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yandere-daydreams · 11 months ago

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Title: Bared Fangs.

Commissioned by the very lovely @ohsotearful.

Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Modern/Serial Killer AU, Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Blood/Gore, Reader Gets Hurt, Obsessive Behavior, Gun Violence, and Unhealthy Relationships. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as Childe asked you if you wanted to go outside.

Honestly, you should’ve known something was wrong as soon as he found you reading in front of his fireplace, as soon as that crooked, schoolboy grin found its way to his lips and he forewent his usual routine of draping himself on top of you like some muscled, zealously homicidal weighted blanket in favor of ruffling your hair and toying with the collar of the flannel you were wearing (his flannel, technically, but you tried not to let yourself acknowledge how accustomed you’d grown to wearing your captor’s clothes or, more troublingly, how long it’d been since the last time you’d felt disgusted by it). “Snow should be done for a couple hours,” he started, nodding towards the frost-coated windows. It might’ve been a more charming sight if not for the scratches carved into the surface of the glass – souvenirs from there the first time you got your hands on one of his axes. “I’m thinking of stepping out, doing a little hunting before the storm kicks up again. Wanna come with me?”

You narrowed your eyes at your book, trying to hide the way your heart beat a little faster at the suggestion of being able to leave his claustrophobic cabin. But, with Childe, you were usually better off staying safely tucked behind the bars of your rustic cage. “Is this going to be a normal hunting trip or a you hunting trip?”

He only hummed. “’fraid I don’t know what you mean by that, princess.”

“Are we going to be hunting animals, or…” You trailed off, swallowing down the bitter taste that came with remembering why you were here. “… or, you know. People, or whatever.”

“This time of year?” He let out an airy laugh, like you’d asked to go skiing in the middle of summer. “There’s nobody on the mountain ’cept me and you.”

Still, you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to try and think beyond your near-overwhelming desire to be anywhere but here. Childe was a murderer, a sadist, a kidnapper, but he wasn’t the type to play mind games. He tended to divide his reality between the world outside – where people could be hunted like quarry, their bodies left to rot in tents and rivers with only the occasional token taken as a keepsake – and the world inside the walls of his cabin – where he sat you down in front of a low-burning fire and told you stories about ice-fishing with his siblings and pouted when you admit his (admittedly, not entirely inedible) cooking could use a little more seasoning. After that first night – the worst night of your fucking life – he seemed to want to keep you resigned to the latter, at least until he came home covered in blood and desperate for something warm and familiar to fuck until he passed out.

Eventually, you sighed, closing your book and sitting up. “Fine. When do we leave?”

His grin widened, head lulling forward as he pressed a kiss into the top of your head. “The front door’s already unlocked. I’ll give you a head start, a full five minutes. Actually, make it ten – just to make it a little more fun for you.”

There was a beat of silence, then another. “Childe, you’re making it sound like you’re—”

“Like I said, there’s nobody on the mountain but me and you.” He pulled away, turning on his heel. “I’ll be nice, too – won’t use anything with more than a twenty-foot range.”

“But, you�� you can’t just—”

“Tick-tock.” He clicked his tongue, winking at you over his shoulder. “Unless you’d rather cut straight to the good part.”

You should’ve known something was wrong, and now, running through the frozen wilderness desperately lost and barely dressed, your ten minutes spent and a killer undoubtedly chasing you down, you were paying the price for it.

You didn’t have time to be tactical. The snow was fresh enough to make every interruption unbearable obvious, meaning that – even if you were willing to stop and spare the seconds it’d take to hide your tracks, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Your only option was to run, but even that was easier said than done. Childe preferred to keep you in a state of hand-crafted domestic bliss, meaning what few clothes you did have were either picked out by or borrowed from him. Currently, all that separated you from the cold was his flannel, an oversized shirt, and a pair of his boots that you’d snagged on your way out. The chill snapped at your cold legs like the teeth of some unseen predator, the frigid air burning holes in your lungs, but the thought of what Childe would do when he caught you was enough to keep your feet moving, to keep you sprinting blindly through the forest. He wouldn’t kill you. You had to believe that he wouldn’t kill you, but—

A high-pitched holler, the sound of branches snapping underfoot and foliage being pushed aside somewhere behind you. You hadn’t stopped running after your first trembling steps away from the cabin, and yet, he couldn’t have been more than a few hundred feet behind you – half a mile, at your most generous guess. You started to curse under your breath, then thought better of it, biting down on your bottom lip with enough force to draw blood and pivoting to the left, where the forest seemed to be just a little thicker. If you couldn’t get away from him, you could at least try to hide before he got to you.

It was a haphazard, half-baked plan that was cruelly and immediately cut short as your foot caught on a root hidden by the snow, tearing away your right boot and leaving you sprawled over the frozen ground. Dampness sunk into your thin clothes, and you shut your eyes, trying to listen for Childe’s footsteps, but there was a reason none of his victims ever seemed to hear him coming. The forest’s minimal white noise was enough to swallow him entirely, the sound of birdsong and distant car engines disguising his presence despite your best attempts to—

Your realization was delayed, but intense.

Cars.

Cars meant roads. Cars meant civilization. Cars meant people, people who could take you away from here, away from Childe. You clambered to your feet, but failed to take so much as a step before a sudden, stabbing pain bit into your calf, your leg immediately buckling underneath you. You would��ve fallen entirely if it hadn’t been for the adrenaline running through your system, numbing the agony and choking the ragged scream that threatened to rise from the pit of your chest into a cracked whimper. It was one of Childe’s arrows – you would’ve been able to recognize that black steel from a mile away – but you didn’t let yourself linger on the implications. With grit teeth and balled fists, you limped forward, leaving a thin trail of crimson in your wake. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been looking, but it was there – a thin, wobbling, unpaved dirt road, only marked by two thin rows of tire tracks that sliced harshly through the otherwise unmarred blanket of snow. God, you never thought you’d be so happy to see dirt.

There wasn’t time to think. You stumbled out of the woods and into the road, the arrow’s head sinking that much deeper with every stuttering movement. The car you’d heard was still there, too; a by-the-numbers sedan, only a few hundred feet down the road. You threw up your arms up, then thought better of it; cupping your shaking hands around your mouth. You moved to call out, but whatever you might’ve said was stolen away from you as something dark flashed across your peripheral and another arrow planted itself in your right shoulder. This time, you crumbled like a dead leaf – broken into pieces by a morning gale.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Childe emerge from the tree line, his crossbow still in-hand. As he came to stand in front of you, your gaze shifted back to the car. You watched, your mind buzzing with pain, as it disappeared around a sharp bend, never so much as slowing down.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you heard Childe coo, wiping away the tears flowing down your cheeks before they could freeze against your skin. “Sorry, princess,” he muttered, his voice low with a painful edge. “I guess I cheated, huh? Couldn’t help it – just knew you’d look so cute all bruised up and bleeding.”

Dropping his crossbow carelessly, he fell to your height. He was dressed for one of his usual hunts; a cut-off shotgun slung over his back, a hunting knife sheathed at his hip. The leather casing of the latter pressed into your side as he dipped lower, burying his face in the crook of your neck and pressing a long, open-mouthed kiss into the base of your throat. You felt his knee settle between your thighs, and weakly, your hands found their way to his chest. “Not here,” you mumbled, more afraid of the chill quickly seeping under your skin than being seen. “It hurts, Childe. I—I think you hit something imp—”

“I’ll be fast.” Another kiss, this one to the exposed skin of your collarbone. His calloused hands skirted over your sides, then your waist, hiking the thin fabric of your oversized shirt up to your midriff. You were already past the point of total numbness, and yet, the rough gravel beneath the snow cut harshly into your exposed skin. Rather than distracting you from the pain in your calf, your shoulder, it only seemed to draw more attention to your bleeding wounds, only seemed to make it harder to ignore the dull heat of Childe’s mouth against your chest. “Gotta take you out more often. You’re always beautiful, but I didn’t know you’d look this pretty.”

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. His arrow burnt into the tattered skin of your calf as his hands fell to your legs, groping at the plush of your thighs playfully before shifting his attention to the fly of his jeans. You knew what he wanted, he’d always been transparent, but the sound of shifting fabric, the sight of his rosy-tipped, stiff cock pressing flush against his stomach – that was enough for the loose coil of dread writhing in the pit of your chest to tighten into a tight, jagged knot of pure terror. You tried to sit up, to make your refusal that much more apparent, but Childe only caught you by your uninjured shoulder, shoving you into the ground with enough force to earn a pained scowl, a fractured whimper. His only response was a wordless, vaguely sympathetic noise, a softened lull to his wide smile. “No skipping out on this, babydoll. I can’t guarantee you’ll end up in one piece if I have to wait ‘till we get home.”

It was a fair warning, but anything he could have said would’ve been lost on you. Your heart was beating in your ears, blocking out any other sound. Pools of red blood and piles of limp bodies flashed across your vision and desperately, futilely, you clawed at the hand on your shoulder, kicked at his chest, thrashed underneath him like an animal unaware that resistance would only make the predator want to drive its teeth that much deeper. It was more Childe’s divided attention than your strength, but your heel found his side and, just for a moment, he slipped, letting out a soft grunt as the hand pinning you down fell away. You were scrambling onto your knees in a second, attempting to get your feet underneath you in another, but your little stunt was cut short as Childe lashed out, wrapping his arm around your neck and forcing your stomach against the ground. There was no whimpering, anymore – just a ragged, ear-piercing scream as his free hand found the arrow in your shoulder, tearing it out of you in one clean, unfaltering motion. His only response came in the form of a throaty moan; deep and terrible and followed immediately by the feeling of his cock against your dry cunt. You would’ve begged him to stop, offered to let him do anything he wanted to you if he just didn’t do this, but he didn’t give you time to bargain. Without hesitation, he thrust into you, bottoming out in the same motion.

Trembling sobs tore at your throat and past your lips, tears now flowing unabashedly down your cheeks. Childe kept his full weight against your back as he fucked into you with short, sharp thrusts – never happy unless he was burying himself in the deepest pocket of your poor, freezing pussy. Rather than desensitizing you, letting you fall back into some distant state of nonexistence, the snow seemed to burn where it was pressed into your cheek, your chest. You wished he would’ve taken off the rest of your clothes. You wished he would’ve just shot his stupid arrows into your skull and put you out of your misery.

It shouldn’t have felt good, you didn’t want it to feel good, but your body didn’t know that. Your cunt clenched and drooled around him, trying in vain to turn his assault into something you could enjoy, but the way he grunted into your ear snuffed out any pleasure you might’ve been able to feel. “Tryin’ to pull me back in,” he muttered, his voice already airy, already strung out. You couldn’t help but wonder if, had you only been able to run from him for another minute, he would’ve found something else to shove his dick into and left you out here to freeze to death. “Is that your goal? Wanna – Fuck, wanna help me warm you up?”

His hands fell to your hips, pulling your ass flush against his hips and letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much more brutally. Your injured leg grated against the dirt of the road and you cried out, your voice ragged and barely coherent. “St— Hurts, stop, stop, please, stop—”

“That’s it, always making such pretty sounds for me.” He buried his face in the dip of your shoulder. “Sometimes, it feels like all I wanna do it cut you open and crawl—”

He was interrupted by the dull roar of an approaching engine and something brightened inside of you, your eyes shifting towards the road, towards the well-beaten pick-up truck speeding in your direction. The breaks screeched as you and Childe came into the driver’s view, and for a second, you let yourself go slack underneath him, relief overwhelming your better judgement.

Childe wasn’t so sentimental.

His shotgun was in his hand before you could so much as process that he’d moved. Wordlessly, he fired off two shots; the first to the windshield on the driver’s side and the second to one of the front tires. You watched on helplessly as your last hope for salvation bucked, swerved, then veered off of the road entirely, catching on a snowbank and turning over once before crashing into the trunk of an oak that failed to so much as shake under the force of the collision. It was quieter than you’d expected it to be, the only sounds that of shattering glass and crunching metal. If there were survivors, no one screamed, or called for help, or came stumbling out of the wreckage. Childe’s breath hitched in his throat, his pace growing that much more erratic as he buckled into you – his pointed canines finding the tender junction at the base of your throat and burying themselves in your skin. It was less a love-bite and more an effort to eat you alive. What little blood he didn’t lap up washed over your chest, melting the frost and mixing into the snow beneath you. “Look—” He groaned, tried and failed to pull away from you. His voice reverberated against the curve of your neck as he went on. “Look what you turn me into, princess. Got me making all kinds of messes for you.”

Blood. Bodies. The taste of his cum on your tongue as your friends bled out under the same roof. You would’ve choked the air in your lungs if you’d been able to breathe, but there was no point lingering on pleasant hypotheticals. There were no distractions from the feeling of Childe’s hips grating against yours, the way his cock twitched as settled against you. A guttural moan tore past his lips as something thick and searing flooded into you, and you refused to let yourself acknowledge that this was the warmest you’d felt in days.

You stayed there, limp and frozen and miserable, as Childe pulled away from you, pulled out of you. Your eyes fell shut as he stumbled to his feet, your skin too numb to feel anything aside from the pressure of his arms around your motionless body. He pulled you against his chest, then let out a low whistle. “Might’ve gone a little overboard there. Sorry ‘bout that, princess.” A low chuckle, a gentle squeeze. “I just can’t help it, not when it comes to you. You’ll forgive me after a warm bath, right?”

You didn’t answer. The arrow in your calf must’ve fallen out, or maybe not – you couldn’t feel anything below your knees. Your hands felt like dead weight too, utterly disconnected from anything you might’ve used to control them, but every drop of panic, every ounce of horror – that all paled in comparison to the never-ending pit of pitch-black loathing that formed in your chest as you stared up at Childe. You hated him, wanted to see him torn apart with his own stockpile of weapons, but you really couldn’t blame him. Not for this, at least.

You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as the monster bared its fangs.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere childe #childe x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 12 days ago

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⋆⭒˚.⋆ my boyfriend ranks... ⋆⭒˚.⋆

(cw: f!reader, cursing, TikTok trend, sex related joke)

It had been a lazy Sunday spent rotting away in fratboy!Jaehyun's bed while he and the brothers had a chapter meeting downstairs. Technically, you weren't even supposed to be in the house, but you were tens of feet away and realistically, who were you going to tell about all the stuff you might happen to hear a whole floor away? Absolutely no one. They only ever talked about boring shit anyway. No one would be interested.

All that paired with the fact that you had had a splitting headache shortly after you arrived and you were knocked out cold when the meeting started. None of the guys had the heart to wake you up to ask you to leave. Plus, you were a member of the frat, even if it was a sort of honorable title.

You scrolled through your for you page, stopping to watch as a couple tried out a filter. The guy ranked different types of physical touch he'd be ok with guys doing with his girlfriend. You laughed at the boyfriend's reactions quietly, deciding that you wanted to try it with Jaehyun.

Just a few minutes later, you heard steps as the brothers returned to their rooms. Jaehyun's door creaked open slowly as he crept in, probably thinking you were still asleep.

"Hey, baby," you greeted in a hoarse voice.

He flinched in surprise before he turned to you with a soft smile, "hey sweetheart, feeling better?"

You nodded, "tons better. It doesn't feel like someone is whacking the back of my head with a sledgehammer anymore. Come cuddle me?"

You didn't have to tell Jaehyun twice, he was kicking off his sneakers and getting rid of his jeans as fast as he could. He was at your side and pulling you to rest against his chest as fast as he could. He was breathless as he flicked on the lamp on his bedside table before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I want to do something with you," you started, grabbing your phone from your side.

"You have to change your password before we make a sex tape. I don't want Haechan accidentally watching you like that or to watch us go at it intentionally," Jaehyun casually interrupts.

You swat at his chest, "I don't want to make a sex tape you pervert. I want to do another tiktok with you."

"This is going to be bad isn't it?"

"It depends on the filter," you giggle as you tap away at the screen. You click the filter and choose the appropriate length of time while Jaehyun ruffles his hair to perfection.

You start the video, holding it at an appropriate distance away, "so you have to rank different forms of affection you'd be ok with another guy doing to me."

"Like a family member or a random guy?" Jaehyun asks while the filter cycles through different options.

"However you decide to think about it-- ok, so the first one is a bath."

"Fuck no, number 10. Immediately," Jaehyun mumbles. "Next is hair... mmm number 3 I guess. You and Yuta do each other's hair all the time, so I'm already used to it."

You smile at him as the filter then lands on tickling, immediate 9 since you hate to be tickled. A comforting hug? A 5 as long as it's a quick one. A piggy back ride? 6 since you ask Johnny for those when you start drinking a little too much. Getting your cheeks squeezed? No, too cutesy-- number 8. A pat on the cheek? Too weird, number 7.

As he starts running out of open ranking spots, he starts to get more frustrated. "A massage? No, I don't want anyone massaging you! 4! Riding on someone's shoulders, no-- but ugh! I guess it has to be 2."

You both watch as the final form of affection comes to a stop on Jaehyun's forehead, you immediately burst out into laughter. Jaehyun laughs with you and the phone shakes.

"Oh this would have been number one anyway," Jaehyun manages to get out, "Mark would love this shit."

"Freak!" You screech as you end the video.

You both calm down, catching your breath as you rewatch the video, your free hand wiping away the tears at the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard.

Jaehyun nuzzles the top of your head with another groan, "don't make me do one of these again, please."

"As if you can tell me no," you snort out a laugh, "you know I will. And you'll say yes, because you love me."

"You can't keep using that against me."

"You act like I torture you. Oh noooo! My girlfriend makes me do funny videos with her, boohoo. I can walk out of this room and find at least three people, probably more, to do them instead of you."

His hold tightens around you as you hit post, "you're not doing these videos with anyone else."

"Jealous baby," you tease, placing a kiss to his t-shirt covered chest.

"You're annoying."

"Yeah, yeah, you love me."

visual of Jaehyun's rankings below the cut

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #fratboy!jaehyun #frat!jaehyun #frat!nct #jaehyun blurb #jaehyun drabbles #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenarios

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roseykat · 1 year ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 5

TITLE: Eat, sleep, play.

PAIRING: Minho x Jisung x reader

SUMMARY: an established poly relationship between you and Minsung, along with an account of what Jisung likes to call ‘play time’.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: pre-established poly relationship, bondage, unprotected sex, blowjobs, swearing, oral sex (f!receiving and m!receiving), a dash of bratty yet sub-Jisung, sub reader, ball gags, cum eating.

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @lizzekat @queenmea604 🩷🩷🩷

“I wanna eat her out,” Jisung mutters, unable to take his eyes off of your bound body. It was almost like he was truly hungry, nearly salivating.

Minho looks down at you but not with a gaze of pity. He just spent the last five minutes binding your body with rope; your legs are bent at your sides as you lie on your back, and your wrists are tied to your ankles. To top it off, Minho had stuffed your mouth with a ball gag. It wasn’t necessarily for punishment, but mainly because he likes being mean.

“I did have other plans for the both of you, but I guess we can start that after.”

For a moment Jisung wondered what exactly those plans were. It’s always exciting to not know what’s coming next and with Minho, nine times out of ten, it’s something mind blowing. He can adapt to Jisung’s desires and decides to sit cross legged on the bed behind you. So Minho scoots underneath your head so that you’re nearly in his lap. It gives him a better view of Jisung and what he’s about to do to you.

Jisung lies on the bed tummy first, his mouth ready to be put to use in between your legs. The warmth of his breath is a subtle relief followed by the tender kisses he places on each inner thigh, slowly inching down to your clit. Just when he does, your eyes are already fluttering back.

“Mmm!”

Minho smirks down at you, “can’t say anything now can you?”

Jisung wraps his hands around your upper thighs to bring your pussy closer to his face. The feel of his wet, hot tongue lapping and sucking sends you into a state of oversensitivity. He’s always been good at giving head, same with Minho, so you always count yourself lucky with two partners who are good at what they do.

His mouth has you moaning like a whore around the ball gag, even though neither of them can audibly hear you as properly. Your legs are already shivering and shaking from the pleasure that’s beginning to surge throughout your body. To top it off, Minho makes his hands useful by rolling your nipples in between his thumbs and fingers. The nervy reaction forces your head back into Minho’s lap, trying to cry out as much as possible.

“Baby girl likes that doesn’t she?” Minho asks, pinching and tugging at the sensitive buds to make you scream into the gag.

Your chest starts heaving quicker and quicker, a sign to Minho that you’re about to cum, and just before you do, he has to yank Jisung by his hair to stop him from achieving that. His head lifts up from your pussy, his mouth glistening unashamely with your juices as his eyes looked dazed and spaced out.

“That’s enough,” Minho warns. “I said you could eat her out, I never said you were allowed to make her cum.”

Jisungs happens to take a lot of pride in making you orgasm. He thinks it’s the most fascinating yet cute thing at the same time. He enjoys watching you shake, scream, cry, shiver, moan - all of the above when you cum. It’s something he has that really emulates the characteristics of a ‘giver’ even though he himself is, the majority of the time, a ‘receiver’.

“Don’t be mean to her like that,” he whines. “Wanted to feel her cum.”

“Not yet,” Minho halts. “For now, you’re going to fuck her.”

Jisung’s eyes light up once more as he props himself up onto his knees while Minho slides out from behind you and takes a seat on the chair next to the bed so he can watch. Having been achingly hard in his pants since the scene began, Jisung starts to feel waves of relief when he’s able to take his dick out. You watch him eagerly with your last line of patience.

“C’mere baby,” he murmurs, almost like he’s tipsy.

Jisung’s cock is somewhat thick and has the perfect length and curve that it’s enough to make you cum like you’ve never before each and every single time. He gets excited just thinking about it as he rubs the tip of his cock in between your wet folds. Minho crosses one leg over the other as he watches the pair of you, seeing Jisung unintentionally tease your entrance with his cock; only pushing in less than an inch and slowly retracting out.

It doesn’t matter how much preparation they both put you through, it’s not nearly enough to get you ready for how filling it feels for when Jisung is fully inside of you.

He squeezes a small dollop of the lube that was pulled out earlier from the bedside table and runs some of the product on his length and some around your pussy.

The reintroduction of his touch makes you groan, desperate and longing for more that soon comes when he starts to push inside of you.

“Yes, fuck oh my god,” Jisung mumbles incoherently. “Can never get over this pussy, feels unreal.”

Heat always rises to your cheeks whenever one of them praises your body. For whatever reason, it gets you to cum quicker. Minho found that out when they were both fucking you once and wouldn’t stop commenting about how gorgeous you looked taking both of them at the same time. Needless to say the mess you made on them was a sign.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’m going to last,” Jisung starts fucking you shallowly and slowly, not wanting to put in all of his energy into his thrusts in case he cums too early.

“Lean some more of your weight down to fill her out,” Minho instructs, turning Jisung’s spaced out face into a look of irritation.

He was just basking in the sensation of wet heat wrapping around him. Despite the context of the scene, Jisung feels very comfortable. He could stay buried inside of you for as long as you’d let him. In saying that, his submissiveness always bends for Minho’s orders. That, fortunately for him, is just how the both of you are built.

So Jisung listens and leaned further down into your body. Just that subtle adjustment in the position makes you twist from the waist up at how deep Jisung’s cock is now filling you. It brings a sick smile to his face when your moans get louder around the ball gag. The only method of dealing with the pleasure is clenching your fists at your ankles. Even that isn’t enough to manage it.

“Fuck her like you mean it Jisung,” Minho snaps, growing impatient with how his boyfriend is performing.

Jisung lowers himself down onto both of his elbows, resting more of his weight on top of your body. It allows him to slide in deeper, filling you right out that it squeezes a series of raspy moans from the base of your throat that are muted by the gag. Jisung visibly shudders when he bottoms out, feeling like if he thrusts a few more times, he’ll cum in an instant.

“Can you believe him?” He asks you in your ear, staring at Minho at the same time. “Telling me what to do.”

His tone and volume were deliberate and provoked a reaction from Minho. He stands up from his seat with force, walks over to you both with an agitated gait and expression before grabbing a fistful of Jisung’s hair and yanking it back.

“Do I have to shut you up with a ball gag too?” He questions.

Jisung grins, thriving in the sting spreading around his scalp, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

Minho’s eye twitches. Out of you and Jisung, Minho would have to say that Jisung can be the brattiest at the worst of times, and you at the best of times. You’ll play up here and there, but Jisung has a tendency to not listen at all until Minho completely subdues him. If Jisung is still talking by the end of a session, Minho hasn’t done enough work to put him in his place.

“Course you wouldn’t,” Minho releases his hand. “That’s because you’re a fucking slut.”

Jisung’s eyes glaze over, darkening as Minho speaks to him in such a degrading tone. It’s the only method of taming him; degradation and manhandling - the only ways to get Jisung off his high horse. His brain stalls and submits whenever Minho calls him types of names, treats him like a whore, even sometimes when he’s neglected in bed.

His method of control when it comes to you needs to be an equal balance of degradation, bondage, and physicality - whether that’s pain play, clamps, orgasm torture, maybe a tantalising mixture of all three.

Over the years that you’ve all been together, he's figured you both out.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it Jisung?” He asks him.

“Y-Yes,” he stammers before Minho releases and gives his head a bit of a shove - not too hard, but just enough for a lewd smile to grow on Jisung’s face.

“Get out of her,” Minho orders. “On your knees.”

“But-”

“Now,” he says threateningly, cutting his boyfriend's words short. “Wanna keep talking, might as well put that mouth of yours to use.”

Jisung licks his lips and swallows. He gently pulls out of you as you moan at the loss. Minho unbuckles the restraints that have been keeping your legs separate, and your ankles bound to your hands. Even though it feels good to be out of the same position, you miss the heavy feeling of being restrained. The idea of not being able to move itches a part of your brain that you didn’t know existed - especially when you’re being physically and literally bound to cum.

Even though you’re free now, you still behave obediently and follow through with whatever Minho says.

“Please fuck me instead,” Jisung mumbles with deep doughy eyes that can make just about anyone fold.

Not Minho though. Not when he’s in an unshakeable mindset as he manhandles Jisung onto his back on the bed with so much ease, pinning his wrists next to his head, “you’ve already asked for too much tonight. You can just take whatever I decide to give you.”

Jisung pouts. While he wallows in the sadness of the hope to get railed, Minho tends back to you to untie all the rope. When he’s finished, he places it to one side and unlatches the buckle to the ball gag from behind your head. A long line of saliva connects from your lips and the device that was used to keep you from talking. Minho likes seeing it though. A sick and twisted part of him almost makes him want to spit in your mouth.

“You, on your knees too,” he says to you before you join Jisung on the floor, waiting patiently.

“W-Why can’t you fuck me?” You ask him.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” Minho asks you back.

“Yes but-“

“Good girls do what they’re told the first time they’re asked to do something,” he cuts you mid sentence right away. He’s not about to put up with an attitude from you right now. Not when he’s this horny.

Minho sits on the edge of the bed, unzips his pants to reveal his cock already leaking with pre-cum at the tip. Both you and Jisung are keen to get your mouths around your boyfriend's cock, almost salivating when you see it.

“Open,” Minho instructs.

There’s no time either of you waste trying to blow him. You use your mouths as if you were both made for it - made to please him. So you take turns in taking as much of his cock as you both can down your throats. Minho’s hands bunch into fists, gripping the sheets beneath him as his head tips back. Without looking at either of you, the lewd, wet sounds and the hot sensation of your mouths are enough to keep him going.

Then again, he enjoys watching you work. So he brings his head back up, taking a look at Jisung who’s eagerly waiting for his turn while you use your mouth up and down Minho’s length. He pets under Jisung’s chin and caresses the side of your face at the same time. But when his high approaches fast, he resorts to gripping a fistful of your hair instead.

"So fucking good," Minho grunts through his gritted teeth. Jisung listens to you being praised and scooches closer so that he can try to get his mouth around Minho's cock too.

"Fuck!" He groans. "That's it...making me cum."

In a matter of seconds, Minho doesn't hold back. Both you and Jisung peel off of him as he paints both of your faces with strings of white, warm cum. Minho has always been a 'heavy load' type of guy which is a godsend for people like you and Jisung who don't dare to waste any of it.

As Minho descends from his dizzy, euphoric high, it gives him a bit of time to absorb the mess he's made before him. Jisung uses his thumb to carefully swipe some of Minho's jizz from your lips and gets you to suck it off.

He then gently slides his hand across the underside of your face to the side of your head where he pulls you in to kiss him. That kiss quickly turns into a heated and aggressive makeout where Jisung pins you on your back to the floor.

“On the floor?” Minho raises a brow, trying not to smile while he catches his breath.

It only occurs to him now as Jisung is holding you down that you both must be desperate for each other to fuck on the ground. Despite the mess, neither of you cares about it. You can taste Minho on Jisung’s tongue and vice versa. The instigator sitting on the edge of the bed thinks it’s equally as hot, but not a surprise.

"Fuck me," you whimper when you break free from each other momentarily. "Hurry, please."

"Shh," Jisung hushes with a shaky breath as he aligns the tip of his cock with your entrance once more.

It's not before long until Jisung actually starts fucking you properly this time. Earlier on, he never had the proper chance to after being interrupted by Minho. That's only because his ego interfered. Now he can fuck you as if it's the last thing he's ever going to do.

It's a pleasure for Minho to sit back and enjoy watching you both fuck until you’re shaking around each other. He just loves this - seeing you both rabid with lust that nothing else matters. Minho reckons if anyone were to just walk into the room, that wouldn’t stop you and Jisung from fucking. If anything, he thinks Jisung would probably go harder.

The thought gives him a naughty idea.

He knows what happens when you’re both needy at the exact same time. It’s always Minho trying to train two untamed animals just going at each other or him. However, Minho will never complain because there is no reason to. He appreciates the level of need you both have for each other, for him as well. That’s what makes the relationship tick, is that love is distributed equally and at high volumes.

"R-Right there," you mutter, eyelids fluttering as Jisung rocks into you repeatedly. "Cumming...gonna cum."

You bite down into the skin of his shoulder, trying so hard not to scream from the way he’s making you cum. Jisung on the other hand is the opposite - moaning like a slut when he runs face first into an eye-rolling orgasm.

“Yes, yes! Fuck…making me cum so fucking hard…” Jisung wrestles the words out of his mouth before moans start ripping his throat.

Neither of you had orgasmed any quicker. If it weren’t for Minho and his deliberate teasing, both you and Jisung would’ve taken longer to cum. Instead, your walls are spasming around Jisung’s cock when it shoots a hot load inside of you.

You’re clinging onto him when he cums, hearing him so vocal always turns you on - same with Minho. It’s a sign that they feel good, and that’s always the hope whenever they stuff you to the hilt.

"Holy shit," Jisung is panting, almost like he just swam to the surface for air. His hips slow down to a reasonable pace, dragging in and out of you for as long as he can before he pulls out.

From the bed still witnessing all the antics unfold, Minho can't help but watch the way Jisung's cum slowly leaks out of you. It almost makes him wish he was hard enough again to fuck it back into you. But he knows there's probably another time for that.

"You both okay?" Minho asks.

Your hand rests on your head, still splayed on the floor, "mm."

Jisung doesn't answer verbally, but gives a silent nod.

"Okay, I’ll help you both up and we can head to the bathroom so I can clean you up,” Minho adds. “That sound okay? Then afterwards, I’ll order us some food and we can relax for the rest of the evening.”

“Sounds perfect,” Jisung replies.

A/N: I swear I'm not useless by not uploading lol as I mentioned in another post, I've been so busy with work that it's just not even funny. I will still power on with Kinktober though! Once again, thank you for supporting my work and being patient with me! xxx

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #bang chan smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut

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saltnsugarbear · 21 days ago

Text

I love when we get freaky on camera (18+)

summary: Lip has a gift he wants to share on stream!

title from: "Cyber Sex" by Doja Cat

word count: 1.4k

content warnings: MDNI!!! rabbit vibrator makes a comeback (haha), so like slight mommy kink but in the chat not from Lip or reader, afab reader genitalia, mentions of a pocket pussy/fleshlight,

divider by @strangergraphics

You are going to hell. Okay, maybe hell is a bit extreme. But you are definitely fucked.

You told yourself you would stop tuning in to Lip's streams. You promised yourself.

However, you are... Not the strongest when it came to him. It didn't help you had to see him at work every day, and it really didn't help that, on the rare occasion, he talked to you with the same tone he used on stream. The same tone when he was teasing his chat about how they were so needy.

You wasted little time getting your computer set up five minutes before Lip went live. You had gotten used to his schedule by now, 10pm three times a week. You don't know how he did it or where he hosted these streams three nights a week when he still lived with all his siblings, but you weren't going to complain.

This one started the same as usual, Lip spent the first five to ten minutes catching up and palming himself over his boxers. You followed your own routine, turning on your vibrator and using it to tease yourself first.

"Got a few uh-" Lip huffs slightly, reaching off screen to grab something. "Got a few things gifted this week. Wanted t'use them tonight.."

What Lip brings onto camera makes you inhale sharply, bucking up into your vibrator. In his hands, he's got... Well, you're not entirely sure, eyes flitting around the screen, taking in his hands and his arms and his chest.

"Been lookin' at this one lately, so uh..." He huffs softly. "Thanks for the uh... Hah well the pocket pussy.."

You can tell by the tone in his voice that he rolled his eyes at the name. You have the luxury of knowing what he looks like, being able to guess what he looks like when he...

Lip ducks so the lower part of his face is on screen, his mouth, and his nose captured just before you could see his eyes. All you can do is watch when he opens his mouth, spitting onto the toy. You whine softly, jutting your hips to start slipping the toy into your entrance.

On screen, Lip removes one of his hands from the toy, slipping two fingers into his mouth. The chat box on the side is going wild, pinging rapidly with donations. Your eye catches on a few of them; so fucking hot, take mommy's fingers like a good boy, please just fuck it already...

When he removes his fingers, he spits on the toy again before he starts spreading his saliva along the slit of the toy. The slick sound as he slips his finger into the toy has you pushing the tip of the rabbit dildo farther into you. The initial stretch is always uncomfortable, but it's quickly forgotten once the toy is all the way in. Once it's there, you don't hesitate to start the actual rabbit part of the vibrator, watching as Lip adds a second finger into the toy.

He's fingering it for show, and it's damn near sinful. He doesn't need to fuck the toy with his fingers, he knows this and you know this and the fucking chat probably knows this. But the way he's thrusting two fingers in slowly is driving you wild.

The sound of him fucking the toy is pure filth. At this point, your toy is doing all the work as you lay and watch. Rutting your hips up into the rabbit to hit just right.

You've lost count of how many times you've come around the vibrator, turning off the rabbit when the overstimulation becomes painful but leaving it buzzing inside of you still. The most work your hand is doing is trying to adjust the position of the toy, twisting it this way and that way in hopes of hitting the right spot.

"Think this'll be enough?" Lip asks. He doesn't really expect an answer, but he always asks anyway. You watch as Lip stands up, slipping off his boxers and letting his cock spring free.

The sight always makes your jaw drop, exhaling softly and rutting your hips up into the rabbit. You watch as he settles back down, dick standing at attention for the stream to see. Lip spits into his hand, taking his saliva and gripping himself at the base. He works the spit over all of him, giving his cock a few extra tugs before he spits on the toy again. Whatever he sees at the slit makes him sigh heavily.

"Fuck- Don't think- Don't think y're gonna be able t'take it-" Lip hasn't even started trying to breach the entrance of the toy. His head is lined up against the entrance as he rubs it along the slit gently.

Watching him sink into the toy slowly feels like a religious experience. You want to replay that moment over and over again for as long as you can. The way he groans as he slides in does little to tame your thoughts, his head pokes out of the end of it when he reaches the hilt.

His breathing sounds ragged as he pauses. You can see the way his arm is shaking slightly with what you assume to be self restraint.

"Fuck-" He swears, head dropping so his nose is in frame. Lip's mouth is open as he tries to catch his breath at the feeling.

"So fuckin- so fuckin tight.." He grunts, bucking his hips slightly.

You are so fucked.

Your walls contract hard around the fake dick inside of you, causing the rabbit to tap against your clit making you whine softly.

Lip pulls out of the toy, groaning as he does so. You watch him adjust his hand, covering the open end of the toy before he slides back in.

"Shit- So- Fuck-" He breathes out heavily. You want so badly to be the thing he's fucking into, in this moment you'd say fuck it and even let him film while he's fucking you.

You're not sure what possesses you, but you're patting around your bed for your phone. When your hand hits the hard plastic, you grab your phone quickly, unlock it and open your messages, and look for your conversation with Lip. Your hands are shakey as you type.

You: Busy?

If you type anything else, you might give yourself away. You watch the stream closely. You've never really messaged Lip unless it was to get something to Fiona after her phone died.

Lip's head turns, his chest heaving in an attempt to catch his breath.

"Fuck.." He mutters softly, and you must have imagined the way his hips buck up slightly. One of his hands slips away from its grip on the toy, and within seconds, you get a response.

Lip: No

Lip: Why?

It's such a blatant lie, but there's no way you'd know if you hadn't already found his stream. So you play along.

You: Looking to score

You: A pre roll. Looking for a pre roll, should have specified

Lip huffs softly on camera, starting his movements again as he fucks into the toy.

Lip: No way you'd be able to buy from me with what we get paid

You can hear him pick up his pace, bringing his other hand to help move the toy along his shaft.

You: I could pay another way?

Lip groans in your headphones, and you can't help the way you buck into the toy still buzzing inside of you.

Lip: Another way?

You: Whatever you want

"Shit-" Lip grunts. "Shit, shit.."

You can see his release seeping out of the toy, covering his palm and creating a ring around the base of him. Your walls contract around your toy at the sight, inhaling sharply.

Lip ends the stream abruptly, not staying to clean up or do any of his other Saturday night stream routine.

Lip: Whatever I want?

Lip: That covers a lot of area

You huff, sitting up to pull the toy out of you. You message him quickly before you start cleaning yourself up.

You: Within reason

You're slipping on your underwear when your phone pings with his response.

Lip: I think I can come up with a few ideas

Lip: Meet at Patsy's?

You: Yeah

You: Don't come up with any dirty ideas

You wouldn't mind if he did choose a dirty idea, but you're not going to risk your relationship at work by saying that. Your phone pings with the last message he sends you for the night.

Lip: ;)

#saltnsugarbear #too much salt (18+)#saltnsugarbear promptober #wet dream [ series ]#lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher fanfic #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fanfiction #shameless imagines #shameless fanfiction

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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago

Text

[part two] trouble - takuma ino

word count: 9k warnings: swearing, drinking, slight harassment (a creep puts his hand on reader's waist for 0.2 seconds) summary: she's only agreed to one night out- and that doesn't mean anything at all. it also doesn't mean anything that a few drinks has her admitting that ino's eyes are actually quite pretty. contents: rivals to begrudged friends, gojo!reader, nanami leaves the function at his first oppurtunity, ino and (y/n) have an alcohol fueled breakthrough.

part two: "got so much to prove" ___

Gojo Satoru was nothing like his sibling counterpart, and she was dead set on keeping it that way. Where he was overbearing, she was uninvolved. Where he was obnoxious, she was reserved. For most of her life she could recall trying to steer herself into the opposite direction Satoru was heading.

That was, until it came to sorcery.

If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t have needed to crawl up a ladder to claim the Grade One title. If it weren’t for him, she could’ve made a name for herself rather than live in the shadow that was their family name. If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be stuck in this too-loud bar throwing back too-weak drinks.

Nanami didn’t seem too thrilled about having his evening decided for him, either. He was nursing his third beer and the alcohol still hadn’t loosened him enough to lose the look of pure disinterest on his face. (y/n) couldn’t blame him, seeing as she didn’t want to be here either.

Takuma, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He’d eagerly ordered them a round of shots despite their protests, claiming it was a right of passage for their first outing together.

“I’m not taking a shot,” Nanami had pushed his glass to the center of the table, refusing it as soon as it was set in front of him. “I have to be home by eight”

“Eight?” Takuma gasped incredulously at his early retirement. “But Gojo’s car won’t be here till eleven-”

“Dibs” (y/n) plucks the extra shot off the counter, tapping it once against the table before throwing it back with ease.

The other two are left to stare at her in shock, neither knowing how to react. She’s quick to chase it down with her own shot in rapid succession, not a single flinch or twitch from the burning sensation left in her throat. Nanami and Takuma share a quick glance, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by the young Gojo.

“What?” She asks innocently, propping her elbow on the table to rest her chin in her hand. “Been a long week, no?”

“It’s just… Satoru doesn’t drink” Nanami shrugs at the simple statement, leaning back against his chair.

(y/n) pauses, her brow twitching in the smallest of movements.

Even without him around, she was being compared to him. And hearing it come from Nanami, whom she’d spent years looking up to, snapped her final straw.

“Right…” She drawls the word out slowly, and Nanami waits all too patiently for whatever she had to say next. “Well since it is our first outing, let’s establish this once and for all, shall we?”

And then she grins, which sends warning flags up in Takuma’s mind when she leaves the table and approaches the bar. He turns back to Nanami with his worry evident on his face.

“That’s not good,” He says in a hushed voice. “I’ve only ever seen her smile like that when exorcizing curses”

Nanami only chuckles half heartedly, more than familiar with the way the Gojo siblings’ shared wicked grin.

Ino’s not so amused, but he does his best to get excited when (y/n) comes back with a stronger drink and another round of shots for the three of them. Nanami refuses this one as well, and this time they let it sit on the center of the table unclaimed.

To his surprise, she taps her shot glass against Ino’s when he picks it up, eyeing the auburn liquid with uncertainty. This would be his second shot in the span of only ten minutes, and it would be her third. There had to be some ploy behind it, right?

“Whatever it takes to prove to you both I’m not my brother, name it,” (y/n) announces before throwing back the shot. “It can be like a game!” She decides, eyes lighting up with the idea. If she notices the way Nanami and Ino seem unsure and uncomfortable with the sudden swing in behavior, she doesn’t show it.

“A drinking game?” Ino asks, not quite following her train of thought.

“Sure,” She nods at him. “Like a truth or drink sort of thing? That works”

“I’ve got one, then,” Nanami leans back onto the table, suddenly joining the conversation. His pupils seem surprised, but both excited in their own way to have him participate “That Grade Two at the playground, last week, did you lie in your paperwork?”

A more authentic looking beam stretches over (y/n’s) face, and she laughs as she considers taking a drink, but she supposes he’d have his answer if she did, so she might as well fess up.

“About the swingset being torn apart?” She asks with a raised brow. “Yes, I lied about that”

“You lied in your report?” Ino gasps in shock. “What’d you say?”

“She claimed the swings had been torn away from their posts before she arrived on the scene” Nanami explained with a huff.

That earned another gasp from Ino before he turned back to (y/n) with wide eyes and an awkward sort of smile, like he was excited to have caught her in something, even though she’d admitted to it herself.

“You chopped down a children’s playground?”

“It was a swingset,” She corrected. “And it’s structural integrity was fine. The city could afford to replace the swing itself. It’s practically just rope”

Nanami shakes his head, although he’d already had an inkling her report on that assignment was less than truthful. He had stopped by to take account of the damage done, and it seemed to him like the scraped metal of the playset’s structure could have only been chinked up by a large blade. Like an axe.

A few more random questions come up between the two, most of them work related. The questions are all over the place however, with Nanami trying to get her to admit to more discrepancies in her paperwork, and Ino trying to learn anything and everything he could. So she never quite knew what was going to be asked of her.

More often than not, Nanami’s questions led to her drinking. Whereas Ino’s…

“Do you have any tattoos?”

She wants to laugh, and ask him if he’s sure that’s what he wants to know. But Nanami’s already got her another two drinks down, so she finds herself lifting up the hem of her shirt, just enough to put her hip bone on display, earning shocked looks from both men as they stared holes into the ink on her skin.

“When did you get that?” Nanami asks, his eyebrows nearly to his hairline when (y/n) looks up at him with a lazy smirk.

“I was sixteen, and you weren’t around at the time” She states matter-of-factly.

Ino’s laughing, and maybe cheering as he throws back the rest of his drink and makes his way to the bar for another. (y/n) wouldn’t admit that she was having a good time, but it was quite entertaining to watch their reactions.

“That’s enough insight for tonight” Nanami sighs before getting up from his seat. (y/n) watches as he lifts his jacket from the back of his chair, loosely shrugging it on. A small knot forms between her brows.

“You’re actually gonna leave?” She asks, and if he didn’t know any better, Nanami might think she’s frowning because she’s disappointed to see him leave.

“I’ve already stayed later than I planned,” He answers dryly. “But you should stay, Ino too,” He adds, nodding to the sorcerer at the bar desperately trying to get the bartender’s attention. “Make your brother pick up the tab”

“He said it was on you” (y/n) replies with a shrug, before taking a sip of her drink.

Nanami rolled his eyes as he turned to go, grumbling something about how a Gojo could be trying to pass off the bill. (y/n’s) laughing as he leaves, and he’s almost compelled to stay, just for the sake of watching her open up more than he’d seen in years, but he supposes he’s not the one who needs that tonight.

Ino’s surprised when he comes back to the table with a fresh drink and hand, only to find Nanami missing. He glances at the empty seat with a furrowed brow before turning to (y/n), who shrugs.

“Guess he wasn’t kidding about turning in early” She muses, pushing the ice in her glass with her straw. Ino seems to pout at that.

“Too bad, I thought we were having a good time” He says as he takes his seat across from her.

(y/n) regards him with a slight tilt of her head, as if he were a stranger she were noticing for the first time. As always, his mask sat on top of his head, posed as a beanie, and as he turned away to glance across the crowded bar, she’d never noticed before, but the curve of his cheekbones were defined. Sharp, even. Her gaze continued to linger, noticing the same detail about his jawline. Had she really never noticed before, or was the dim lighting doing him a favor by putting his facial features on display?

“Is this your idea of a good time?” She asks suddenly, and his attention is swiveling back to her. Even with the lights shifting across his face, the defined features still stuck out to her. “Going out somewhere crowded and noisy?”

Ino laughs at that, every part of his expression lighting up with his delight, and once again (y/n) wonders if someone’s purposefully messing with the lights to put a spotlight on him.

Her brother’s words from their last phone call start to penetrate her thoughts against her will. She tries to shake them off, but it’s hard when his brown eyes gleam like honey when he looks at her.

“Well, drinks are a pretty important part. This wouldn’t be fun without ‘em,” He says, and she shrugs in non-committed agreement. “But it is fun. I’m having fun, at least”

“It’s not…” She starts to tell him this wasn’t her ideal night out. In actuality, she was more of a stay in and relax on the weekend kind of person. Satoru did enough partying in his younger years to turn her off from it early on. But Ino perks up as he awaits her response, and it didn’t feel right to tell him the full truth. So she changes direction and tells him a half-lie. “It’s not terrible” She finishes.

He’s grinning again, as though she’d just told him she was having the time of her life, and she can’t help the confused knot in her brow. Could he really be so pleased over simply having a few drinks together?

“I knew you’d have a good time if you just came!” He cheered, reaching his glass across the table to tap it against hers. “You should’ve just accepted the invitation months ago”

She takes a long drink, stalling to try and find the right thing to say. She doesn’t want Ino to get the wrong idea, she’s not about to make this a regular thing. No, this was a one time occurrence. She stood by what she said all those months ago. It was silly to make friends in this line of work. She’d witnessed first hand, one too many times, just what companionship could cost. One night out couldn’t possibly change that.

Something twists in her chest before she can remind him of that, and it prevents her from saying anything of the sort. Instead, she changes the subject.

“Can I ask you a truth or drink question, now?” She leans forward in her seat a bit, resting her elbow on the table once more as she studies his eager expression.

“Shoot!” He agreed excitedly, and she can’t help the short laugh that escapes her. She blames the alcohol.

“How do you stay so positive all the time?” She asks the question that had been nagging at her for longer than just the past couple hours. He shakes his head slightly, not quite following the meaning of her question. “Even on assignments, and doing your reports, you’re always…” She wiggles her fingers in front of her as she tries to find the right word to explain it.

Ino chuckles, before full on laughter takes over and his shoulders are shaking as he grins from ear to ear, almost proving her point before he could actually answer.

“I love what I do?” He answers like it’s a question, like he’s unsure if that’s what she’s even looking for. “I’ve been working towards one goal my entire life, I might as well enjoy it, right?”

She’s stunned silent for a minute. There was a time where she would’ve said the same thing, when she was young and naive and thought her and her brother would take the jujutsu world by storm, side by side. Before she realized that her entire life would be spent under the shadow cast by him owning the family name almost all for himself. It was a large, infinite shadow. And the longer she’d lived in it, the more her joy for her work turned into a necessity. Until now, she hadn’t even realized just how much she’d come to despise every step it took to move forward in jujutsu society.

Ino took her silence to mean she was thinking too deeply about what he’d said, and a question of his own came to mind.

“Do you not enjoy it?”

Her gaze rises from where she’d zoned out looking at her dwindling drink, finding Ino across from her looking almost concerned. The longer she didn’t respond, the more his expression reminded her of the night he’d found her injured.

She clears her throat before opting out of answering, instead drinking down the last of the contents in her glass. He raises a brow at her choice.

“Did you not want to tell me your answer, or did you not know the answer?” He asks.

“Is that another question?” She asks, a small smirk forming on her lips. “Because I’ll have to order another drink”

Ino laughs, and despite her trying not to, she can’t help but laugh with him.

“Another round?” He asks, and she thinks about it for a minute, before nodding, and getting up from her seat. To her surprise, he follows her up to the bar, even though there was still a good quarter of his drink left. She doesn’t comment on it.

They have to squeeze between bodies to stake a place at the bar, the two bartenders already quite busy with the amount of people waving at them for their attention. It’s bound to take more than a couple minutes before they would get to place their order.

“Guess everyone had a rough week” (y/n) mumbles absentmindedly, and Ino glances down at her.

This wasn’t the first time he’d taken notice of her height- or lack thereof- but with having her so close she was nearly pressed into his side, it was hard not to notice. About a head shorter than him, he had to tilt his head down to properly look at her, which he was only doing now because the alcohol buzzing in his system lifted the barriers of his anxiety. Had he been sober, he’d have been far too weak to stare at her so blatantly.

Luckily due to the drinks they’d both had, (y/n) didn’t realize he was staring at her for a whole minute or so. She’d been too focused on trying to catch eyes with one of the bartender’s to feel his eyes on her. Even without being caught, he felt a flush creeping up his neck.

In another life, or hell, another universe, Ino wonders if things could have been different between them. If she would’ve been less closed off, or maybe he could’ve been more laid back and met her level of reserved. He wonders if they would’ve been closer friends, or maybe even something more than that.

Truthfully, when they’d first met, he’d instantly had a bit of a crush on her. He’d never met the younger Gojo before the day he started working with Nanami on his promotion, but as soon as he’d laid eyes on her, he thought his heart was going to go into cardiac arrest and he’d die right there. She was quiet, but he could tell behind her calculating expression that she was thoughtful, and cunning. And so, so beautiful, that he’d stuttered all the way through introducing himself, even his own name he’d struggled to get out. Looking back on it, he still felt embarrassed, but he was sure she’d long forgotten the interaction. It wasn’t long after their meeting that she’d made her disinterest in him explicitly clear, and the sparks of feelings she’d ignited in him were stomped out into ash.

He felt like a fool for feeling that spark ignite again just standing beside her in this congested bar, but he couldn’t be imagining that things were different tonight, right? He was sure that she was opening up more of herself than he’d ever seen before, and maybe the alcohol played a part in that, but either way, he couldn’t get enough of it. She was giving him crumbs of her life- an impulsive tattoo, her hopes to have a pet some day, a few reckless acts on assignments- and he was eating it all up with gratitude. He couldn’t help but want to learn more, wanting to press further until she couldn’t possibly deny that she enjoyed confiding in him as much as he enjoyed being in her company.

He knows he can’t be imagining things, because when she finally feels his stare and looks up at him, she doesn’t scowl, or spit out some cruel comment about it. Her brows twitch slightly, drawing together in a confused expression when he doesn’t immediately look away like she would’ve expected. He’s close enough that he can see the way a ghost of a smile hovers at the corners of her lips, and the way her cheeks warm up with color. It makes that microscopic spark of old feeling in his chest burn a little brighter.

A nervous laugh falls from her lips, and it’s so uncharacteristically cute that he’s smiling now, and he feels like an absolute dope for staring at her and smiling like an idiot, but it can’t be helped. He can’t be helped.

“What?” She asks, breathless and curious, her eyes shifting between his as though trying to find the source of this behavior, but instead she only finds warm pools of brown that almost resemble the rum and cokes she’s been enjoying all night.

And then all at once it’s almost too much. She’s suddenly aware of how close she is to him, their arms brushing together, or if he tilted his head just a little further down he could easily push his nose against hers and-

Her eyes widen at the derailing of her train of thought, the soft expression of surprise on her face more recognizable than she would’ve liked, and she could tell that it doesn’t go unnoticed by Ino, as he’s now regarding her with intrigue, wondering what was going through her mind.

The idea of him knowing she’d nearly gotten lost in thought at the idea of kissing him made her chest ache, and she badly wanted to tear her gaze away from his, lean over the bar and demand to be serviced so they could get away from the crowded space as quickly as possible.

What an idiotic, drunken thought to have. Kissing a colleague, how much more foolish could she possibly be? She tries to shake it off as a pesky intrusive thought. Nothing more than the alcohol pressuring her into making a reckless decision.

But she’s frozen before him, her eyes locked on his like she was stuck in a trance, trapped by her own nerves. The eye contact was going to kill her, especially with how soft his gaze was. It wasn’t like anything she was used to. It wasn’t setting her on fire from it’s heat. The way he looked at her made her feel like she’d just cozied up in front of a fireplace after a cold day. It almost scared her how warm it made her chest feel.

She’s opening her mouth before she even settled on what she needed to say.

“Takuma, we should probably get go-”

She’s interrupted before she could finish telling him they needed to leave. It almost saves her, seeing as she didn’t have a very decent excuse as to why they needed to end the night early, but there’s little time for relief when the unwelcome hand of a stranger settles on her waist, stealing her attention away from Ino’s.

“You waitin’ for a drink, sweetheart?”

She vaguely registers that the stranger with the breath that reeked of booze was speaking to her, before she’s reacting on instinct.

The grabby hand on her hip is pried off with ease, her strength easily overpowering his in less than a second. No amount of alcohol would be enough to hinder her reflexes. The stranger cries out in shock and pain as she twists his arm back behind him, likely spraining his shoulder with how fast she pushes it into an uncomfortable position. The sly expression on the man’s face is contorted into one of great pain, and only when he begins to cry out for her to stop does she stop pushing. Her desire to feel the bone snap under her strength starts to melt away when she sees tears in his eyes.

“You’re lucky I didn’t break your hands so you’d learn to keep your mitts to yourself” She mutters, releasing him with a slight shove. The drunken stranger stumbles backwards, still sniffling and gawking in shock from the whole ordeal.

The woman he’d tried to pick up is still scowling, and she looks like she’s still undecided in letting him go, the way her lip curls into a snarl and her eyes seem to pierce right through his soul. The man beside her looks no different, rage evident in the way his brows furrow and his jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together roughly. He has one hand on the edge of the bar, as close to where she stands as he could get without pushing himself against her completely. His knuckles are paling by the second, gripping so hard one could almost assume he was about to rip a chunk of oak clean out of the counter. His other hand is on his head, roughly grabbing at the edge of his hat.

Even the non-sorcerer that was this stranger got a bad feeling emanating from the two, and he scurried off without another word. (y/n’s) eyes rolled dramatically at the pathetic display, but as she turned back to Ino, she could almost laugh at the sight of him ready to pull his mask over his face.

“Are you alright?” He asks, and there’s not a crack in his expression as he glances over her with concern pouring out of every pore.

He loses his grip on the bar, hand hovering over her shoulder but not quite touching her, not knowing if physical contact would be a comfort right now. It’s odd, feeling like for once she was the Gojo with the shield of Infinity.

“I’m fine,” She tells him, and she means it, but she can tell he’s not so convinced. “But just out of curiosity, what was your plan here?” She asks, cracking a smile as she flicks the edge of his mask, still bunched up at the top of his head.

“I- I don’t know,” Ino answers sheepishly. “If he didn’t leave you alone I guess I was just gonna wing it” He admits.

She regards him for a moment, letting the answer sink in. Her smile widens a bit when she laughs softly, almost fondly, as she really thinks about it. She softens again, just like she had moments ago, before the creep ruined it.

“Well, for what it’s-”

“Hey, you two need to leave,”

The pair or sorcerers do a double take when one of the bartenders finally gives them their attention, but not for the reason they’d wanted.

“What?” (y/n) asks, certain they had the wrong patrons.

“We weren’t doing anything?” Ino’s brows furrow as the bartender looks them both up and down.

“I don’t care for the details. We can’t have a commotion like that in the bar. If you’re going to cause trouble, do it somewhere else”

“But the guy was the one who-!”

Before Ino could finish his explanation, the bartender was shoving a finger towards the door, an expectant look on their face that told them not to argue any further, unless they wanted to cause more trouble.

“Whatever,” (y/n) huffs. “This bar’s a dump anyways”

And before the bartender could react, she was grabbing Ino by the arm and pulling him away from the bar. She was on a mission for the door, eager to leave a place if she wasn’t wanted. All Ino could do was silently follow along, his mind barely processing the whole ordeal until they were outside, where it was significantly quieter.

It was darker than he’d expected, although he was well aware of the time, it was a shock to be out on the dark sidewalk with the stars on full display above them. He glances up at the sky to admire them for a moment, until realization strikes him and he’s whirling around to look at her again.

“What about our tab?”

(y/n) blinks back at him, her expression unwavering.

“Guess we won’t be welcomed back, either” She says, and Ino stares at her in shock as he processes the statement.

“Well then we better get moving”

(y/n) hadn’t intended to end up at another bar. In fact, before the handsy stranger made things weird, she’d been looking for an excuse to end the night early. However, her words betrayed her when Takuma suggested another little dive not far down the street, and that’s where she found herself now.

This place wasn’t as crowded as the last, so she felt comfortable walking in and claiming a small corner booth. By the time someone came by for their order, she’d already stretched out across the length of the leather cushion, back pressed to the window comfortably. Ino had chuckled at how cozy she’d made herself, but didn’t comment on it.

Once their first round- at this establishment- of drinks came around, he’d excitedly started up their previous game again.

“Would you have really broken that guy’s hands?” He asks, and (y/n) doesn’t even lift her drink to pretend she wouldn’t answer.

“Without a doubt,” She hums, spinning the ice in her glass with her straw. “Sometimes lessons have to be learned the hard way, right?” She asks him with a mischievous grin that tells him she might’ve done worse had the moment felt right. “My turn?” She asks, and he nods, crossing his arms over the table as he gave her his undivided attention. “Which little beast of yours would you have summoned?”

“Kaichi”

He answers with so much bluntness she raises her brows at him, surprised by his complete lack of thought before speaking. She hums, nodding her head in quiet agreement that impaling the stranger with one of those horns would have been the best method of defense.

“Has that… happened before?”

“The random guy hitting on me part? Or the part where I threatened a man’s hands?” She asks, and Ino doesn’t seem to have the proper clarification for her question, so she shrugs, and doesn’t drink to the question.

“No, that’s never happened before”

She takes a few sips after she’s answered, hoping to keep up the buzz she had going. Ino’s fingers tap rhythmically against the table as he processes her answer. He seems unaffected at first, but slowly, confusion begins to seep into his features.

“Wait, so you’re saying no one’s ever hit on you, either?”

“You already asked that one”

“Well then I’m asking again”

(y/n) begins to pull her glass towards her, ready to take another drink, but maybe the alcohol gets on top of her a bit as she answers the question before she could evade it.

“No, I’ve never been hit on. I don’t think, anyways. But I think I’d probably know if I was”

It comes out like word vomit, babbled out like her thoughts were on a direct pipeline to being voiced. She doesn’t mean to share so much, but she finishes with a shrug of her shoulders, and raises her glass to sip some more.

“You really never go out, huh?” He asks, taking a drink as well.

“What, getting hit on is the true price you pay for going out?” She asks with a short laugh, not following the connection between the two. Ino nods his head from side to side, indecisive in his response.

“Not always, just, y’know, figured it’d happen a lot if you didn’t stay in all the time”

By the time he realizes the implications of that statement, it’s already too late. Ino nearly chokes on his drink when (y/n) tilts her head at him, realization slowly flickering over her features.

“You’re saying people would hit on me a lot if I went out more?” She asks skeptically.

He considers pulling his mask over his face in order to conceal the growing heat in his cheeks. Not that it would help, the damage had already been done with his loud mouth.

“I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Well how did you mean it then?” She asks, suddenly swiveling her legs to sit upright against the table, plopping her chin in her hands to study him properly.

She always had a way of looking at him with calculation in her eyes, as if she was sizing him up like a curse. Right now, he doesn’t know what to make of the way she stares at him. There’s that familiar look in her eyes that makes him wonder just what it is she’s looking for, but the softness in her smile was unfamiliar territory, and Ino didn’t have the slightest clue of what to make of it. Was it amusement? Did she take sick joy in watching him fluster and stutter? Or could it be the alcohol to blame? Perhaps it was loosening her up, and any semblance of delight was merely the booze entertaining her. The most outlandish reason would have been fondness, but there simply wasn’t a chance in the freezing depths of hell that she was actually growing fond of his company, was there?

“I just meant, y’know,” He gestures his hand towards her, pathetically trying to explain his thought process. She shakes her head in a small motion, not understanding his poor attempt at reason in the slightest. “Like, you… you’re… you know”

Ino would really rather be anywhere else right now, preferably somewhere that wasn’t so hot his collar was sticking to his neck and his throat was closing up, but then (y/n) begins to laugh, and he huffs out a sigh in aggravation, and ultimately decides to take a long drink.

“Fair enough,” She muses at his choice. “It’s not a terrible assumption to make, I suppose. My brother is acquainted with every eligible man and woman in the city, after all” She says, only half joking. Ino seems to find a great deal of amusement in that, grinning and laughing, although he can’t say he’s that surprised.

“For the record, I wasn’t comparing you to him in that assumption,” He says. “I just figured you’d… attract your own attention” He says.

There’s an undeniable flutter in her chest, and she wished she could say she hated the way it spread a tingle of warmth throughout her entire body. It wasn’t like she’d never received that sort of attention from others, but it had been so long since she entertained the idea that it was starting to feel a little foreign. And having Ino of all people assume that there were a line of suitors out the door waiting for her hand had her insides turning with the near unfamiliar sensation of butterflies.

Her silence is making him anxious, his fingers tapping against the table no longer playing a steady beat. They mimicked the rapid increase in his heartbeat. Wild and unsteady and with no sign of relaxing.

“That so?” When she finally does speak it’s soft, nearly a whisper, as if she didn’t quite believe him. “Are you an expert in that field, then?”

She catches the way his eyes land on his drink, which was now empty, so there wasn’t exactly an out for the question. When his gaze shifts back up to hers, he finds she hasn’t looked away from him yet.

“What field?” He plays dumb, and her smile curls into a slight smirk.

“Flirting, courting, whatever you want to call it” (y/n) answers with ease, fiddling with the straw in her drink as she impatiently waits for his answer. He eyes his empty glass once more.

“No, I’m no expert,” He huffs, a deep frown on his face for having to admit something so embarrassing. “You timed that on purpose”

“I did not!” She argues, but her nervous laughter gives her away. She’s not as good at lying when she’s drunk apparently, and he might just have to store that information for later.

“My drink was empty! That was a trap!”

She has to cover her mouth to try and suppress the giggles coming out of her uncontrollably. He’s still embarrassed, but her laughter was contagious. Anyone passing by or glancing over at the loud laughter pouring out of their booth would assume they were having nothing but a good time. And for a few seconds at a time, Ino could pretend they were, too.

To keep things fair, (y/n) finishes the last few sips of her drink, before sliding both glasses to the end of the table.

“Alright, your turn then,” She says, a small hiccup punctuating the offer. “You must have something good saved up your sleeve?”

He thinks about it for a moment, folding his arms over the table and subconsciously leaning over it to get closer to her. With his eyes wandering the bar as he racks his brain for a good question she couldn’t avoid answering, she was able to properly gaze at him without getting caught. Just like at the previous bar, she gets a little lost in thought as she maps out every feature of his face. There was nothing forgettable about Takuma Ino, but she found herself trying to commit it all to memory anyways.

That flutter in her chest hadn’t gone away, and the longer it prevailed the more she began to sink into the feeling. It’s relaxing, the way time slows down, and the buzz sends goosebumps prickling up her arms. She would have never thought she could find this much comfort in this setting, but to her, this booth was the only thing in her world.

“Would you do this again?” He finally settles on a question, and it’s clear that it’s not what she expected, judging by the way her eyes slightly widen from being caught off guard.

Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out right away. It’s as though he’d wiped her mind completely blank, not even a weak excuse coming to mind. The fuzzy feeling in her chest turns to static, sharp and cold before disappearing completely, leaving behind nothing but an emptiness that stings as it lingers. Her smile slowly falls as reality begins to seep back into their booth, reminding her of why she’d kept him beyond arm’s length all this time.

Deep down, she wonders if she always knew this would happen. She wondered if self preservation took over as soon as she met him because if it hadn’t, she would’ve let him get too close a long, long time ago. Guilt claws it’s way up from her gut to her throat, strangling her to keep her from saying the wrong thing first.

Ino’s sure he already has his answer when she doesn’t say anything right away. It’s written all over her face, the way she winces, and shuffles uncomfortably in her seat. Disappointment doesn’t begin to cover what he feels as he looks away from her, trying and failing to keep his face neutral.

“Got it” He mutters, catching the eye of a passing server and signaling for the check. (y/n) frowns.

“Takuma, I…” She starts, but her throat still burns, and she struggles to find the right thing to say that won’t make things worse. “I tried to tell you that tonight was just-”

“I know,” He replies. It makes her blood run cold, the way his voice lacks it’s usual chipper tone. Now it holds nothing. He’s so painfully emotionless that she almost wishes he would just get angry with her. “You made that clear”

They’re completely silent when a server comes back with the check, the tension turning awkward as soon as another person enters their bubble. They must pick up on it, because they’re quick to bid them a good night before rushing away.

(y/n) drops the money on the table, and Ino’s out of his seat and headed for the door before she could even stand. She huffs as she follows after him, although he stops just outside the door. His heart was too good to leave her completely stranded, even though he wasn’t sure he could take another minute of being around her.

“Takuma, look, it’s not like it’s personal-”

He scoffs, his hands in his pockets as he looks down at her. She’s shocked to see the glare on his features, and if he wasn’t so irritated, he might’ve noticed the hurt on her face from the sharp look.

“If you tell me one more time just how not personal it is, I think I’m going to scream, (y/n),” He snaps, and in all the times she’s had this conversation with him and butted heads, she’s never heard him talk like that. All she can do is stand there pathetically and accept it. “Because it’s bullshit. You know it, I know it, shit, Nanami knows it”

“It’s not,” She mumbles, shaking her head. “It’s not bullshit, I just-”

“You don’t care about anything but becoming Grade One, I know,” He finishes the statement for it. “You don’t care about drinks, and you don’t care about me. Trust me, I remember,”

A pout settles on her lips, and for the first time in a long time, she wants to cry.

“You know I actually-” Ino pauses to let out a humorless laugh, eyes fleeting across the busy streets as he finds twisted amusement in the way he’d fallen for this whole charade. “I actually thought you were having a good time, I actually, stupidly believed that maybe you-” He stops again, not wanting to sound more idiotic than he already did.

After tonight, as soon as they part ways, things would go back to the way they were, and she’d probably pretend nothing ever happened. He’s not sure he was going to be able to survive that, even after all of this time accepting that she had no interest in him. Ino doesn’t think he could go back to the way things were.

But fuck it, if this was going to be the last time she talked to him, he wasn’t going to lay back and take it. He was going to put all the cards on the table.

“You know I care about you, don’t you? You have to know that. Even if you can’t be friends or partners you- you have to know that. You’re not dumb, (y/n), so don’t act like it,”

She has to curl her hands into fists at her sides to keep control of the tears in her eyes. She couldn’t dare let them spill over.

“But you’re so so stubborn, I’ve never met anyone like you,” He huffs, and the smile on his face is conflicting with the way he spits the words out like poison. “You’re nothing like Satoru. I’ve never thought so. All these walls you put up to keep people from getting close to you so you don’t happen to stumble on the same path he did- because that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? You’d rather shelter yourself from everything than risk getting a little hurt?”

Her bottom lip wobbles with emotion, and she turns away so she doesn't have to look at him. She wished some mysterious force would suck her away from this moment and land her in the safety of her bed where she never had to face the consequences of her actions. It was childish, but she couldn’t bear to argue with him right now.

“You’re drunk” She mumbles to the sidewalk.

“You’re drunk,” He repeats incredulously, his hands flying outward. “You think I don’t know you because you won’t, just once, let someone get close to you,” He rants, “But you know what the worst part is, (y/n)? You’re only going to get hurt anyways. And you have,” He gestures to her shoulder, making her defensively hold a hand over where the scars are hidden beneath her clothes. Her brows furrow as she opens her mouth to argue, but he beats her to it. “And then- while I was worried about you, because damn it there was so much blood, I thought you might die, you took it out on me! You got mad at me and pushed me away, again. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

It’s only when his rant starts to die down that he realizes she’s barely looking at him because her eyes are glossy, and he knows damn well that she’s fighting every urge to cry. He doesn’t know if she’s emotionally on edge because of him, or the alcohol making her sensitive, but either way, he sighs in defeat, and his shoulders slump from the weight of all of the thoughts he’d been carrying for the last few months.

“I- I know that you care,” She says weakly, her voice more strained than she would have liked. “I just don’t get it, okay? It doesn’t make sense. You don’t make sense. I don’t- I- I can’t-” Her stutters come out in a whimper and she’s looking away again, desperately trying to compose herself before she could do something embarrassing.

There were still people out and about even this late into the night, more than enough people to overhear their argument in the middle of the sidewalk. Normally, she’d call her brother’s driver and leave without putting up with this argument. But she can’t bring herself to do such a thing right now. Not with the way he’s looking at her like she just destroyed the moon and all of it’s stars.

“My whole life has been wasted trying to prove something that I- that just isn’t possible,”

The admission comes out in a shaky whisper. She’s never voiced it before, but now is as good a time as any of he’s really so desperate to understand why she was wired this way.

“I don’t even understand why I was born, Takuma. My parents had no interest in me. They already had Satoru. For as long as I could remember, I was only around to follow behind my big brother while the entire world bent over backwards to give him everything. Attention, money, fame, candy apples- that’s what’s bullshit,” It comes out bitter and nasty, her nose wrinkling as she thinks back to every event she was forced to dress up and go to, only to be ignored, cast aside, and forgotten about completely while Satoru skipped around and received everything he could ever want. “And I just can’t- can’t understand what anyone could ever want from me, I have nothing,”

She hadn’t noticed the tears leaking from her eyes until there’s a pair of warm hands cupping her face, thumbs gently pushing them away. She doesn’t want to look at him, not with all of the shame she felt just being comforted by him, but a stronger part of her can’t help but stare at him. She hadn’t expected such sudden gentleness from him, and she hadn’t realized just how long it had been since someone had last comforted her. When was the last time someone wiped her tears? Or touched her so softly that even in the frigid evening brought warmth to her skin?

“Explain it to me,” She pleas quietly. “Why- why would you possibly want to be around me?”

Her eyes shift between his, but he’s too focused on clearing away each tear rolling down her cheeks. She sniffles, and her hands reach up to grab his wrists. Ino thinks she might yank him away, but she doesn’t. She simply stands there with a solid grip on him.

“You are drunk,” He says quietly, just a hint of amusement in his eyes as he finally meets her sorrowful gaze. “Don’t cry, (y/n), I didn’t mean to make you cry,”

But it’s too late, she can’t stop the tears from streaming down her face now.

“I told you, I care about you, we’re partners, yeah?” He offers, but her expression is unrelenting. “Have you considered maybe I don’t want you to get hurt, either?”

Tears stick to her lashes when she blinks, and she has to bite down on her cheek to keep her lips from trembling. He’s so close that he’d be sure to notice, but he also notices the clench in her jaw.

Every instinct she’d trained herself on is telling her to push him away. Even if it meant physically shoving him off of her. He’s too close in every sense of the word, breaching every wall she’d built brick by brick.

But something else nags at her, something far more sinister and cruel. It pushes her forward, and has her clenching her hands around his wrists tighter as she stands before him in all of her pathetic glory. Tears still pouring down her cheeks and her lower lip still wobbling, she swallows her pride.

“I’m sorry,”

It’s quiet, but not because it’s ingenuine. In fact it’s the opposite. With a raw throat came a strained voice, so full of emotion she couldn’t possibly raise her voice any louder than the murmur that came out.

Ino blinks, his eyes widening in the slightest as he stares back at her in shock. The entire night had been full of surprises, but now it had certainly taken a turn and set him on a path where he could see no clear ending.

“Takuma, I’m- I’m so sorry,” She continues, eyes glossing over again. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away, I shouldn’t have said all those terrible things to you I- I didn’t mean any of it,”

She’s shaking her head so rapidly it makes her a bit dizzy with the alcohol still in her system, but she doesn’t care if she sways a little. She only wants to convey to him just how serious she was, and how important it was to her that he understood that.

“I think… I think you’re one of the greatest people I’ve ever met,” She continues, and slowly, the tears come to a stop. “I’ve never known anyone as… as caring as you,”

Her voice softens, a nervous shyness creeping in for admitting something so vulnerable. But she wasn’t sure if she’d ever work up the courage to say something like this to him again, so it was now or never.

“And I know you’d never hurt me, b-because I’m… I’m the one who was hurting you,” He opens his mouth, likely to argue with that statement, but she was quick to keep going before he got the chance to interrupt. “But I don’t think you understand that… that losing you would mean hurting me, too” She finishes, brows pinched together as they both sit for a moment to process it all.

Ino sighs, his thumbs wiping away the last of her tears, yet he keeps his hands cupped around her face. A part of him was paranoid that if he let her go now, she might slip away once and for all. The other, louder part knew that with the grip she had on his arms, neither one of them were going anywhere.

And so he tells her just that.

“I’m not going anywhere,” He assures her, a confident smile stretching across his face. “You’re not losin’ me. Promise”

She snorts at that, the tiniest of laughs escaping her in a mere breath.

“You can’t promise something like that,” She scolds. “In this line of-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ino shakes his head dismissively. “Too late. Already promised. So it’s set in stone,”

She stares up at him with wide eyes, so lost in trying to understand him in his entirety that she doesn’t even know what to say next. Had he forgiven her so easily? How could he say such a thing with as much assurance as he did?

“As long as you can promise to drop the tough guy act and just… be the tough guy you already are,” He says, only half kidding, “Then I can promise that I’m not leaving you” He offers, tilting his head to the side as he gazes down at her fondly, admiring the way the corners of her lips begin to twitch into a smile.

“Okay,” She whispers, so quiet he only knew she said it from the way her lips moved around the word. “I promise” ___

From that day forward, (y/n) worked more and more to loosen up around him. It wasn’t easy at first, and the first day was the hardest. The Monday back at work was a bit awkward, after she’d spent an entire weekend nursing a hangover, with an overbearing brother pestering her for the details. Ino had brought her and Nanami coffee that first morning, and she’d made an effort to eat her lunch with him every day that week.

Then the week after that she began to accompany him on his coffee runs as well, spending the extra time chatting mindlessly and getting to know one another better.

A few weeks after that the two of them went out for drinks one evening, until that too became a part of the routine. Once a month or so they’d go out to any new bar Ino could find and waste away as much of an evening as they could.

Slowly but surely, partnership grew into genuine friendship- something (y/n) hadn’t felt for a long, long time. And Ino made sure to never let her forget it. Whether it was remembering her favorite drink order, or watching an entire series she’d said she liked one time, he took her companionship seriously. The more she got to know him, the harder he made it not to fall for him.

But, god, was falling for him one of the easiest things that’s ever come to her in this life. It was unavoidable, unstoppable, uncontrollable. No matter how much she tried to fight it, the way her heart raced whenever he was around was distinct to feelings only he could spark. And the way her eyes searched for him first in a crowd was more than enough proof that her fondness for him had grown well past platonic.

It might have been silly to be surprised by her feelings when she’d finally realized that’s what the swell in her chest was all about. After the incident that was their drunken night out where she’d torn herself apart at the seams before him- they don’t talk about that night, and she can’t help but wonder if he’s doing it out of favor for her, or if he’s just as embarrassed about it as she was- she found herself getting lost when thinking about him more often.

It ranged anywhere from how his eyes were their prettiest when they would leave Jujutsu Tech in the early evening. With the sun low in the sky, rays of light caught them just right and made them appear to be the most brilliant, shining amber she’s ever seen.

Satoru loved to brag about his baby blues to anyone who would listen, throwing his shades off with dramatic flare as he’d bat his eyelashes at unsuspecting victims. Ever so full of himself, he loved the attention he’d get for the outrageously bright blue hue of his eyes. When directed at her, (y/n) tended to scoff and tell him that his Six Eyes was far more worthy of bragging about than the damn color of them.

More recently, she’d shrugged her shoulders before directing her attention elsewhere. “I prefer brown eyes” She’d told him carelessly. At the time he’d pouted over it, whining about how his little sister thought he was ugly. But ever since seeing her grow closer to her partner, he had a sneaking suspicion he knew who’s brown eyes she was talking about.

As much as she indulges herself in these thoughts- wondering how soft his lips were, remembering how gentle his hands had been when he’d touched her- she knows she can’t act on them. Not after everything she’d already put him through getting their working relationship this far. If she were to admit to him now that she was catching romantic feelings for him, it would be humiliating. And she was humiliated enough as it is. So she swore to herself they would remain hidden deep, deep down, under a lock and key- with said metaphorical key being thrown into a fire and melted down into a clump of misshapen chunk metal. Then she threw that metaphorical chunk of metal into a metaphorical ocean. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#takuma ino #takuma ino x reader #ino x reader #ino takuma #ino takuma x reader #takuma ino imagine #ino imagine #takuma #ino #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagine #jjk x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff

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sofiareidings · 1 year ago

Text

Drunk Words Are Sober Thoughts

Summary: At the New Year's party at Rossi's you have a little to much to drink and Spencer has to take you home. What will happen when the clock strikes midnight though?

A/N: Stated in the title but I'm also stating it now, this one-shot does mention alcohol. Also, thank you so much for all the love on yesterday's post! I'm going to try and post a story everyday until I start school, (September 6th) once I get back into the rhythm of school I'll try and make a posting schedule.

Word Count: 0.9k

Song Suggestions: Pacific - Sleeping At Last

Rossi had invited the entire team over for a New Years party. It had been a tough year, and everyone needed it. You spent the evening having fun, talking, dancing, and drinking.

Maybe a little too much drinking. It was thirty minutes to midnight and Garcia had finally cut you off. “I love you sweetie, but you’re sticking to water for the rest of the night.” You sighed at her comment and decided the best idea would be to vent about it to someone else.

“…and now she’s only giving me water!” You slumped back in the chair while Spencer just shook his head. He was completely sober that night and could tell how drunk you were. He knew it was time for you to go home. He stood up, putting a hand out for you to grab.

“Come on, it’s time to go home.” Taking his hand you groan and reluctantly grab your stuff while mumbling to yourself about the injustice. Once you got to Spencer’s car you turned on his radio, the first channel was a strange classical music channel and immediately changed. The next channel was counting down to midnight while playing what you assumed was the top 100.

Rossi’s mansion wasn’t far from your apartment complex and Spencer had gotten there in less than ten minutes. “Fifteen minutes till midnight! I wonder who my Near Year’s kiss will be. This next song is…” When the song started you stopped listening and turned to Spencer.

“I don’t want to be alone at midnight, can we stay here until then please?” The sentence came out a lot sadder than you expected. “And then if you’re here at midnight…I can have a New Year’s kiss.”

“Y/N…you’re drunk.” His face was red, you were drunk. He knew that but, the quote, ‘drunk words are sober thoughts.’ was all he could think of. He didn’t want to take advantage of the state you were in and didn’t dare try to make any advances. “We can stay here until midnight.”

“Only ten minutes until midnight folks! Here’s number two on…”

You were at the emotional stage of drunkenness, it was quite evident by the way you cried a little while talking. “You’re so cute, Spence. Whenever you make that little confused face when I talk about pop culture I can’t help but die inside because you look so pretty. Like a lost puppy…and when you wave instead of shaking someone's hand because shaking hands are gross or whatever I just melt. And everytime you wear your glasses I can’t focus on anything other than your cuteness…”

He was blushing hard but was still making sure not to take anything serious. “T-thanks Y/N, I really appreciate that…” His sentence trailed off as he watched your hand grab onto his arm and stay there. The butterflies were going crazy and he knew he needed to get out of here. “Why don’t I take you up to your apartment? I’ll stay till midnight but I want to make sure you make it the full way home.”

“That’s such a good idea, why didn’t I think of it!” You groaned while going to open the car door. The handle was jammed, when Spencer noticed he got out of the car leaving you alone in the car for a second.

“Six minutes until midnight! Here is the last song of the night folks…”

The door opened and there he stood, holding your bag and jacket waiting to take you upstairs. Opening the front door of the building you looked at your phone clock.

“11:57” You stated while he hit the elevator button. While waiting you managed to make your way to the live broadcast of the ball drop in New York.

“We are two minutes and fifteen seconds away from midnight!”

The elevator opened and you hit the button to take you to the third floor.

“Would you look at that, only a minute and twenty seconds left everyone.”

Spencer grabbed your hand and walked you towards your apartment while you listened to the announcer blasting from your phone.

“Thirty seconds!”

A loud countdown started on your phone while Spencer looked for your house key in your bag. You watched him try every key.

“Ten!”

You hear a little click and he starts turning the key.

“Nine!”

The key gets stuck in place.

“Eight!”

He jimmies with the key.

Seven!”

The lock finally opens.

“Six!”

The door opens and you walk in.

“Five!”

You lean against the wall while Spencer shuts the door.

“Four!”

He turns your hallway light on.

“Three!”

You hear the sound of your purse hitting the table.

“Two!”

Spencer walks back over to you, preparing to say goodnight after the countdown.

“One!”

In a moment of drunken boldness you wrap your hands around his neck and press your lips against his. He’s shocked and stumbles back a little, not sure what to do. You can feel his arm wrap around your waist tightly. After a couple seconds you let go and stagger backwards smiling. “Happy New Year’s.”

“Yeah, happy New Year’s…” He’s still in shock but makes sure that you make it to bed before leaving.

‘Drunk words are sober thoughts.’

Walking back down to the parking lot his mind is full of so many different thoughts. He’s not sure how seriously he should take your advances. What if you won’t remember them in the morning? What if it isn’t what you really feel? The final thought, one that had been coming back to him all night.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #fandom #criminal minds fandom #fanfic #bau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #romance #sofiareidings

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formulapookie · 1 month ago

Note

bezzetti birthday sex.

here's to you dear anon <3 (2.5k words later) under the cut for the smut

Cele knew Bez had something planned for his birthday, because he always had since they were messy kids running around tracks with their minibikes.

They’re still equally as messy, the bikes have changed, sure, but they’re still kinda kids at heart.

Like when last year Bez gifted him the Millenium Falcon Lego set for his 22nd birthday and they spent hours together building it.

Bez’s birthday is almost exactly one month after his, so he always has the chance to one up his boyfriend’s gift in that period, but this time he fears it’s gonna be complicated.

When midnight hits and Pecco uncorks the champagne he bought the day before, Bez immediately picks him up and kisses him, making them both laugh as they try to lose themselves in each other’s arms.

“You are amazing today, happy birthday amore” “You’re making me blush in front of everyone” “You’re so pretty when you do”

They kiss again, then they all chant “Happy Birthday” to Cele before bringing him gifts.

Most of them are bike related things, someone getting him new gloves, someone new knee sliders, someone going out their way and buying him a whole new leathers for training, since his are pretty demolished.

Bez is last, he always is with his gifts, he brings him a little light blue box, of course in his colors, with a blue ribbon around it.

Cele opens it and he doesn’t speak for a few seconds.

“Venice? Really?”

Bez nods, Cele loves that city, always has, but he never had time or chance to go visit it properly.

“Five days, you and me in Venice, no one to bother us with trainings or whatsoever” “I love you” “I know” “After the season ends we’re going to Venice ok?” “I love you so much” “I love you too”

Cele blushes again, Bez hugs him and kisses the bridge of his nose, then everyone starts asking for the cake, chocolate flavored of course, and another hour passes.

Mig gets completely drunk once again and Franky has to actually restrain him from trying to use Rubik as a horse and pace around the house like that, then Pecco takes a handful of cake and basically throws it on Luca’s face who starts running after him with the remaining piece of cake trying to hit him.

Bez and Cele steal every joint Franky tries to roll for himself, and he ends up having to smoke in the bathroom with Mig half asleep beside him in the bathtub asking to “please let me smoke I’ll suck you off later”, and eventually giving in to the compromise.

Bez had cursed because he just needed to take a piss, not to see Mig going at it with Franky in his bathroom.

Pecco and Luca had disappeared at some time during the night only to emerge from the guest bedroom half an hour later looking anything but collected as they usually are, making Cele tease them about it for a good ten minutes.

Rubik tried to steal Cele’s gloves a few times, and Bez couldn’t scold him for the love of God so he just gave his dog a pair of his own gloves to play with, trying to make it less obvious that the pitbull had drooled all over Cele’s new pair.

By three in the morning there’s only a few people left, including Mig and Franky, who visibly had more than just one trip to the bathroom together, judging by the state of Mig’s neck and walking ability.

When even they leave, kinda thrown out by Bez who can’t stand them being all touchy ald flirty on his couch for fuck’s sake, him and Cele are finally alone.

“Enjoyed the birthday?” “Except from the fact Mig and Franky kept the bathroom occupied for the majority of the night yeah, I did” “Oh come on as if we never did that to their house, or Pecco’s, or even at the Ranch when we partied for Pecco’s first title and you dragged me there, or-” “Yeah ok ok I get it I know stop saying it you know I get embarrassed” “Mh yeah that’s exactly why I bring it up”

Cele pushes him jokingly and Bez catches his wrist, pulling him close to his chest, kissing him deeply.

“Hello birthday boy” “Hello my favorite present” “Oh I’m a present now?” “Pretty much the best one of the last three years”

They keep kissing until they stumble in their bed, luckily not the one used by their friends, and Cele gets pinned to the mattress.

“Marco Marco come on” “Eager today?” “Been waiting all night fuck”

Bez smiles as he undresses himself, tossing the shirt somewhere around the room and Cele quickly following him.

As soon as Cele’s half naked he goes to kiss his neck, leaving a pretty dark bruise on it, halfway from the collarbone to his jaw.

He leaves a trail of wet kisses until he reaches the boy's nipple, he recently got it re pierced after Bez convinced him to do it.

And it honestly was one of the best things he did as of lately, he got hypersensitive and Bez can pretty much play with him and get him dumb whenever, especially if he’s already as aroused as he is now.

“Love this on you Celin, you look so cute when you squirm because I tease you” “You get - fuck - you get sensitive there too don’t act so superior”

Bez doesn’t leave the younger much time before beginning to suck on that nipple, toying with the other one in the meantime.

“Marco fuck”

Bez smiles against his chest, not interrupting his game, but moving the hand busy with Cele’s nipple down to unzip his pants and cup him through his boxers.

Cele arches his back slightly, his hand going to tug at the mess of curls Bez’s hair are right now, making the older moan lightly.

Bez is sensitive pretty much everywhere, but neck, nipples and hair are his most sensitive places, if they’re fucking and Cele is riding him all he has to do is get his hands in Bez’s hair and pull and he’ll get really close really fast.

Cele feels hot all over, he wants Bez inside him now, wants his stupidly big hand holding him down as he fucks him so good he wakes up still feeling it.

But as always the other loves to drive him slowly insane, more than he already is, toy with him as if he’s a mouse and Bez is a cat.

“Stop teasing it’s my birthday come on” “So when my birthday comes in a month I can boss you around like you’re trying to do now Celin?” “I don’t- yes you can but now -” “You promised eh Celin, remember, now what do you want me to do?”

Cele bites his lip, there’s a thin string of saliva still connecting Bez’s mouth to his nipple and it’s fucking hot.

“I just want you inside please” “As you wish”

Bez removes his hand from the front of Cele’s boxers, which by now are basically soaked in precum, yanking off his pants and wet boxers making Cele groan in pleasure

He looks for the lube, three seconds during which his boyfriend props himself up to unzip his pants and urge him to be quick.

“I don’t care how eager you are amore, I still need to prep you ok?” “But come onnnn, we fucked yesterday I’m - I’m ready” “No you are not, not lay back and let me make you feel good alright? I promise I’ll fuck you so well Celin”

The boy whines as Bez pushes him on the mattress again, then he hears the sound of lube being squeezed and a cold sensation around his hole.

Bez’s lips find their place below his jaw once again, leaving small and numerous kisses all over it, while he pushes the first and almost immediately second finger in.

Cele’s hands fly to grab onto Bez’s back, nails scratching lightly already. He wants him so much he can’t even describe it, Bez always had this effect on him, since the first time they ever had sex, he’s addictive, you have him once you want him forever.

“Gonna use a third finger ok? Then I promise I’m fucking you” “Yes yes it’s ok it’s good just be quick with it I want you”

Bez smiles against his jaw, it comes natural to him when he’s with Cele, whatever situation they’re in.

When he pushes the third finger in, Cele digs his nails a bit deeper in Bez’s back, making him whine and speed up his movements, he’s scissoring and stretching him so well Cele thinks he might just come from that alone.

It’s overwhelming, it always is, the precision and rapidity of Bez’s fingers, they reach places inside him he can’t reach on his own, when he’s alone at home and he misses Bez’s touch, and tries to do what he does, but can never get that deep or fast or precise like Bez does, and that gets him insane.

“Fuck - I’m ready Marco I swear”

Bez leaves another hickey on Cele’s neck before removing his fingers and swapping them for his cock, which is painfully hard in his boxers now.

They kiss, a mess of teeth and tongue as the older get properly naked and starts pushing inside him, slowly but so fucking deep it has Cele moaning in three seconds.

By now his nails must’ve left marks, which is fucking hot for both of them, mostly for Cele, as Bez pulls out and slams back in making his back arch in pleasure he looks for the “C” he painted on Bez’s shoulderblade the day before with hickeys, then as soon as the older behind moving and setting his usual quick pace his mind gets lost.

It’s like waves of continuous pleasure drawing him at every thrust, Bez’s grunts just getting him more and more needy for it, like fuel to an already burning fire.

“Marco kiss me please”

And he doesn’t wait to hear it twice, Bez just presses their lips together, pushing his tongue past Cele’s teeth and never interrupting his thrusts, actually increasing the speed and depth of them.

“I love you so much” “I know” “What are you - fuck - Han Solo?” “Would you dress like Leila?” “Fuck off” “You’d look good Celin, you’d be my princess wouldn’t that be hot?”

Cele has to muffle a moan, he doesn’t know if it’s just the word princess or Bez saying it but it gets him immediately closer to the edge, and obviously Bez notices.

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you? To be my little princess, get treated like royalty while I fuck you so good you forget your name?”

Cele moans again, Bez hits his prostate and he can’t help it, it’s all together and it’s all so much.

He’s so so close, he can feel the knot in his stomach about to burst.

“Mh not yet baby” “No please come on it’s my birthday” “You’re right bimbo, you’re right, but you still have to earn your gift no? So what about you ride me and then you can cum? Sounds good?”

It does. Because whenever he rides Bez he kinda gets the upper hand, he can tease more, and aside from the he loves riding Bez, he gets so deep inside him it almost makes him stupid.

“Yes yeah ok sounds - I’ll do it”

Bez kisses him deeply once again, pulling out and settling for a comfortable position to let Cele have access to his lap.

The older pats his thigh and Cele is quick to crawl to him, almost immediately trying to have Bez inside him again, sitting in his lap and guiding his cock against his hole, sinking on it as soon as he can, moaning loudly at the sensation.

“Come on Celin, you can move”

He follows Bez’s words like a command, and begins moving, tilting his head back as he rides Bez’s dick, so eager to come and make his boyfriend do the same.

His hands almost automatically go for the older’s hair, pulling him closer to his face to kiss him.

Cele moans inside Bez’s mouth, who’s eagerly swallowing every sound coming from the younger, especially once he gets his hands on Cele’s ass and squeezes it, helping him out with his movements.

“Are you tired already Celin? You want me to finish the job for you?”

And yeah, he actually is, his thighs are giving up, his brain is all over the place, sensitivity multiplied by a thousand times, and he really just finds it hot whenever Bez takes over the situation.

“Please”

Bez moans in his mouth before starting to meet his movements with harsh and deep thrusts, it’s obvious he’s close as well, Cele can tell by the way his moans are becoming louder and closer between them and the way he’s pulling him against his chest to feel him more.

Once Bez gets his free hand around his dick Cele knows it’s over, all it takes it’s a few strokes and he’s coming all over his boyfriend’s hand, leaking hot liquid making its way and dripping onto Bez’s thigh, while the older can only last so much before burying himself deep inside Cele and painting him white, Cele’s hypersensitive hole clenching at the hot sensation inside.

He climbs off Bez’s lap, cuddling beside him as he shifts to be laying on the bed, both taking deep breaths and looking at each other smiling.

“Fuck” “That was - god that was really good” “I still can’t believe I get to have you Marco” “Oh come on, at the latest it’s me who can’t believe I’m your boyfriend”

It makes Cele blush, the way Bez looks at him with the sun in his eyes.

“Can I make an early gift for your birthday?” “Always Celin”

He gets back on top of him, Bez casting a questioning look, then Cele lowers his head to level with his chest and Bez gets it.

“You possessive basta- fuck”

He’s drawing a heart with hickeys around his pierced nipple, something he’s done thousands of times now, to mark Bez as his, off limits for whoever may try to steal a glance at him.

He gets it done in less than one minute, then looks at his artwork for a good other few minutes.

“Happy now?” “Very” “Come here come on, I wanna cuddle you” “You’re always so - you seem like a koala post sex you know?” “You enjoy me being clingy tho” “Yeah I do” “Then come here, we have to be up in like two hours to get to the Ranch” “No let’s stay here” “We got the race Celin” “I can’t wait for the season to be over do we can go to Venice” “Five days” “I’m already thinking of a few things we can do in five days there”

Bez smiles, leaving a kiss on Cele’s cheek before feeling him slowly drifting to sleep and quickly following him, keeping him tight in the hug. They’ll worry about cleaning up sometime later, right now the important thing it’s they’re together.

#alice journal of asks #anon🩷#alice writes #bezzetti #motogp smut #motogp rpf

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dianneking · 9 months ago

Text

On The Seashore (Brienne x Reader)

Hi all! For my weekly fic challenge, @scream-queenlover suggested this prompt (#2584) @promptsforthestrugglingauthor :

"I'm tired of adventures. How about we just get married and stay home?" "I'm sorry…did you just fucking propose?”

You and Brienne have been adventuring together for years, and while you enjoy the friendship and camaraderie that the two of you share, you can't help but wish for more, maybe…but is it in the cards?

Tags: Brienne x Reader, AU - Canon Divergence, Swearing, Brienne is an adventurer, Aroace spectrum, Brienne is on the aroace spectrum, Friendly Banter, Dialogue-Heavy, Queerplatonic Vibes, Second Person POV, Reader is a woman.

I am not sure how it turned into a queerplatonic fic with a Brienne on the aro/ace spectrum but hey, happy belated aro/ace week. Link to AO3 in the title below:

On The Seashore

“I swear, if I have to shake sand from my boots one more time, I'll snap.” You grumbled, pulling once again your weathered traveling boots on your feet.

“Might I remind you that getting this close to the coastline was your idea, milady?”

“Brienne, it's been three years we're on the road together, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me by my name?”

You could see her lips slightly tilting upwards and you knew her dry wit was about to come out to play once more.

“One more time, milady.”

You snorted. “One more time, my ass. I haven't been a lady since we took to the road. Just a common adventurer, that's all.”

“There's absolutely nothing common about you, milady, and if anyone dares to even imply anything of the sort, I'd be ready to duel them.”

“Yeah we've learned that in Sandstone with that one guy who was a little bit too friendly…”

“He grabbed your arm!”

“I know but we were trying to keep a low profile and you beating him up didn't really…”

“He insulted your honor! And mine too!”

You sighed. “Yes I know. Let's try not to beat anyone up in this village though. I'd like to lay low for a while.”

“Well we still have half a day of walking in front of us before we get there, that is, if Your Grace doesn't keep stopping every ten minutes to shake sand off your precious feet.”

“Well excuse me for not wanting the whole beach in my boots.”

The two of you kept going towards the village, bickering as you had become accustomed to over the time spent together.

“This must be heaven!” You kicked your feet up, forgetting your previous adversity for the sand, your boots next to your wicker seat in the cool shade of the palm trees.

“You have pretty low standards for the afterlife, milady, if all you require is a seat in the shade.”

“Brienne! Was your mission successful?”

You looked up at her silhouette, the sun behind her transforming her short hair in a golden halo. She looked even more like a goddess than usual.

“I have drinks and I have work opportunities so yes, I'd say my mission was indeed successful. And no duels yet, so you can rest easily.”

She handed you a tankard, keeping the second one in her hand.

You lost no time chugging down the first half in a long sip.

“Ahhhhhh now that's something that was sorely missing in my heaven. A drink! I could kiss you right now, Brienne!”

She did not reply, taking a sip of her own tankard, but as she sat down in the wicker chair next to your own, you noticed her ears were slightly pinker. How had she managed to get sunburned in such a short time? Oh well, she was very fair-skinned so it probably took very little. That might be why she always had her hood or her helmet on most days. But the Dornian heat and the quiet reputation of this village had convinced even the uptight Brienne of Tarth to lighten her kit.

“So you were talking about work?”

She swallowed her drink and replied, her voice uncharacteristically flustered:

“Yes. Hmm, well, they're looking for night guards for their granary. They've had quite the bountiful harvest and they want to keep it safe until the village fair.”

“Are there actual threats to the granary?”

“Not really. Seems to be mostly a precaution.”

“So a cushy gig. How's the pay?”

“Not great, but they'd let us stay here at this cottage on the beach for free and add one golden coin each per week.”

“Sunshine, the seaside, free lodging and decent pay? Sign me up for life!”

“What about your beloved adventures? What about being a free spirit and roaming the world?”

"I'm tired of adventures. How about we just get married and stay here?"

The silence that followed alerted you that something was wrong. You turned to your companion.

“Brienne?”

She was looking at you as if you had sprouted a second head.

"I'm sorry...did you just fucking propose?”

Woah. Brienne of Tarth, swearing? That was almost unheard of from your very proper companion, and only in very serious situations.

Not that you’d mind. Marrying her, that is. Quite the contrary. The past three years had easily been the happiest of your life, and you knew it had to do with her. Her constant presence by your side, her dry humor, her unwavering support and loyalty…she had become a column you hadn’t even realized how much you were leaning against until you took a step back and allowed yourself to admire her. And she was beautiful. Gods, was she beautiful.

You set your tankard down beside your chair, and turned to her, lifting your chin, fixing your eyes in hers with equal parts trepidation and boldness.

“What if I did?”

“This is not a subject for jesting, milady!”

“Who said I was jesting? And for all the Gods, stop calling me milady like I am some sort of court princess.”

“But you cannot...We wouldn’t…We’re two women!”

“Believe me, I noticed.” You smirked up at her, letting your eyes roam her tall figure, allowing her to see the appreciation in your eyes. She spluttered, her face turning a bright red that had no correlation with her previous sun exposure. (Had her reddened ears from before also been…oh. Well. Who’d have known. You might even have a chance then.)

“Milady! I…That’s not appropriate! The law doesn’t-”

“Brienne. For once, this is not about the law, religion, traditions, nor customs.” You stood up, and placed your hands on the armrests of her seat, boxing her in. Tall as she was, her head was level with yours. You had never been so close to her. You could see beads of perspiration crowning her forehead, you could drown in the blueness of her eyes, wide open in shock, both at your boldness and at your closeness.

She hadn’t pushed you away though. That had to count for something.

“Brienne?”

“Y-yes?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, hesitant and softer than you’d ever heard before. This was not Brienne the warrior speaking. She was Brienne the woman.

The woman you’d fallen for.

“I am going to tell you something. You just say the word, and we won’t have to talk about this again. We’ll go back to our adventuring as it was before and nothing will have changed. But I don’t want you to think this is some sort of joke. I am serious.”

She nodded, and you could see her lower lip quivering slightly, and her eyes widening even more.

“There’s nobody else in the whole world I would like to spend the rest of my life with. Nobody else I would gladly take an arrow for, nobody else I want to guard my back as I guard theirs. If there’s anything that the past three years have taught me is that my days of lonely wandering are done, as long as I can have you by my side. Would…would you consider becoming more than just traveling companions?”

She bit her lip, and let her gaze drop to her knees, as if unable to look you in the eyes anymore.

Oh.

The silence stretched for what felt like ages. The usually pleasant sounds of waves crashing against the seashore and seagulls crying out to each other felt like a dissonant song to your ears, when all you wanted to hear was her voice.

But you guessed her silence was telling you all there was to know.

“Very well.” You tried to keep the disappointment out of your voice as you straightened up, hands detaching from the wicker armrests, setting your companion free once again. “I’ll just… go check the water’s temperature. Be back in a bit.”

You almost scoffed at yourself. Sure. Check the water temperature. Like you gave a damn about the ocean right now. It could all dry up for all you cared.

You resisted the urge to kick at the sand in anger and frustration though. Mainly because you knew Brienne could be watching you, and you wanted to keep what little decorum you could. How could you be so stupid? To think that she might return your feelings, that you might have a chance with her. Ha. Clearly the blazing sun of Dorne had burnt off your common sense.

You let the cool seawater lap at your bare feet, forcing yourself to look at the horizon and take a deep breath of salty breeze.

It was okay. You’d gone through heartbreak before. You’d move on.

Another deep intake of breath.

You would not allow those tears that you felt prickling at your eyelids to fall. You were a grown woman. An adventurer. Not a silly girl with a crush.

A third breath. You closed your eyes, focusing on the sounds of seagulls, trying to shove all the feelings back in the little blackened and beaten container you called heart.

“Nobody has ever told me that.”

“HOLY SH- Brienne, you almost gave me a heart attack!” You twirled towards her, a hand on your chest as you tried to get your breathing back in control. How a woman of her size had managed to sneak behind you without you noticing was a testament both to her athleticism and to how out of it you were.

She pinned you with her gaze, hard and unflinching. The soft, blushing Brienne was gone. This was Brienne the warrior, once again. You realized you had fallen for her, too.

“Nobody has ever…wanted me.” She said that as if it was part question, part accusation. You didn’t know what to make of it. You shrugged.

“Well, apparently they’re all dumb as rocks and with no functioning eyes.”

She snorted. An inelegant sound that you found as endearing as the rest of her.

“Seriously, Brienne. You probably have a lot of people that admire you from afar. I’m just the one with the least amount of self-preservation instincts of them all.”

“You seem to have been doing pretty well so far.”

“Well, if you don’t smite me for daring to punch above my weight, I should live to see another day!” You smiled up at her, cheekily, trying to lighten up the mood. You weren’t going to give up on the friendship and camaraderie you two had built together just because your advances had been turned down. A fool, you might be, but not an utter imbecile.

You could see her lips pull up at the corners in a tiny but unmistakable smile at your antics.

“There it is! The smile of mercy! I shall live somewhat longer! Yay!”

She shook her head and gave you a small shove, almost throwing you completely off-balance.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ll take impossible as a title over milady anytime, so yep, that’s who I am! Also, please don’t throw me into the ocean, I can’t swim.”

“You can’t?”

“Nope! I’m a land rat, not a sea rat. Can you?”

“Of course! Everyone on Tarth learns how to.”

“Well, you’ll have to teach me at some point, but throwing me in is not how I’d like to go about it, thank you very much.”

Her hand landed on your shoulder, gripping it strongly, and you looked up to see that the smile had gone, and her expression was now closed off, and serious.

“I…wouldn’t be opposed to it.” She ground out, as if it was physically difficult for her to even say it.

“To teaching me how to swim?”

“No, to a… relationship. I…I like to spend time with you.” She looked like she was telling the truth but also like she was extremely uncomfortable doing so. You felt your heart break again, this time for her.

“As do I, but we can still have that. This is not an ultimatum, Brienne, I would never put you in that position.” Just the thought she would be willing to start a relationship she clearly wasn’t keen on not to lose your company was…both horrifying and heartwarming, to be honest.

“It’s not that. I…I am not good with…romance. It doesn’t come as easy to me as it seems to be for other people. I don’t know how to go about it.”

You put your own hand on top of hers, on your shoulder, trying to find the right words.

“Hey. There is no right or wrong way. And there is no hurry. We can give it a try and see where it goes. If not, we’ll just be good friends that adventure together, alright?”

She seemed to ponder this, her eyes on your hand covering her own. You gave her the time to do so.

“I would like that.”

You smiled tenderly up at her. This was so hard for her, always used to be the paradigm of perfection, of valor, of morals. The fact that she was able to challenge herself enough to go out on a limb with a relationship for you, of all people, made your heart skip a beat in your chest.

“We will take things as slowly as you’d like, and you feel free to tell me at any time if you’re uncomfortable, okay?”

You could see the tension leave her eyes, and her face opened up in a hopeful smile.

“You’d do that…for me?”

“But of course! We have all the time in the world, milady!” You smirked, throwing the title back at her and seeing her resigned grimace at the nickname.

“No more miladys, alright?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for years! Now. That drink is getting warm and that’s not something we can allow. Shall we?”

You gallantly offered her your hand to hold in a very bad imitation of a nobleman asking a woman at court to dance. She shook her head, but accepted your hand, and you both turned your back to the sun, looking at your conjoined shadows on the sand in front of you with a look of incredulous joy on both of your faces.

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wolfjackle-creates · 2 years ago

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WIP Wednesday

Enjoy another snippet of the fic about ghost Robin haunting Jason! I really need to think up a title. Maybe I'll brainstorm some ideas and put out a poll to see what everyone likes.

Part 1 is here

And onto part 2 (1.2k words)!

-----

Looks like he was breaking his promise to Jazz to not do any ghostly business tonight. Of course Jazz’s boyfriend would be haunted by a ghost that needed help. Why was he even surprised? He adjusted the strap of his backpack to hold it more firmly. Hopefully something he’d brought would be enough and it’d be just a matter of getting Robin alone for a few minutes.

Jazz let go of Danny’s hand to take Jason’s as he led them down a hallway. Robin tightened his grip on Alfred before letting go and giving Danny a sad smile. Both Jason and Robin would point to objects and rooms as they passed. Danny paid extra attention to the items Robin pointed out that Jason ignored: a crack in the wall, a mark that had never been painted over, the chandelier he decided to hang from for a few seconds.

Voices echoed out of one of the upcoming rooms, and Jason slowed. Jazz leaned over to whisper something in his ear. Robin had the opposite reaction and shot a grin at Danny and flew to the doorway, waving him to come inside.

Danny couldn’t help but smile back at his obvious excitement. Jazz caught his expression and narrowed her eyes at him. Oh, she was not going to let this go.

With a deep breath, Jason entered the room, Jazz and Danny right behind him. “Hey everyone, this is Jazz’s brother Danny.”

Inside, too many people were gathered on a collection of chairs and couches. One man was sitting upside down on a chair, his feet on the back cushion and head inches from the ground. He grinned at them and did a flip that somehow ended with him on his feet and halfway across the room in the space of a breath. Robin cartwheeled to him.

“Hey, Danny, I’m Jason’s older brother Dick! Glad you could make it. Jazz says you’re always busy.” He held out his hand to shake, unknowingly passing it right through Robin.

Danny couldn’t help but look at where the arm passed through the ghost, but did have the wherewithal to shake Dick’s hand.

“Dick? You really use that by choice?” The words were out of his mouth before he could think. Embarrassed, he slapped his other hand over his mouth at the same time Jazz hissed a warning at him. “Shit! I mean—”

Only to be cut off by everyone laughing. Dick waved off his apology. “My parents were immigrants and it’s what they called me. After they died, I decided to stick with it. Don’t worry, I’ve heard all the jokes.”

“He’s made most of them, too,” added another black-haired boy. This one looked to be close to Danny’s age. “I’m Tim. We’re glad you could make it. Jazz mentioned you’re usually busy with work?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. But I spent the last few weeks making sure I could get tonight free with minimal chance of interruption.” Not that it worked, his eyes flicked to Robin who was now hugging Bruce Wayne, the only person of the bunch he recognized on sight. And, what was that feeling radiating off Bruce Wayne? It was like liminality, but not quite. Had he died?

“Welcome to my home, Danny,” Bruce Wayne stood and came over to shake his hand with a wide grin on his face. “I’m Bruce and these are my kids.”

“Oi! Don’t call me your kid!” protested a blonde girl. “Hey there, I’m Steph and I’m just here for the food and to give Jason a hard time.” She also felt strange. Not a ghost, but the touch of death lingered. What sort of family had Jazz gotten involved in?

The rest of the group introduced themselves. Both Damian and Cass were liminal as well. So, out of the ten people he’d met tonight, three of them had died and two were as liminal as Sam, Tucker, and Jazz.

Completely ignoring the fact that Danny was trying to come to terms with all the death in what was supposed to be a normal rich family, Robin was doing even more antics to get his attention. He greeted Dick just as warmly as he had Bruce and Alfred. Cass, Tim, and Damian were the other three he seemed to like the most, though they didn’t get hugs. He didn’t react at all to Steph or Duke. He sat on Barbara’s lap for a minute, too, before returning to Dick’s side.

No one noticed the ghost desperate for their attention. Not even Jazz.

Barbara took the time to point out where the drinks were located and Danny looked over the selection of pop before grabbing a coke. He closed his eyes at the satisfying sound of the tab opening and sighed at the first taste.

One of the boys laughed and said, “You’re acting like you haven’t had a coke before.”

“Nope. I’m acting like I love coke and haven’t had any pop at all in ages.” He plopped down on a couch next to Jazz who ruffled his hair.

“Have you been traveling that long?”

Danny shrugged. “How long ago was our last phone call?”

“You don’t remember? Last week.”

“Grandpa had me doing favors for him. He dropped me off this morning.”

Jazz huffed in the way that indicated she was very annoyed. But it’s not like Danny could just not do the things Clockwork asked of him. Besides, his most recent trip was fun. He’d gone to another planet! He couldn’t wait until he could tell Jazz all about it.

Jason looked at them curiously. “You’ve never mentioned a grandfather before, Jazz.”

“Oh, he’s not really our grandfather. Just someone who helped Danny out once and decided to stick around. They’ve gotten close over the past few years. He’s fond of me, too, but we don’t have the same relationship.”

“Grandpa’s great. If infuriating at times. But favors for him are always interesting.”

“Next time feel free to invite him,” offered Bruce.

The image of Clockwork in Wayne Manor caused Danny to snort into his coke. “I don’t think he’d fit in here,” was all he said. Though maybe Robin would appreciate another ghostly visitor.

Dick did a cartwheel and landed upside down on an armchair. “What, too uptight for the likes of us?”

The last prank he and Clockwork had played on the Observants played in his mind and he smiled wider. “Not at all. You just come from different worlds.”

“I’ll have you know I grew up on the streets in Crime Alley.”

“I was a circus performer.”

“I was raised a rich kid through and through, but I hardly spend times in the upper echelons of society.”

“My dad’s in prison.”

“I’m a librarian.”

“I’m a foster kid.”

Danny held a hand up and laughed. They were still from different worlds, but he couldn’t explain he meant Earth versus the Infinite Realms. “I get it, I get it. I’ll let him know next time.”

“If he’s still in the area, you should invite him,” said Dick. “Alfred’s food is to die for.” Robin was hanging upside down next to Dick nodding solemnly.

Danny tried to stop himself, he really did. He even managed to keep from saying he’d been there done that, but he couldn’t keep from laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.

-----

Part 3

And for the tag list!

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jason todd #batfam #anger management #theres so many ppl in the room #makes it hard to write!#how do you fit so many huge personalities into one room?#and give them all the time they deserve?#i'm gonna try my best #this fic is like 90% dialogue

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cerealxperimentslain · 3 months ago

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let me show you an example of liberal zionist dishonesty and intentional misinterpretation

ID: a post by @transmascpetewentz:

“>oh look a new leftist youtuber who seems cool!

>checks their blog

>sees a video about "colonialism"

>asks them if they are talking about real colonialism or are just being antisemitic

>"what's the difference?"

>pulls out a chart explaining the difference between anti colonialism and antisemitism

>"it's a good video sir"

>look inside

>it's a 2 hour long rant about how (((they))) are in so many positions of power/are well respected for being good at their jobs and how that is allegedly bad because of palestine

#wentz.txt #antisemitism #this post is about dr fatima on youtube but can apply to others”

End ID.

taken at face value, this post would seem to point out a leftist youtuber who made a video of a half baked rant of nothing but antisemitic conspiracy theories. that would be bad, if that were the case. but since he so graciously mentioned the youtuber in question, i went and looked her up. Dr. Fatima has 12 videos total, and only one of them mentions colonialism in the title or thumbnail, this one:

youtube

i highly highly recommend watching the whole video (it is captioned), but it is quite long so the tldr is: this is a video mostly about the building of telescopes on colonised Hawai’ian land, specifically the sacred mountain Mauna Kea, and how scientific pursuit is not exempt from perpetuating colonialism. Dr. Fatima also talks about the genocide in Gaza, and the colonisation of Palestine, to contextualise and draw parallels between the two situations (Hawai’i & Palestine). Here’s a quote from two hours and ten minutes into the video:

“I spent SO much time back in grad school trying to understand why so many of my colleagues, who I knew to be reasonable and intelligent, seemed so wholly unperturbed at what our field [astronomy] was doing. And in recent months I found myself asking the exact same question about Palestine.”

this person either didn’t watch the video, or he did watch the video and didn’t understand a word that was said. there’s also the possibility that he did watch the video and understood perfectly what it was about, and maliciously decided to wildly mischaracterise the video to discourage his followers from watching it, or any of Dr. Fatima’s other videos.

because there is no good faith explanation for how you get “it's a 2 hour long rant about how (((they))) are in so many positions of power/are well respected for being good at their jobs and how that is allegedly bad because of palestine” from this:

Transcript:

“So I think we have enough context now that I can just come out and say the thesis of this video: the plan to build TMT on Mauna Kea, as well as the building of the telescopes that preceded it, is inherently colonial. Hawaii is a settler society where the self-determination of the native population that was nearly genocided out of existence is secondary to the utility their land brings to the United States, primarily as a military outpost, but also whatever else it can be useful for. At one point that was plantations, today it’s generally tourism, but on Mauna Kea, it is astronomy. The land the telescopes are on make them inseparable from the colonial power that controls that land. And this dynamic is underscored by the consistency of objections to their building by Indigenous voices.

And here is the really hard a to swallow part: any benefit astronomers careers gain from the use of telescopes on that land comes at the direct cost of indigenous people's alienation from it. If you think I'm being unfair because Hawaii's colonization already happened and building one more telescope doesn't change anything, you're still paying more attention to made up things like property laws and the American government than the material conditions of people's access and relationship to land. Calling the police to arrest native elders who are just standing on their land so we can build another telescope is not dissimilar to Israel bombing the shit out of Palestinians just living on their land so it can build another settlement. And if you think I'm being dramatic by comparing genocide in Palestine to building a telescope, then you're still paying more attention to the purported intention of astronomers than the long standing, violent, exploitative and still present colonial institutions that grant them power. (e.g. the police, the military, universities, government agencies, etc) Colonization is an ongoing process and the difference between Hawaii and Palestine is that in the former, there aren't enough indigenous people left to pose an existential threat to settlers, and the latter, the indigenous population is still the slight majority. Or at least they still were as of this 2018 report. [98] Honestly, this year might tip it.

And if you think I'm exaggerating the connection between the two, please remember that the United States government is involved in both far off places for exactly the same reason: their use as military outposts, one in the Middle East and one in the Pacific. That is the joint cause of both of these conflicts today: the geopolitical interests of Western imperialism. This is why you might have seen those multi-nation calls for liberation recently: Free Palestine, Free Sudan, Free Congo, Free Haiti, Free Hawaii, and beyond— not as separate issues, but as different interconnected manifestations of the same problem.”

End transcript.

in using this video to be anti-palestinian, he is also being incredibly racist and anti-indigenous by downplaying the colonisation of Hawai’i. implying that the desecration of the sacred land of a colonised people doesn’t count as “real colonialism”, interpreting “scientists in the imperial core shouldn’t participate in exploitative and colonialist practices” fucking somehow as “being good at their jobs and that is allegedly bad”. i guess?? honestly i have no fucking idea what that last paragraph in the post is even supposed to be about.

like i keep wondering if i somehow have the wrong video, but i don’t know of any other leftist youtubers called dr. Fatima who made a video over two hours long about colonialism that brings up Palestine. the more obvious explanation is that he just made shit up

i guess this bit 37 minutes into the video probably hit too close to home

ID: a quote in front of a green background:

"Let me be clear: Antisemitism in the U.S. is a real and dangerous phenomenon, most pressingly from the alt-right white-supremacist politics that have become alarmingly mainstream since 2016. To contend against these and other antisemitic forces with clarity and purpose, we must put aside all fabricated and weaponized charges of "antisemitism" that serve to silence criticism of Israeli policy and its sponsors in the U.S."

--Bernie Steinberg

End ID.

#transmascpetewentz #i had much more to say about this guy but i decided against it #i wanted more focus to be on the video and the message in it #just know that he is a self proclaimed zionist who’s joked about how he is spreading zionist propaganda #im wording this as if im in any way surprised that someone would lie on the internet like this #really it doesn’t surprise me at all that he would bold faced lie like this. he and his mutuals circle does this all the time

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pantoneyoongi · 1 year ago

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neon signs | let's talk about it

title ; let’s talk about it pairing ; campus crush!yoongi x campus crush!you

notes ;

this is part of the neon signs drabble series, where drabbles are released in random order (but listed chronologically in the masterlist!)

series description ;

namjoon doesn’t think it can get any clearer outside of yoongi building a giant neon sign saying i have the absolute biggest crush on you but apparently, book smarts don’t exactly translate when it comes to you and your massive crush on min yoongi. (alternatively: namjoon and hoseok try for three years straight to get you and yoongi together.)

word count ; 1k

tags ; yoongi gets a little violent (no hoseoks were harmed in this chapter), probably (definitely) excessive cursing, fluff, pls go to masterlist for more / general tags

yoongi is not a violent man by any means. he’s rather patient, actually, and generally tolerant of a good many things.

but he is going to kill hoseok.

yoongi glares up at his ceiling, resisting the urge to scream. hoseok, you fucking - fuck. fucking fucker fuck.

he’s so frustrated he’s run out of creative insults.

yoongi thrashes around on his bed, rolling onto his stomach and slamming his face into his pillow. his roommate isn’t here today, so he can be as odd as he wants without earning questioning stares.

with a huff, yoongi twists around to lay on his back again. why would hoseok leave him with this information and nothing else? did yoongi do something to piss off his best friend and now hoseok is being petty? how else is he supposed to explain why hoseok ever so casually passed on the information that someone flirted with you today and maybe asked you out, too?

yoongi knows. yoongi knows even without hoseok adding fuel to the fire by shrugging his shoulders and saying, “well, she is popular around campus, yoongi. did you really think no one would ask her out eventually?” he knows. you’re everybody’s favorite and it was bound to happen eventually. it probably happens all the time, actually. but ignorance is bliss and now yoongi can’t stop thinking about what your response might’ve been because hoseok - the worst friend on the planet - pretended to knock the fuck out immediately after delivering this information.

“hoseok,” yoongi had hissed. “hoseok, wake the fuck- i know you are not sleeping right now-”

hoseok even had the audacity to let his lips twitch in amusement, proving to yoongi he was awake. but if anybody asked hoseok, he’d swear up and down that it’s not his fault yoongi is so painfully obvious and simultaneously impressively stupid, and therefore the easiest target to tease.

yoongi ‘accidentally’ slammed the door on the way out (and then peeked back into the room just in case that ‘woke’ hoseok up) then shut the door again and grumbled the entire way back to his own dorm.

and now here he is. laying in his own bed, devastated.

he’s gonna murder hoseok.

yoongi taps his foot against the ground repeatedly. for someone who can fall asleep at the drop of a hat, yoongi is unusually restless today, and namjoon eyes him suspiciously. yoongi’s arms are crossed, staring at a spot just past namjoon’s head, but when his eyes dart to namjoon for the third time since they sat down, namjoon straightens, expression flattening.

“what do you wanna know, yoongi,” namjoon’s voice comes out more like a sigh, like he’s the most exhausted person on the planet. yoongi clears his throat. yoongi generally has the blank-eyed stare down pat, but his friends are quick studies and can tell the difference by now between when he’s actually not paying attention vs when he’s just pretending not to.

considering yoongi’s spent the past ten minutes trying to find the most casual way to ask namjoon if his best friend is now taken, it’s safe to say yoongi’s brain definitely has the on switch flipped up.

“nothing, i just-”

“yoongs!” you slide into the seat next to him at the student center, then spot namjoon across from him. “joonie!” namjoon hums his response.

there’s no way yoongi can ask now. not when you start off on a tangent before either of the boys have a chance to get a word in otherwise, complete with animated hand motions and dramatic narration that have you leaning in real close to yoongi (and namjoon, but yoongi cares more about his personal space being taken up by you and how he’d let you do this literally anytime you want) - and yoongi can only watch with helpless affection until you finish telling your story.

“so that’s how my day is going,” you drawl, then twist to yoongi. “what are you up to?”

he shrugs, because he really only came out here in an attempt to interrogate namjoon before you spotted them and inserted yourself into the conversation yoongi didn’t even manage to actually start. he hesitates, then as subtly as he can, tilts his head slightly and says, “i heard you have a boyfriend now?”

your brows furrow. namjoon coughs into his drink, squinting at yoongi like he’s sprouted a second head. you frown down at the table, unaware of the silent exchange between namjoon and yoongi that goes something like:

namjoon: this is a joke right yoongi: i’m so serious rn namjoon: for someone so smart you are so dumb

both boys clear their expression when you raise your head and purse your lips at yoongi. “who did you hear that from?”

yoongi fumbles. “just. someone,” he scratches the tip of his nose. “or maybe it was that someone asked you out?”

you light up in recognition. “oh! yeah, that did happen. that was really weird.”

yoongi can’t stop himself when he leans towards you in exasperated confusion. “weird?” it’s weird someone asked out the most popular girl on campus?

but you don’t expand on it, instead opting to spend your time bothering namjoon, while yoongi wages an entire two minute war in his head because while you’d looked confused about it all, there was definitely no clear answer on whether or not you actually said yes to the weird person who asked you out. yoongi is going to lose it if he doesn’t get some goddamn answers.

“so what’d you say?” he tries to go for casual, though the judgmental look on namjoon’s face right now suggests it’s anything but. it flies right over your head though, and you drop the pencil that you were using to doodle on namjoon’s papers to turn back to yoongi.

“hm?” you fiddle with the pencil. “no, of course. i didn’t really know him like that. i wasn’t interested.” you laugh, and the sound fills yoongi with relief, and he lets out a quiet, half-amused huff in return.

“no,” he repeats after you. “of course.” no, of course.

“yoongi, let’s talk about it,” hoseok walks backwards with his hands up, as yoongi heads towards him. “come on, buddy. you know i’d tell you if she actually said yes-! dude!”

series masterlist ; neon signs

taglist ; @thelilbutifulthings @bbsantc @chickentenderx @taegijns @princxssly82 @manuosorioh @sugaluvmyg @medicinemybish

#yoongi x you #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x yn #yoongi x y/n #yoongi #did u miss them bc i sure did #sugaluvmyg #medicinemybish #sorry the @ wasn't working so hopefully the tags do #series: nsyg

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emma-m-black · 2 months ago

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Soul Mate Magic - Chapter Six

Rupert Giles x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

A new magical transfer comes to Sunnydale High, and ends up discovering a magical connection with our favorite Watcher.

OC is 19+ (Not a Minor), Age Gap, Slow Burn-ish (with a little preview thrown in there during the Bandy Candy Episode).

This will be a multi chapter story I don't know how spicy it will get yet, but I'll rate it Mature just to be safe.

Author Master List

Read: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five

Chapter Six

It was Monday morning, and Rose stood outside the walls of Sunnydale High, staring at the cold, unyielding concrete. She had spent Sunday locked away in her room, replaying the events of Saturday over and over in her mind. The memories were all too clear—Giles, the magic, the heat between them. While the others seemed to have moved on, pretending as if the madness of Ethan’s spell had never happened, Rose remembered everything. Maybe Giles didn’t remember. The thought gnawed at her. If he did, how could he live with the guilt? How could she?

“Hey, Rose,” Willow’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “How are you… umm… feeling today?”

Rose hesitated, torn between the truth and what was easier. “A little out of sorts. Saturday’s kind of a blur, and I had the worst brain fog yesterday.”

Willow’s eyes widened with concern. “So you don’t remember anything after Friday?”

“I remember talking to Mr. Giles about some books, then you, Buffy, and Xander brought us that chocolate, but after that…” She shrugged, feigning confusion.

“Are you heading to class?” Willow asked, though her tone suggested she wasn’t sure if she should leave Rose alone.

“I was going to stop by the library first,” Rose said, her voice tightening. The weight of what she needed to do pressed down on her chest.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Willow asked, too quickly.

“No, I’ll be fine. I just need to grab a book.” Rose offered a tight smile, sensing Willow’s worry but brushing it aside. She needed to speak to Giles, and she needed to do it alone. “I’ll meet you in English in like ten minutes, okay?”

Willow lingered for a moment before nodding. “Okay…”

Rose’s stomach twisted as she approached the library. Her pulse quickened, each step pulling her closer to the confrontation she wasn’t sure she was ready for. When she pushed open the library door, the familiar scent of old books and polished wood greeted her. Giles stood near the shelves, his back to her as he slid a book into its place.

He turned at the sound of her entrance, his face shifting from mild curiosity to a rigid mask as his gaze landed on her. “Good morning, Mr. Giles,” Rose greeted, her voice unsteady.

“Mr. Giles,” he muttered, almost to himself, like the title was a bitter joke.

“Could we talk for a moment?” Rose’s heart raced as memories of Saturday flooded her mind—Giles’s touch, their kiss, him on top of her, and their magical connection.

“Of… of course. What can I help you with today?” His voice was composed, but his movements were stiff. He stayed rooted in place, his hands buried deep in his pockets, as if afraid to move closer.

“I remember everything,” Rose said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Giles’s eyes hardened. “Remember what?”

Rose stepped forward. “Are we really going to do this, Rupert?”

At the mention of his name, Giles flinched. He stepped back, retreating as if her words burned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ms. Murphy. And I’d prefer if you referred to me as Mr. Giles.”

Rose’s shoulders sagged, her heart sinking at his cold tone. “Is this how it’s going to be now? We weren’t in control. It wasn’t—”

“Again, Ms. Murphy, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Giles interrupted, his voice sharper now, a strained edge cutting through his usual calm. His gaze locked on hers, but there was something behind it—a flicker of pain, of self-loathing that he was trying so hard to hide.

Rose felt her pulse throb in her throat. “We need to talk about what happened.”

Giles’s face twisted, and he took two steps forward, his shoes hitting the floor with a hard, deliberate thud. The sound echoed through the library like a gavel coming down. “I am your elder! I took advantage of you!” His voice rose, the rawness in his tone betraying the facade of composure he was struggling to maintain. “What happened between us was a mistake—a violation of everything I stand for. And we will never speak of it again. Do you understand?”

Rose stood frozen, her breath caught in her chest. The pain in his voice was undeniable, but so was the anger, the regret. He was consumed by it, suffocating under the weight of his guilt, and it was tearing him apart.

She took a hesitant step forward. “Please, I just—”

“I am a mentor at this school. You are its student. There is nothing more to say.” His voice cracked slightly, betraying him for a brief second before the cold mask returned. “If you don’t need academic assistance, I suggest you leave.”

Rose’s hands balled into fists at her sides. “Fine,” she said, her voice trembling with frustration. “If you can’t be an adult and talk about this, then I’ll leave. But we can’t pretend it didn’t happen, because it did.”

Giles’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, Rose thought he might break. But instead, he turned away, his shoulders stiff. “There is nothing to discuss. Now please… leave before you’re late for class.”

Turning on her heel, Rose left the library, her mind reeling. She could feel the pressure in her chest building, the lump in her throat making it hard to swallow. She was never one to get emotional, but it was taking everything in her not to cry as she walked down the long, dimly lit halls toward her class. The walls seemed to close in around her, and the sounds of students’ distant chatter barely reached her ears. All she could hear was the echo of Giles’s harsh words, the cold dismissal ringing louder than any bell.

When she finally reached her classroom, Rose was relieved to find that Willow was nowhere to be seen. She needed a moment to collect herself, to get her emotions in check before facing anyone else. Sitting in her usual seat, Rose let her shoulders slump, her body sagging with the weight of exhaustion and frustration. She retrieved her books from her bag, but they felt like dead weight in her hands.

Minutes passed. Still, no Willow. Rose tapped her fingers absently on the desk, her eyes drifting to the clock. Just as the bell rang, Willow slipped in through the doorway, rushing over to sit across from Rose, slightly breathless.

“Willow, where have you been?” Rose asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

“Sorry, Buffy needed something,” Willow replied quickly, her words tumbling out as if she’d rehearsed them in her head on the way. She glanced nervously at Rose, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “So, umm… did you find the book you were looking for?”

The question felt off, like Willow was trying too hard, still probing for something Rose wasn’t ready to talk about. It hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken questions.

“No,” Rose said, her tone flat. “The library didn’t have what I was looking for.”

Willow’s eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, searching for any sign of what Rose might be hiding. But Rose kept her expression neutral, unwilling to let anyone in—not even Willow. The rest of the class passed in a blur, but Rose couldn’t shake the sense that Willow was still watching her, trying to figure her out.

As the morning crawled by, Rose couldn’t help but notice that Willow stayed unusually close, sticking by her side through their classes and even while walking the halls. It was as if she was keeping an eye on her, making sure Rose didn’t slip away, both physically and emotionally.

Now, standing in line for lunch, Willow cleared her throat, her voice tentative. “So, the gang was going to go to the Bronze tonight, and I wondered if you wanted to come with?”

Rose hesitated, the thought of being around everyone made her stomach tighten. “I don’t know. I was kind of just planning on catching up on some sleep after studying tonight.”

“Please come,” Willow pressed, her voice hopeful. “We could even study together after classes today before we go.”

Rose sighed, glancing at her friend. Willow’s eyes were wide, pleading, and it was hard to say no when she looked like that. “Fine, but I don’t want to stay out too late.”

“Scout’s honor, we’ll leave before nine,” Willow replied with a bright smile, raising her palm in a mock salute.

“You weren’t in Scouts, were you?” Rose asked, a small, reluctant laugh escaping her lips.

“Nope,” Willow said, her grin widening.

Rose blinked, trying to suppress the laughter that was bubbling up against her will. She didn’t want to feel better. She wanted to be angry, to wallow in her own self-pity. But, as always, Willow was making that impossible.

As they moved through the cafeteria line, Willow continued chatting, her voice light and filled with that familiar, rambling quality Rose had come to rely on.

“So, did you figure out that math problem yet?” Willow asked, grabbing a tray and loading it with food, her movements quick and practiced.

Rose sighed. “Barely. Why does Mr. Hopkins insist on making everything feel like quantum physics? It’s geometry, not rocket science.”

Willow giggled. “He does like to make everything sound ten times more complicated than it is. I spent an hour on that stupid triangle problem before I realized I’d read the question wrong.”

Xander appeared next to them, tray in hand. “Math talk? Really? I thought we had a sacred, unspoken rule: no math during lunch. Or, you know, ever.”

Rose gave him a tight smile. “Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities, Xander.”

“Look, I’m just saying,” he replied, mock-serious. “Math is like... the broccoli of school subjects. Nobody really wants it, but they tell you it’s good for you.”

Buffy joined them as they reached the end of the line, sliding into the conversation easily. “Yeah, but you can smother broccoli in cheese. Can’t really do that with math.”

Xander grinned. “True, true. Cheese does make everything better.”

Willow laughed as they headed toward their usual table. “Maybe we could start a petition to replace math with cheese appreciation. You’d actually ace that class, Xander.”

“Finally, a subject I can excel in!” he said with an exaggerated sigh of relief.

Buffy rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched in amusement. “You’d probably get extra credit for knowing all the different kinds.”

Rose stayed quiet as they sat down, her tray feeling heavier than it should have. The conversation buzzed around her, but her mind kept drifting back to the morning, to Giles’s sharp voice and icy demeanor. She forced herself to focus on the here and now, trying to ground herself in the normalcy of lunchtime with her friends.

The rest of the conversation was light, the usual banter flying around the table, but beneath it, Rose could feel the tension. It was subtle, but there—like an undercurrent no one wanted to acknowledge. She could feel Xander’s eyes on her, his glances lingering too long, and she knew exactly what he was thinking about. The memory of her—half-naked, vulnerable—flickered in his mind just as it did in hers.

She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, the familiar shame washing over her like a wave. But she reminded herself again and again—it wasn’t her. It wasn’t her choice. What she did wasn’t the real her.

At least, not the her she wanted to be.

When lunch ended, the group began to scatter, heading off to their respective classes. Willow, whom Rose wouldn’t see again until the end of the day, was walking backward, her usual awkward enthusiasm lighting up her face.

“So, meet you at the library at three!” she called out, her voice bright as she spun around and sprinted down the hall before Rose could even respond.

Rose watched her disappear, a groan escaping her lips as she muttered under her breath, “Dammit.”

Chapter Seven

#buffy the vampire slayer fanfic #Rupert Giles #Rupert Giles x OC #Rupert Giles/OC #Rupert Giles FanFiction #Rupert Giles FanFic #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffyverse

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tj-dragonblade · 3 months ago

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Fic Talk

Tagged by @seiya-starsniper @dsudis and @valeriianz - thanks! This is a fun new set of questions I haven't seen circulating before!

How many wips do you have currently? …Uhhhhh. Ahaha. Let me go calculate just a minute. Okay. There are 13 wips that are proper individual files with varying probabilities of actually getting finished. There are three additional individual files that are not proper wips, just notes/synopsis of ideas I've had and would like to write. Then there is the original 'Scribs' file that I originally started jotting notes in with ten more 'wips' that may or may not ever be finished, plus three more of the notes/synopsis-level ideas, and a handful of one-line or song-title ideas.

Which one are you finding the hardest to finish? Why do you think that is? Any of the older ones, honestly, entirely for lack of focus. I am hoping to force myself into giving at least one of them the attention it needs for a bingo square. Because when I make myself focus on one, make myself buckle down and work on it, I can usually make it happen. I can do it for Fluffbruary; therefore I can do it elsewhere too. But there is always some new idea coming along that is very distracting and then there's the problem of Which Do I Want to Work On? and getting a burst of idea for this one and then a few lines of inspiration for that one and I wind up with far too much time spent re-reading all of them and, if I'm lucky, adding a line or two to a handful of them.

What does it usually look like when inspiration strikes for you? Obsessively typing away at my phone, frequently (and unfortunately) when I'm meant to be working. Trying to capture as much of the momentum as possible while it's there.

Do you curate playlists for each fic or is your process different? No. I have a couple different playlists of 'Dreamling Vibes' that I will sometimes put on, but nothing really fic specific. But chances are if a song is part of the springboard for the fic, I have put it on repeat at least half the time I was writing. 'Bus Stop' broke into my top 25 most played songs while writing its fic, for the record.

Do you go balls to the wall and write as you go or are you more organised? There is very little about my process that can be called organized. I write whatever's coming to me and make notes about things I wanted to do that I didn't get written out yet so I don't forget the next time I come back to it. It's frequently non-linear. I'm easily distracted by shiny new ideas. I count it a feat worth celebrating when I actually get something finished and posted.

Tagging, no obligation, tag me into your already-existing posts etc: @chaosheadspace @staroftheendless @teejaystumbles @the-apocrypha @kydrogendragon

#Tagmemes #TJs Writing

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harryforvogue · 2 years ago

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the one where mia still hates horror movies and harry gets distracted far too easily. this contains smut and is about 4k words. happy reading <3

***

“I do not want to watch this,” Mia says for the fourth time in the past ten minutes. Normally, her insistence of not trying anything new would bother Harry, who’s typing the movie’s title into the streaming platform for tonight's choice, but he doesn’t pay much attention to her. Because he’s waited several months for the movie to start streaming. And he’s not going to let his girlfriend talk him out of watching it.

She’s already done it once. When it came out in the movie theaters, he’d asked Mia to watch it with him, only to be hit with just a resounding “NO” that he never brought himself to ask again. It’s not as if anyone else would go see it with him anyways. His sister only goes to the movies to see comedies. Zack only goes to the cinema to fall asleep in a comfortable recliner, and anyone else would just piss Harry off too much.

He’d asked Mia once and then never again. It was a risk asking her anyways. She doesn’t like horror films. But Harry can’t help loving them. And he goes to see whatever she wants to in the cinema.

So after waiting long months and avoiding spoilers like the plague, the movie is finally out and Harry will not let his wimp of a girlfriend stop him from enjoying it.

So he shrugs in response to her petulance and flips the duvet back over her side of the bed. “Fine. Then, don’t.”

“But I want to spend time with you.”

He flips the duvet again, patting the mattress invitingly. “Then come.”

“No.”

Flip. “Okay.”

“Why can’t we watch something we both want?”

“Because I have been waiting for this movie for a long time and I haven’t seen a decent horror film in months. Look.” He sighs and gestures to the shopping bag he came home with. “I’ve got your favorite snacks. And you don’t have to watch all of it. Just come here and look away when it gets really bad.”

Harry removes a bag of popcorn and opens it. He pops one in his mouth and smiles, tilting his head back on the stack of pillows behind him. He holds his hand out. “Come here, baby.”

“No. I don’t like you.”

“Mhmm. Come here.”

She stares at him for several long seconds and then gives in, reaching for his hand. Harry knows she’s not going to be able to resist him.

Mia’s spent the entire day following him around like a lost puppy, running her hand over his face. He’s grown out a bit of stubble, which Mia is completely enamored by. She’s not a fan of facial hair normally, but he’s tidied it up a lot. He’s cleaned up his upper cheeks and neck. She’s kissed his face several times today.

She’s also been very vocal about his hair. The way one side of it flops over his brow. It’s long enough now that his curl pattern is returning. It’s more like a wave right now, but Mia seems to be loving it.

He slides her closer once she’s in bed, settling the duvet around her. She even opens her mouth when he presses popcorn to her lips.

“Can you just tell me when something is about to happen?”

Mia’s already got her arms around him, laying right beneath his shoulder. She takes a deep breath, but Harry knows she’s actually taking in his scent. She does it a lot. He especially loves it when her shoulders relax after she smells him. He wraps his arm around her waist.

“I haven’t seen the movie so I don’t know when it’ll get scary but I’ll try my best.”

She’s not satisfied with that answer, judging by the way she slides down and mumbles something along the lines of “yeah, whatever”.

He presses play and then reaches over to turn his lamp off.

Mia immediately complains, “No, it’s too dark. Now it’ll get too scary.”

Harry takes a small handful of popcorn and pushes it into her mouth. “Shut up.”

She accepts the popcorn and chews angrily. But at least she stays silent after that.

The movie starts the way all horror movies do: happy. And Mia watches silently. Somewhere around the five minute mark, she reaches for Harry’s hand and tucks it under her chin. Occasionally, she’ll press a kiss to it before returning her attention to the screen.

But of course, the tensions begin to brew, and Mia’s hand tightens around Harry’s, almost to the point of discomfort. And after the first jumpscare (and scream from Mia), Harry sighs and raises the duvet, throwing it over her head.

“Just stay there until the scene passes,” he says, partially to help her, but mostly to avoid his eardrum bursting from her next scream.

She slides down and buries her face in his stomach, whining. “I hate this.”

He pats her covered head. “I know.”

“I hate you.”

“Totally.”

“I wanna watch something else.”

“Mm, too bad.”

“I can’t breathe down here.”

“Also too bad.”

She groans and raises Harry’s shirt, putting her head against the flat plane of his stomach, where his butterfly tattoo rests. His muscles clench as he bites down a laugh. She sighs and kisses his skin before laying her cheek down.

“You know,” he says, once he’s contained himself, “saying you can’t breathe and then putting another layer over your face isn’t the smartest decision.”

“I could punch your dick right now and you wouldn’t be able to do anything,” Mia retorts.

She’s got him there. Harry knows she won’t do anything, but if he’s learned anything about her, it’s that it’s best not to provoke her to the edge of insanity.

He just pats her head and continues watching.

Mia says, “I can still hear it.”

“I can’t really help with that, baby.”

She presses her fingers to his hip, poking hard. He doesn’t shift, but he’s suddenly very aware of where her hand is. How close it is to…other places.

Her fingers walk over to the other hip, slowly, exploring his warm skin as if it’s the first time. Harry swallows and doesn’t move, letting her. He waits for her fingers to dip a little lower towards his sweats, and nearly groans when she pauses at the knot of his pants.

Without uttering a word, Mia slowly undoes the knot and waits a second as if she’s expecting him to stop her.

He would never ask her to stop.

And after a moment, she slowly drags her hand over his thighs, pushing her fingers against the rigid muscles, and then finally slides her hand into his sweats. Harry freezes, holding his breath. His screen is showing some violent scene, but his head is filled with Mia and what she’s doing. His attention is barely on the movie when she takes him into her hand.

He’s already half hard. He faintly hears her giggle.

“Mia,” he says.

“What?” she replies innocently. Her hands move over his clothed dick, slowly, softly. Almost tenderly He knows she must be feeling how he’s getting harder by the second. Mia removes her head from under his shirt and peeks up at him out of the duvet. “What?” she repeats, dragging out the word.

“Have I ever told you what an utter pest you are?”

“Not enough clearly. Hasn’t gotten through my thick skull.”

She strokes him again, and Harry tilts his head back, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief. She has such a control on him. He reaches blindly for the remote and pauses it, thankfully at a not so gruesome scene, and lets Mia come out of her hiding spot. She grins at him, reaching up to straddle his hips. Her arms fling themselves around his neck.

The movie is completely forgotten about when Mia kisses him. He holds her tight to his chest, leaning into the kiss to reciprocate. She holds his curls between her fingers tightly, presses herself against him. Her teeth bite down on his lower lip, just the way he likes it, and she whimpers into his mouth when his own hand tangles into her hair to give it a sharp tug.

He needs to be on top of her. So he flips her over, making her laugh in the process, and pins her wrists down to the mattress. Her eyes are lit with an intense fire, her pretty mouth pink, and her hips raising to meet his. He gathers her wrists in one hand to secure them above her head, and uses his other to open her legs, slotting himself in between.

“Just one night,” Harry whispers, kissing down her neck. She gasps and squirms under him. “I just want one night where we get to watch a movie of my choice. Why must you always act up?”

“It’s fun,” she whispers back, raising her head to kiss him. He kisses her passionately, but too briefly. Moving away from her, he works on her shorts, gently pushing them down to her calves until she’s able to kick them off herself. “Getting you all annoyed is so fun.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, because you never get angry. Just all worked up.”

“It’s an everyday thing with you.”

“That’s why you love me,” she gasps as he works on his own sweats, pushing them down and off the bed. He leans down and kisses her neck again, all the way down to her shoulders. Between her collarbones rests a pendant he bought her for her birthday a few months back and he decides he’ll leave that on. But nothing else will stay between them.

He releases her wrists and makes a quick work of removing both his shirt and hers. “Amongst other reasons, but you being the most insufferable person I have to deal with daily is definitely at the top.”

She bites away a smile and wraps her arms around his neck. “I was gonna use my mouth.”

Harry swallows. “Thought you just wanted attention.”

“That too, but I wanted to taste you.”

He lets her go, rolling off her body and sitting against the headboard. “Go ahead.”

She looks very determined suddenly. She reaches for a hair tie on her wrists, but discovers none, so Harry says, “It’s all right, I’ll do it.”

She nods. After the removal of clothes, she’s left in a tanktop and underwear, while Harry’s just in his briefs, which are also lost when she pulls them down and wraps her hand around him again. Harry can’t just not touch her, so before she begins, he pulls her closer and gently thumbs her clit through her underwear. Her eyebrows immediately scrunch with pleasure as she grinds herself against his palm, but he lets her go soon after.

“Rude,” she says, eyes already hazy. It’s so easy to get her riled up too.

He bites back a swear and watches her lean over him. She doesn’t take him into her mouth immediately. As he reaches over to turn his lamp back on, Mia slides down between his legs and kisses his thighs.

She looks up at him through her lashes and he nearly groans, the sight of her making him grow harder. He takes her hair, making it into a ponytail and lets her do her work.

She raises her head. “You can…you know.”

He absolutely knows what she means.

Mia’s hair is very long. It’s always been long ever since he’s known her, and so he wraps the silky brown strands around his knuckles and tugs hard. She whines and lets him pull her slightly up. She opens her mouth and gently takes him in.

Her tanktop’s strap slides down her shoulders, but neither of them pay it any mind. Mia knows how to treat him well, from the careful suction of her mouth, to the hand around him that strokes him, meeting her mouth. Hot need pulses through him as she bobs her head, taking her time with him.

Harry knows that after a while, Mia gets tired of working her mouth over his cock, so he prepares himself to take over once it happens. He pulls on her hair, enjoying the sound she makes at the back of her throat when he does. He lifts his hips up, just barely, and Mia’s nails dig into his hips in response.

“Fuck,” Harry whispers, lovingly tucking her hair that’s escaped his grip away from her face. “You are unbelievable.”

Accompanied by a soft gasp, she pulls off of him, her lips shiny with spit, chest heaving for breath. “I learned from the best.”

With that nod to their previous relationship, she wraps her lips around his tip and focuses there, using her hand to run up and down his shaft. His fist tightens around her hair, his other hand grasping the duvet hard enough to make his knuckles go all white.

Mia’s eyes flutter shut and she runs her tongue along the underside of his tip where she knows it feels best.

Her cold necklace dragging along the inside of his thigh mixed with the heat of her mouth makes him go near insane. He tugs on her hair, mumbles praises, and throws his head back in pleasure.

“Going to treat you so good after this,” he whispers, raising his hips again. She chokes softly, but doesn’t mind. “You deserve the world for how good you make me feel.”

It’s not a new promise, per se. Mia’s been hinting about how Harry’s facial hairy may feel between her legs.

She hums in agreement and doubles her efforts. Harry slowly begins to work with her, carefully pushing down the way she likes whenever she’s sucking him off. He’s been told by Mia that she likes the encouragement from him. He never pushes it too far, but he’s not one to deny her of anything. When he brushes against the back of her throat, she chokes again, pulling up for air.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, running his thumb over her mouth. He smears her left over lip tint from the day.

“It’s okay,” she says, her voice hoarse. “You wanna take over?”

“Sure.” He releases her hair and lets her adjust herself before handing herself over to him. “Actually.” He says, reaching over a pillow. He throws it over the side of the bed and sits up. “That’ll be easier.”

She nods, getting up. She slides off the side of the bed and then kneels between his thighs when he goes to sit on the edge as well. He gathers her hair back into a ponytail. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah.” She looks up at him with wide eyes, smiling. She rests her cheek on his thigh and closes her eyes briefly. Harry presses his thumb to her mouth and lets her suck on his finger for a moment. When she bites down on him, he decides it’s enough, pulling on her hair to get her back up.

In a flash, she’s ready to go again, opening her mouth. She doesn't need to do anything this time, letting Harry guide her head and set the pace. He’s not gentle about it. Neither of them are in the mood for gentleness.

He presses in and out of her quickly, enjoying the scrunch of her nose and the fire in her eyes as she keeps up the best she can, eyes trained solely on him. When she coughs, Harry pulls out, just leaves the tip on her tongue. After she clears her throat, he pushes in again and keeps pushing until her eyes close and she focuses on not choking.

“I fucking love you,” he breathes. He drags one hand down the side of her jaw and then wraps his hand carefully around her neck. Her eyes fly open, tears in them. He releases her neck and wipes a stray tear from her eyelash. “So much. You make my life so much better, Mia.”

She makes a noise that identifies something along the lines of “is this really the time to be saying these things?” and Harry laughs through the tightness in his lower stomach. After a few more bobs, Harry releases her and lets her breathe.

Mia turns her head and coughs once. Then she turns back to him.

“Don’t really feel like coming in your mouth today,” Harry murmurs, sliding his thumb back into her awaiting mouth. She blinks the tears out of her eyes.

“Why not?” she asks around his finger, blinking up at him.

“Have something else in mind.”

Her eyes light up with excitement. Harry’s plans for the bedroom are always amazing, no matter how spontaneous.

“Bend over the bed,” he says, standing up to give her space. “And take off the top. I’m hot just from looking at you in clothes still.”

She hurries to do as she’s told. She’s done taking off her tank top when Harry returns from the closet with one of her vibrators. He goes to the bathroom to wash it off quickly and when he’s back, she’s bent over the bed, looking up at him, intrigued.

“Here,” he says, handing it over to her. She takes it, and then he disappears behind her. She peeks over at him, but he just pushes her underwear down, kissing her spine. He seems to kiss every vertebrae, her hips, and her thighs. But finally, he stands up, carefully spreads her legs, and slowly pushes into her.

Mia’s gasps and Harry whispers, “Fuck.”

He starts at an even pace, spreading his hands over her hips. He doesn’t pull her along with him when he retreats. Instead, he fucks her into the mattress, his speed building gradually.

“Fuck! Harry, I– wait Can… I use this?” Mia asks, her eyes closed, holding the wand tightly in her grasp.

“Yes, go ahead, baby.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. She slides her arm between her legs and turns the wand on, pressing it to her clit. Immediately, she cries out, her free hand holding the sheets hard. Harry drags his hand over the skin of her back, enjoying the way her muscles tense and release with every thrust he gives her. Mia’s mumbling into the sheets, swearing, moaning.

Harry presses his hand against her shoulder blades and makes her drop her head to the mattress. Her whimpers are muffled but nonstop. Her shoulders shake with emotion as Harry holds himself up by resting a hand on the mattress, speeding up his thrusts.

She takes him so well, his body hot from the feel of her walls around him. He could stay here for days. Weeks. Just basking in her warmth, the sound of her pleasure filled cries, her trembling thighs.

His thrusts deviate from relying on speed to intensity. They begin to get harder, and she jolts every time he gives her a rough thrust. When she picks her head up to breathe, she’s sobbing, “I love you. I love you. I love you so much, it feels so good. So good. Feels so fucking good. You always feel so fucking–”

“Fuck,” Harry says with an edge of a laugh. He has to hold her hips to make sure her knees don’t give out from such pleasure. “I love you too, baby.”

“No,” she cries, “like I really really love you.”

He laughs again, digging his fingers into her hips. It’ll leave marks and he’ll be kissing the bruises later, apologizing while Mia cards her own fingers through his hair gently, assuring him it’s all right. “I know,” he says now. “That’s why you’re going to come for me, right?” Mia’s already nodding her head before he’s finished with his sentence. “Going to show me how much you love me, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, yes, yes, please, yes!”

“Go ahead then, my love. Show me.”

Mia gasps and near shrieks at the intensity of her orgasm, and her pulsating walls send her spiraling towards his own orgasm. She holds her vibrator to her clit throughout the entire time, sobbing into the sheets with her eyes tightly shut. His hands hold her hips tight as he buries himself inside of her one last time, groaning through his release. He drops his head against her back and catches his breath, still kissing her skin while his lungs ache.

The sound of the vibrator falling against the floor makes both of them open their eyes and glance at each other. Harry’s the first one to laugh, wrapping his arms around her when her knees finally give out and she nearly falls on the floor. He holds her up and gently helps her back onto the bed when she dramatically lays on her front, sniffling.

“Are you alright?”

Mia nods. “Mhmm.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Harry wipes her face clean of any tears. Her hair is covering half her face and he fixes that so he can see into her pretty grey eyes. Her lip looks red from her biting down on his, her cheeks flushed.

“I love you,” he whispers, poking her cheek.

“I can tell,” she croaks back. He smiles, throwing the duvet over her naked body to make sure she doesn’t get cold. She seems too tired to do anything but lay there.

So Harry is the one who gets up to go to the bathroom and clean himself off. He returns with a washcloth, flips her over, kisses her softly for several long seconds, and then wipes the remainder of the makeup from her face, as well as the inside of her thighs.

Mia watches him do all of it with tired eyes, running her hand gently through his hair. His curls are all messy. “I like your hair like this,” she says when Harry’s folding the washcloth. He tosses it into the hamper and turns his head to kiss her palm.

“I thought you liked my long hair.”

“I did. But this is so nice too.”

He kisses her palm again, leaning down to kiss her mouth next. “You are so nice.” He kisses her slowly, savoring her taste.

She suddenly smiles, finding the strength to push herself up to her elbows. Harry’s busy kissing down her neck to her breasts, his arms tight around her when she says, “No more movie tonight.”

He laughs. “Was this all a plan of yours?”

“Nope, but it worked out great, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I’m really in the mood to finish the movie now.”

Mia frowns. “What? No. No!”

“Come on, baby. It was just getting good.”

Mia’s already putting her head back under the covers. “Nope. No. Absolutely not. No way.”

Harry laughs, resting his body on top of hers. Mia peeks her head back out and wheezes from his weight, but he just kisses her face repeatedly. “Alright. No movie. Just kiss me a little bit, yeah?”

The color returns to her face when she manages to shove him off. “Fine! Just. Turn the light off and come back to me, please.”

And with that command, Harry is once reminded that he’s not the type to ever say no to his love. He does as he's told.

#harry and mia #it's relatively short compared to other harry and mia blurbs but i hope it's good enough #i love dom harry but i also like the funny laughing during sex harry #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles x oc #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing

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lemoncrushh · 4 months ago

Text

Too Far From Texas | Chapter Six

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 5716

Since I didn’t have to be back home until 2:30 when Jasmine got home from school, Lorelei and I slept in and ordered room service for breakfast before heading out on the road. We’d received a group text from our agent Kris, informing us that we’d nearly doubled the sales from the Houston book signing, and she was eager to book us for a longer tour, possibly starting with Dallas, but she’d let us know the details before the end of the day on Friday. I reminded her that if at all possible, I’d rather not start until Wednesday since Tuesday was Halloween and I wanted to be with my kids. She said she understood and would do all she could.

When I arrived home, I quickly unpacked and dropped a load of laundry in the washer to get it out of the way. Then I made a cup of coffee and sat on the sofa with my phone. I hadn’t talked to Harry since the texts the night before, and I was anticipating at least one new one or perhaps a voicemail, but I was a little disappointed when I found nothing.

Deciding it was still early, I sent him a short message saying I hoped he was having a good day. Then I texted Tod to ask how Jasmine’s doctor’s appointment had gone. I was relieved when he said it went fine, just an increase in pill dosage, and that she’d been smiling that morning when she left on the school bus.

The girls were both happy to see me when they got home that afternoon, and we all sat in front of the TV and ate ice cream and watched SpongeBob before they both retreated to their rooms while I prepared dinner.

I wasn’t sure why, but I found myself checking my phone every ten minutes, hoping to see Harry’s name pop up. I laughed at myself and shook my head. I was being ridiculous. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and already I was expecting some sort of reassurance. So, I’d had the nightmare, big deal. He didn’t know anything about it for one thing, and he definitely didn’t know how it had thrown me for a loop. Plus, he was busy. In fact, I didn’t even know exactly where he was - if he was still in Chicago or had left already for another city.

After dinner I was trying to distract myself by watching a sitcom when I heard my phone ping on the table. Lorelei.

Hey look at your boy.

Underneath was a link to an online article titled Boy Band Star Goes Solo. I rolled my eyes at the term but tapped on the link anyway, muting the TV and sitting back to read it. The subtitle was more encouraging: Former One Direction Singer Harry Styles Creates the Album the World Has All Been Waiting For.

Duh! Of course! The album was coming out the next day. I was an idiot; I’d completely forgotten about the release date. I’d already spent nearly two weeks enjoying the album in private. Now the rest of the word was going to hear it.

That was why I hadn’t heard from him. Of course he would have been busy all day.

Rolling my eyes once again, but this time at myself for being such a dimwit, I read the positive article. By the end, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. It was a rave review. I was so incredibly proud.

I was about to reply to Lorelei when I noticed at the bottom of the page was a link to something else about Harry. Clicking on it, I saw a collage of photos, all from various stages of his career. The young photos made me giggle, the more recent ones made me swoon. Goodness, he was a looker.

The bottom of that page, however, took me to something I immediately wished I hadn’t seen.

Harry Styles in Chicago with New Girlfriend? read the caption. Girlfriend?

I inspected the handful of photos. To anyone it would look as though he was out shopping. He was standing by a counter, he was outside on the sidewalk, he was laughing. Nothing out of the ordinary. But it was the final word that made my stomach flip. In all of the photos, he was standing next to a female. I couldn’t see much more than her profile, but she was definitely pretty. And in the final photo, they were embracing.

I wanted to throw up. Not just because I was jealous, but because I felt like I was far too old to be. Jealousy was for young, insecure girls, not grown women.

Deciding I’d seen enough, I tossed my phone on the sofa and walked down the hall to get the girls ready for bed. Emery automatically pressed play on the CD player, Harry’s voice booming through the speakers. My jaw set, I walked over to it and pressed stop.

“Mommy!” whined Emery.

“No music tonight, Em,” I shook my head. “I don’t feel that great. Just go get your shower, okay?”

“Okay,” she frowned, heading for the bathroom.

As Emery showered, I helped Jasmine change into her pajamas, gave her a drink of water with her medicine, and tucked her into bed. When I turned out the light, Emery had returned to her room, her hair still wet as she danced naked to no music. She giggled when she saw me, quickly pulling her pajamas from her drawer. I towel dried her hair the best I could before she brushed it and climbed into her bed.

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” she sang as she held her arms out for me to hug her.

“I know,” I kissed her.

“Are we going to look for a costume again?”

“Yes,” I nodded.

Emery cheered, pumping her fists.

“Did you see Harry?” she asked.

I looked at her, confused. “When?”

“When you were away.”

“No, baby,” I replied. “I was in San Antonio. Harry’s in...Chicago. Or he was.”

“Oh.”

I smiled as I recalled. “I did talk to him on FaceTime though.”

“You did? I wanna FaceTime him! Can I?”

I chuckled. “We’ll see. Get to sleep, monkey.”

Giving her another kiss, I turned out the light and shut the door, returning to the living room. With slight hesitation, I picked up my phone again. Lorelei had sent another text.

Did you read it?

I hastily texted her back.

Yes. It was great.

I thought so too. I feel proud of him, even though I don’t really know him.

I sent her a simple smiling emoji.

Tell him congratulations from me.

Ok.

You ok?

Lorelei knew me too well. She knew that my short replies could only mean I was not in the best of moods.

Yeah, just tired. I think I’m turning in early.

Ok. See you in the morning.

With a sigh, I switched off the TV that was now showing an old episode of Everybody Loves Raymond and turned out the lights as I headed toward my bedroom. I changed into my night clothes, washed my face and brushed my teeth vigilantly before pulling back the comforter.

When I climbed into bed, the cool of the sheets hitting my toes, I breathed in and out slowly. My stomach was in knots. And the thing about it was, I was more upset with myself than anything. I knew better than to think the worst of Harry, but even so, we had yet to put a label on our relationship.

I laughed at myself again. Relationship. Harry and I flirted on the phone. That was it.

Still, curiosity getting the better of me, I reached for my phone and brought up the page again with the photos. He was most definitely in Chicago in them. In fact, he was at Macy’s at the FAO Schwarz toy store. That seemed like an odd place for him to be.

I took a closer look at each photo, as though looking harder would make me feel any less anxious. He seemed as though he was having a good time. But other than the final photo where he and the girl were hugging, they didn’t make any physical contact at all.

I huffed, turning the ringer off and dropping the phone back on the night stand. It could have been anyone. A friend. They could have even just run into each other while he was out and about. It didn’t mean anything.

Rolling over onto my side, I switched off the lamp and buried my hands underneath my pillow. I made myself promise not to jump to conclusions, that I needed to give him the benefit of the doubt. There was no reason to assume anything until I could hear him out.

I just wished he’d call.

The next morning, I made my coffee before I got Jasmine up for school. My fingers itched to reach for my phone, but I made myself wait until later. After Jaz left, I took a shower and woke Emery. As I was getting dressed, I finally decided to check for any messages. My stomach flipped again when I saw I had a voicemail from Harry.

“Hi baby. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you before now. I’m in LA. It’s 10PM here, which makes it midnight where you are. I reckoned you’d be asleep, but I just wanted to leave you a message. You should be receiving a box from the post sometime tomorrow...or today I should say. It’s for Emery, but it’s a surprise so don’t tell her it’s from me until she opens it, okay? I um...I miss you...and um…”

I heard a slight pause then as he sounded like he was trying to gather his thoughts.

“I...I’ll try to text you or something tomorrow, but it’s gonna be a fucking...wicked busy day…” he chuckled. “So if I don’t, please know I’m still thinking about you. Always. Goodnight, love.”

I was a moron. Here I was worried that he had some other girlfriend while he was getting ready for the biggest day of his career. And to top it off, he was sending my daughter a package. Yeah, somebody shoot me and put me out of my misery because first class moron right here.

“It has to be a friend of his,” Lorelei insisted as she scrolled through the photos of Harry that I’d told her about. “Or maybe someone in the industry. His manager or producer or something.”

“I would think if it was someone like that, the press would have known her name,” I remarked. “But you’re right. It’s probably a friend. Maybe someone he happened to run into while he was in Chicago.”

“Exactly, hon,” Lorelei nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And by what you told me he said in his voicemail, I don’t think you have a thing to worry about.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” I threw my hands up and sunk into my chair. “I knew that, I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else.”

Lorelei smiled as she perched on my desk like usual. “So have you read any more reviews?”

“I haven’t had a chance yet,” I replied, “but I noticed he’s already number one on iTunes and he’s trending on Twitter.”

“Of course he is. I think he has the record for the most followers or likes or something.”

I quirked a brow. “How do you know that?”

Lorelei rose from my desk, a smug look on her face. “I know things.”

I laughed as she strode out of my office, flipping her blonde locks.

I took the opportunity then to download the album from iTunes. Although I’d already been listening to the CD in my car, I felt like contributing and showing my support was the least I could do. As Harry’s voice sang through my computer speakers, I began pulling up any review or mention of him I could find, reading all of it. Every single article gave him praise.

“Don’t be expecting the sugary bubblegum pop of 'What Makes You Beautiful'. The One Direction singer has grown up, maturing into a solid musician in his own right.”

“If any pop singer was thought to do well this year, it was Harry Styles. And he’s proven it with his solo album. Giving nods to some of his musical influences, it’s a taste of the old and current, dipped in something completely new and his own.”

“The world didn’t know what hit it when Harry Styles graced the silver screen in his first major motion picture. Now he’s done it again with his first solo album, proving that this is his world and the rest of us are just living in it.”

By the time the last track started, I was giddy. I was in heaven, my eyes glistening with tears. I was so happy that everyone was enjoying the album as much as I was. I was so incredibly proud. I wanted to hug him.

After Lorelei and I returned from lunch, we were on a conference call with Kris, setting up our plans for what she referred to as the official book tour for The Loving Kind.

“So here’s the idea,” stated Kris. “I know I said we’d probably do Dallas, and we will. But I’ve rearranged some things that I think would suit better. Instead of starting with Dallas, we’re actually gonna do it last.”

“Last?” I inquired. I loved how Kris always talked about Lorelei and me in terms of “we”. As though she’d be going too.

“Yes. We’re gonna start in New York.”

“Yay!” cheered Lorelei as my jaw dropped. I hadn’t realized we’d be venturing out that far.

“Why New York?”

“Because it’s The place to launch a bestseller. And besides, your story’s set there. I’ve already booked you for the Barnes and Noble at Union Square for the third, and…”

“The third?” I sounded. “That’s next Friday.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Kris. “You’ll be flying out on Wednesday afternoon. You arrive in New York at 10:55PM.”

I looked at Lorelei and we both shrugged. Alright then.

Kris continued to give us our travel plans, the itinerary and hotel reservations. Then she went on to tell us the list of cities we’d be visiting after New York: Chicago, Nashville and Dallas. When we hung up the call, my head was spinning. This was really happening. Lorelei and I were actually going on a book tour.

“Look!” exclaimed Lorelei a couple hours later as I made my way to my desk after a bathroom break. She was holding up her phone, but I couldn’t quite make what she was showing me until I got closer. It was a tweet from The Late Late Show with James Corden.

“Tonight: @Harry_Styles and @kevinhart4real.” Underneath was a selfie of the two of them with James.

“Oh my God!” I shrieked, a little too loudly.

Lorelei giggled as she danced beside me. “Your boyfriend’s gonna be on the Late Late Show.”

“Stop it,” I chuckled, lightly slapping her arm.

“Look at him, he looks so cute!” she said, holding up her phone again.

I took a closer look at the picture, but mostly taken back by how green his eyes looked. I must have been staring for a few seconds when I heard Lor whisper.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

I glared at her. “I…”

I stood there with my mouth open, but no words came out. Lorelei blinked slowly as she nodded. Then she turned around to head back to her office.

“I...I just talked to him the other day!” I finally called out.

“Uh huh.”

“He just texted me last night!” I argued, catching up with her.

“I know,” Lorelei nodded again, gathering a few papers from her desk.

“How can I miss him already?”

“It’s okay, Stace, you’re allowed to miss him.”

“Lor!”

She turned to look at me, her right eyebrow raised.

“Are you gonna shut the door, or are you just gonna stand there yelling at me?”

Finally realizing I was standing inside her office, I turned around and closed the door behind me. I heard Lorelei chuckle low as her heels clicked across the hard floor. I twirled around swiftly, my hands on my hips.

“What are you laughing at?” I scoffed, the writer in me knowing better than to end a sentence with a preposition.

“You,” she replied. “No, I’m not laughing at you. I just think it’s adorable.”

“It’s not adorable,” I narrowed my eyes. “None of this is adorable.”

“Then what is it?” she asked, stopping at the end of her desk to drop a couple papers in the shredder.

“It’s…” I paused, trying to find the best term. “Unfortunate.”

“How so?” Lor sat in her chair, crossing her arms.

“Because...he’s in LA...and I’m here. And he’s super busy and super famous and...and I don’t know if I’m ever going to see him again. Oh God!” I groaned as I leaned against the door.

“Stace,” said Lorelei softly, “It’s okay to miss him. I told you, I don’t think it’s silly. He likes you, I know he does. He wouldn’t be texting you and FaceTiming you and sending you flowers and buying you coffee if he didn’t. If I’m being honest, I think he’s as smitten as you are, maybe even more.”

I ran a hand through my hair and stood up straight. “Yeah?”

“Mmm hmm,” she nodded. “And if it’s in the cards, when the time is right, you’ll see each other again.”

I smiled, releasing a huge breath. “Thanks, Lor.”

“Anytime,” she beamed. “Now let me finish this before the hour’s up.”

I retreated back to my own office then, starting Harry’s album over again, admittedly missing him like crazy.

“Can I open it now?” Emery asked, bouncing in her chair.

“Yes,” I rolled my eyes with a smirk.

The package had arrived while we were eating dinner, but I’d told Emery to wait until we were finished, and afterwards we would go shopping for her Halloween costume. She giggled with glee as she grabbed the box and tried to rip it open.

“Hang on, Em,” I instructed, walking over to her with the scissors. I slit open the tape, allowing her to open the box the rest of the way.

“Oh! My! God!” she screamed when she saw what was inside. “I don’t believe it! It’s a Lapis Lazuli costume!”

My eyes about popped out of their sockets. “Are you kidding me?”

“Look!” Emery exclaimed, pulling a blue dress from the box and holding it up. “Oh my gosh, there’s wings!”

Dropping the dress, she reached in again and held out a set of clear wings that to me almost looked like dripping water. I’d never seen anything like it.

“Wow!” I breathed, picking the dress off the floor and examining it. “I can’t believe he did this.”

“And a wig!” screeched Emery. I chuckled when she pulled out a bright blue wig from the box. “Can I try it on, Mommy?”

“Of course,” I nodded.

In two seconds, Emery had her clothes off, ready to try on the dress. I helped her with the zipper in the back and attached her wings. I smiled as she twirled around. It fit perfectly. Then I went to the bathroom, returning with a hair tie and pins so I could pin her hair back for the wig. The blue hair made her eyes pop.

“You make a beautiful blue crayon,” I teased.

“It’s Lapis Lazuli!” she enunciated every syllable.

“Oh, okay then,” I smirked. “You look fantastic. Do you like it?”

“Yes!” she bounced on her toes.

“We need to thank Harry.”

“Yeah! Let’s FaceTime him!”

I laughed and shook my head. “He’s very busy today, monkey. He probably can’t talk right now. But how about we make a video and send it to him?”

“Okay!”

I grabbed my phone, preparing it for the video. I instructed Emery where to stand and to be sure to tell him thank you.

“Hi, Harry!” she beamed, shifting her body from side to side. “Thank you for the Lapis Lazuli costume you sent me! I love it sooooo much. And I love you!”

As she said her final words, she jumped up and down, then ran closer to the phone to pucker her lips and blow Harry a kiss. I tried my best not to giggle until I stopped the video. Setting up a text for Harry, I typed a quick message saying that it was from Emery, then added the video and sent it. Then I gently helped her take the costume off and put it back in the box where it would wait until Halloween.

I stayed up to watch The Late Late Show. I was exhausted, and I knew I very easily could have set the DVR, but I wanted to watch it when it aired.

My heart fluttered in my chest when James announced Harry’s name, and the door to “the blue room” opened. He looked amazing. I could barely take in what he was saying to James as the audience cheered. Or maybe it was the cheering coming from my own head. Either way, I was ecstatic to see him, and so was everyone else.

The interview was both comical and insightful. James, having known Harry for quite some time, was very candid with him, but also knew what questions to ask about his album and solo career. It was apparent that he was just as proud of him as I was. Kevin Hart, who sat next to Harry, made me laugh so hard I was crying. Overall, it was a fantastic show.

Then came the performance. Although I knew there wasn’t another musical guest, and James had made it a point to mention that Harry would be performing his new single for the first time on television, in my mind I suppose I was still trying to grasp the reality of it. It wasn’t until they came back from commercial break and James introduced him once again, that I finally knew it was happening for real.

I was on the edge of my seat, my hands rubbing their sweat off on the knees of my pajama pants. I sucked in my lips as he began to sing, my own nerves for him taking over. But he didn’t seem nervous in the least. In fact, by the time the chorus kicked in, I knew he was in his element, and he actually made me feel at ease. Soon I was singing along with him, a huge grin on my face as I bounced gently on the couch.

When the song was over, James returned, giving Harry a hug and a goodbye to his studio and television audiences. As the credits rolled, I watched the people cheer and clap as Reggie and his band played the outro. But the best part of all was the charismatic smile on Harry’s face as he conversed with James. He exuded pure joy and pride. And I felt myself slipping further into whatever it was I had already started to feel for him.

I couldn’t sleep. Although I’d been tired before the show, my brain was buzzing afterwards. I laid in the darkness until I decided the point was moot and I turned on my phone. I scrolled through a few more articles about Harry, including one about that night’s performance, again all positive. The world adored Harry.

I wondered what he was doing. My fingers itched to text him, but I knew it would just go unnoticed, at least for now. As I read one more short snippet, my phone pinged and my face lit up. Harry.

Tell Emery she is very welcome. And she makes a beautiful Lapis Lazuli.

Thanks :) Will do.

Two seconds after I sent my reply, my phone rang and my heart beat out of my chest.

“Hi!” I answered.

“You’re awake,” he said. I could hear noises in the background.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I replied. “Exciting day.”

“Oh yeah? What happened? I mean besides the costume of course.”

I laughed. “You, silly.”

“Me?”

“I’m so proud of you.”

Harry made that little contented sound he’d made during our first major phone conversation. “Thank you, baby.”

“So how does the world’s biggest star end his biggest day?” I asked him.

“I um...I’m at a party. A small party. At Jeff’s.

“Oh.” I knew who Jeff was only by reading. He was Harry’s manager as well as a close friend. “That sounds fun.”

“Yeah. I walked outside to watch Emery’s video. I’m glad she likes it.”

“She’s ecstatic. I can’t thank you enough, Harry. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem, love. I was happy to do it. Although I have to thank my friend Jen for helping me.”

“Jen?”

“She’s Cindy’s cousin. Cindy Crawford?”

I stuttered, trying to get my words out. Who? What?

Harry chuckled. “Cindy’s a good friend of mine. Her cousin Jen was in Chicago while I was there. I ran into her at the toy store when I was hoping maybe I could find the costume.”

“Oh,” I sounded, the pieces connecting in my mind. “Jen.”

“She was there with her little girl,” Harry continued. “I couldn’t find the costume and she suggested I contact a specialty store that she’d bought from before. They didn’t have any in stock, so I had to have it ordered and sent to you.”

I sighed a shaky breath. Once again, first class moron.

“Harry,” I managed to say.

“Yes, love?”

“You’re something special.”

“Hmm. So are you.”

I swallowed hard. There was so much more I wanted to say. Like how he deserved everything that came to him, and then some. Sure, he was talented and worked hard. But he was also a kind soul. Someone who was willing to go out of his way for someone he cared about, or even someone he hardly knew. I’d never met anyone like him in my life. And if I thought about it too much, it might’ve overwhelmed me. Instead, I cleared my throat.

“I’ll let you get back to your party.”

“Okay, baby,” he said softly. “Sleep well.”

I hung up, laying my phone on the night stand. I curled up on my side with a contented smile on my face. I hadn’t told Harry about New York and the book tour. Today wasn’t about that, or me at all. It was his day. And all was right with the world.

The next two days flew by. I did my grocery shopping on Saturday with the girls, although I didn’t buy that much since I would be leaving in a few days. I was still on a high from the previous day, and the fact that I didn’t hear from Harry at all didn’t even bother me. It just meant he was busy, as he should be, and it made my heart swell.

My mother came over for Sunday dinner, a tradition we’d begun after the divorce for the weekends in which I had the kids. I made a roast with potatoes and carrots, she provided a squash casserole and a pecan pie.

As we ate, she made her usual discussion about her until it shifted to me. I informed her that I would be heading to New York in a couple of days for the book signing and that Jasmine and Emery would be staying with Tod. Although she didn’t care for that, she knew it was for the best.

“You know you can work it out with him if you wanna take them for the weekend or something,” I said.

She made a face. “We’ll see.”

We then got on the subject of Halloween, and I cringed when Emery jumped up and told my mom she wanted to show her her costume. As she ran to her room, my mother looked at me.

“So, you found something?”

“Kind of…” I started, interrupted by Emery’s return.

“Look!” she exclaimed, dropping the box next to my mother’s feet. She pulled out the dress and wings. “I’m gonna be Lapis Lazuli!”

“Do huh?” my mom asked, making Emery giggle.

“It’s a character from Steven Universe!”

“That’s pretty,” my mother smiled. “I bet that looks great on you.”

I held in my breath as Emery, bless her heart, nodded and dropped the costume back in the box and ran back to her bedroom with it.

“What time’s your flight Wednesday?” my mom inquired, changing the subject.

Any other time, that would have drove me up the wall. But this time I was grateful. If Emery had spilled the beans about Harry, we would have gone into a round of twenty questions. I just wasn’t ready to divulge any information on Harry Styles, how I knew him, and why he had sent my nine-year-old a Halloween costume.

Later that evening, however, while the two of us were playing cards at my kitchen table, Harry texted me.

Just wanted to say I miss you x

I miss you too, I texted him back with a grin.

What are you doing?

Playing gin rummy with my mother

Oh, hi mum!

I giggled, resting my chin in my hand as I tried to concentrate on my cards in the other.

“Stacey,” my mom scoffed, “that’s rude.”

“What?” I furrowed my brows.

“Texting someone while I’m here.”

I rolled my eyes. Whatever.

Are you winning?

Yes

Good. Can I call you tonight?

You can call me anytime, Harry.

Even with your mum there?

She’s leaving soon. Probably about an hour.

“Stacey, do you want that card?”

“No,” I shook my head and drew a new card from the pile.

She’d love me anyway.

I laughed again.

I have no doubt. Even though she’s giving me the evil eye right now.

Oops. Off to my last interview of the day. Call you later.

Can’t wait.

My mom ended up staying until it was time to put the girls to bed, but fortunately Harry didn’t call before then. She requested that I call her when I arrived in New York, but I reminded her that my flight got in late, an hour later than Texas, and she would be asleep. She settled on my agreeing to text her when I landed, and she would call me the next morning.

I’d already changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and was rummaging through my closet when my ringtone sounded.

“Hey you,” I said, quickly putting him on speaker so I could have my hands free.

“God, it’s good to hear your voice,” he groaned.

I smiled. “You just heard it two days ago.”

“Are you in bed?” he asked, sidestepping my remark, but also adding to the fire.

“No,” I chuckled. “I’m going through my closet, trying to decide what to pack.”

“Pack for what?”

“Well, Mr. Styles, on Wednesday yours truly and her best friend will be embarking on an adventure. We’re officially doing this book tour thing.”

“Ah, baby, I’m so happy for you. Where are you going?” he inquired.

“We’re starting off in New York City. Then we’re doing Chicago, Nashville and Dallas.”

“Stacey…”

“I’m so nervous and excited at the same time,” I expressed.

“You’ll be in New York on Wednesday?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. Well, late that night. Is New York cold the first of November? It probably is, huh? I should pack a coat.”

“Stacey. Baby…”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be in New York this week,” he announced.

My throat suddenly felt dry and the blood rushed to my head. “What?”

“Yeah,” Harry chuckled. “I’m recording Ellen’s show in the morning. It’s gonna be airing on Tuesday, but by then I’ll be in New York. I’ll be there until Saturday.”

“Harry!” I exclaimed.

“It’s fate, baby,” he said.

“Oh my God,” I clutched a fist to my chest.

“I mean...I’m assuming you wanna see me,” he teased.

“Are you kidding?” I squealed, making Harry laugh.

“What time’s your flight?” he asked.

“Late,” I replied. “It doesn’t get in til almost eleven.”

“Oh. Well, we’ll work it out. No worries. I’m not about to miss seeing you.”

“I can’t believe this,” I sighed, dropping my shoes on the closet floor and crawling onto the bed. The packing was suddenly unimportant.

“It’s meant to be, Stacey,” said Harry, his voice low.

“Yeah.”

Lying down on the pillow, I listened to Harry tell me some of his schedule for the week. It was all so thrilling, and I continued to be full of pride for him, though I couldn’t help but wonder how I could fit into all of it. But he reassured me by expressing his excitement of seeing me again, as though I was top priority.

We talked into the night until he finally insisted I get some sleep. My thoughts were too much of a whirlwind to fall asleep though. I was going to see Harry again. In person. In the flesh! Holy shit, was I nervous. I was more nervous than I was that night he came to my apartment. I was more nervous than I was before either of my previous book signings. I tossed and turned for over an hour until I finally got up to make some decaf herbal tea.

As I sat at my kitchen table, my head rested in my hands, it finally occurred to me why I was so nervous. It was because of something Harry had said on the phone.

“I plan on seeing you again,” he’d said. “And I plan on taking you out. And I’m gonna kiss you again.”

My body shook as I let out a breath. He’d also made a comment about his hotel bed being lonely, and he’d wished he was holding me. I knew what that implied. I wasn’t naive. But I suppose at the time I hadn’t expected to see him again, not really. Sure, I’d hoped, but I guess I just didn’t think it was actually going to happen. Now it was going to. I was going to be with him and…

Yeah. I was nervous as hell.

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