hand was quick to find the pebbled nub in your slit, petting it gently, pressing tight circles.

The distraction worked, because soon enough his dick was fully sitting in your ass. Joel pulled back, then back in, guiding your movements by pressing his free hand on your belly, holding your waist up and moving you with him. His right ring and middle fingers stroked your pearly clit relentlessly ― you were melting again.

This was heaven. Fucking heaven, he thought. How the muscles in your ass contracted around him, making him feel woozy. How you keened. How he just knew your pussy was fluttering around your pink dildo. How your clit was extremely wet, his fingers almost slipping on your velvety skin, almost unable to catch on your button.

It wasn’t painful, it was extremely overwhelming. Your mind felt like a spongy cloud, completely blissed out. Your soul had literally left your body, that was how empty your brain was. You were so full ― the dildo cozily inside you, Joel’s girthy cock blasting your entrails without a pause. Having him fully seated in your asshole was the most euphoric experience you had ever lived ― your pulse adjusted to his, two hearts beating as one.

It was too much, but it could be even more. Slithering one hand between your body and the bed, you found the dildo. Slowly you rocked it in and out of your damp pussy ― when Joel pulled out, you pushed in.

Elated, little, pathetic sobs escaped your mouth ― real, blissful tears wetting your cheeks, whimpering as your puffy lips wolfed down the pink toy. Your clit felt on fucking fire, Joel’s fingers fondling it to a point where you thought you might actually die.

You were coming again ― Joel could fucking feel it in his bones. Only this time, you squirted all over him, the warm liquid running down his thighs like a cascade whilst your whole body quaked uncontrollably.

“Oh my! Daddy! DADDY!” you wailed as he fucked you through it, hips almost stuttering now. “I can feel you in my guts! OH, FUCKING HELL!”

That was fucking it. With a guttural groan, Joel finally came, thick, sticky ropes spilling in your ass, painting your walls white. For a minute, he kept on filling you with his cum, cock maddingly twitching inside you. He closed his eyes and heavily sighed, as if the biggest weight had been taken off his shoulders.

By the time he was done, Joel was heaving, his chest rising in quick succession. That had been the best sex he’d ever had, and he was no novice like you. God, even his legs were trembling with effort.

Joel smacked both your ass cheeks as you plummeted onto the bed, a stupid grin curling the corners of your sinful mouth. You rolled to your side to look at him ― a fucked-out expression, your eyes hazy, sweaty hair sticking to your face.

The way you lazily smiled at him made his heart skip a beat.

“That was… something else,” you whispered, half asleep, totally spent.

Joel couldn’t help but chortle.

“I told you, kiddo,” he said, manoeuvring you back onto your belly so he could watch his semen gushing out your ass. “Squeeze your butthole for me, babydoll. Get it all out.”

You obeyed, all his cum slowly trickling out until your ass was empty.

“Good girl,” he praised you.

He admired the view for a hot minute ― you were a dewy mess, tangled in his bedsheets, with the pink dildo still poking out your sweet pussy. So tight, he thought, your slick cunt wouldn’t release it even when he gently tugged at it. Joel didn’t have the heart to take such comfort away from you yet, so he left the dildo in.

Joel disappeared into the bathroom after that to shower quickly. Then grabbed some wet towels and went back to the bedroom, naked as you were, to find you soundly asleep in an odd position.

He cleaned you up ― first your sweaty face, then your upper body. Joel coaxed your legs apart and couldn’t resist the urge to bow down and press a sweet kiss to your clit, slowly extracting the dildo from your pussy.

You hummed in your sleep, jaw slack and snoring lightly.

“The best daddy’s girl one could ask for,” he purred before resuming the task of rubbing your cunt and your ass clean. Joel was extremely diligent with your hygiene and care.

There was a big puddle on his bedsheets, right where your pussy had been leaking all along. He’d deal with that in the morning, didn’t want to wake you up now ― you needed the rest.

Joel sauntered towards the living room, seizing the forgotten cigar and the ashtray. Then returned to bed, and dragged your body up the bed until your head was resting on his lap. You unconsciously nuzzled his soft dick, your hot breath fanning the thick curls at the base.

Joel raked his fingers through your hair as he took a puff, the cigar crackling.

“You’re gonna be the end of me, kiddo.”

In your sleep, you stirred ― your plump, cherry lips caressing his base. Joel’s head slacked back against the headboard as he smoked.

“Fuck,” he cursed himself, feeling his dick harden again.

You were giving him no option ― there was nothing worse than going to bed with a hard-on. Joel knew you wouldn’t want that for him.

His fingers left your scalp, took one more puff and placed the cigar down on the ashtray. Joel cupped your chin, tilting your head up and back, while his other hand guided the slick tip of his cock to your lips. The moment your mouth was in contact with his dick, instinctually you suckled on his pearly glans.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Joel gritted, voice gravelly. “That’s it, be a good little girl for daddy.”

Joel gently rocked his hips under you, only the tip disappearing between your sinful lips ― he didn’t want to wake you, not when you looked like an angel right now.

This was a recurrent dream of yours. Most nights, you found yourself drifting away and thinking about your old man’s beautiful dick. It was soothing when you latched onto his glans, just like you were doing right now ― unbeknownst to you.

In your dream, your tongue pressed against the slit on his throbbing cockhead while your lips would seal around it to suck on it. Then his underside would slide along your tongue, kissing your palate gently. Sometimes you would stop, glans sitting warmly in your mouth, and the hand resting on his thigh would find the soft balls underneath to massage them delicately. Then your tongue would resume its petting.

Heat peaked inside your mouth, and that made you scowled slightly. Smacking your lips together, sleepily, you realised that there was something warm and sticky pooling in your mouth.

Your eyes fluttered open, still drowsy, and found Joel’s darkened ones. Your head was resting on his lap, the palm of his hand caressing your cheek while his thumb stroked your chin. Sluggishly, you smiled at him, rubbing one eye with the back of your hand.

“Sorry to wake you,” he apologised before he took a drag of the cigar. “Swallow daddy’s gift, sugar.”

His words made you realise that what you had in your mouth was his cum. Your grin grew wider as the tasty seed of Joel slid down your throat. You liked it when he took what was his without asking.

“Attagirl. Now back to sleep, kiddo. It’s past your bedtime,” he commended you, and you nodded absentmindedly.

Nudging his dick and tucking your hands under his thigh, you pressed a soft kiss on his cockhead, then closed your eyes.

“Thank you,” you sighed contently, to both Joel and his dick.

[transformersxreader]

TFONE Yandere Sentinel Prime x Femme Reader

(Part One)

"You look exquisite my dear (Y/n)~"

(Y/n) couldn't move, she was terrified looking at her own reflection into the large mirror. Servos rested upon her shoulders, a large figure comes behind her moving to stand beside her. (Y/n) breath hitch when she felt a servo grab ahold of her chin making her look up to Sentinel prime.

"Smile dear, the public awaits~"

(Y/n) felt her helm shake slowly, looking back at herself in the mirror, joining the prime. They both slowly walk out to the balcony, where she was greeted with cheers and flashes of lights.

This was the moment Sentinel Prime announces his marriage engagement to the whole city of Iacon. The thought of their savior prime getting to marry somebot made all the cybertronians thrill and happy.

If only they knew.....

(Y/n) was force to smile and wave gracefully to the large crowd making sure to show everyone how "happy" she was. Sentinel prime had no problem waving to the crowd. (Y/n) felt a servo land on her hip, looking up she sees sentinel smiling down to her. (Y/n) was hesitant to slap that smile off his face, but she knew the consequences. How? How could she let this happen?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Flashback)

"(Y/n) a word."

(Y/n) lifted her surgical lopues glasses, looking up from her work to see Ratchet, she places the small tool to the side.

"How can I assist you sir?"

Ratchet walks up lifting up a datapad to (Y/n)

"Are you busy this afternoon?"

(Y/n) gave a good thought replying back to him,

"No sir. I believe I'm free, is there something happening?"

Ratchet smiles

"Would you be interested on joining me and a few other medics to speak with Sentinel prime?"

(Y/n) thought how amazing it would be to meet a prime and having a chance to speak with him. (Y/n) gave ratchet a nod of excitement grabbing the datapad.

Gathering with the other medics, ratchets leads them to an elevator, (Y/n) felt nervous more and more as the elevator went up hearing a small ding, the doors sliding open and there standing proudly was the Sentinel Prime.

"Greeting Ratchet and I see some fellow hard working medics!"

Sentinel walks up shaking ratchets hand, waking to each medic thanking them for their service. (Y/n) lets out a breath trying to calm herself. Once sentinel reaches the (F/c) femme, he pause for a moment, catching himself for freezing. Grabs ahold of (Y/n) servo shaking it slowly

"And who is this lovely medic?"

(Y/n) blushes and shakes his hand back,

"(Y-y/n). Sentinel prime sir."

Sentinel smiles and lifts (Y/n) hand to his lips kissing it lightly. Catching (Y/n) and the other medics/doctor by surprise,

Sentinel then lifts his arms up,

"I appreciate you hard working medics making sure all citizens of Iacon are in their best health! I celebrate you."

Ratchet and the other medics where grateful for his words, (Y/n) was still spaced out on what just happen not focusing on the conversation that when she felt a servo on her shoulder she sees ratchet giving her a small smile, looking back to the prime thanking him for speaking with them.

Just as they all gather into the elevator, (Y/n) looks up notice that the prime was staring right at her, (Y/n) smiles shyly waving goodbye.

Once the elevator doors closed the prime lets out a steam of breath looking back, he sees Airachnid coming out of the shadows.

"Follow (Y/n)."

\_______________________________/

"You ready to go Skyburn."

The bigger jet bot stood and stretched out his arms, moving his leg in steady motion."

(Y/n) gave a small cube to him, filling out a few things on the datapad.

"Now remember try not to use a lot of activity like jumping and running for a while, and you'll be as good to go."

Skyburn grabs the datapad and gives (Y/n) a firm nod leaving out the doors.

(Y/n) sighs another patient satisfied, she then took a moment looking down the hand that sentinel kissed, rubbing it still processing if that really did happened.

Also she has felt like someone was watching her, not close but from afar. She carefully gather her things heading out, she scans her card stating that she's no longer in the building.

"Uh.. finally, I can't wait to go home."

(Y/n) again felt the feeling of someone watching her, making sure to be aware of her surroundings but couldn't pin point it.

She made it to her home building as she was putting in her code, a large shadow figure covers her smaller one. She quickly looks back to see a large spider like femme.

(Y/n) couldn't let out a sound too afraid to speak out, the spider femme looks to her side revealing her other optics. She made sure to analyze (Y/n) and their surroundings.

"Are you (Y/n)?"

(Y/n) nods not wanting to get the bigger and scarier bot mad.

She lifts what looks like a hard drive or chip waiting for (Y/n) to grab it, which she slowly did. (Y/n) gave the femme bot a confused look.

"From Sentinel Prime. Play this when you are ready."

And with that she leaves, (Y/n) waits till she couldn't hear the clicks of her extra legs. She leans against the door sliding down hitting the floor letting out heavy breaths.

"What just happened?"

(Y/n) gave a long thought looking at the small drive, was this actually from sentinel? She places the drive in its slot, a hologram reveals at first glitching till it actually reveals the prime himself.

"Greeting (Y/n), if you are seeing this message I invite you to accompany me tomorrow evening. Please I insist."

And with that the message end, leaving (Y/n) there still processing what she saw. (Y/n) smiles covering her mouth with excitement so she doesn't make too much noise for her neighbors. (Y/n) needed to peppered herself, make sure she looked presentable for the prime.

The next day, (Y/n) was finishing up her work load, her feet wouldn't stop tapping from all the nervousness. Finally the evening came but just as she steps out of the medic wing she was greeted by the same spider femme.

"Oh! H-hello again um.."

"Airachnid. Follow me."

And with that she transforms into her vehicle mode catching (Y/n) by surprise, she quickly transforms to her jet form trying to catch up with Airachnid. Once landing what looks like the top of sentinel primes tower, (Y/n) mid transforms landing right beside Airachnid.

"(Y/n) you came! Glad to see you again!"

Sentinel voice echos out through the shiny room, Sentinel walks up to her, holding out his hand for (Y/n), which she grabs. This time he lower himself to kiss her servo.

"I'm so pleased that you were able to join me, please this way."

"Oh no sir, it's a pleasure to join you."

(Y/n) lets Sentinel lead her to an area that looked like a whole group of friends can hang with a nice furniture and table that had energon goodies, there for the rest of the time together they sat and talked about each other.

The more (Y/n) talk about herself the more the prime fell harder for her. (Y/n) then notice that it was getting late.

"Oh, I really should head home, don't wanna take up more of your time. I had an amazing time."

Sentinel gets up slowly walks up to (Y/n) grabbing her serves holding them together with his bigger ones.

"No worries my dear, and please I wish to see you again whenever you're free."

(Y/n) nods blushing, thanking him again. Transforming and heading home. Sentinel watches (Y/n) leave waving his hand goodbye till he could no longer see her form.

"Have you gather all her information?"

Airachnid comes out, smiling holding up a small drive.

Some time has passed, the more (Y/n) spend time with the prime the more she developed feeling for him. Same goes for the prime but his love was twisted, (Y/n) not knowing what she was getting herself into.

(Y/n) made it home after another date, With sentinel, she hums a little tune to herself getting ready for a good rest, slowly drifting off.

She felt heavy for a moment till a large flash of light blind her till her optics open, noticing she was staring into a vast of stars. She noticed more she was laying on the floor, lifting herself up.

"Uh hello? Hello?"

(Y/n) begins to walk in a direction but it seems she wasn't moving at all. Till a voice booms out,

"(Y/n)."

She turns letting out a surprise gasp, there stood Zeta Prime.

"What? Z-zeta prime?!"

The bigger bot knees down the be eye level with (Y/n) placing a hand on her shoulder.

"What's going on? Where am I? Oh no am I?.."

Zeta Prime shakes his head

"No. No, young (Y/n). You are in an astral projection. Between worlds."

(Y/n) gives Zeta a confused look

"If I'm here? Why?"

Zeta stands walking around (Y/n) making her turn to follow him.

"You are in grave danger (Y/n). All of cybertron and cybertronians are in danger."

"I-in danger from what? W-who?"

"Sentinel."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ll add some sketches tomorrow hopefully it’s getting late for me ✍️🥱💤

Holy moly! Thanks again for taking your time reading this, sorry again for taking some time off, personal matters that I had to deal with.

Funny thing is, I wrote this like three times with different story plot and chose this one, I'll probably post the others later.

But yes! Thanks for all your support 🥹☺️

Peace ✌️

[norrisainz33]

Besties || OP81

☆ summary: reader and her tv show bestie are big fans of f1 and just happen to be dating the two papaya teammates

☆ pairing: oscar piastri x famous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: chloe rose robertson & none

☆ requested: yes!! thank you so much for taking the time to request 🤍

☆ a/n: y/c/n = your characters name

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

vogue has made a post

liked by ynuser, maiareficco, formula1, yourbff, francisca.gomes, iamrebeccad, landonorris and 765,132 others

vogue: we had the chance to sit down with two of the hottest stars at the moment, y/n y/l/n and maia reficco. we talked about fame, their style icons, formula 1 and the new season of pretty little liars original sin! make sure to read the full article on our website!

view all 657 comments

user1: further proof that my theory is correct and that y/n is dating lando norris

user6: girl what???

user16: ain’t no way

user44: you might actually be on to something here user1

user2: insane crossover - had no idea my favorite show and favorite sport were connected

ynuser: thank you so much vogue!! this was a dream come true 🥹

vogue: thanks for stopping by!

user3: hot girls do watch f1 she’s so right

iamrebeccad: congrats ynuser - this is amazing!

ynuser: thank you rebecca 🤍

user1: taking note of rebecca being here mhm just noticing things

formula1: maiareficco ynuser you’re welcome at a race any time!

maiareficco: ynuser 👀

user4: what is f1 and why are all of the drivers gorgeous??? i’m suddenly obsessed

user7: oh user4 welcome , you’re in for a heck of a ride

ynuser has made a post

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, vogue, maiareficco, baileemadison, yourbff, and 745,234 others

ynuser: soaking up the last bits of summer 🤍

view all 346 comments

user4: are you gonna tell us soon when your new movie comes out or ????

user1: this could easily just be maia and y/n at the beach but also could be a soft launch

rudypankow: top tier beach content

maiareficco: who’s this diva 💜

oscarpiastri: 🤭

landonorris: 👀

maiareficco: 😫

ynuser: 🤨

user1: you guys are killing me

user4: user1 imma need you to break down ur theory bc ur always always at the scene of the crime

user1: ON OT

user23: love seeing you happy ms girl

user64: the way the newest episode had my jaw on the floor!!!

ynuser has posted a story

view all story replies

user1: taking note of the orange colored font 📝 could that be papaya?

yourbff: a smoke show if i’ve ever seen one

ynuser: thank you darling 💋

oscarpiastri: my god i’m so fcking lucky

ynuser: 🥹🥹 babbyyyyyy

oscarpiastri: that’s me 😍

ynuser: i love you so much oscar. i’m so glad i get to spend the next couple weeks with you 🤍

oscarpiastri: i love you more than anything gorgeous 🧡

maiareficco: you are stunning

ynuser: says you 😭

user7: hope they treat you right 😔

jackhughes: who’s the lucky person?

ynuser: a certain formula 1 driver 🥹

jackhughes: should’ve been a hockey player 😉

ynuser: HA jacky no

user9: i’m so jealous of whoever is getting to take you out

landonorris: osc couldn’t stop talking about how excited he is for this date

ynuser: stopppp he’s so cute 😭🫶🏻

user10: the one time i’m hoping the paparazzi get pics bc i wanna know who the heck this person is

ynuser has posted a story

view all story replies

user34: MONACO?! what are you and maia doing in monaco

user1: both papayas live in monaco ☝🏻

alexandrasaintmleux: was sooo lovely meeting you today 🤍

ynuser: omg it was such a pleasure!! thanks to you and charles for having us out on the boat 🫶🏻

mclarenf1: you’re come to a gp when?

ynuser: you tell me admin

mclarenf1: you known if it was up to me you’d already have been to one

oscarpiastri: noticing how nice white looks on you 🤭

ynuser: oscar you can’t just say things like that 🤨

oscarpiastri: oops 🤷🏻‍♂️

yourbff: my invite must have been lost in the post

user12: about to go feral over how gorgeous you look

ynuser has made a post

liked by yourbff, maiareficco, formula1, zendaya, landonorris, oscarpiastri, iamrebeccad, and 876,234 others

ynuser: spoiled 😘

view all 655 comments

user4: you’re so beautiful

zendaya: stunning as always 😘

ynuser: thank you 🥹🫶🏻

user5: you deserve to be spoiled 😭

maiareficco: my best friend i love you 🤍

ynuser: i love you more mwah 💋

user8: mama there’s a man behind you

user1: y/n is that who i think it is?????

user16: the leg is giving more oscar than lando

user1: ughhh maybe??? both of them are in the likes but i swear she’s more of a lando girl and i think maia is with oscar

yourbff: ugh i can’t believe im losing my girl 😭

ynuser: shhh you’ll never lose me!!

user7: a soft launch?! at a time like this?!

user14: if it’s true lando is a lucky lucky man

user12: i promise i could treat you better just give me one chance

maiareficco has made a post

liked by ynuser, formula1, vogue, mtv, prettylittleliars, baileemadison, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 324,123 others

maiareficco: we’re both spoiled 😉🧡

[tagged: ynuser]

view all 321 comments

prettylittleliars: as our girls should be 🤍

user1: taking note 📝 of the orange heart used here maia… did a certain oscar piastri buy you those flowers?

ynuser: yes we are 🤭

maiareficco: might be the luckiest girls ever 🤍 [liked by oscarpiastri and landonorris]

user3: not lando and oscar both liking maia’s comment…. they’re not helping figure this out huh

user16: A DOUBLE SOFT LAUNCH???? my heart can’t take this

f1gossip: we have been summoned

yourbff: hehehe 🤭

user2: what do you know ?! spill the beans

user8: guys dw they’re in love with each other not men

oscarpiastri had made a post

liked by landonorris, ynuser, mclarenf1, maiareficco, formula1, yourbff and 765,245 others

oscarpiastri: feeling well rested and ready to go again in austin after a few weeks away with my princess 🤍

view all 999 comments

user2: i’m in utter shock

user4: someone check on user1

user1: thank you for summoning me. i am confused to say the least - i really thought y/n and lando were together

ynuser: you were close user1! ms maia is lando’s girl 😉

user1: WAHTTTTTTTTTT OH MY GOD LOSING MY MIND

landonorris: can confirm user1

user1: i think im hallucinating

maiareficco: my favorite favorite cutie pies

oscarpiastri: 🫶🏻

ynuser: you’re my favorite my maia

ynuser: had the time of my life with you 🤍

oscarpiastri: lets go on vacation again

ynuser: after brazil? 🤭

oscarpiastri: say no more

user6: do you hear me screaming

landonorris: my best friends are dating 🫶🏻

ynuser: and my best friends are also dating 😍

user7: will you ever iron your shirts king

user81: can’t wait to see you back on track oscar!!!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[bapeach]

KK's "twin"

This is my longest fic so far and I'm gonna be honest, it's not great. I lowkey hate it because the ending is very rushed and I don't love the overall vibe, but I also didn't wanna just get rid of the whole thing. I promise I'll try to post a better fic soon! I'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes and as always I hope you enjoy. :) (Also, I'm sorry if the translated part is incorrect, my French isn't what it used to be 😅) Find my masterlist here :)

Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader  Word count: 7.1k+  Summary: When the team finally gets to meet KK's beloved cousin, Paige realizes that her type has changed. ------------

Today was the day. The day you’d finally visit KK at UConn, and she couldn’t be more excited. You were KK’s 2-year-older cousin, and honestly? She thought of you as her role model. Every time she saw you, she’d beg you to transfer to UConn so you two could hang out more. You never really paid any mind to it, though. You liked your own school, had great friends, and had a starting position on your basketball team. Of course, you missed the younger girl when you didn’t see each other for months at a time, her being your favorite cousin and all, but it wasn’t enough for you to enter the transfer portal. 

KK looked as if she was about to combust, unable to sit still in her excitement. “You guys are gonna love her so much! She’s so funny. I mean, not as funny as I am, but still! She’s like my twin, for real,” KK gushed to her team as they all sat in the locker room getting ready for practice. She ignored the looks the girls gave each other, continuing to sing your praises, too enthusiastic to let them bring her mood down. 

It’s not like the team wasn’t looking forward to meeting you. Not at all! It’s just that they’d had to listen to KK’s excited rambling for days now, and it was getting a little old. Hell, they hadn’t even met you and they already knew your favorite foods, the movies you liked, the inside jokes you two had and even the name of your first pet! So, yeah, the girls were getting a little tired of the young guard’s constant yapping. They were also a bit nervous. They loved KK to bits, but they weren’t sure they’d be able to handle two of her. 

KK was no doubt the life of the party, always hyping people up and bringing smiles to everyone’s faces. Some people said she reminded them of a puppy with her endless energy and youthful joy. This was often a good thing, seeing as there was never a boring moment when she was around. The older teammates did, however, have to rein her in a bit when things got too chaotic and loud. So, yeah, the fact that there would be two of her, both constantly egging each other on, was a bit scary.

As the girls make their way to the court, KK continues talking about all the things you guys would do when you got here and how she was going to convince you to transfer. “It’s gonna work this time!” she swore. Seeing coach Geno already there waiting for them, the basketball players step up their pace, trying not to piss off the older man (Okay, and maybe to get away from KK, though they’d never admit that to the girl).

Once they’re all huddled around the coach, listening to today’s plans, Paige looks over at Nika across from her. The blonde raises her eyebrows, widening her eyes as she huffs a little, as if to say, “Finally, she’s quiet,” making Nika grin. Azzi, having seen the whole interaction, gives Paige a push and shakes her head with an eye roll and a smile. The blue-eyed guard simply sends her a playful wink, letting her know she’s just kidding. As the team scatters to start their drills, Paige walks over to KK, slinging an arm around her. While she’d rather not hear about how good of a basketball player you are or how well you pull off pranks, again, she knows it’ll make her friend happy.

Having been split up into groups, KK, Paige, Azzi, Nika, and Aaliyah walk over to one side of the gym for their exercises. “So, at what time is this legendary Y/N even coming?” the Croatian girl asks. “Uhh, she said she’d probably get here a little after practice ends,” KK replies with a beaming smile. “You guys will join us for lunch, right?” she asks, looking up at Paige with wide, hopeful eyes. The blonde catches the ball Aaliyah throws at her, bouncing it on the floor a few times as she looks at the teammates. Seeing them all nod with a shrug, she smiles at the freshman, “Sure thing, KK.”.

While you had originally planned on arriving a little after practice, letting KK shower and get ready in peace, you’d changed your plans. Your coach, an old friend of Geno’s, had let UConn’s coach know you’d be touring the university. The older man had given you a call, letting you know you could stop by practice if you wanted to “see how they do it in Connecticut”. You’d agreed, letting him know you appreciated the invitation. You had to admit, you were excited. You’d get to see your best friend in action, meet her beloved team, and scout the competition a little. 

Arriving at Gampel Pavilion, you eagerly make your way inside. You open the big double doors to the court, making sure not to slam them so as to not disturb the players. You immediately walk over to coach Auriemma, shaking his hand and telling him it’s an honor to meet him. While you loved your own coach dearly and were thankful for everything she’d done for you, part of you wishes you’d committed to UConn to learn from the Geno Auriemma. 

As you two talk about your basketball experiences, you hear a loud yell. “TWINNNN!” KK screams, sprinting over to you. You barely have enough time to turn around to catch the younger girl as she flings herself at you. You stumble back a bit before catching your footing and gripping her tightly. “Hey there, Kiddo,” you chuckle at her glee and the way she’s clinging onto you. When she finally lets you go, you take a step back, crossing your arms with a tiny smirk on your face. Her team had walked over after hearing the commotion, wanting to finally meet the amazing Y/N.

When KK had called you her twin and a slightly less cool version of herself, the athletes had not expected this. Paige gulped nervously, giving you a once-over. You stood next to KK, towering over her as you matched Jana’s height, standing at 6’5”. You were wearing a navy shirt with black Nike sweats and matching sneakers, a dog tag necklace glinting on your chest. Your arms were covered with patchwork tattoos while a nose piercing twinkled under the bright gym lights. Paige had seen you were wearing a few chunky rings when you were hugging KK, one of which looked like a snake coiling around your finger. 

Your dark eyes roam over the team, making some of the younger girls shift their weight a little, feeling slightly intimidated by your intense vibe. If you didn’t look so scary, the team would’ve laughed at the stark difference between you and KK. While the shorter girl gave off golden retriever vibes, you were like a black cat. Your sharp jaw and big muscles made sure people didn’t mess with you, and the smirk on your face made you look like you knew everyone’s secrets. You looked fearless. 

While Paige was always pretty confident and never really got nervous around anyone, she felt her throat go dry as her hands became clammy the longer she looked at you. “Hey, I’m Y/N,” you said, your voice low and steady. Paige felt a wave of emotion wash over her, but she couldn’t figure out which one. 

You see the girl you recognize as Nika open her mouth to introduce herself. Before she gets the chance to, KK starts introducing everyone, adding her usual sass. Though you were already familiar with everyone, your cousin having shown you plenty of pictures of everyone, all with funny stories attached to them, you give her your full attention with a soft grin.

“..., and that’s Azzi, she’s coach’s favorite,” she playfully frowns before finishing the introductions, “And that over there is P Boogers, she always bullies me.” You look over as KK points at each girl, hearing Paige scoff at the freshman’s description of herself. You look the blonde up and down, raising an eyebrow in amusement as she catches your eye, a blush creeping up her face. “Cute,” you think to yourself. 

“Nice to meet you guys! KK has told me all about you,” you say with a grin, slinging your arm over KK’s shoulder as you rub her head in a teasing way. You hear the girls laugh as your cousin pushes you away with a huff. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be here until after practice?” she questions, fixing her hair. “What? And miss seeing you in action?” you smirk. 

“Alright ladies, this is all very sweet, but we’ve still got 30 minutes of practice left, so let’s keep going! You need to warm up, kid, or are you good to go?” coach Geno calls out, turning to you towards the end of his sentence. “I’m ready, sir,” you grin. He sends you a nod, bouncing a basketball your way. You catch it before letting it spin on your pointer finger. “Alright huskies, split up into teams for a scrimmage. I trust you’re all old enough to choose your own team without fighting!” the coach's voice booms loudly.

KK immediately jumps on your back, yelling, “Dibs!”, right into your ear. You wince, telling her to get off as you roll your eyes. You pretend you’re annoyed, but it’s clear that you’re just kidding, finding it endearing how much the younger girl clings to you. 

During the scrimmage, you impress the athletes around you with your near-perfect shots, great form, and high basketball IQ. “No wonder she’s a starter for her team,” the girl sporting a #5 jersey thinks to herself. While she usually never really struggles to lock in and focus on the game, she finds herself getting distracted by the way you move with power yet grace. 

After you finish your game, your team having won by 2 points, you get a few pats on the shoulder from the girls. “Not too shabby,” Nika teases with a smirk. “Yeah, KK could learn a thing or two from you,” Ice says with a mischievous grin, narrowly avoiding a slap aimed at her arm by the girl in question. “See what I mean? I’m always getting bullied for no reason,” the freshman complains with a frown. “It’s okay, Kiddo… I’m sure you’ll be as good as me one day,” you say, patting her shoulder before sending her a smirk as you finish your sentence. 

“Heyyyy! You guys are so rude,” she groans before stomping off to the locker room. You only chuckle, walking over to the sidelines where you’d left your bag. You bend down to grab your bottle, squeezing some water into your mouth. Once you feel refreshed, you close the lid, wiping away the drops that missed your mouth. 

As you look up, you see Paige staring at you, swallowing harshly before looking away once you make eye contact. You grin to yourself before lifting your bag over your shoulder and following the girls towards the locker room. As you pass by Paige, who tries her best but fails to avoid looking at you, you send her a wink. This is gonna be fun.

Once everyone is ready, you decide to split up into different cars to meet up at your nearest McDonald’s. Of course, KK sprints off towards your car before anyone else has time to decide who will drive. You just chuckle, crossing your arms as you look at the other girls to see who else will join you. “Nika, Paige, and I will also come with you if that’s okay?” Azzi smiles softly at you. “Fine by me,” you return the gesture. “Alright, cool,” Nika says. You all turn towards Paige when you don’t hear a reaction from her. 

It’s not like Paige wanted to ignore the conversation happening around her. She just couldn’t stop looking at the way your muscles were flexing as you crossed your arms. It’s not like she had a crush on you or anything! She was just… appreciating your physique! Yeah, that’s it! 

You smirk a little as Azzi nudges Paige. Heat creeps up the blonde’s face as she realizes everyone is looking at her, waiting for a reply. “Uh, yeah! Yeah, that’s cool,” she stutters, hoping that she replied the right thing to whatever they’d just asked her. You chuckle softly as you turn around and start walking toward where KK is impatiently waiting. “God, took you guys long enough! Let’s gooooo, I’m hungry,” she complains. 

Once everyone gets into the car, you plug in your phone and start playing your latest playlist. Making sure everyone is wearing their seatbelt, you shift the car into gear and start driving. You spend the next 15 minutes listening to KK’s chatting, smacking her hand away from your phone whenever she tries to change a song. Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you glance into your rearview mirror, once again making eye contact with Paige. You send her a soft smile, not wanting to embarrass her. She sends you a nervous smile before turning back to Nika, who was mumbling something about her psychology class.

When you arrive at the fast food joint, you all pile through the door, moving towards the nearest free tables. The conversation flows easily between you and the team, everyone becoming more at ease in your presence. While you were definitely a lot scarier than KK, you two did share some similar traits. Both of your smiles could light up a dark room, you had the same humor (though KK’s was a bit more immature), and you had the same mannerisms. The longer you all hung out, the more everyone realized that though you looked like you could easily knock them out, you were very kind. You always gave your full attention to everyone talking to you, never interrupting them. You made sure to include the quieter girls when you thought they might feel left out. You shared your food with the ball of energy next to you without a word, simply pushing your fries closer to her…

Paige couldn’t help feeling warmth spread through her chest. It’s just… it was sweet to see you treat one of her favorite people with so much love… “Yeah, that’s it,” the UConn star thought to herself. She simply appreciates you as a person and could see herself becoming really good friends with you!

Paige gets shaken out of her thoughts as she hears Azzi speak. “So Y/N, how come you didn’t commit to UConn?”. She turns to you, seeing you lean back a bit to cross your arms before replying. “Well, I actually almost enrolled here-” you start before getting interrupted by KK’s mumbling, “You should’ve”. You grin at her pouting before continuing, “It took me a while to choose a school. I had to pick between academics and athletics. While UConn is a really good uni for academics as well, my university just had a better program.”

Paige bites her lip as she watches you talk. It was so alluring. The way you were able to keep everyone’s attention with your low, raspy voice. “While I obviously love basketball, it felt less important to me than my studies. Besides, it’s not like my school’s basketball team sucks, they’re great! Maybe not UConn great, but we can hold our own,” you grin, hearing the girls around you chuckle. 

“You know, KK has talked about you nonstop for days, but we still don’t even know what your major is,” Aaliyah says. You shake your head in amusement at the young girl’s ability to say so much while simultaneously not really saying anything at all. “I’m an English major,” you say with a small smile. “Oooh, so you know all the big words? Fancy,” Nika says with a teasing smile on her face. “She does!” KK raves, “She can also speak like 10 languages!”. 

You roll your eyes at the exaggeration, but your smile grows with her enthusiasm. “Okay, chill, it’s not that many.” “You speak other languages? Which ones?” Nika asks, leaning forward with interest. “Well, obviously I speak English,” you grin as everyone chuckles. “But besides that, I can also speak French, Spanish, and a bit of German… Oh! And I’ve been learning a bit of sign language on the side, but I’m still looking for proper classes for that,” you explain. Looking around, you see everyone’s eyes widen as their mouths drop open. “Holy shit!” you hear someone mumble. 

“Yo, you should say something in French!” you hear Ice say. “Uh, sure, what do you want me to say?” you ask. You see the girls all look at each other, trying to find something you could say. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?” you hear Azzi’s soft voice beside you as she sends you a gentle smile. “Alright, let’s see,” you clear your throat. 

“Bonjour, je m'appelle Y/N ! J'ai vingt ans et j'étudie l'anglais. Mon hobby est le basket-ball, bien sûr, mais j'aime aussi lire. Je suis fille unique, mais j'ai quelques cousins dont je suis assez proche. Mon meilleur ami est KK. Uhhh, je n'ai pas de petite amie mais j'y travaille,” you say, looking at Paige for the last sentence with a mischievous grin. (“Hello, my name is Y/N! I'm twenty years old and I'm an English major. My hobby is basketball, of course, but I also like to read. I'm an only child, but I have a few cousins I'm quite close with. My best friend is KK. Uhhh, I don't have a girlfriend, but I'm working on that.”)

Paige flushes as she looks away. She’d been staring at you the whole time, chewing her lip. The blonde was completely enthralled by your French accent. Even speaking a different language, you spoke with full confidence, which sent another wave of emotion through her stomach. 

The girls around you look at you impressed. After explaining what you just said, skillfully leaving out the last part, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Before you’ve even fully disappeared from everyone’s view, Azzi knocks her elbow into Paige’s arm. Quickly looking away from your retreating figure, the blue-eyed girl looks at her best friend, letting her know she’s listening. “Hm?” she hums, pretending the brunette hadn’t caught her staring again.

“She’s so into you,” she replies in a hushed voice, making sure no one overheard her. “What?” Paige questions, her eyes wide. Her tone has a certain… desperation? No. Not desperation, because Paige doesn’t like you like that… she’s just uhh intrigued by you… Yeah, that sounds right…

“Mhmmm,” the team’s princess hums, “did you notice how she left out the last part of her translation?” “What?” Paige repeats, “Of course not, I can’t speak French… But you can!”. The blonde’s voice rises at the end of her sentence, gaining the attention of her team around her. She just grins at them sheepishly before asking Azzi to tell her what you’d said, her voice urgent.

The brunette shakes her head, chuckling in amusement at how smitten Paige already seemed, only having met you a few hours prior. “Calm down, lovergirl.” “Azz, come on! She’s gonna be back soon,” the enamored girl whines, acting like a little kid. Azzi rolls her eyes, leaning even closer to her best friend, “She said she’s not dating anyone… but she’s working on that…”. Paige frowns for a second. Not because she doesn’t like the idea of you dating anyone else! Just because she’s not sure what any of that has to do with her. “God, you’re so oblivious sometimes, P. Did you not see the way she was looking at you while she said that? The way she’s been looking at you this whole time actually?”

The star athlete doesn’t get the chance to reply, seeing as you’d already returned back to your seat. It was probably for the better though, sass clear on the blonde’s face. None of it mattered anyway. The blue-eyed girl is pretty sure you were looking at her the way you were looking at everyone. “And besides, even if she did like me, it’s not like I’d care… she’s not exactly my type,” the girl thought to herself. 

And you weren’t really. Paige had had her fair share of girlfriends and flings, all more on the… well… girly side. Girls that knew nothing about basketball, loved makeup, and were scared of breaking a nail. She’d never been with anyone taller than her. Someone that was more likely to carry her around on tiresome hiking dates. Paige wasn’t used to anyone being able to make her so flustered just by a simple look, always being the one to make other girls blush with a few well-aimed flirty grins. 

Azzi knew her best friend. She could read her like an open book even when she tried to be sneaky. Because let’s be honest, if there’s one thing Paige isn’t, it’s subtle. Whenever the blonde liked a girl, she’d stare at them, holding eye contact like her life depended on it and making them feel like they were the only people in the world. She’d flirt by annoying the hell out of them, knowing they couldn’t be mad at her when she’d send them her signature smirk. And so, because Azzi knows her so well, she could clearly tell that Paige was head over heels. It was cute to see the otherwise so confident girl flush red, stumble over her words, and zone out looking at you while still trying to deny her crush. 

“We should all hang out at Pazzi’s dorm!” KK says eagerly, “We can have a sleepover!”. Paige rolls her eyes at the ship name between her and her best friend. “‘Xcuse me? Do we not get any say in that?” she replies sassily. “Hmmm, no,” KK grins. “Whatever,” the blonde responds, faking her annoyance. She was actually pretty excited at the thought of spending more time with you. Of course, she didn’t let that show. She didn’t want Azzi to give her that knowing look of hers.

After finishing your meals and a lot more laughing, you all get up to go to Paige and Azzi’s dorm. As you’re walking towards your car, you let the girls go ahead of you, hanging back a little to keep talking to KK. You look up as you hear your cousin stop mid-sentence, a frown forming on her face. Paige, Azzi, and Nika had already reached your car, the blonde leaning against the passenger seat. “What? Nuh-uh, I get to sit in front!” KK speeds over with a scowl. “You snooze, you lose, Camera,” the blue-eyed girl smirks. “Y/N! Tell her to move,” your cousin demands, swiveling her head around and looking at you with a pout. You look between the two, both blue and brown eyes staring at you with hope. 

You shrug lightly with a smile, “Sorry kid, you should’ve called shotgun.” KK huffs as she stomps her foot, making her teammates laugh. “You’re supposed to be on my sideee,” she whines as you unlock the car and get in. You only chuckle, looking in your rearview mirror to see her pouting with her arms crossed. “Play nice, Kam,” you say with a warm smile. She replies by sticking her tongue out and looking away in annoyance. You can tell she’s not actually mad though, the corners of her mouth curling up against her will. You two could never stay mad at each other anyway, always apologizing within a few hours of an argument. 

As you’re driving and asking the directions from the blonde beside you, you can’t help stealing glances at her. She looked so peaceful, nodding along to the beat of the songs on the radio as she tapped her fingers against her thighs. You weren’t afraid to admit you were attracted to the well-known player, even before getting to know her. You’d seen quite a few of her games, even played against her one time (though she probably didn’t remember, you looked quite different back then, and your last name wasn’t that uncommon). You really admired the girl if you were being honest. 

On the court she was an amazing player, the stats proved that. And she didn't win all those prizes for nothing. You liked the way she never gave up. The way she led her team, even when they felt like all was lost. You also knew she had a really high basketball IQ, the way she seemed to be able to know what was gonna happen on the court before it had even happened.

Off the court she was a great person as well. You hadn't known her for that long, but KK had told you plenty of stories about all the funny moments she'd had with the blonde. During late-night facetimes, when the vibe had calmed down, KK would tell you all about how the #5 player had helped her. It didn’t matter if your cousin needed help with certain shots she struggled with or with her schoolwork, Paige was always there when she needed it. And anyone KK spoke of that highly? Well, they were immediately good in your book. 

When you guys are about halfway to campus, Paige's phone rings. Glancing over, you see the caller ID read Ice Spice. You could only assume it was the #25 player calling. You see the blonde scrunch her face together in confusion as she taps "Accept." "Wassup, Ice? You're on speaker," she says, holding the phone in between you two. "Hey, we were thinking of stopping at the store real quick to get some snacks. Whatchu guys want?" You hear Ice's voice crackle through the phone. You wait until everyone has answered before asking them to bring your favorite snack and drink. You also ask them to bring some other candy that you know KK really likes but always seems to forget about. As you look back, you see that the young girl has already long forgotten about the phone call, being too busy playing a game on her phone. You roll your eyes fondly.

When you get to the apartments, you park the car and walk towards the trunk. You hand everyone their bags, holding onto your own as well as your cousin's as you listen to her bicker with Paige. You hear Nika butt in every once in a while to tease both girls, her Croatian accent coming out a little. Walking up to the agreed-upon dorm, you fall back a little as you make quiet conversation with Azzi.

You really vibed with Azzi. She was calm and pretty quiet, but she didn't bite her tongue when she disagreed with something. You liked how mature she was but still managed to quip back with a witty comeback to make everyone laugh. 

You liked the whole team, really. The way they all acted like older sisters to KK. While being around the same age as her, you tell they felt a sense of protectiveness over your baby cousin. You saw as they all took turns making sure she was okay, keeping an eye out for her at all times. It warmed your heart.

When you all reach the dorm, you walk in, putting down your and KK’s bags somewhere near the door. “Y/N! Sit next to me!” KK hollers from where she’s seated on the couch. You chuckle in amusement as you walk over, plopping down next to her. You sling an arm around her and pull her a little closer. You feel the freshman relax against you as you both listen to Paige and Nika’s bickering. Azzi sits down next to you, giving you a gentle smile before turning to give her best friend a disapproving look as the girl says something out of pocket to Nika.

Sitting here, totally at ease, made you realize that in the few hours you’d known the girls, they’d made you feel completely at home in their little group. You continue to listen to the chattering around you, joining the conversation whenever you need to before hearing a loud banging on the door. “Oh my godddd”, you hear Paige groan as she gets up. Opening the door, she says, “Y’all needa fucking chillll, bro,” before letting the rest of the team in. 

Everyone finds a place to settle down before handing out the snacks and drinks. When you get your stuff handed to you, you give the candy to KK. She immediately shoots up from where she was lying against your side. You grin at her as she looks at you with wide eyes before flinging herself back down against you in a hug. 

“This is why you’re my favorite cousin!” she fake cries, making the team chuckle at her dramatics. You smile down at her as you pat her head before looking up when you hear someone say, “So… what’re we gonna do?”. Everyone looks at each other, shrugging a little. “Games and a movie?” Azzi suggests softly. 

Not being able to say no to the people’s princess, everyone agrees before splitting up into groups to play different games. Ice and Aaliyah immediately get up to go play Fortnite on Paige’s Xbox while some of the other girls run off to go play Roblox on Paige and Azzi’s laptops. 

You stay seated as Azzi walks over to the cupboard to grab a deck of Uno for you, KK, Paige, Nika, and herself. Before the brunette even gets the chance to take out the cards, the blonde turns to the Croatian girl to talk shit. “You ready to lose again, Mool?” she teases, completely butchering Nika’s last name. “I hope you play better than you talk shit, Boogers,” the Croatian quips back. You feel KK sit up properly as she grins, having regained her energy, “Less talking, more playing, losers. You guys are going downnn.”

15 minutes later you think you might pass out. 

Have you ever laughed this much before? Turns out Nika is notoriously bad at Uno, somehow always forgetting to yell the word when she has one card left. Apparently Paige is strangely good at pulling +2 cards while Azzi somehow always manages to have all of her cards be the same color. You were the only normal player, seeing as KK kept trying to (and somehow succeeding to?) cheat by looking at everyone’s cards and by putting down multiple cards when no one was looking. After a while, you decide to stop playing, seeing as Nika looks like she’s about to kill Paige if she gets another +2 card. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon laughing as you play games and tell stories. When it hits dinner time, you order a few pizzas. You all decide to play rock-paper-scissors to see who has to go get them. You’re glad to see the Croatian girl is better at that than Uno, seeing as you weren’t sure it would end well if she lost again. 

Once Ashlynn and Caroline leave, you all find a spot around the tv to watch some movies. You’re still seated on the couch next to KK and Azzi, with Nika and Paige sitting beside them.

“Alright, I think it’s my turn to choose a movie,” Paige says in a matter-of-fact way. “What? No way it’s already your turn again!” Ice protests. “Uhm? Yeah, it is? Aubrey picked last time, so it’s my turn again,” she frowns offendedly. “I swear to God if you make us watch that movie again,” Aaliyah grumbles from her spot on the floor. “Hey! Love & Basketball is a really good movie!” Paige raises her voice defensively, “Right, Azzi?”. 

“Yeah, sure, ask the one person who loves the movie as much as you do,” Nika grins. The blue-eyed girl looks around the room with a frown before settling her eyes on you. Her face softens. “What do you think of the movie, Y/N?”. Her eyes are wide and innocent looking, you think you can even see a sparkle of hope swimming around in them.

You raise your eyebrows slightly as everyone turns towards you expectantly. You clear your throat a little. “I, uhh, haven’t seen it yet,” you shrug slightly. Paige’s mouth drops open. “IT’S DECIDED, WE’RE WATCHING IT!” she yells, making the girls around her groan. You grin at the girl, glad to see she’s gotten more comfortable around you, showing her more playful side instead of the nervous side you’d been seeing (though she looked cute either way). “Okay, okay, calm down, P,” Azzi chuckles at her excitement. “We’re gonna watch multiple movies anyway, so why don’t we let Y/N pick the first movie and then watch yours after?”. You see the team nod their heads eagerly at the idea of not having to watch Paige’s movie just yet.

You look over at Paige, who playfully scratches her chin in thought. “Okay, fine… But only because I’m not in the mood for it yet,” she says. “Right… not in the mood for your favorite movie… or maybe you’re head over heels for Y/N, who will tell?” Azzi thinks with a small smile on her face. 

“So, Y/N/N, what’s it gonna be?” Nika asks with her signature teasing smirk. Once you tell them your favorite movie, you start chatting about school and basketball, waiting for the food to arrive. You see Paige get up out of the corner of your eye as she mumbles something about getting everything ready. Azzi nods, getting up as well to help the blonde with the plates and cups. Your eyes follow their retreating figures until they disappear into the kitchen area. You hoped you’d be able to talk to the blue-eyed girl alone before you had to leave again, wanting to see if you were right thinking she liked you back.

When Paige and Azzi get to the kitchen, they don’t speak at first, silently moving in sync as if they were two parts of a whole. Seeing as the blonde isn’t going to say anything, Azzi opens her mouth. “So… Are you gonna make a move?” 

Paige whips her head towards the brunette so fast you’d think she got whiplash. “What? What do you mean? Make a move on who? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she rambles as her cheeks flush red. Azzi grins at her friend’s nervousness before placing her hand softly on the girl’s arm. “Relax, P, it’s just us here.”. 

“I’m chill, I just don’t like Y/N like that,” she replies, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge so she has something to do with her hands. “If you don’t like her, then how did you know who I was talking about?” Azzi looks at her with a gentleness that makes Paige freeze.

“Oh my god… I like Y/N…” the blonde thinks as her eyes go wide. Seeing her reaction, her best friend pulls her into a hug. “Ask her out,” she whispers into the panicking girl’s ear. “No! No, I can’t! I mean, she probably doesn’t even like me back… And even if she did, she’s KK’s cousin… that’d be weird, right?” the wide-eyed girl rambles. The brunette doesn’t get the chance to reply as loud knocking is heard on the front door. Paige pulls away with a certain urgency as she speeds out of the kitchen to let the girls in. Azzi shakes her head with a sigh, “Let’s hope Y/N has more balls,” she mumbles to herself.

Walking to the living room with the paper plates and cups, Azzi sees Paige already sitting back in her spot, leaving an empty spot next to you for herself. “P, swap with me,” she says, standing in front of the blonde. Paige’s eyes widen as she asks, “Why?” “Cus I said so,” the brunette rolls her eyes, “I need to talk to Caroline.” Paige gulps as she scooches closer to you.

You send her a soft smile, being able to feel nerves radiate off of her in waves. It was cute seeing how much a nervous mess she was near you. You’d seen enough edits of her on your TikTok to know she was usually extremely confident. So seeing her like this? Completely flushed, avoiding eye contact, and even sometimes stuttering over her words, she looked adorable.

As you all start watching the movie, you feel KK lean against you as she finally starts mellowing out. You knew it was coming. You’d been around the younger girl enough to know she was very high energy throughout the whole day, but the second you two sat down, in the comfort of your safe space, she’d become quiet, finally being at ease. 

You all eat your food, watching your favorite movie, and you can’t help but wish you could stay like this forever. Once the end credits play, the girls around you praise your movie choice before playfully complaining about the fact that it was now turn for Paige’s movie. You all joke around a little more before you decide to finally watch the movie, not wanting to go to bed too late. As the first lines get spoken, the blonde loudly shushes everyone with a wide grin, leaning forward a little to fully enjoy the movie. 

While you’re sure Love & Basketball is a great movie, you don’t pay attention for a second. How could you? When Paige was sitting so close to you, subconsciously having leaned in a little. Her warm thigh pressed against yours as she mouths all the words. It makes your heart flutter.

Throughout the movie, some girls get up, mumbling about going to bed before disappearing with a wave and a sleepy smile. When the movie comes to an end, only a handful of people are left. You look around, making sure not to wake KK from where she has fallen asleep against you. “Did everyone fall asleep?” you ask with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, it looks like it,” Paige grins.

The blonde gets up, grabbing the cups and plates around her. You get up as well, making sure KK is still comfortable, before helping the blue-eyed girl bring the dishes away. You work in silence until you get to the kitchen. “You were right, you know?” you say with a grin. “Hm,” Paige hums, looking at you before breaking eye contact nervously. 

“You were right, it was a good movie,” you say, stepping a bit closer to her. “Yeah?” Paige asks with a grin, “Did you also love the part where they dyed their hair in the janky gas station?” “Yeah, that was a really good part,” you say, sliding even closer to her. Your heart flutters as you hear her laugh, slapping a hand in front of her mouth to not wake up the girls. “You didn’t watch the movie at all, did you?” she says, her eyes twinkling.

You send her a smirk, standing in front of her as she’s leaning against the counter. “You caught me,” you say, not even feeling embarrassed about it. She laughs, heat rising in her cheeks at your proximity, before asking, “What did you even do for the past 2 hours?” You shrug, leaning a little closer, “I guess I was just enjoying the view.” Paige flushes a bright red. 

She clears her throat and looks everywhere but at you. “Ahem, the uhhh, the girls like you a lot,” she stammers, picking at her nails. “Oh yeah?” you grin, “That’s nice… I like them too…” “Mhm… You know, when KK told us about you, we didn’t expect you to be like this at all. I mean, she called you her twin all the time, so we envisioned an exact copy of her. She always called you the less cool version of herself. We didn’t expect you to be so badass. I mean, like, your tattoos! They’re cool! Yeah, cool….,” the blonde rambles, her sentence trailing off as she cringes at how awkward she is.

Your eyes crinkle as your smile grows. “Paige…” you say softly, making her look up at you. “Relax,” you mumble, taking another step closer as you grab her hips. You give them a light squeeze before saying, “Listen, I like you. I’ve always admired you from afar, but now that I’ve spent a day with you, I’ve realized that I want to be more than just a friend… So, I would really like to take you on a date if you’d let me?”

You look down at her, slightly nervous about what she’ll reply. When you see her tense up, you soften your grip, getting ready to take a step away. You worry you misread the situation, but before you can step back, Paige relaxes as a bright smile makes its way onto her face. “Yeah, yeah, that’d be nice,” she grins. 

You smile widely. Paige’s eyes dart all over your face, properly taking you in. Her eyes linger on your lips for a second before they return to yours. You lean a little closer, testing the waters and giving her the chance to pull away. When she doesn’t, you lean in all the way, pressing a soft kiss against her lips as she closes her eyes. When you pull back, her body follows yours, not quite ready to end the kiss just yet. 

Opening her eyes, she looks at you with a grin, biting her lip in excitement. This all felt so new and exhilarating. Completely different from her past relationships but a good different. She felt like she could explode from the giddy feeling in her stomach. 

Leaning in to kiss you again, a loud gasp can be heard. You both pull away quickly as you turn around to see KK standing there with wide eyes, her mouth dropped open. You look at her with a worried look in your eyes. While you did really like Paige, you’d never date her if KK wasn’t okay with it. 

For a moment no one says anything. You open your mouth to apologize, to explain, to say something, anything! You don’t get the chance to however as the younger girl speaks first. “So… does that mean you’re finally transferring to UConn?” she says, her shocked expression turning into a smug smirk. You feel the tension leave your body and can’t help letting out a deep belly laugh. You pull her into a tight hug, looking back at a still frozen Paige. You grin at her, sending her a wink as she finally relaxes. This is gonna be really fun.

[teapartyprincess4two]

Parenthood- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Mom!reader x Dad!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of Y/n, established relationship, I didn’t name the children but Matt has a son and a daughter in this 👍🏻

summary: head cannons of dad!Matt.

Parenthood- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)

—

☆SFW

From the moment Matt met you, he knew he wanted you to be the mother of his children. Both of your children were received with so much love and joy, but Matt still had to learn how to navigate being a boy dad and a girl dad.

☆ Your firstborn is a boy and Matt can’t contain the excitement he feels when he first finds out.

☆ He’s overprotective of you throughout the entire pregnancy, ready to take care of your every need.

☆ Your son is hyper, rambunctious, curious and a force to be reckoned with. He barges into the room with so much energy balled up into his small figure that he’s bouncing off the walls.

☆ When your daughter is born, she’s the complete opposite of your son. She’s calm, quiet, and docile.

☆ It takes Matt some time to adjust to having a baby girl, but as soon as he gets in the groove of it he can’t remember what life was like before having a daughter.

☆ Matt’s playing soccer outside with your son, playing pirates, boxing, and building elaborate Lego sets with him.

☆ “No dad! We’re pirates! We have to steal all the gold!” your son explains, adjusting his make-shift eyepatch.

☆ “I thought we were ninjas?!” Matt’s out of breath, running after a fast toddler was extremely tiring.

☆ “No! We just beat the ninjas! They tried sneaking onto the ship, remember?” Your son’s imagination was too fast for Matt to keep up with.

☆ “Argh matey,” Matt replies, ready to continue with the game.

☆ But when your daughter wants attention he’s playing dress up, attending a tea party, getting his nails and makeup done, and talking to all her stuffed animals.

☆ “Daddy Miss Twinkle is mad at you for eating her cookies!” your daughter whispers, almost like she’s gossiping.

☆ Matt has lost track over which stuffed animal is which, but he’s assuming Miss Twinkle is the unicorn across from him.

☆ “I’m sorry Miss Twinkle,” he apologizes, shaking the toy’s hand.

☆ “Dad that was Lady Unicorn. Miss Twinkle is the teddy bear in the pink dress,” your daughter slaps her forehead. “Oops,” he laughs, taking a fake sip of tea.

☆ Matt has learned to be silly, fatherhood softening him and allowing him to abandon all embarrassment.

☆ “What are you wearing?” you laugh, Matt’s serious face adding to the comedy of the situation.

☆ He’s fully decked out in a pizza costume, trying to make your children laugh. “I’m a piece of pizza,” he replies goofily, putting on his best Italian accent.

☆ “You’re so silly daddy,” your son giggles. In his eyes, Matt is the funniest person on the planet.

☆ Your daughter is not as amused, but she smiles nonetheless.

☆ Matt loves doing domestic things with his little family. He’ll randomly pull out a baking sheet, all the ingredients to make cookies, and throw on an apron.

☆ “You’re doing so good, baby,” he coos, watching as your daughter throws an entire, uncracked egg into the mixing bowl. He wasn’t going to use that batch, but the words of encouragement have her smiling.

☆ Children fight all the time, especially when they’re siblings, and your kids are no exception. The year age gap doesn’t help either, so you’ll often find your kids bickering over the smallest things.

☆ “It’s not your turn to play, though!” your son attempts to reason, yanking the controller out of his sisters hands.

☆ “You played all day bozo!” she replies, sticking her tongue out at him.

☆ Matt hears the fight from his room, reluctantly getting up from his comfortable spot on his bed and walking over to where his children are.

☆ “What’s going on?” he asks, arms crossed and a displeased look etched on his face.

☆ “She’s being so annoying, dad!” your son exclaims, and before Matt knows it his kids are pushing, slapping, and punching each other.

☆ “HEY! BEHAVE!” Matt pulls them off of each other, scolding them both without favoritism. He goes on to lecture them about the importance of siblings and doesn’t leave until they hug and make up.

☆ Matt’s entire camera roll is filled with videos and pictures of his kids. Kindergarten ceremonies, family vacations, first haircuts, candid photos; all of it is being documented by Matt at all times.

☆ If he’s ever away from home for a long time, he’s scrolling through his gallery and reminiscing on all his memories with his babies.

☆ Your son is obsessed with video games, something that he and Matt bond over. And although your daughter isn’t as invested, she’s still really good at them.

☆ Mortal Kombat is a game they all play and enjoy together.

☆ “Move over and watch the queen play,” your daughter jokes, taking the controller from Matt after watching him lose time and time again to her brother.

☆ “Yeah, you wish you could beat me,” your son scoffs, readying up for another round.

☆ Your daughter chooses a girly character, which has your son rolling his eyes, but as soon as the round begins he can’t get a single hit in.

☆ Matt is in shock at her level of expertise, she was using combos he didn’t even know about.

☆ “Okay my turn against you, babygirl,” Matt takes the controller from his son, ready to play all night long if he has to.

☆ Having teenagers is hard and tiring, Matt feels like he ages 10 years in just one day with the amount of stress his kids cause him.

☆ Your daughter’s brain is suddenly occupied with nothing but boys and your son is starting to take girls on dates.

☆ “That skirt is too short,” you warn your daughter.

☆ “It is not,” she fights back, genuinely finding nothing wrong with her provocative outfit.

☆ Matt doesn’t have to say anything, one stern look has her trudging back upstairs to change.

☆ “Dad can I borrow the car?” your son asks nervously, avoiding Matt’s eyes at all costs.

☆ “For?” Matt’s not stupid, he knows what teenagers do.

☆ “Nothing, just hanging with some friends,” your son replies, but it doesn’t take long for Matt to get the truth out of him.

☆ Overall, fatherhood has been extremely rewarding for Matt. He sees it in the way his children love and look out for each other and what a great mom you are.

☆ “I love you guys so much,” Matt gushes, pulling the three of you in for a group hug.

☆ “Dad stop being weird,” your son groans, your daughter seconds his statement, but they don’t pull away from the hug.

☆NSFW

Having two children can take up a lot of personal time, especially when your daughter needs you and your son needs Matt. There’s never really any time for you and Matt to just exist as a couple, but he works hard to make sure you feel special everyday.

☆ You’re cooking lunch, the pure domesticity of your actions being enough to turn Matt on.

☆ The kids are still at school and if he’s convincing enough, you’ll abandon whatever’s on the stove and let him please you.

☆ Sneaky arms are wrapping around your waist, rocking you back and forth to the beat of the music that plays lowly in the background.

☆ Matt’s lips find your neck, your head falling back onto his shoulder in pleasure.

☆ Before you know it, you’re bent over the kitchen counter and Matt’s balls deep in you. “Take it,” he grunts, his hands gripping your waist so tight there were sure to be bruises.

☆ The food on the stove burns and you end up ordering pizza.

☆ When the kids are old enough, you and Matt leave them at home alone while you run errands.

☆ Something as simple as a quick trip to the grocery store turns into heated, passionate car sex.

☆ The windows are foggy and the car rocks with each thrust, Matt’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you ride him in the front seat.

☆ “You’re so fucking sexy,” he grunts, falling more in love with you as you whimper out his name. It doesn’t take long for him to finish, a string of curse words falling from his lips.

☆ Most times you two just do it in the shower. It’s sweet and full of so much love.

☆ He’ll fuck you against the cold tile wall before scrubbing your back and washing your hair you.

☆ It’s the sweet moments like this that both of you cherish. “I love you so much,” he whispers, the warm water running down both your faces. “I love you too,” you reply with a smile, going in for a passionate kiss.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: can I hear some commotion for dad Matt🎤

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[arminsumi]

🔞 𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐓𝐨-𝐁𝐞 𝐄𝐱-𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 | 𝟐

<- 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯.

𝟑.𝟔𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 / 𝟕 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : fem reader / Gojo Satoru / (Geto Suguru)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : your ex-boyfriend claims he isn't a playboy anymore, but is he being genuine? Another date with him leaves you a mess, and you end up asking his best friend out for coffee.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : angst, pining, drama, smut (cr**mpies, light degradation, name calling (sl*t and wh*re), c*nnilingus, bl*wjob in the backseat/risky), implied sexual relationship with Suguru

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞 : Heaven and Back | Often | Wine Pon You | New Rules

You walk out of your bedroom gussied up, lips painted in a very specific shade of red.

And Shoko, laid on the couch tiredly, gapes in disbelief at you.

"Oh my god." she groans, "Please don't tell me you're going on another date with that playboy."

You act dumb, nervously touching your neck as you style your hair in the mirror some more.

"What?"

"You're wearing the Gojo Satoru lipstick."

You continue acting, "This isn't the 'Gojo Satoru' lipstick, I love this lipstick! I always wear this shade!"

She looks at you, dumbfounded by your acting, nearly laughing.

"No, that's the Gojo Satoru lipstick. I can distinctly recall his words; "That's my baby's lipstick on me." and how you giggled on his shoulder."

"Shoko, that was five years ago." you say, "It's fine. I promised him only one more date. He needs closure."

"He's had five years of closure." Shoko replies, "Angel, you're too good for him."

"He's changed!" you insist.

"No, he hasn't; I saw that look in his eyes when I saw you two on the couch. He's still a playboy, and he'll prove it to you soon enough." she says.

"I have faith in him." you say.

"How many times have I heard that?" she shakes her head, getting ready to have a smoke. "You know, Gojo Satoru has always gotten what he wants. That's why he's so fascinated by the new you; you're not giving yourself to him like you did back then."

"I have faith in him!" you emphasize. "God, just tell me I look good."

"..."

"Please. I'm nervous. He's high-class, you know. I feel like I'm going on a date with the president of the world."

Shoko sighs and heads towards the balcony to smoke.

"You look too good." she says earnestly. "He was right about that shade of lipstick on you."

Her compliment makes you light up significantly.

You fuss as you wait. Since Shoko asks, you tell her; "He ordered for someone to chauffeur me."

"Oh my god." she groans, "He's really buttering you up."

"But isn't it such a gentleman move!"

"... more like a rich boy flex." she mutters under her breath, stubbing out the end of her cigarette.

"Okay. I've got to go. See you later... um, unless I overnight by him, of course." you giggle dreamily.

"Condoms." Shoko says simply.

"He's got some."

"Bring your own, always."

"But I'm on birth control, and we've already — " you begin.

Shoko cuts you off, "I know, but have you ever heard about the whole "creampies make you fall in love" thing?"

"What?" you look dumbly. "Isn't that a myth?"

"No. Coming inside is affectionate. You're going to feel connected to him and then he'll dip when you become "too serious" for him. Just keep him at bay."

You give her advice consideration, and nod. "Okay, alright. I won't let him do it inside."

*****

While being chauffeured, you rehearse in your head how to greet your ex-boyfriend — but it doesn't help, because as soon as you're actually in his presence again, your mind goes blank and you start nervously touching at your neck and giggling to cope with his charm.

From the moment Satoru takes your hand and leads you into the restaurant, you feel like a VIP. It's such a familiar feeling; in your early twenties, when you and him dated, he showed you what it meant to be really rich.

And he was excited to shower you in lavish treatment, he loved to see you decorated in his diamonds and to see your bright smile on foreign beaches.

The effect he has on you is even noticed by the waiter, who tends to your secluded table on the rooftop. You and Satoru feel like you're in your own bubble.

"I'm serious." he says honestly, looking into your eyes.

"... you break my heart, then disappear for five years, and then come back asking for marriage." you shake your head, "Doesn't that sound insane to you? Can't you understand why I'm rejecting you?"

"I've changed."

You hum skeptically.

"Really." he tilts his head, he flicks his brow giving his expression that sad little look that really sells it for you.

"If we got married, how long would it last?"

"What do you mean? We'd be wed 'till we're dead." he grins.

You shake your head and smile at him, poking at your plate. A long silence passes.

"... let me think about it."

"... okay." his spirits lift. "But don't make me wait too long; I'm impatient." he teases.

"Too bad. I'm gonna take my time." you sass, biting a piece of meat off your fork to make a statement.

He grins at you.

*****

Food all eaten, dessert long gone. The night air feels good. Not like old times, but new times with an old lover. He knows he messed up, right? So why hasn't he apologized yet? Maybe, you theorize to yourself to justify him, maybe he's still thinking up an apology.

He stares at you from across the table, eyes hungry like a starved wolf.

"You look so good tonight." he says for the third time.

You giggle in response, "Stop..."

"I swear that shade of lipstick looks familiar." he teases, leaning over the table.

You can smell his cologne, and it entrances your heart.

"... is it?" you ask softly, pretending like you don't know what he's talking about.

He knows you're pretending, he thinks it's cute.

"You think it would look good on me too?" he asks.

You shrug like a ditzy princess, "I dunno. Wanna find out...?"

He's so quick to call the waiter for the bill, like there's a pressing issue that needs his attention.

But the only pressing issue is his hard-on pressing hot against his thigh.

*****

Giving his cock all your attention in the backseat of the car, Satoru forces his moans down so that his poor chauffeur doesn't hear through the screen divider.

You stifle a slurping sound, sliding off the tip of his cock slowly, and it makes him shudder hard. He closes his eyes, like that helps any, and tries to keep from cumming in your mouth right there.

Gojo knows your lipstick stains are going all over his cock, it drives him crazy.

Before he cums, you pull off and he mutters a small "Just you wait..." under his breath that makes you smile wide.

****

Kissy marks lead up his abs. Of course, he wants to take a photo — to preserve the memory.

"Hand here, baby. Good girl." he instructs, and in his voice right then you can hear how mature he is now, in comparison to the squeakier voice he had when you two first met.

He's not a boy anymore, he's a man. But very far from being your man, which he's trying to change.

"Lay back." he murmurs. "Spread your legs. Wider. Good girl."

Without saying a thing about it, he noses in between your thighs and shows you heaven is real, and it exists on Gojo Satoru's tongue.

"Fuck!" you clamp your thighs around his head, making him hum while sliding his tongue inside.

When you two first dated, he wasn't inexperienced — but he didn't quite know how to eat a woman out.

Five years is a long time to practice, and he definitely did. You can feel his sloped nose nudging against your clit as he kisses and sucks, sometimes nibbling softly with his teeth at your puffy lips.

Making you cum on his tongue is almost too easy for Satoru, he nearly laughs as he pulls away and licks your slick off his lips. He thinks it's a pity that he's at the wrong angle to see your eyes rolling back. But at least he sees how you throw your head back for him, and how you sound for him — like a cat, he loves it.

"Nice and messy for me now, huh?" he hums, connecting his body with yours as he crawls upwards and devours your lips.

"Mhm!" you whine, still unsteady from your orgasm, breathing frantically. "Satoru, I need you in me right now."

"Aw, but I was gonna — "

"Nowww!" you beg.

He sighs, "Can't say no to that face."

You watch intently, licking your lips, as he whips his belt off and takes his cock out. It's red from the tip down to the middle, where that familiar thick vein always catches your attention.

By your request, even though it confuses him, he squeezes his cock into a condom.

"What do you need, baby?" he asks, lowering his cock onto your pussy and rubbing it between your slicked lips.

You squeal as he flicks at your clit, then pinches your folds around his cock, making you realize his size in comparison to little you.

"I need you."

"Need me how?"

"Satoru!" you hiss annoyedly.

"I don't want to have to tease you, baby just say it."

"I want your cock inside me."

"Not nearly slutty enough." he shakes his head, drawing his cock back and forth, rubbing over your soft pussy. "You said to me in the car that you were a total, fucking slut for me, didn't you say that? Or am I imagining things?"

You start babbling, "Yeah! I'm a slut for you, I want it so bad!" you whine, "C'mon fuck me stupid!"

"That's better." he grins.

Just like how he always does, he presses his tip inside you so politely but then pushes it in too deep, making you curl like you're about to cum.

Satoru's not one to go slow for long, he'd rather pound into you hard and fast right away, to bring out that slut in you as quick as he can. Because right now, you're not nearly slutty enough for him, as he said — and he needs to see that side of you.

"Baby, get loud for me, come on." he grunts, shoving himself as deep as he can, reaching the spot that you know isn't the G-spot or your cervix, but something in-between.

"Fuck!" you almost cry, "That's so good, fuck me harder please!"

He grins, cheeky fangs on display, and goes harder until you can hardly handle it. You don't care if it hurts just a little bit, because you want to know that every inch of your ex's cock is inside you. Not just eight, eight and a half — honestly, he doesn't know where you put all of that, but he delights in watching it disappear into your hole.

"Look at you." he purrs, "How deep are you trying to suck me?"

It feels like he's going to split you in two. Sweat pours out of the both of you, bodies getting slippery.

As Satoru continues pumping his cock back and forth, in and out of you, he starts furrowing his brows together in focus — playful edge dulling as it always does when it feels good good.

"That's it, you fucking take it." he grunts, "Good girl, you're a good little slut for me huh?"

"Yeahhh I'm a good little slut for you!"

"Let me take the condom off, baby."

You know you're gonna hear it from Shoko if she knows, but in the moment you're too drunk on sex to care, and even reach back to strip the condom off your ex's cock yourself as he watches with a smirk.

"Good girl. Now flip on your side, like this." he instructs.

He slides back inside slowly, filling you inch by inch with a low groan — like he's falling in love.

And the sounds he makes as his orgasm builds up make you want to cum again, too. Each time he hits that strange spot between your G-spot and cervix, your visions sparks a little.

Hard strokes tip you over, and you lay there letting Satoru degrade you and call you a filthy slut. You'd be his anything as long as it felt this good.

"I'm so close." he warns, trying to savor the buildup.

"Cum inside me." you mewl, "Please."

"Yeahhh I'm gonna — fuck. Take my cum, be a good girl."

The broken moan he lets out as he creampies you is almost obscene. Satoru slows his thrusts as he shoots everything he has into you.

His jaw slacks, and he groans, "... prettiest little slut, aren't you? So filthy and pretty."

"I'm gonna cum againnn..." you whine, reaching down to rub frantically on your sensitive clit.

He watches you through the haze of his post-orgasm, slowly grinding his cock inside to get you there.

"Good girl."

"C-call me a slut again, please."

He laughs naughtily, "Fucking slut. Come on, finish on me. Make that cute face again, 'cute lil' whore."

Satoru always surprises you during sex in some way, this time you're surprised when he caresses your cheek as you cum. You shake and spasm, feeling each shock of your orgasm.

Panting and coming down from your high, Satoru cracks a smile.

"You were so loud." he laughs.

Reality hits you, "Oh my god, I didn't know I liked being called a slut so much!" you cover your face embarrassedly.

He rings out with laughter.

*****

After sex. What happens after sex? He's a gentleman, and that makes you tear up — not because he's a gentleman, but because he never used to be quite like this.

No, he never used to be quite like this. Even kissing you afterwards? Why was it, you wonder, that back then he couldn't love you as deeply as now, when you needed it most?

"What's wrong?" he asks.

You try to stop your crying, but it gets worse.

"Satoru." you say, sniffling, eyes pointed downwards, "I know it's been five years, but I'm still hurt."

He doesn't reply. Just awkwardly wrings his hands and sits at the edge of the bed, soft duvet covering his lap.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't really help."

"Then what can I do?"

"I don't know." you sniffle, "Go back in time and love me. You know, I needed your love back then more than I do now." you admit to both him and yourself.

Satoru purses his lips, thinking before he speaks — but then he ends up not replying at all.

Instead, he goes to wipe your tears. Something he always did towards the end of your relationship, because you were always crying.

"I should go home."

He jolts a little. "Oh. I thought you were gonna stay the night?" he croaks. Inside, he's dreading sleeping alone again.

"No." you shake your head. "I've got to stop fooling myself. We're not getting back together, you're not more than a playboy, we're not getting married — and sex with you is better than with anyone else, but a relationship can't bank on that, Satoru."

"I'm being genuine. I told you earlier that I was."

"How can I trust you?" you ask.

"Playboys don't propose marriage." he replies.

"But you're just joking about that!"

"I'm not!" he stresses, "The last time you loved me, I was just a boy. I'm a man now and I know what I want." he says roughly.

You both go silent. Then he starts speaking again, voice softer than before.

"I love you more every time I see you."

You don't say anything back. He looks stricken and confused.

"I'm gonna go." you say.

He purses his lips tightly, looking frustrated that he can't get through to you.

"I'll take you home." he says quietly.

*****

Shoko is just digging around in the freezer for therapeutic ice cream when you come into the entry way.

"You look dreadful."

"Thanks."

"Bad date?"

"The worst..."

"Still love him?"

"... yeah."

"Marriage?"

"I'm in love, not stupid." you reply.

Shoko chuckles. "Come on. Let's catch up on that series. I'm not on-call." she cheers for herself. "We can binge the whole thing."

"Shoko, where would I be without you?" you sigh appreciatively, flopping on the couch next to her, mascara smudged off and all.

"Staying the night with a playboy, probably."

"Can't argue that." you sigh, "Shoko, I'm so dumb for him, what do I do?"

"Wait. Strike at the right moment."

"I'm not a cobra."

"Buy a cobra. Let it loose on him."

"Your humor is so dark, Shoko. I love you."

"Love you more."

*****

Meanwhile, Satoru is with Suguru; who is listening to his sulking best friend.

"I'm so dumb for her. What do I do?" he groans, "Shoko's probably poisoning her against me as we speak."

Suguru thinks deeply. "Shoko..."

"I know!" Satoru nearly starts crying again. He's being so dramatic, it's hard to take him seriously. But Satoru almost never cries. So Suguru seriously thinks about solutions to his problems.

"Shoko!" Suguru realizes.

"I knowww!"

"No, Satoru, Shoko!" Suguru emphasizes, like he's just made a breakthrough, "Shoko is the answer to all your problems!"

"Ew. I'd never date Shoko."

"You're so dense. I'm not suggesting that. Shoko's her best friend, and she listens to whatever she says, like you listen to me."

"You have a point... I'm listening."

"See?" Suguru chuckles, "Now, here's what I think you should do..."

*****

"You want me to talk to Suguru?" you shake your head. "How would that help?"

"He's his best friend. If you want to find out if Satoru's no-good, you go to the best friend."

"Suguru would rather die than expose Satoru. They're not like regular best friends, they're soulmate best friends." you say, nervously touching at your neck.

Shoko shakes her head. "Are you scared to talk to Suguru or something? What actually happened between you two back then? You never told me."

You go silent and wide-eyed. Shoko's jaw drops open.

"No way. Holy shit. Oh my god. You and him...?!"

"... it was just once."

"Holy shit! Was this before, after or during you and Satoru together?"

"I'm loyal as a dog! It was after... I was feeling, um, revengeful, and Suguru was feeling lonely one night... so..."

"Suguru actually did that?! Did Satoru find out?"

"We promised to never talk about it again. You know... Suguru was so nice about it. I remember he laid me down and said "Don't worry, just cum on my tongue" or something. Ugh, he was so hot. He fucked the life out of me — I could barely fucking see straight after."

"Too much information!" Shoko plugs her ears.

You look up at the ceiling dreamily. "He's thicker than Satoru."

"My best friend is a slut!" Shoko cries.

"I am!" you cry back dramatically.

The two of you burst out laughing wickedly.

"To sluts!" Shoko toasts with an ice cream spoon.

You toast with her, "To sluts! The sluttier the better!"

"Are you gonna talk to Suguru, then? Or are you scared of your inner slut coming out?" Shoko asks.

"I'll do it. It'll be fine. I'm sure Suguru doesn't look as good in real life as he does in photos..." you reply.

You exchange a look with her. Immediately, the two of you stalk Suguru's social medias and —

"Seriously? Who doesn't have a single social in this day and age?!" You curse, only finding photos of Suguru with Satoru.

"That's just like him."

"Maybe he has a Linkedin."

"You're desperate."

"Yeah!"

"Wait, here's something...?"

You investigate further.

"It's private?!"

Shoko bursts out laughing with ice cream melting on her tongue.

"Comedy!"

"This is seriously annoying. I'm gonna friend him." you say.

Shoko looks at you. You look at Shoko.

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"You're CRAZY."

"I am!"

"Let me watch, let me watch."

"Okay. I'm doing it."

*****

Satoru is mixing another over-sweetened, non-alcoholic cocktail to be sipped on as if he's drinking his sorrows away.

And Suguru? He's laying on the couch, ghosting social medias that he has no account with, happily enjoying a video of traditional cuisine when suddenly he sees the most outrageous, random, and bizarre notification from his mostly-dead private account.

He makes a suspicious side-eye, thinking it can't be real.

Friend request from @ 𝐘𝐍

@ 𝐘𝐍 wants to send you a message.

@ 𝐘𝐍 hey suguru 😊

"What the fuck." he whispers under his breath, blushing in a panicked kind of way.

Immediately, hot memories of you flood his mind. He sits more upright on the couch, glances nervously to check what Satoru was doing, then looks at your message again.

His heart races.

*****

"This is stupid. He's gonna leave me on read."

"Yeah. I forgot Suguru was notorious for that." Shoko sighs. "Operation: Suguru is a failure, then?"

"Yeah."

You set your phone down and continue binge watching a whole season of a trashy series on Netflix.

Your phone vibrates thirty minutes later. You check it without thinking, then scream so loud it startles Shoko right out of her zen-like Netflix mood.

"NO WAY."

"Is it him? What did he say?"

"He said 'hey'. He's online."

"Well say something!"

You panic, "What do I say?"

"Ask him for coffee! In a non-romantic way!"

"Okay."

wanna go for coffee sometime?

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 is this about satoru or us?

it's about satoru

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 riiight

i'm serious 😠

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 because i wouldn't mind if it's about us

"WHAT." you scream with Shoko.

"REPLY TO HIM."

"I DON'T KNOW HOW."

"GIVE ME YOUR PHONE."

Shoko clacks her nails against the screen viciously, replying to him as you watch her type.

"That doesn't sound like I wrote it."

"Well sorry for being grammatically correct."

"Make it sound sillier."

"There."

Shoko sends it. You watch and wait with bated breath, ignoring the climactic scene on the TV because Suguru Geto was far more attention-grabbing.

"Oh my god." you clap your hand over your mouth. "Is that sexual? Is he being sexual?"

"I have no idea, Suguru's an enigma."

"Do you think Satoru is sitting with him? Are they playing us?"

Shoko shrugs. "I don't know, but I'd read that message if I were you."

You look back to your phone.

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sooo coffee where and when?

"SHOKO WHAT DO I DO."

"I don't know."

"SHOKO."

"I DON'T KNOW. I'M STUNNED."

"ME TOO."

"I bet Satoru is cackling next to Suguru right now."

"I bet not. Listen to how sultry he is! That's three o's in there!"

Shoko thinks. "Yeah, but Suguru is always sultry. I think they're pulling a joke on us."

*****

Satoru is dozing off while his best friend texts you. Suguru's not resisting his smirk; it's plastered on his face.

@ 𝐘𝐍 tomorrow? 2pm sound ok? 🙈

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sounds perfect.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞.

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

—PART SIX

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fallen Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Warnings: none

Notes: sorry it took awhile^^" this is a long chapterr and Happy Valentine's day everyone<3

Word count: 2.5k

PART ONE | PART FIVE | PART SEVEN

It has been two days since [y/n] started living with Lucifer in the palace of hell that is located in the pride circle. It's awkward to say the least, it has been years since... Well, they spent time with each other.

Lucifer on the other hand is very overprotective over her, making sure she's alright even though she has already fully healed herself.

Both fallen angels spent most of their time just talking and catching up with one another. Lucifer shared to her what happened with his marriage and [y/n] sharing to him what happened to her in heaven when he was gone and she also told him about her time at the hotel with Charlie.

Currently the two are in the living room of the palace, Lucifer's head on [y/n]'s lap as she plays with his hair. Fingers weaving through silky blond locks, soft against her fingertips. Lucifer's eyes are closed as he enjoys the sensation of her fingers running through his hair and massaging his scalp. He misses this so much, it brought back a sense of deja vu to him. Reminding him of the past where he and [y/n] would just be lying down on the clouds, cloud gazing while she plays with his hair and his head on her lap. Lucifer wonders what his life would be if he chose to stay in heaven and didn't break any rules. Would he have been happy with [y/n]? Lucifer mentally asked himself, realizing the thought made his cheeks warmed up.

[Y/n] raises an eyebrow as she watches the man shake his head to himself, laughing quietly to herself.

“What's got you thinking? I just saw you physically disagree with whatever thought you just had.” [y/n] says with a small chuckle, looking down on him. Strands of her hair falling off from her ear where she tucked them, silk like [h/c] locks caressing Lucifer's cheeks. Lucifer looks up and sees her gazing at him, curiosity in her eyes, her hair framing her face perfectly. She looked absolutely divine. Wait a minute, since when did he start looking at his best friend through heart shaped pink colored glasses?!

The realization made his jaw drop, [y/n] getting more confused as she placed her fingers underneath his chin to close his mouth again.

“Now I am really curious what's going on inside that head of yours.” [y/n] mutters, her hand had stopped playing with his hair moments ago.

Lucifer shakes his head, “It is nothing, just... Hell stuff...” he says awkwardly with a laugh, his fingers pulling his collar as it suddenly felt too tight around his neck.

[Y/n] looked at him with her eyebrow still raised but eventually sighs, deciding not to push him to say whatever is bothering him. “Whatever you say, Lu.” she says softly and the comfortable silence falls between them once more. [Y/n] humming a tune while she plays with his hair once more while Lucifer was having an internal conflict.

“It has been awhile since I've last visited the hotel, how about we go and see how the others are?” [y/n] murmurs softly, Lucifer opens his eyes to look at her. His red eyes dilated as he gazed up at her, a soft look on his face. He grins at her, showing her that toothy smile that she loves.

“What a wonderful idea, we should visit them!” Lucifer grins, excited to see his daughter again. Although, not really thrilled in seeing the other sinners. Especially that radio demon. He knows that the bastard would try to pull something that will annoy him.

Lucifer sighs once more, [y/n] wondering what got him to change his mood again. At this point she got used to it.

Sitting up, leaving the comfort of her lap. He sat and faced her, seeing her hair falling into her face, he gently tucks it behind her ear.

The two stared at each other a few seconds before quickly avoiding each other's gazes. Cheeks heating up.

“... Right, we should visit them right now” Lucifer says, clearing his throat awkwardly and [y/n] turns to look at him once more.

“Like... Right now..?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and he nodded.

[Y/n] clears her throat, trying to calm her fast beating heart. She expected this, her buried feelings now unraveling like petals of a newly bloomed flower.

Awkward...

Lucifer coughs awkwardly, turning around to look at her, “If you're ready, we can go right now...?” he suggested and [y/n] looked at him, slightly in deep thought.

“Can you give me some time to prepare something? I want to bring something to them when we visit.” [y/n] says softly and Lucifer sighed but gave her a gentle toothy smile.

“Alright.”

[Y/n] decided to use Lucifer's kitchen, the king of hell watching her as he leans against the door frame, admiring her figure as she puts on an apron. [Y/n] approaches him, turning around for her back to face him. The ties of the apron are still not tied.

Lucifer smiled and his hand gently worked with the ties of the apron, tying it securely. “I missed eating your cookies, I remember you used to bake me duck shaped cookies.” he says, nostalgia evident in his voice.

[Y/n] chuckles softly, remembering the memories. “Indeed, you often helped me when I baked.” she says and he smiled, turning around as he too wore an apron, [y/n] tying the ties of the apron.

With a flick of his fingers, Lucifer summoned the ingredients they needed. [Y/n]'s eyes sparkled in awe as she sees the ingredients now on the counter.

The two fallen angels began working on the sweets they planned on making, moving around the pristine kitchen. Working together side by side. Lucifer was tasked with whisking the dry ingredients with the wet ingredients. [Y/n] behind him, looming over his smaller body, her hand on his waist while her other hand held his hand that was holding the whisk. Guiding him on how to whisk it.

‘Goodness, she's so close.’ Lucifer thought nervously. His ears felt unbelievably warm.

“Just like that, good.” she murmurs, against his ears. Oh god, he feels like he's about to pass out.

Suddenly he's very hyper aware. He could feel the softness of her skin against his, her hair occasionally caressing his neck as she leans on his shoulder. The hand on his waist, the hand on his waist, the hand on hIS WAIST. Suddenly he could feel how hot his body was, his heart beating so erratically against his ribcage.

“Lu? Are you okay? You seem spaced out...” [y/n] says worriedly as she noticed the man seemed to freeze while whisking.

[Y/n]'s facial expression softens, admiring the man in front of her. He still looked beautiful as the day she lost him.

Removing her hand from his wrist, that hand gently cupped his cheek. Breaking him out of his thoughts, jumping slightly.

“Jesus... You surprised me.” He sighs, placing a hand over his chest to calm his fast beating heart. The golden organ beating against his ribcage.

[Y/n]'s eyes soften, “You spaced out for a second, I got worried.” she says softly, brushing away the strands of blond hair away from his face that was beginning to fall into his face.

“Are you okay?” she asked him worriedly and he gave her a gentle smile, nodding.

“I am alright, I was just... Thinking...” he answers, voice gentle. He wouldn't tell her that he was thinking about her. How he was basically thinking about her touch.

“If you say so...” she says hesitantly and they eventually return to baking.

They just made the classic chocolate cookies and also baked an apple pie.

They arranged the cookies and placed them into two rectangular boxes, they made enough for the hotel crew. [Y/n] carefully placed the apple pie on the cake container, allowing it to cool down first.

The two decided to change into a cleaner set of clothes as the ones they were wearing were dirtied when they were baking.

Lucifer gifted her clothes of course, she has her own room, a few doors away from his.

[Y/n] decided to wear a cute dress that was on her wardrobe, slipping it over her body. Applying some light makeup on her face. Grabbing a brush, her hand gently moving as she began to brush her hair.

After changing and meeting up in the living room, the two fallen angels didn't notice that they accidentally matched color schemes with their outfits.

Lucifer wore his usual white suit with red accents while [y/n] wore a white with red accents short dress that reaches her knees.

[Y/n] decided to carry the two boxes of cookies they've made, though, Lucifer wanted to be the one to carry it but the woman insisted as he would be the one to teleport them to the hotel.

Lucifer sighs but gives her an understanding smile, placing his arm behind her back and allowing his hand to rest on her waist. The action caught the woman off guard as she could feel heat creeping up to her cheeks.

Lucifer didn't notice how that simple action could fluster her so much, he thought it was nothing as he only wanted to make sure she teleports with him.

With a snap of his fingers, sparkling red smoke covered their bodies. The scenery of the palace's living room morphs as they teleport, now, they're in front of the Hazbin Hotel front doors.

Charlie was just discussing with the gang about what they're planning to do once Adam and the exorcists will come. Their attention was diverted as knocks were heard on the doors of the hotel.

“Oooh new guests?” Angel Dust says with a smirk, lying on his stomach as he lies on the couch, taking up the entire space.

Alastor was just grinning as he sat on the cushioned chair, Niffty sitting on his shoulders and playing with his hair.

Vaggie was sitting at the bar area with Husk still bartending. Sir Pentious was sitting with them too. The egg boys are just walking around.

Charlie's eyes sparkled, walking to the front door. Opening it to see her dad and... [Y/n]...?!

“Charlieee!” Lucifer greeted as he immediately hugged the girl, [y/n] laughing softly behind them.

Angel Dust looked at Husk, wondering if he saw the same thing as him.

The two fallen angels looked like they were matching outfits. Angel Dust gave them a smirk, in which the two fallen angels were confused why.

“Dad?! I didn't know you were going to visit? And Miss [y/n] I am glad to see you again.” Charlie smiled and approached the woman in which the older woman hugged the girl.

“[y/n] here wanted to visit and I thought why not? Also, we brought cookies! We baked them!” Lucifer says proudly, a grin on his face. [Y/n] laughs softly as she hands the two boxes to Charlie, in which the girl excitedly and happily accepts. “Really? Thank you so much!” Charlie says excitedly.

Charlie gave the two fallen angels a look before giving her dad a knowing smirk, Lucifer was confused.

The two fallen angels looked at each other and shrugged, not knowing what that was about. The two eventually went inside the hotel, closing the doors behind them.

[Y/n] was immediately pulled into the group, the hotel crew missing her. Lucifer smiles as he sits on the bar stool, admiring how she interacted with the others. No one is stupid, they can literally see the lovestruck look the King of Hell is giving the female fallen angel, they can literally see his dilated pupils. Charlie sat beside him, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

“What?” Lucifer deadpans, confused why his daughter is looking at him like that. Tearing his gaze away from his best friend.

Charlie nudges him, “You liked her don't you?” she teases him, Lucifer could feel his cheeks heat up once more.

“Me?! I think it's a little too early?” he says hesitantly and Charlie just gave him a raised eyebrow, clearly not believing him.

Husk scoffs behind the counter as he continues to wipe the glass, “Yeah, no one is believing that. We can literally see you giving her heart eyes and you two even looked like you guys are matching clothes.” Husk says nonchalantly and Lucifer had to double check his outfit and [y/n]'s.

They indeed looked like they were matching outfits.

Husk and Charlie could see the circles of Lucifer's cheeks redden even more. The king of hell was leaning his head against the counter, burying his face on his arm as he used it as a pillow, “It was a coincidence.” he explained and Husk just scoffs and chuckles.

“I think it's too early...” Lucifer murmurs, he doesn't want to admit it but he's scared of what Charlie will think. Will she think that he's replacing her mother?

Charlie's eyes soften, she places a hand on his shoulder for comfort. “You love her don't you? Long before I even existed and you still do and I think you shouldn't deny it dad. It's not healthy.” she murmurs softly and Lucifer sighs.

Charlie smiled softly at him, “If you're afraid of my opinion about this, I think you should go for it dad... I want you to be happy and Miss [y/n] seems to be a nice woman...” she says softly as she looks at the woman smiling with Sir Pentious and the egg boys as they ate the cookies that she and her dad brought. Charlie doesn't mind calling [y/n] her step mom. She already sees her like a mother figure already.

Lucifer's eyes softened, sparkling.

“You better shoot your shot, I think you're not the only one interested in her.” Husk says emotionlessly, gesturing behind Lucifer. The king of hell turned around and he could feel his eye twitch as Alastor gave him a smirk as the radio demon twirled the woman while she laughed.

Husk knows Alastor isn't interested, sure, the radio demon sees the woman more as a companion. He just needed to help this pathetic man they call a king to make a move.

Lucifer's sharp nails slightly graze the wooden counter in annoyance.

Charlie nudges him again, breaking his focus from the scene.

“Besides, I won't mind calling her mom. I won't replace my birth mother of course but Miss [y/n] is like a mom to me too. Allow yourself to be happy, dad.” Charlie says softly, smiling at her father.

Lucifer could feel himself get flustered at the idea. Him, Charlie, and [y/n] as a family. It doesn't sound so bad. It sounds amazing actually.

“Soon... I want to make sure that I am ready...” Lucifer says softly, his eyes looking at the woman who was happily conversing with a certain arachnid, chuckling softly as he notices her getting flustered. It might be because of what the arachnid has said to her.

Charlie smiled and nodded, “Take your time dad. You have all the time in the world.” she says softly and he nodded in agreement, “Indeed...”

TAGLIST I: CLOSED

@selvyyr @leo4242564 @blushhpeachh @lunanight1021 @dvc4 @nehy019 @lu-ferri12 @lilteamushroom @froggybich @eddiemunson4ever @who-let-me-write-this @gurutan27 @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @hcneyiced @valerie-36 @jovialcat123 @b0nn1e @raeinn @wally-darling-hyperfixation @faefanatic @trashbin-nie @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @hxzbinwrites @snoozewritezz @juskonutoh @mayhimouto513 @hcneyiced @koirb @viylikescats @ren-ren23 @kouyoumarryme @dou-dou @thatsquitepoggers

[littlefluu]

𓍯𓂃𓏧 E N H Y P E N F I C R E C S

AUGUST 19th, 2024 RECOMMENDATIONS

WELCOME TO A SMALL LITTLE COLLECTIONS OF RECENT WORKS I ENJOYED (I was really busy with uni so there isn´t that much new material here! For more recommendations check out my main masterlist) ⤷ GO BACK TO THE MAIN ENHYPEN MASTER LIST WITH EVEN MORE RECOMMENDATIONS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ALL OF THE MEMBERS

love. f. moments where they realize they are in love or when they fall harder than they did before ᝰ fluff, short scenarios, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Maybe in another universe !? by @leaderwon a. enhypen members texts after you pass away ᝰ sad, angsty SMAU, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

LEE HEESUNG

teeth by @gyuuberryy f, sug. you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy. ᝰ enemies to lovers, vampire!heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

talk tomorrow by @soobnny f. drunken confessions ᝰ best friends to lovers, heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

predictable predicament by @timextoxhajima f,s. so you're best friends with the campus hottie who happens to be the quietest one in his group of friends. he's different with you though. ᝰ best friend! heeseung, fluff, smut in the least explicit way .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK JONGSEONG

7:18 AM by @ashtxrie f. jay surprises a very sleepy y/n with breakfast. ᝰ established relationship, pure fluff, heavy domestic content timestamp, jay x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Naturally by @ikeuverse f,s. ★ jay has always been very private about his love life and physical contact in front of his friends, but a comment from his work colleagues made him rethink some things. ᝰ established relationship, fluff, smut, domestic , chef!jay x fem!reader  .ᐟ₊ ⊹

How you get the girl by @jaylver f, a. ★ Beach parties are supposedly fun and exciting, aren’t they? Wrong. Experiencing college parties is rare for you, but you decided to give this one a go after your best friend’s constant pleas. Things were alright until everything turned sour when trouble found you and eventually you were roped into a fight alongside the campus’ famous hockey playboy. As if that wasn’t enough, the devil himself conjured up an idea that you found yourself being entangled in. It was all fun and games up until confusion arose, feelings being confessed and played, in the end, Jay had to learn how to get the girl, his girl. ᝰ strangers to frenemies to lovers, fake dating au, college sports au, romance, fluff, angst, secret pining, ice hockey player!jay x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SIM JAEHYUN

Car rides by @jlheon f. a sequence of events from your and jake’s senior year ᝰ neighbors to lovers, fluff, highschool au .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SOUL SISTERS f. where layla shows how much she cares about the growing life inside you. ᝰ fluff, heavy domestic content, husband!jaeyun x pregnant!reader, .ᐟ₊ ⊹

break the ice by @jaylver f, a. ★ Punching a guy in the club then kissing him not long after at a hockey game wasn't exactly a fairytale, but for you, it was your reality. The worst part of all it wasn't even the incidents that happened, but the fact that you didn't know him or his name. That was until another stir of events that happened which caused you and him to actually meet, so what was the best way to break the ice after a disastrous punch and a shocking kiss together? A date. It could be love at first sight, or more accurately, it was love at first punch, or … kiss? ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, angst, ice hockey player!jake x afab!reader.ᐟ₊ ⊹

Midnight train (back to you) by @jaylver f, a. ★ You declared to the world that this summer will be yours. Ever since you’ve left home to chase your dream further in Europe, you never dared to look back, leaving your friends and family along with the precious memories there, including your silent love for your closest friend. Years passed, you were making a name for yourself and chasing that fame, settling in perfectly fine and eventually moved on with life. All was well until the transfer window came, announcing a new addition to the men’s first team, who also happened to be your childhood best friend, Jake Sim. Summer in Spain wouldn’t be what it is without experiencing lots of rekindling, heartbreaks, fallout but also a shot at love. ᝰ childhood friends to lovers, college/professional sports au, romance, angst, pining, (slight) slow burn, pro-footballer!jake x pro-footballer afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK SUNGHOON

Insatiable by @moonhoures s. your vampire bf suddenly becomes clingy which can only mean he’s hungry or horny . . . or both ᝰ non-idol!au, vampire!au, smut, sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Fatal trouble by @gyuuberryy f. your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go. ᝰ roommates to lovers, vampire au, soulmate au, vampire!sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MS. & MR. President by @jlheon f. seeing your ex in public leads to hiding in a small photobooth with your annoying student council vice president park sunghoon ᝰ non-idol!au, frenemies to lovers, sunghoon x freader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE by @jaylver f, a. ★ Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that.  ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, comedy, slice of life, angst, (attempted) he fell first but she fell harder, slowburn-ish, ice hockey player!sunghoon x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

RIKI NISHIMURA

supernova by @star-sim f,a,h. riki was the city's top hero, you were the top villain. when your archnemisis pulls up to your apartment late at night, all battered and bruised, you just sighed and took him in. you were a villain, not a monster! ᝰ hero! riki x femvillain! reader, superhero! au, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, a lil bit of angst .ᐟ₊ ⊹

duck by @jlheon f. you want a sonny angel hipper ᝰ Idol bf! nishimura riki x fem! reader, established relationship, fluff .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MY FAVORITE AUTHORS THIS MONTH @jlheon ★ @jaylver ★ @gyuuberryy

[chunghasweetie]

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 | J.JK

— part 1

— pairing | dom!oc x nerdysub!jjk

— summary | oc finally cuffs jk and they celebrate

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, cursing, praising, dom oc, overstimulation, masturbating, voyeurism(?), pussy eating, squirting, slutty oc

— word count | 3.5k words

— song suggestion | greedy — ariana grande

It went from one study session a week to 3. Then it was 4. Now damn near every single day.

Now she was never apart from him.

He was her little boy toy and he loved every second of it. He was always over at her place and everytime he never left without some sort of mark.

He was so infatuated with her and obsessed. His life was dull and repetitive but now it was thrilling and exciting.

He longed for this girl. All he could think about is her.

Although he still stuttered, he grew a bit of confidence around her.

She knew everything about him and she actually was able to get him to speak to her.

It wasn’t unusual for her to let herself inside his apartment. She’d always come over for sleepovers.

Mostly because she liked bothering him while he was on the game.

Today was one of those days. She packed a bag and let herself into his apartment like usual.

She told him she was going to a frat party with her girlfriends, but she always intended on surprising Jungkook.

She tip toed to his bedroom, opening her mouth to say his name before hearing something she didn’t expect.

He was moaning. Well, whining actually.

“There’s no way.” Her heart dropped.

Was he with another girl?

She remained silent, deciding to peek over at him.

He was in his room, near his PC per usual. The complex set up made it difficult for her to really see what was going on.

She stuck her head a bit further out, taking a look at what was on his screen.

The last thing she expected to hear was Jungkook whimpering out her name, jerking himself off in front of his computer.

Her instagram and many other images he took were displayed on all the screens in his set up.

She stayed hidden, simply hiding and watching him in silence as he continues.

“Y-Y/n— ah”

He was lost in his own world, letting out soft moans as he pleasured himself.

“M-More fuck.” He panted. “F-Feels so good.”

His face was flushed with desire, and his breathing became heavy as he approached his climax.

She was amazed how he was so lost in everything that he hadn’t noticed her standing dead in the doorway.

His glasses slipped down near his nose, not even bothering to push them up. “M-Miss you.”

“S-So pretty” His hand moves quickly, his other hand supporting himself on the desk as he rocks his hips back and forth.

Jungkook let out a soft gasp as he reached his climax, still unaware of her presence.

Jungkook's eyes snap open as he feels his orgasm hit, his whole body shuddering as he cums all over his shirt and laptop.

“S-Shit I-“ He breathed heavily for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

Cum was leaking all over his tip, dripping down his shaft and all over his screen.

“Goddamnit” He cussed with his pouty like voice, ushering to clean himself up.

He grabbed the nearest towel, cleaning himself of the liquids he poured out.

Jungkook had refreshed his feed over 6 times, waiting for her to post. “Come on. Please” He kept refreshing.

Whenever she went out his blood went cold with anxiousness.

Although she was fucking him almost everyday, he worried about getting replaced.

With her friends being the frat boy hopping type, it made him so nervous Y/n would be the same way.

She cleared her throat, finally making her presence known.

Jungkook’s head snapped over to the doorway, heart thumping out of his chest.

“Y/n!” He said a bit loudly, even for him. He cleared his throat. “I-I thought you were at a party.”

Jungkook's face turned bright red with embarrassment as he realized that Y/n could’ve been there the whole time.

“Hi baby” She played it cool, placing her bags on the side of his bed. “What you been up to today?”

He scrambled to cover himself up, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he tried to come up with an explanation for his irrational behavior.

"Well, uh... I was just... studying and on the game." Jungkook stammered out, still flustered from what had just happened.

He knew that it was a feeble excuse, but it was the only thing he could think of at the moment.

“Such a nerd.” She laughed.

Jungkook blushes deeper at her teasing, his gaze darting back and forth between her and the floor.

“Y-Yeah.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

He felt like the words, ‘I masturbated to you’ was painted on his face.

He finally turned to face her, and his jaw immediately dropped.

Jungkook's eyes widen as she slides onto his bed, her mini skirt riding up to reveal a strip of smooth, tanned skin.

“D-Did you um— buy a new outfit?”

He swallows hard, trying to keep his composure as he stares at her, his mind racing with dirty thoughts.

“I actually did. Do you like it baby?” She asked him.

Mini skirts always did her so good. Her body was perfection and today she wanted nothing but Jungkook to notice her skirt.

Jungkook nods, unable to tear his gaze away from the tantalizing glimpse of her thighs.

He was such a nerd they reminded him of the anime’s he would watch.

His voice is barely above a whisper as he replies, "Y-yes, you look really, really pretty."

He licks his lips, his heart pounding in his chest. "M-may I...”

“Words, Jungkook. You’re a big boy remember?”

Jungkook swallows hard, his face turning bright red as he fumbles with his words.

"M-may I... touch it?" He asks, his eyes never leaving her thighs, his hands shaking slightly as he reaches out to gently trace the hem of her skirt.

“Of course baby.” She chuckled at his cuteness. “You can do whatever you want to me. You know that.”

Jungkook's breath hitches in his throat as he hears her words, his heart racing even faster than before.

He nods, his fingers trailing higher up her thigh, slowly, reverently, as if he's afraid that if he touches too quickly, she might disappear. "I-I want to...”

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook swallows hard, his fingers finally reaching the lace of her panties.

He bites his lip, his eyes locked on hers as he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, "May I... touch you here?" His fingers hover just above the wet fabric, his entire body trembling with anticipation.

Jungkook was such a nerd, he pictured her as some anime princess he had seen years ago.

She whined at the sudden feel of his fingers.

Jungkook's eyes light up with excitement as he hears her response, his fingers moving to slide underneath her panties, brushing against her slick folds.

He gasps softly, his eyes widening as he feels how wet she is for him. "A-Ah... you're so wet..."

“All because I seen you earlier.” She chuckled. “You really thought I didn’t see you touch yourself to me baby?”

Jungkook's face turns beet red as he realizes she caught him masturbating to images of her.

He quickly pulls his hand out from under her panties, his other hand flying to cover his face in embarrassment. "I-I... I didn't mean for you to see that..."

“I-I... I didn't know you saw me..." He admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Saw you? Baby I heard you. You’re so whiny when you’re needy.” She teased him.

Jungkook's breath hitches as she teases him, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.

He can feel his cock throbbing once again in his pants, desperate to be freed and buried inside of her. "Y-You heard me...?" He asks, his voice trembling with need.

“Of course I did baby. It’s why I was so wet” She slowly slipped his hands out of her panties. “Well, I’m always wet around you.”

Jungkook's hands are left empty as she slips them out of her panties, his fingers twitching with the need to touch her again.

He swallows hard, his eyes fixed on her drenched pussy. "Y-You're always so wet around me...?"

“Always. You know this baby.” She giggled. “You think I’m changing panties for fun when I come over?”

Jungkook's breath hitches as she reveals that she comes to him specifically to be fucked. "N-No... I didn't... I didn't think..."

“You’re so cute!” She laughed, loving the way he stuttered and stammered.

“You know at first when I heard you, I thought you were getting fucked by someone else.” She admitted.

Jungkook's eyes widen with horror as she confesses that she had thought he was getting fucked by someone else when she heard him moaning.

He would never want her to think that of him. Not after all he’s done to finally have her.

He shakes his head vehemently, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "N-No, no! It was just me...I-I would never I- only want you.”

“I know now.” She exhaled. “But now I realized I can’t keep doing this. Not this way anymore.”

Jungkook's heart sinks.

He looks at her with pleading eyes, his hands reaching for hers. "P-Please... don't say that. I-I really like you...I— I just can’t—“

“I need you to be my mine.” She interrupted, looking up at him. “Need you to be my boyfriend.”

Jungkook's heart races as she tells him she wants him to belong to her. A smile spreads across his face, and he nods eagerly. "R-Really? Y-You want me to be your... boyfriend?"

He can hardly believe what he's hearing.

Jungkook's eyes light up as she confesses her feelings for him. He nods eagerly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in for a tight hug. “I-I don’t know what to do I— Never thought this would happen.”

Jungkook's heart swells with happiness as she confesses that she's wanted him to be her boyfriend for a long time.

He can hardly contain his excitement as he pulls her into a tight embrace, his lips finding hers in a passionate kiss. "I-I'm so happy..."

She laughed into their kiss. “You should be baby, I’m all yours now nerd boy.”

He's never been happier to be labeled as such. He tightens his grip on her out of habit, deepening their kiss as he whispers against her lips, "Y-You’re all mine finally.”

He can't believe that this amazing, popular girl is now officially his girlfriend.

He was now dating the girl his high school bullies were fighting over one another for.

Here she was in his room, confessing to him.

She took charge of their make out session, smacking her plump lips against his. “How should we celebrate baby?”

Jungkook can't help but moan at her aggressive kiss, his hands roaming over her body as he gives himself over to the moment.

When she pulls away and asks about celebrating, he stammers out a response, "W-we could do whatever you want...”

“Maybe we can start with taking

care of your little issue down there.” She laughed.

Jungkook's face flames at her comment, but he can't help the small moan that escapes his lips at the thought.

He nods, whispering, "Y-yes please..."

“Speak up for me baby.” She bit her lip, checking him out. “Tell me how you want me.”

Jungkook's mind goes blank at her request, his face flaming even brighter. He stammers out, "I— Uh..."

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down and not get too overwhelmed.

“Breathe baby.” She cooed. “Take it slow.”

“C-Can you get on top of me?” He finally lets out.

Jungkook's breath hitches as she doesn’t hesitate, his hands reaching up to touch her waist.

He watches as she settles herself on top of him, feeling her warmth against him. "F-Fuck..."

“Still so shy” She giggled.

Jungkook's face flames even brighter at her comment, but he can't help the small moan that escapes his lips.

He whispers, "C-Can't help it...you feel so good." He reaches up to touch her face, pulling her down for a kiss.

“And so needy.” She laughed into their kiss.

Jungkook can't help the small whimper that escapes him at her comment, his hands tightening on her waist.

He whispers, "You— make me like that..." He leans up to capture her lips in another kiss, trying to convey all of his feelings to her through it.

“Gonna let you in raw again this time okay? Gonna let you cum wherever you want. Mm on the pill now.” She hummed.

Jungkook's breath hitches as she says those words, his hips bucking up to meet hers.

He whispers, “R-Really?!" He leans up to whisper in her ear, "I-I can cum inside you?"

“Of course baby” She could feel him throbbing under her. “You’re so weak I could dry hump you and make you cum your pants.” She teased him.

Jungkook groans at her words, his hips stuttering with pleasure.

He leans up to kiss her again, his hands roaming over her body. "I want this so bad..." He whispers, "P-Please Y/n?”

“Lift up my mini skirt.”

Jungkook's hands tremble as he reaches up to lift her mini skirt, revealing her lacy underwear.

He groans, "...You're so beautiful Y/n..." He leans down to kiss her inner thigh, his hands gripping her hips tightly.

Jungkook's hands move to her underwear, pulling them down her legs.

He looks up at her with a desperate expression, "C-Can I...make you cum first? P-Please?”

She nodded.

Jungkook's eyes light up at her words, and he leans down to kiss her again.

He whispers, "Thank you..."

Recently, all Jungkook had been wanting to do was eat her out. It’s like he craved it more than actually being inside her.

She tasted so good and she always moaned and spoke so dirty to him while he did it. The praise and appreciation she showed him drove him insane.

Especially because it was all from him.

Usually she was always leading. Whenever he ate her out he felt like he had a bit of power.

Even if he was whining and moaning over her taste.

He lays her down on his bed, spreading her legs for him to access her heat.

His hands roam over her body as he begins to kiss and lick at her clit.

She hums at the feeling of his tongue on her clit. “Always trying to make me cum first hm?”

Jungkook moans at her words, his own arousal growing as he feels her getting closer. He continues to lick and kiss at her clit, his fingers teasing her entrance. He wants to make her cum hard for him.

He continues to lick and kiss at her clit, “S-So sweet.”

Jungkook groans at the feeling of her gripping his hair. He loves when she's like this, so desperate for more.

He quickens his pace, his tongue moving faster over her clit as his fingers slip inside her.

“Tastes so good— fuck” He panted, face absolutely lost in between her thighs.

“Fuck— all that practice fucking paid off.” She groaned. “Fucking amazing baby.”

His own arousal was growing. He's proud of himself for making her feel this good.

He continues to lick and kiss at her clit, his fingers moving inside her. "I-I love it too much— N-Never want to stop.”

“Mm— so good” Her eyelids were practically twitching from how good she felt. “Such a good boy.”

He continues to move his fingers inside her, his tongue still flicking against her clit. "So good…for you…”

Whenever he’d speak his lips would barely leave her clit, not wanting to ever separate himself.

He feels her thighs tighten around his head, and he knows she's close.

“Fuck baby I’m close.” She arched her back.

He curls his fingers inside of her, his tongue still flicking against her clit.

Within seconds and without warning, she squirted all over his mouth, face and glasses.

She gasped aloud, “Oh my gosh!” She covered her mouth. Her legs were trembling, her whole body affected by her intense orgasm.

She squirted for him ever so often, but this one definitely shook up his world.

He was in shock, and he fell further for her than he already had. He felt so accomplished and adored.

She looked down at the soaked boy, his once clean frames now drenched with her liquid arousal.

His mouth was still very attached to her, she had to grip his hair just to separate athe two.

“It’s all over you— and your bed” She reached out, almost embarrassed by how much she squirted.

Jungkook looks up at her with a big grin on his face. He takes off his glasses and wipes them on the sheets before putting them back on.

“That was so—“ He swallowed. “Amazing.”

“Wow baby” She laughed. “You took it a lot better than I thought.”

She eyed him, “Let me fuck you baby.” She laughed. “I know you’re desperate now. Come here.”

He leans his back against the headboard, scrambling to slip down his boxers.

“You’re adorable” She chuckled, climbing onto his lap. “Are you ready?”

Jungkook's cheeks turn a deep shade of red at her compliment, but it only makes him more excited.

He nods his head eagerly and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Y-yes... I'm ready... please..."

“Always gotta take care of you baby” She positioned herself on his cock, slowly slipping him inside of her.

Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural moan as she slides down onto his cock. He feels every inch of her, and it's better than anything he could have ever imagined.

He grips her hips tightly, trying to hold back his urge to thrust up into her.

She was so wet.

“Fuck baby” She whined, getting adjusted.

Jungkook nods his head and lets out a soft moan as she adjusts herself on top of him.

He's in heaven right now, and he never wants this moment to end. He looks up at her and smiles softly. "You feel too good-“

“Relax yourself baby.” She comforted him, knowing how overwhelmed he got.

Jungkook blushes and nods his head, biting his bottom lip as he feels her wetness enveloping him. "Y-yes... you're so wet... and tight..."

He was so whiny and needy for her. He was pussy drunk and a desperate mess. She couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.

Jungkook's cheeks turn a deeper shade of red as she chuckles at his eagerness.

He can't help it; he'd never felt this good before her. He looks up at her with puppy dog eyes, pleading for more. "P-please...”

She started moving on him, grinding painfully slow on top of him.

Jungkook lets out a soft moan as she starts to move on top of him, grinding her hips against his.

He can't believe how good it feels, and he wraps his arms around her waist, holding her close. "F-fuck... that feels so good..."

Jungkook's body trembles and shakes as she continues to grind on him, his whines and moans growing louder. He can't help but be overwhelmed by the sensations. "I-I can't...”

Jungkook takes a deep, shuddering breath as she relaxes against him.

He feels her hands on his chest, slowly running them up and down his shirt and he can't help but feel even more overstimulated. "C-can't take it...”

“Want me to stop baby?” She asked him, slowing down on him.

Jungkook shakes his head frantically. He doesn't want her to stop, but he also can't handle the intensity of what she's doing to him. "N-no... just... you’re moving so much and—I-I’m gonna cum too quick... please..."

“Like this?” She grinded on him more intensely, whispering moans and praises in his ear.

Jungkook's whines and moans grow louder as she grinds on him. He can feel every inch of her and it's driving him wild.

He clings to her, whispering her name over and over again. "Y-yes, like that..”

“You always cum too quick baby.” She giggled, “You’re okay Jungkook”

Jungkook's face flushes bright red at the teasing and he buries his face in her neck.

He hates that he always cums so quickly, but he can't help it when she's touching him like this. "I-I'm sorry... I just—“

“Shh” She stopped him mid explanation. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. That’s why you’re my baby.”

He couldn’t help but blush, swallowing harshly.

“Fuck Jungkook— So fucking big and I still can never get used to it.” She groaned.

Jungkook's mind goes blank as she takes control. He can only moan and whimper as she rides him harder and faster.

Her words of praise only fuel his desire, and he clings to her, relishing in the feeling of being dominated by the girl he loves.

“Y/n I—“

Jungkook lets out a low groan as she takes him over the edge. He feels himself pulsing inside her, filling her up with his release.

“How was that baby?” She chuckled. “Better than when you masturbated to me earlier?” She teased, revealing that she seen him.

His face drained of color, in utter horror.

He can't help but feel embarrassed at being caught like that, but the fact that she knows and is still here with him only makes him feel even more loved.

“I thought it was cute— and funny.” She laughed.

His mind goes blank as he collapses on the bed, panting heavily. "F-Fuck I— I’m sorry."

“Whyre you apologizing?” She bit her lip, eyeing him up and down. “That is just how I like to see you. Let’s clean you up baby, we’re gonna go out.”

“C-Can I— we—“ He panted

“Yes Jungkook.” She laughed. “We’ll shower together.”

[awearywritersworld]

she mumbled that i was peculiar

sukuna x reader summary: impressively, sukuna is still trying to find ways to deny his feelings for you. nevertheless, he keeps you safe from harm when a late night trip to the store doesn't go as planned. will seeing his violent nature for yourself change the way you feel about him? he seems to think so. w/c: 4.2k (oops) tags/warnings: angst to fluff. attempted kidnapping. canon typical violence. depictions of blood. reader throws up. reader is in shock for a bit. cursing. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: i'm sorry this took so long! im ngl, i struggled quite a bit to write this chapter. i'm still unsure about the pacing, but here it is anyway. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! series masterlist // masterlist

it's not often that you go out for the evening, but tonight is one such occasion. you leave around seven, excited to meet nobara and maki for dinner.

when yuuji falls asleep a few hours later, sukuna doesn't take over right away. he spends a while in his domain, engaging in what some people might call sulking.

before long, however, he begins to feel restless and he tells himself it's because he's grown accustomed to his finite hours of freedom. of course, it has nothing to do with your absence.

so he assumes control of his vessel's body and pulls a short novel from your bookshelf. settling on the couch, his fingertips brush over the cover: the stranger by albert camus

it's the first time he's ever been alone in your apartment, a fact he's well aware of, and his eyes wander to the front door. it'd be all too easy to pull it open, to make his way downstairs and out onto the street.

how long would it last before yuuji regained control? are you nearby? would you get caught up in the havoc he'd doubtlessly wreak?

the thought makes him grimace. returning his focus to the book in his hands, time seems to pass by faster as he makes his way through the pages.

even so, he deems the narrative a bit boring. in his (what's the opposite of humble?) opinion, dead mothers and nagging girlfriends don't make for the most captivating story, so his mind begins to wander once he happens upon the quote:

"so why marry me, then?" she said. i explained to her that it didn't really matter and that if she wanted to, we could get married. besides, she was the one who was doing the asking and all i was saying was yes. then she pointed out that marriage was a serious thing. i said, "no." she stopped talking for a minute and looked at me without saying anything. then she spoke. she just wanted to know if i would have accepted the same proposal from another woman, with whom I was involved in the same way. i said, "sure." then she said she wondered if she loved me, and there was no way i could know about that. after another moment's silence, she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.

sukuna thinks about you— the woman who forced her way into his solitude.

although, what if it hadn't been you? what if the brat had been involved with another woman? would he have eventually taken an interest in her too?

are you really that special, or is he just going crazy inside the cage that is itadori yuuji? the latter is much more likely, right?

he supposes he prefers the idea of madness over... feelings for some human.

all of a sudden, your apartment door seems much more inviting. would it be so bad if he were to step through it? what did he really have to lose?

yeah, that's right. he'll get up any second now and act on every horrible impulse he's been repressing. any second now... any second...

he can't quite figure out why he's unable to bring his limbs to move, weighed down by some force that's beyond him.

it's at that moment the door clicks open and for a split second, he thinks it must be his sign to go, but then you come waltzing in.

"'kuna!" you greet in an excited manner, disrupting the peaceful quiet.

kicking off your shoes haphazardly, you make your way over to him and promptly drop yourself into his lap. it elicits a bout of unwelcome clarity for the king of curses.

no, he wouldn't have taken an interest in just anyone, that much becomes obvious. it wasn't through a medium as flawed as chance that he came to... tolerate you. you're much too annoying for that to be the case.

"hello???" you wave your hand in front of his face. "i'm home."

"i can see that."

"welcome home, darling," you say in a deep voice, a poor imitation of him. "i missed you so much— that's what you're supposed to say."

yeah, definitely too annoying.

"but i didn't miss you." one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh, a betrayal of his preceding assertion.

"you're sitting alone reading—" you pause to inspect the book lying open beside him. "existential fiction about a nihilistic frenchman. of course you missed me."

he changes the topic rather swiftly. "you're drunk."

"i'm tipsy, at best." you roll your eyes. "can't i just be happy to see you?"

"you'd be the first."

"i don't mind making history."

you place a kiss on his lips, casual and affectionate in way that makes sukuna's body stiffen, and stand up.

"i need to get ready for bed, then we're gonna watch tv together because i missed you— gosh, see how easy that was?"

you run off to the bathroom and his body doesn't fully relax until he hears the shower turn on.

the thought of missing someone is a strange notion to him, because it implies eagerness and desire. for as long as he cares to remember, those emotions have been reserved for proclivities much more sinister.

so he hadn't missed you. he just would have preferred it if you stayed home. that's all.

when you return to the living room around fifteen minutes later, you're wearing one of yuuji's shirts, and as far as sukuna can tell, very little otherwise.

making yourself comfortable on the floor between his legs, you pass a hair tie behind you. "can you braid my hair?"

he's watched you get ready for bed enough times that he's fairly certain he can manage it. taking the tie from you, he still asks "why can't you do it?"

"because i'm sleepy," you frown, reaching for the tv remote.

gathering your hair in his hands and carefully dividing it into sections, he sighs. "you require so much looking after."

"you're not going to die if you can't have cookies tonight." sukuna states dryly, glancing at the clock that reads eleven o'clock.

"please don't trivialize my struggle," you begin, pulling on your jacket. "i want miso butter cookies— my grandma's secret recipe."

most of what you need can be found in the kitchen, but a trip to the store is in order for a few final ingredients.

"my mistake," he huffs, rising to his feet. "how insensitive of me."

"oh, it's alright. just don't let it happen again."

"sure. i'll keep that in mind, princess." sliding the apartment door's chain lock off the track, he does little to hide the vexation in his tone.

just as he reaches for the handle, you stop him and wrap a scarf around his neck, forcing a hoodie into his hands. "put this on. you'll be cold."

he looks at you as if you're crazy. "i don't have to worry about things as insignificant as the weather."

"well, put it on anyway," you insist.

he decides that acquiescing will be easier than arguing for the next five minutes and slips the hoodie over head. when you both step out into the chilly air of night, there are still a decent number of people traveling the streets.

stopping at a crosswalk the next block over, you begin to prattle on about what you need to pick up and the different steps in your recipe. naturally, you completely miss it when the pedestrian sign turns green.

"come on," sukuna commands, his hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you along with him. "i don't have all night."

you scoff. "to be fair, i didn't say you had to come with me."

"yeah well it's late. you shouldn't be out alone." there's a hint of exasperation in his voice, like he truly had no choice in the matter.

despite that, once you reach the other side of the street, his fingers slide down your palm and thread through yours.

you glance over at him and find he's looking off to the side, so you bite your lip to suppress your pleased smile. is he avoiding your gaze intentionally? you decide that bashfulness suits him better than you would have expected.

offering him a light squeeze of the hand, you hope it conveys your appreciation of his small display of affection.

"so, are you going to help me make the cookies?"

his lips press into a thin line. "as thrilling as that seems, i don't particularly have a penchant for baking."

"you think you'd humor me a little! you know, since i'm your only friend and all."

"if anyone else asked me such a ridiculous question, they wouldn't live to see tomorrow." you ponder whether he's joking and quickly decide that he isn't. "this is me humoring you."

"you're so mean to me."

"hardly."

"fine," you pout. "then you can't have any!"

"now, hold on." the threat does make him hesitate. you've come to learn that if there's one thing he loves as much as reading, it's food. "let's not be hasty."

you're approaching the store, the sliding doors just a few strides away.

"it's only fair! besides, you're not going to die if you can't have cookies," you throw his earlier words in his face.

he exhales deeply. "have i ever told you how irritating you are?"

"woah! now you're definitely not getting any, mister!"

"alright, alright," he groans as you step inside. "i'll help you bake your stupid cookies."

"perfect!" you exclaim as if you knew he'd give in eventually (you did). "then you can start by finding the miso paste while i get everything else!"

you scamper off before he can tell you not to order him around like some common servant. he's never even been grocery shopping, how the hell is he supposed to find anything in here?

wandering the aisles, he stews over how domestic this is. for god's sake— the king of curses, shopping for ingredients and making baked goods. what have you reduced him to?

just as he considers giving up, he spots the item he's looking for and grabs it so aggressively that it knocks a few packets of instant miso soup to the floor. wrinkling his nose in distaste for the entire experience, he sets off looking for you, though his efforts are to no avail.

he wonders where the hell you could have gone off to when a flickering light catches his eye, filling him with a strange sort of unease.

it's emanating from a narrow hallway tucked away in the back corner of the store. at the very edge of the hall, a phone with a familiar case is lying on the floor, the screen shattered.

his blood runs cold, a sensation that is fully unknown to him, and the miso paste slips from his fingers. he appears in the hallway the very next second and the sight that greets him ignites a furious hostility in the center of his being— heavy and consuming.

you're struggling against one man as he drags you out of the backdoor and into an alley. another man is holding the door open, urging his partner to hurry up.

the hand over your mouth keeps you from yelling, but you're unsure you would have been able to make a sound regardless.

one second you're cast into darkness, and the next, the light seems blinding. the flashing is unceasing and it makes your head hurt.

two limbs are wrapped around your torso, keeping you firmly in place, and your arms are trapped at your sides. you might be kicking your legs, but they may just be dragging along too. you really can't be sure.

there's a thrum of a heartbeat at your back. it's pace is unforgiving, the intensity mirroring that of your own. you've a vague concern that your heart may very well beat right out of your chest.

then there's an abrupt shift in the air and a sickening crack echoes through out the night. crumpling onto the concrete, you think it must have started raining before you realize that the droplets on your face are warm.

you wipe at your cheek and your fingers stain crimson, the color matching that of an increasingly large puddle seeping across the pavement beside you.

there's a heap lying a few feet away and you recognize that it's wearing clothes. it's a sight you struggle to make sense of.

needing to focus on something else, your eyes find sukuna and the expression he's wearing is fierce and unreserved. "tell me what you wanted with her."

you've never heard him speak in such a way. his tone is low, his cadence nothing short of threatening.

"s-s'kuna?" your own voice sounds foreign to you and it goes unheard by him.

he has your attacker pressed against the brick wall of the alley, both hands wrapped around his throat. he's too livid to realize the pressure on his windpipe is preventing him from answering.

sukuna throws him to the other side of the alleyway out of frustration, the man rolling onto his back and wheezing to appease his lungs.

"tell me!" sukuna commands again, louder this time. less collected.

the man scrambles away from his looming figure. "th-they sent us, told us they needed her for an important matter."

"who?"

"they'll kill me if i tell you—"

sukuna crouches down, laughing dryly. "and what do you suppose i'm going to do?"

his eyes are almost unrecognizable to you. they're frenzied— a few shades deeper than the scarlet you've grown so fond of.

"you'll k-kill me either way, so at least i'll die with honor—"

"tch. useless." sukuna waves his hand, and you can hardly comprehend what happens right in front of you.

neat red lines appear across the man's body, then it ruptures into nothing at all. the only evidence that he was ever there in the first place is his blood.

the stench of which is perhaps the worst part— intense, coppery, and hot. it makes your eyes water, and before you know it, you're hunched over and emptying the contents of your stomach onto the ground.

sukuna is at your side in an instant, pulling your hair away from your face, but while one of your hands is braced against the concrete, the other endeavors to push him away.

his body doesn't budge at the contact, but he takes a step back anyway in an attempt to respect your wishes.

your mind is a mess filled with racing thoughts— what the fuck? this cannot be happening. what the hell even happened in this first place? that man was there and then he wasn't.

inhaling sharply, you wipe at your mouth and shift to pull your knees to your chest.

"what..." you trail off, surveying the unutterable, incomprehensible scene before you. "what did you do?"

he doesn't respond, though his features noticeably soften. somewhere in the back of your mind, you know very well what he did, but you can't help repeating. "what did you do?"

"we need to leave." it's not that sukuna couldn't handle whoever might show up, but seeing as this is your reaction, he has no desire to. "if you let me touch you, i can take us home."

you take a moment to think about it, then nod wordlessly. as soon as his hand falls on your shoulder, you're met with that same sensation you felt the night gojo teleported you and yuuji home after one too many drinks.

though this time, the sick feeling in your stomach isn't caused by liquor. you don't stand up, you don't so much as move a muscle when you feel the surface beneath you shift from concrete to carpet.

sukuna breathes out your name, his uncertainty evidenced by the way he's shoved his hands into his pockets. meeting his eye, you reiterate the same inquiry once more. "what did you do?"

it's almost as if you want him to tell you that he didn't do anything. that the whole experience was some disturbing nightmare.

"those men would have hurt you."

"that doesn't mean they deserved to die." you choke on the final word.

"yes— it does."

with that, silence hangs in the air like a suffocating miasma.

looking to your hands, you're reminded of the blood you've been spattered with. "i need to wash up."

you still don't move from your spot, too fixated on your flesh and the dreadful hue that it's been painted with. sukuna notices now that you're trembling.

he approaches you hesitantly before extending his hand. "let me help you."

you decline his offer, shying away from him. "i think you've done enough already."

god, the look in your eye is utterly despondent. he struggles to swallow the lump that forms in his throat.

his arm falls limply to his side and he looks across the room, your copy of the stranger earning his attention.

he's overcome with chagrin when he realizes that his concern brought about by camus' quote the other night was wholly misguided. he'd been focused on his own feelings, whether they were genuine or simply wrought by his isolation.

how foolish was he to ever question what you truly mean to him? with the anguish that's settled in his chest at the sight of your current state, the fact he ever doubted it makes him feel like a hopeless idiot.

had he any sense at all, the part that resonated with him would have been—

she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.

disgust. is that what you're feeling now? he's certain it is.

it was just last week that he relayed the story of his past. you're the only person alive to know the truth of how his wickedness came to be, and you met him with unconditional sympathy and understanding.

you pulled him close and embraced him, but now that you've seen him for what he truly is...? you can barely stand to touch him and it's like a knife to his heart.

you're so fucking warm— like the sun against his skin after weeks of endless rain.

and if you're the sun, surely he is the moon— cold and barren on his own, but brilliant when in the presence of your light.

to be without that? to be without you? it's a prospect too terrible for him to bear. it makes his stomach twist miserably.

you're startled (as is he) when his form falls to the floor, his knees meeting the carpet with a dull thud. he calls out your name again, but this time, his voice cracks as he speaks. "please."

he doesn't have a clue what he's even asking for. a chance to explain? forgiveness? a way to turn back time?

you don't say anything, but you do shift your gaze to him. he knows that he needs to fix this, so he wracks his mind for the right words.

"i didn't enjoy killing those men." he's somewhat surprised to find he's telling the truth.

"you didn't?" your voice is so small and timid that he can hardly decipher your words.

"no. my only concern was to keep you safe— to make sure they never put their hands on you ever again. all i felt was rage and... and... guilt. i should have never left you alone and it's my fault—"

"stop," you interrupt him.

there are tears welling in your eyes, making it difficult for sukuna to breathe. he's positive you're going to tell him that his intentions were of little consequence and that you never want to see him ever again.

instead, you push yourself forward and collapse against his body, your own wracked with violent sobs. the reality of the situation is only just now hitting you. it'd been much easier to focus on what sukuna had done, rather than what almost happened to you.

"i was so scared, 'kuna."

and still, despite the way you're clinging to his shirt and burying your face in chest, he's under the impression that it's him you were afraid of.

"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly. "i never meant to frighten you."

"n-not of you. those men." you're struggling to speak in between desperate gasps. "why did they do that? what did they want with me?"

"i don't know." though, he is going to find out.

sukuna is not a man well versed in comfort, so he's not entirely sure why he begins rocking you back and forth, but he does it anyway.

when you finally start to breathe a little easier, he mumbles into your hair, "come on. let's get you cleaned up."

he doesn't give you a chance to respond before he scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. setting you down on the counter gently, he searches the linen closet for a cloth.

it's quiet, save for your intermittent sniffling, as he runs it under warm water and wrings it out. his free hand moves to rest against the side of your neck and he dabs at the blood on your face, rinsing the washcloth every now and then.

he tries his best not to show it, but sukuna is agonizing over what might be going through your mind.

do you still feel safe with him? have your feelings changed? do you still love him, even when you've been so harshly reminded what he's capable of?

when you speak for the first time your words are hoarse, barely above a whisper. "thank you for saving me, sukuna."

he thinks about telling you not to thank him, not when it shouldn't have happened in the first place. he left your side, an error in judgement he'll never forgive himself for.

he considers your mortality— your weakness— in relation to his feelings for you. he's always seen this exceptionally human quality as despicable.

but now? all it does is terrify him.

"in the past, i was only concerned with my own whims and desires." his hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. "though after tonight... you have to know..."

it's clear that he's struggling. his eyebrows draw together and his mouth twitches as he ponders his next words.

"i care about you, angel." his voice is hushed when he adds, "very much."

your eyes widen briefly and you murmur his name, but your mind is still reeling from the events of the past twenty minutes and you can't think of anything more to say. you're emotionally exhausted in a way you would have never thought possible.

it's plain to him too, so he knows his next question is selfish, but he can't go on without knowing. "does what you saw tonight change things between us?"

the silence preceding your answer seems to stretch on forever.

"i thought it would," you confess eventually. it was as if you'd put up a wall in your mind separating sukuna the king of curses from sukuna the man you spend your evenings with.

and it's difficult to reconcile the fact that the hands you saw used to murder two men are the same hands that are caressing your face so delicately.

at some point, however, you realized that the only time you felt fear tonight was when you were without him. his arrival and ensuing actions inspired shock and apprehension, though in some twisted way, you knew it meant you were safe. "but it doesn't."

the next question tumbles from your lips thoughtlessly. "does that make me a bad person?"

he chuckles and some of the tension in the room dissipates. "i think i'm the last one on earth that can pass moral judgement on you."

he tucks your hair behind your ear and scans your face, relief coursing through his body when he sees you smile. in this moment, there isn't anything else in the world he would have asked for.

"i guess you're right."

and now, the hand over your mouth is your own, an attempt to stifle your tired giggles. the light of the bathroom is warm and steady. sukuna's hands rest atop your hips, his touch firm but comforting. while you can't feel your own heartbeat, you're positive it must be beating in time with his.

when you crawl into bed that night sukuna pulls you close, your back pressed to his bare chest. you're thankful for the softness of his demeanor, because you need it tonight more than ever.

he doesn't recede to his domain until yuuji wakes up the following morning. he's determined to keep an eye on you as you sleep, to watch the slow rise and fall of your chest with newfound gratitude.

he knows he needs to speak with the brat about what happened. someone is after you and while he hates to admit it, he knows he can't ensure your safety alone.

and he will keep you safe, no matter the cost.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @elusivemoon @annoyingstrawberryballoon @miabiar @hyeon-yi @iluv-ace @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.

[goldsbitch]

My name

Busy schedules don't allow Y/N and her boyfriend Lando Norris much down time to chill with her friends. But missing a wedding is a no go.

fluffy fluff, wedding, one shot, for the vibes only

It was almost a stroke of luck that Y/N's friends managed to pick a date for their wedding on a day that Lando could attend. This was a rare opportunity, while she accompanied him often during his events or outings, more than often he was unable to be there as her partner on her personal affairs.

Missed family gatherings, friends birthdays and grill parties. She accepted that part of their relationship, with the hope that in the future, it might come to change. They'd been dating for two years now - if she had to pick the brightest days of her life so far, it would in this time frame.

There was lot of excitement in the late summer air. One of her best friends was marrying a guy she became good buddy with over the years. And Lando would finally be joining her, as her partner. No more half smiles following the question "Would Lando join us this time?". These two friends marrying each other were a nice inspiration for the kind of relationship Y/N strived for. And Lando was that for her - a partner, lover, friend and the one to always make her laugh. But some of the people in her life were not convinced that he was good for her, mainly for the lack of his presence. She did not want the opinions of other to spoil their relationship. However, it would be a lie to say that her heart wasn't jumping around with happiness at the prospect of having him join them.

Her friends organized their dream wedding in a lovely estate somewhere in South of France. Small village remote from any city, safe from any prying eyes. It was refreshing from the flashing lights of racing tracks. Eighty people, all mostly friends with each other.

Y/N came in earlier with the main couple, in order to help them put everything in place. Two days of hard work navigating typical struggled of wedding organizing, with tomorrow being the big day. Regular guest were coming in, but she was only waiting for him, counting every minute.

Those prep days were packed with dealing with logistics and all this wedding usually concern. Going back and forth and trying to make everything perfect for the main event. But, she manages to find a moment of solutide to take in the beauty, the smell of late harvest, sun kissed valleys and heavy summer air, that set everything in. Having the bottom of your dress shiver with light breeze is the epitome of bliss. Life was good. And for the main part, she would get to experience all this with her love around her arm.

//

The two getting married? They were something else.

"Babe, what the fuck are these glasses?" said the bride to be as she watched the caterers setting up table for an evening dinner buffet.

"Well, you said yes, to them, remember? Back in May," was how the groom replied hastily. Y/N watched, knowing well enough that the strange looking glasses that were too big for her friends small hands were definitely not what the bride would have picked. She smirked as she watched them bicker playfully.

"They look like some futuristic ashtrays," the bride continued, shooting arrows playfully at he soon to be husband.

"Hm. Isn't that cool?" he said, trying to talk himself out of it. They were both strong opinionated people, so this was not a rare debate.

"No? How do you think this suits our late summer garden vibe?" she said, pointing around to the fields.

"You said yes to them, I remember specifically..." he defended without a beat.

"My mom's going to think we smoke."

"Well...we could use them as ashtrays," he said, inspecting the items.

The bride threw her hands up, not believing the game her "soon to be" was playing. "Babe, we don't smoke!"

He mimicked her hand gesture ironically. "We could start!"

"Just admit you've made a fuck up, honey, and we're good."

"That will never happen. This is all part of the plan."

Y/N observed and chucked, knowing well enough that the best thing to do was to stay out of their way.

A small quiet whisper came from behind Y/N. "Is this how they always act?" Shiver down her spine. She smiled, because she could recognize that voice anywhere. Heard it thousand times in the morning, in the middle of a busy day and on too many late night phone call to count. She turned her head slightly only to find him standing right behind her, his head now resting on her shoulder.

"Hi, muppet," he continued as he wrapped his hands around her, hugging her from behind. "I'm sorry I am a little late. Turbulences held us up."

The two stood there, as young lovers would. Completely wrapped in their own world.

"Did they? I completely lost track, as you see, big problems over here," she said and pointed inconspicuously to the couple still bickering about glasses. It wasn't technically true, she managed to get her phone out every other minute as they were unpacking stuff. But that was too embarrassing to admit.

She finally turned around to give him a welcome kiss, a much needed physical contact after not seeing him for almost three weeks. "Do you think we could take a walk around the garden? I would to get my head clear before facing other people," he said sheepishly. The last few race weekends had been very tough on him.

"I would be more than happy," she replied with a smile.

The scenery was too good to be true. Never ending fields of trees, heavy air sitting on the top of everyone trying to breathe and smell of hot soil and dried leaves cut though it all. They walked hand in hand in silence for a while, the sound of cracking branches accompanying them with every step. These two had spoken a lot in the past few weeks, every day it was either a phone call of few videos shared mapping their separate days. Texting was not good enough for these two. Lando was pretty much touch starved. Even though he was touched by random people more than an average person would be, as some fans felt like it was ok to do so. It made him miss the consensual touch he shared with his girlfriend more than ever. Girlfriend was an interesting word, felt outdated for the feelings he had for her. A small box had been accompanying him whenever he saw her for a while now. But he figured that highjacking someone else's wedding with his own proposal was a bit rude and selfish. He was grateful that this time he did not bring the box with him, as he was not sure he'd be able to resist proposing when he saw how the light reflected from her hair made it all shine, like a fresh jar of honey. A white dress would definitely suit her and his last name as well. He knew she'd want to keep her maiden name too and was more than fine with that. But to add "Norris" behind it was his ultimate goal.

"You seem more quiet than usual," she asked after a moment, being more than capable of reading his face. He was slowly letting go of his stress from the races.

"I'm loosing myself in the thoughts about your dress," he replied cheekily, letting her think he is talking about the teal summer dress she was wearing at the moment.

"Are you, now?" she winked and pulled her dress up slightly, only stopping at her bikini line.

"Oh, you can't do that to me," he said, defeated.

"You sure?" She stopped walking, came closer to him and put her arms around his neck. "But it's been so long since you've touched me," she added, knowing this will set him off. Teasing and seducing him was like a second language to her. She got real close and rubbed her core against his crotch.

"You're asking for trouble, Ms....Y/L/N," he gulped, nearly having a Freudian slip there. He panicked slightly and decided to kiss her immediately. She didn't seem to notice. Once he calmed down a bit he slid his hand down to he legs and the went back up to cup her ass and pulling her dress up again. "I would have you right here and now," he mumbled into their kiss and she smiled. Absolutely in love.

"We'll have to wait until the evening, we have a very nice room..."

"I don't care about that, I want to cum into you right here and now," he continued and bit her upper lip lightly.

"Anyone could walk by," she kept resisting.

"As if I care."

She laughed and broke their kiss. "We have to go now. I still have to help the poor bride with the decorations."

He signed overly dramatically. "You are making my life a living hell, Y/N."

"You can punish me later," she ended and got out of his embrace and started heading back to the estate. "Come on," she instructed as Lando watched her ass as she walked away. Norris. It's going to suit her.

//

Evening marked shared laughter, catching up with many friends, local wine with cheese and hands held under the table. Only once it was really happening did Y/N started to notice how much she needed this. Being able to "show" Lando off to her friends for longer than a short appearance. They got to finally know him, not only listen to stories about him. Oh and he was marvelous that evening. Charming, funny, criminally handsome - and always by her side. He was happy to be there. One of the reason being finally able to listen to the people she spoke about, but also to let loose and not have to think about what he says. These were no sponsors, interviewers or teammates. He loved that they cared about her more than him. It was a nice change. And he was on board with that, enjoying the fact that she was the star and not him.

//

The wedding day had swung by in a blur and suddenly, Y/N and Lando were sitting in a small local chapel, watching her friends making a mark on their relationship.

But Lando was not watching them. He was watching his now girlfriend. With the sight he had in the corner of his eye, the thoughts hanging in the back of his mind were getting louder and louder.

The ceremony was a non serious and cheerful one, the priest making many jokes while still keeping the atmosphere together. As far as ceremonies go, this was an honest one. The only thing to bring people out the holy romantic vibe this gave off was an unapologetically explicit kiss the bride and groom shared as they got wed. It was more like watching drunk teenagers make out. Some people laughed, some people cheered and the rest were slightly mortified. Y/N was one of the people to turn their heads away from the sight, she had known this girl ever since they were kids, this was a little too much. Lando found her reaction amusing, as he had heard many stories of her and her friend to know that she'd witnessed way more extreme things. "Look at you, prude," he whispered to her ear as he watched the bride and groom fight with their tongues.

"I refuse to accept this," Y/N said, keeping it up with the grandmas in the room.

"Well, if this repulses you, then I'm afraid you're going to die of embarrassment at our wedding," he said as if it was no big deal. But to Y/N it was. They had joked about marriage few times, but Lando used a different tone of voice this time. But she had been secretly dreaming about it for a while now.

"You're going to have tie me down if you're planning on doing that," she said, pointing at the pair, not quite sure how to process that he was probably thinking about their marriage too.

"So far, you've never said no to my plans," he winked at her.

Y/N smiled and turned her eyes to the ground. If someone had asked why she smiled so much, she'd say it was because of her friend's wedding. Though it would only be one half of the truth. She held his hand, as they walked out of the church. For some reason, it almost felt like a rehearsal.

[lovely-p-issues]

Fic idea - Astyanax in Ithaca

for times when my English will become acceptable because writing this in Polish feels not right sample of the story under the summary c:

Of course, I was thinking about Penelope's reaction to Odysseus showing up with a new kid (10/11 years old, give or take, Astyanax) at their doors.

I imagined it as the Game of Thrones scene when Ned Stark comes home and shows Catelyn a baby who, he claims, is his bastard. If I were her, I would lose my mind.

But I think that Odysseus explained himself chaotically, yet truly and Penelope didn't fight with the idea of raising the little prince as their own.

But Telemachus? Well, that's a hell of a different story.

He spent his childhood without his father, missing his presence and hoping to meet him one day. He lived in his shadow, as the problematic son of the absent king that everyone wanted to kill, or as a painful reminder to his mother that Odysseus wasn't around anymore and that she needed to be there for the two of them.

Now his dad is back but with a new child.

A new child who knows his father so well. Odysseus was his only parent for ten years (if we forget about 600 uncles, but they died after like 3 years? if I get it right?) and they just get themselves on an impossible level.

Odysseus knows Astyanax's nightmares (they share them).

Astyanax knows his father's past and doesn't need to ask many questions, and Telemachus does. He hates to do it because he sees Odysseus's pain, he sees Astyanax's reproachful look, like he is going to fight Telemachus if he doesn't leave their father, and-

and he sees the sad, concerned eyes of his mom.

So he doesn't ask much about those 20 years. And somehow it's even worse.

Because Telemachus doesn't know Odysseus. Because it feels weird and not home, like they are forced to be close, but they are not. Because he knew his father from songs, stories and legends, and this man is not who he heard of and he doesn't know how can he fix it.

Telemachus doesn't like to think about it but feels like he gives up on Odysseus. He spent the last 20 years of his life trying to reach that man and- Telemachus is tired.

Besides, Odysseus has another son anyway, right?

The prince of Troy, cursed boy, son of Hector, Astyanax, who also turned out to be a pain in the ass.

He knows that he can't blame the kid for his existence or even for the fact that Odysseus took him to their home.

For that Odysseus often takes Astyanax for horse rides to show him the island. The thing that Telemachus did alone.

For that, Odysseus teaches the boy how to use a sword and they laugh a lot during that. The thing that Telemachus did with strangers, got dozens of bruises, always trying to do everything he could to impress the person that wasn't there.

He doesn't blame Astyanax.

He just can't stand him.

But the boy seems to love the idea of going after him whenever Odysseus manages to pull him off for a moment. It's okay when Astyanax watches him during the trainings with eyes shining with excitement. However, it's bad when Astyanax starts to talk.

Father said I'm getting better at parrying-

When I was with father on Calypso's island-

Father does this completely differently-

Telemachus is a patient man. He waited for his father for 20 years. But sometimes he asks himself if Astyanax knows that all this talking about Odysseus, the man he missed but can't actually get to know, is such a trigger for him.

Maybe Astyanax teases him to show how much more of a son Odysseus is?

With every day Telemachus is more and more irritated. He does his best to hide it, but he can't ignore this fire burning him from the inside.

The reason for this fragile peace collapse is, relatively, very stupid.

Telemachus was tired after all day when he met Odysseus.

"The situation in the city is now calmed down,’ he informed his father, combing through his wind-tangled hair."

Odysseus nodded and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Telemachus. Well done."

Telemachus froze, not knowing what to say. He couldn't even move. Finally, he nodded, wincing slightly at the awkwardness of his every interaction with his father.

"Of course, father."

Odysseus seemed equally perplexed. However, the whole situation changed when Astyanax appeared in the courtyard where they stood.

Or, he ran into it, almost toppling over, just to get to Odysseus faster and embrace him around the waist.

"Dad, you will never believe what I found with mother in the garden!"

Telemachus watched with unhealthy interest as his father's face lit up with a smile as he listened to Astyanax's excited chatter.

A sudden anger, though senseless and petty, flared his veins. He had to avert his gaze and drive it into the ground so that no one could see his anger. His jaw was clenched tightly.

Twenty years of life based on a vague memory. An entire journey to find his father. His faith, his efforts and his devotion. All this to not be able to have one real conversation with his father. All this to watch both his parents melt down over his new, little brother. All this to stand by and watch his dreams fade away.

He no longer watched.

He walked away before he could do something stupid. Something that would distance him even further from his father.

He holed up in one of the cool and dark corridors of their palace. He concentrated on his breathing and massaged his temples.

He was an adult and knew how to deal with his feelings. Not that anyone had ever taught him that.

"Telemachus, what's wrong? You don't even know what we found in the garden, you went too fast!"

He didn't know shit about how to deal with his feelings.

"Could you, for five minutes, let me live as I lived before you came along? Five minutes without your constant footsteps and shouting behind my back. Five minutes of peace and quiet! That's all I'm asking for!"

But Astyanax took a few steps back as if frightened by Telemachus' sudden outburst. A grimace twisted his face and he squinted as if Telemachus was an extremely difficult puzzle for his quick mind.

"Why are you so angry? I don't understand."

"At this point? I'm not sure anymore. All I know is that I wasn't this angry even once before you dragged yourself home with father and decided to act as if it had all been yours forever."

Telemachus had to calm down. For bloody hell, he had just shouted at the eleven-year-old as if he was guilty of anything.

‘Are you angry about your father bringing me with him?’

Damn it.

It wasn't true. To be fair, he did not want Astyanax to die that night in Troy or be lost in the depths of the burning city.

Still, did he want him here? He let his thoughts wander before he could finally admit it to himself.

Astyanax, essentially, was not the problem. Everything else was. Telemachus was as well.

"No. There are many other things I'm angry about, but not this."

He sat down on the floor and leaned against the cool wall. He hid his face in his hands and let the anger leave him with his next breaths.

"Forgive my shouting. You got me at the wrong time, brother."

And he heard the boy slowly slide down the wall and sit down a few steps away from him.

"You should be grateful, you know?" suddenly said Astyanax. "He travelled all the world to see you and Mom."

You won't scream, Telemachus said to himself. He took a breath.

"Yeah, he didn't really know me, so. I don't know if that counts."

"That's even better. I mean, he loved you anyway. All this time, he was thinking about you"

This logic was wrong, but Telemachus doesn't find enough strength to fight over it.

They stayed silent for a few minutes.

"He didn't want me, you know? He just didn't want me dead and I reminded him of you. He was also scared of what I would become if he just left me alone. And you are so awful but he wanted you from the beginning and he loves you and he was so proud and-" Astyanax put his arms around his knees, his voice breaking as he spoke his next words: "You're a terrible idiot, you know. But he still wants you."

Telemachus needed a few seconds to see that every now and then, Astyanax would rub his wet eyes with his little fists.

He wasn't ready for this, even after months of training he wouldn't be ready. He stays silent for a moment. Slowly, he puts his arms over the crying mess and draws him to his side.

"And you think that father carried you all over the world because he doesn't like you?"

"Because he's kind and he would be ashamed to tell uncle Polites what he did."

"As far I know he wasn't so nice all this time, right? But he never turned his back on you. If you don't trust me, trust that. Odysseus came with you to Ithaca, because he wants you."

Astyanax did not reply but rested his head on his side. Telemachus let him.

Later that night, Telemachus carried a tired Astyanax straight to his parents' bedroom and knocked. When confused Odysseus finally opened it, Telemachus threw the sleepy child at him without hesitation.

"Hug your bloody kid."

And he walked away. This was his moment to avoid uncomfortable questions.

Let me know what do you think. And yes, Telemachus and Odysseus have a proper conversation about being father and son, but later.

BTW sorry for all the errors, I'm so sleepy right now I barely see my screen

[blackjackkent]

Jaheira is Not a Deadbeat

I am, as always, deeply in love with the kids' ambient dialogue while waiting for Jaheira to come inside. And it's time for me to have Opinions.

FIG: I saw her! I swear! RION: Are you sure? Maybe it was just a laborer holding a shaggy grey mop! FIG: Be serious, Rion! Who puts braids on a mop?

FIG: She'll be here any second. Maybe she's sneaking! RION: Doubtful. We'd hear her knees cracking.

And of course my favorite:

RION: Enough, Fig. There's no point getting your hopes up. She'll be back when she's back. FIG: You don't think she will! RION: I know she will. But we'll wait a little longer, if you like.

😭😭😭😭

Rion absolutely knew perfectly well what she was supposed to do from Jaheira's instructions. She just didn't want to. She's been hanging on to the desperate belief that Jaheira was going to walk through the door and make it unnecessary - and, as it turned out, she was right.

OK, fuck it, I'm doing a post about this now. :P

Despite what the Tumblr BG3 fandom would have you believe, Jaheira is not a "deadbeat mom." Is she a parent with emotional constipation issues and way too much time at work? Sure. But so are plenty of other parents on both Toril and Earth. It's SUPER clear from the way all the kids (including Rion) talk to and about her that they LOVE her and she has been an enduring presence in their lives, and that her recent disappearance was both unusual and devastating. 

There are books she reads the kids up in the bedroom! Fig is so excited to announce she's back, indicating that the absence is not a normal occurrence! Jhessem has convinced herself they share a bloodline! Jord got to go to the market with her as a boy! These are not the circumstances of children who do not give a shit about their parent or vice versa!

The devnotes about Jord’s conversation in particular do not show a picture of a man with ill-will towards a mother who felt it customary to abandon him:

JORD: I tended to it. I just let it... thrive in its own independence. You know, same way you raised us. (Devnote: Well meant potshot at his mother, no malice in it) JAHEIRA: I raised you to be a sweet and kind boy. What happened? JORD: I watched what you did instead of listening to what you said. (Devnote: Amused, gently mocking his mother) JORD: This house has taken in a lot of children over the years. Mother dear was sometimes more commander than, well... mother dear. (Devnote: Smiling, explaining why he and Jaheira trade barbs. No criticism, just understated affection)

It is, perhaps, worth noting at this point as well that Jord - and Rion, and Fig, and even Jhessem - speak with that teasing, mocking tone towards Jaheira… but so does she - towards the people she cares most about, including you as the player. The kids are acting as they have learned, and words like this can and should easily be read as gestures of affection. And they clearly trust Jaheira enough to bring this playful rudeness to the fore without fear of it being misconstrued or turning into hostility.

And if they are like Jaheira in this way, they’re also not going to be comfortable showing the real depth of their feelings in front of you, the player character - who is fundamentally a stranger who has just walked into their house. Why would they? Jaheira clearly doesn’t; indeed, even her more serious conversation with Rion only takes place outside where even the other children aren’t listening. 

Perhaps most significantly, I truly don’t understand how anyone can interact with Tate for even a moment and think that Jaheira does not have a deep, if often unspoken, bond with the kids she raises:

JAHEIRA: I hope you were hibernating, little cub, I can’t think of another reason you wouldn’t come down to say hello. TATE: Jaheira! I d-didn’t… didn’t w-want to see if you were r-really dead. They said… JAHEIRA: Who said? TATE: Jord and Rion. They didn’t think I c-could hear… JAHEIRA: You little sneak-thief. Well, they were wrong. Look! Not dead! I just… had a few adventures.

She is so soft and gentle with him in a way that she is with no one else, a way that indicates that she knows him and how his personality is different from the others. And he in turn has clearly been utterly devastated by the idea that she might be gone.

Take, as well, the evidence provided by Minsc when he is present in these conversations! There’s plenty of evidence to indicate the degree to which Minsc is guided by Jaheira’s behavior - to the degree that a doppelganger wearing her face was the key ingredient to binding him temporarily into the Cult of the Absolute. And Minsc - far more comfortable with emotion than Jaheira, at least in some ways - is clearly very affectionate with the kids as well:

FIG: STAND ON YOUR LIVER! MINSC: It is stand and *deliver*, little Fig. Though I think I like yours better. You bellow like a true berserker!

JHESSEM: A fine day to you, saer. Are you known to this court PLAYER: Eh? JHESSEM: Ugh - play along, would you? MINSC: Lord Boo is most pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady! Word of your grace has spread far and wide among the hamster houses. (Devnote: Swooping in to preserve the child's make-believe after the player ruined it.) JHESSEM: Enchanted!

MINSC: Boo is also very well! And happy to see *you*, Rion. RION: And I him. Enough that I’ll let him keep his lumbering, sweaty steed inside.

Would Minsc have taken it upon himself to have such a comfortable relationship with these children if Jaheira did not? I doubt it. He’d be friendly, certainly, but this familiarity goes a great deal beyond that.

And as for Rion herself - it's definitely reasonable to assume that she's had a strained relationship with Jaheira as she's grown older. (I have a lot of headcanons about this for my specific worldstate canon, but even just sticking to the game canon, it definitely seems like that's the case.) But leaving aside that - can you blame her for being upset at this particular moment?

As far as Rion knows, her mom was recently emotionally devastated for an indeterminate reason. (Minsc's apparent death. None of the kids are surprised to see him arrive, so clearly none of them knew he was supposed to be dead - but also there's no way that Jaheira didn't look afterwards like someone hollowed her out from the inside.) Then, without further explanation, she disappeared for what appears to have been several months (again, clearly not standard procedure), and after weeks of no contact, sends a seven-word message indicating she is about to die.

How exactly is Rion supposed to feel at this moment? This is an incredibly emotionally fraught circumstance, and if it's precisely representative of her overall relationship with Jaheira I will eat my hat.

Also - much is made by the game, by Rion, and by the fandom about that seven-word message, but if you try to chastise Jaheira about it, she gives further context:

PLAYER: Only seven? That’s cold, Jaheira. JAHEIRA: The cleric who cast the Sending was wounded. Should I have sobbed on her shoulder?

Jaheira was caught in a no-win situation. Trapped in the Shadowlands, a terrifying ordeal all by itself, with a gaggle of Harpers she had to protect, many of whom had apparently been injured by their encounter with Ketheric Thorm. If the only cleric she had access to was wounded, this was before they reached Last Light and met Isobel. 

Jaheira had ZERO reason to hope at this point - but she also still felt her own inescapable responsibility towards the people under her command. To send a longer and more emotional message would have been to put strain on her injured comrade and also risk making it very clear that she felt the situation was hopeless. The Harpers very well might have broken and scattered, condemning themselves - and, frankly, many others, given their crucial contributions to the final Act 2 fight - to death.

And then she lives, against all her own expectations, and returns to the city. And her dialogue reflects her conflict over this fact as well: 

JAHEIRA: I have given you much reason to think that Harpers hoard secrets like precious stones. But I promise you, this was not some intrigue. Just, ah… plain and simple foolishness. As if by keeping clear of my family, I might keep them clear of the cult in turn. And if this fight were to go against us, well… they had already done their mourning. Why visit it on them twice?

She then goes on to discuss the city and her place in it - and relates it directly back to her kids as well.

JAHEIRA: I was wrong to think I could keep my children from this fight. They’re Baldurian born and bred - the only damned reason I root myself in this place. This city is a cesspit. An open sewer of the soul, that taints us with its filth and churns us out when all that is good has been stripped away. It also happens to be their home - and so it is mine. Ugh. That might be the first time I have said that out loud.

If Jaheira wanted to disappear and leave her kids to handle themselves, she would have done it a long time ago. It wouldn’t be hard; she is fully capable of vanishing into the wilderness never to be seen again - and in truth, there’s every reason to believe she would be considerably happier to do so… except that it would mean leaving her children behind. They “root” her in Baldur’s Gate despite all of her previous inclinations and everything that comes naturally to her, and everything she does is guided ultimately by the need to protect the city because it is their home.

And that, my friends, is love, a love that she shows even if she does not know how to voice it.

TLDR: Jaheira's absence in the Shadowlands was definitely not a normal occurrence, and her kids clearly love her deeply and were devastated by her apparent disappearance. That she is a woman who keeps herself far too busy with work and has no idea how to express her own strong feelings does not, has not, and never will make her a "deadbeat."