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roosterforme · 1 year

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Do You Wanna Touch Me? | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You had been working at the bar for six months. And you'd been crushing on Rooster since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there, until one night you asked him about more than just his drink order.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, age gap, and smut

Length: 5800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for my Top Gun Rocktober playlist! Check out my masterlist for more!

"Oh, my god," you whined softly, drying and polishing the rack of pint glasses in front of you as Rooster Bradshaw came strolling into the bar. "Fuck me," you sighed, barely able to keep your eyes off him as you fumbled one of the glasses.

"Yeah, you'd like that," Lizzy said with a laugh as she cut up some lemons before the Friday evening rush.

You didn't even know you spoke out loud. That's how much of a ridiculous crush you had on that big, sexy man. But he strolled right past you on his way to the pool table, barely even sparing a smile in your direction.

"I really would," you told her, watching the flex of his bicep as he high fived Hangman. It wasn't like your coworkers didn't know you had a thing for Rooster. You'd been working here for six months, and you'd been crushing on him since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there.

He still occasionally called you Babydoll. He never called Lizzy or Jasmine by a pet name. Just you. And you held onto that little glimmer of hope that it meant something. That maybe one day, he'd look at you as more than just one of the bartenders.

"What's wrong with you?" Jas asked, waving a hand in front of your face. But then she looked where you were staring, and she asked no further questions. "Oh. Rooster's here."

"He sure is," you added, forcing yourself to focus on the customer in front of you who looked impatient for a drink. As you finished pouring him some tequila shots, you looked up eagerly, and Rooster met your eyes. It had been a solid week since you'd seen him, and he just always looked so good.

You pushed the shot glasses across the bar and collected payment, trying to stay as cool as you could. Because Rooster was heading your way now in his snug vintage wash jeans and bright tropical shirt.

"Hey, Babydoll," he rasped, and your whole body clenched with need as your eyes fluttered closed. When you met his gaze again, he was leaning on the bar, closing in on your personal space.

"Hey, Rooster," you replied, sounding a lot calmer than you felt. When he smirked and looked down at your shirt, your heart pounded even harder. Your name was embroidered on your Hard Deck top, just above your breast. He knew your name, but he always called you Babydoll anyway. So was he just simply staring at your tits?

He cleared his throat and asked, "Get me a beer? Please?"

"Am I starting a tab?" you asked, reaching for one of the pint glasses you'd just finished cleaning. He responded by humming and sliding his credit card across the bar. He held eye contact with you while you expertly pulled the perfect pint of his preferred beer. The way his lips parted in a soft smile that matched yours, the twitch of his mustache...it all felt like foreplay that had been going on for months.

"Thanks," he muttered when your fingers brushed against his. He winked at you before turning back to the pool table, leaving you with his credit card and a desperate need inside of you.

As you set up his tab, Jasmine ran her hand along your lower back so you wouldn't bump her as she walked behind you. "Why don't you just invite him to join you in the bathroom and fuck him out of your system?" she joked.

"Because," you sighed, "that would only make me pine harder. Getting a small taste of him would be worse than nothing at all."

"Oof," Lizzy replied. "You're a mess over Bradshaw."

"I wonder how old he is?" Jas asked.

You hummed and shrugged, watching him drink his beer across the room while you shook a vodka martini. "Gotta be at least thirty five."

"Ask him," Lizzy said. "Next time he comes over, ask him how old he is."

Your cheeks were warming up. He was bending at the waist, playing pool, and you were taking way too long to serve this martini. "No. What if he thinks I'm being rude? Or worse...what if he catches on that I like him, and he shuts it all down."

"Fine," Jas said, uncapping some ciders. "Next time Rooster comes up, I'll wait on him."

But that really didn't sit well with you. Rooster always came to you for his drinks, anytime he could. You liked that about him. You liked his attention. Jas wouldn't pour his pints quite as well as you could. You knew so well how much foam to let spill and how close to the top of the glass you could get. You loved pulling those pints of lager for him. And you loved pouring him bourbon when he asked for that instead. You knew which brand and that he liked it neat. You didn't have to ask. He didn't have to tell you.

No, you should always be the one to wait on him. And when he finished his pint and strolled back up to the bar after Phoenix beat him at pool, you stepped in front of Jasmine. "I got it," you said confidently, and Jas walked away chuckling. This time Rooster eased himself down onto an empty stool between two women who looked at him like they'd just won the lottery. But his eyes were on you.

"Lager or bourbon?" you asked, and you were rewarded with those perfect, white teeth and his deep laughter.

"You got everyone's regular drinks memorized?" he asked as you reached for his empty glass. But he didn't let you take it. He kept one hand on the glass for a few beats while your fingers met his.

He was making you feel bold tonight. He was even more gorgeous up close like this, with a few gray hairs at his temples and some laugh lines around his eyes. His eyebrows shot up, and his smile faltered when you said, "No, Rooster. Not everybody's regular drinks. Only the hottest guys. Lager or bourbon?"

He grunted and swallowed hard. "Dealer's choice." Then he finally let you take the empty glass, and it was a good thing, too, because you needed to turn away from him. You took a few extra seconds to reach for the bottle of Wild Turkey. Your nipples were hard, your skin felt like it was on fire, and you were turned on just talking to him.

When you turned back to face him, his gaze was neutral again. You uncapped the bourbon and poured it for him, neat.

"Thanks," he murmured, moving like he was standing to leave.

And then your mouth worked before your brain, and you said, "Anytime, Sexy."

You watched him pause halfway out of his seat, his eyes dipping down to watch you nervously lick your lips. If he left for the pool table, you really were going to have to let Jasmine wait on him next time. Embarrassment flooded your veins, leaving you uncomfortable with a sheen of cold sweat on your neck. But he eased himself back down onto the stool and kept his eyes on you. "Alright. Babydoll."

You laughed softly, pulling out some glasses for the woman who wanted two cosmos. Rooster sipped his bourbon and kept his focus on your face and your body. He grunted as you took a shaker in each hand, and as you poured them out at the same time, he asked, "What's your favorite drink?"

He was hyper focused on you now, leaning in just the slightest bit further as you served both pink drinks. "To have or to make?" you asked, taking more orders.

"Both. I want you to tell me both."

You smiled at him, and he matched it right away. "Nothing is more fun to make than an expertly crafted Bloody Mary, but those are best as breakfast cocktails."

He nodded, accepting your answer, and then he asked, "And what do you order when you go out?"

You shrugged. "I don't often get to have someone make my drinks for me, but when I do, I usually order a Manhattan."

"A Manhattan?" he asked, balking at your answer. "How fuckin' old are you, Babydoll? People in their seventies drink those things!"

"I'm twenty three," you told him, laughing so hard you were doubled over. He looked delighted when you were finally able to stand up straight again. Your smile was still bright as you leaned on the bar until you were only two feet from his face and softly asked, "How old are you?"

The song on the jukebox changed as Rooster rubbed his mustache and said, "I'm a lot older than you are." His little self deprecating laugh just made you want to get closer to him. He looked amused by you and also resigned to the fact that he thought his age was something you wouldn't like about him.

"How old?" you asked again, biting your lip.

His brown eyes found your mouth, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you. Oh god, you wanted him to, so badly. "I'm thirty eight."

You hummed softly as Phoenix came to stand next to him, and you started to get her favorite kind of beer ready.

"You coming back to the pool table?" she asked Rooster, but he just grunted something about needing to finish his bourbon first. When you handed Phoenix her drink, Rooster told you to put it on his tab, and he looked relieved when she walked away.

"Thirty eight," you said, watching him down the remainder of the drink in his glass. "That's why you're so good at flirting? You've had time to practice?"

He coughed a little bit as he set his empty glass down on the bar top. "Babydoll, I'm fifteen years older than you."

"So?" you asked, pulling another perfect pint for him. "You don't want to flirt with me?"

"Now wait, that's not what I'm saying at all. Just surprised you don't want to flirt with someone your own age."

"I don't like boys my age," you told him fearlessly. "I like men."

"Oh, hell," he groaned, taking a long sip of his fresh beer. "Just look at you. You're gonna get yourself in trouble if you don't find a nice guy."

He looked flustered now. You were making Lieutenant Bradshaw flustered. His cheeks were pink, and he kept sipping his beer, avoiding your gaze. He looked adorable and boyish, and you didn't know quite what to do about this. Or about the fact that talking to him was making you wet.

"Hmmm," you hummed, and his eyes met yours immediately. "Are you a nice guy?"

"Fuck," he groaned, adjusting himself in his seat. "Sometimes."

"You're always pretty sweet to me," you whispered. "What's it like when you're not a nice guy, Rooster?"

You wanted to touch him for more than a few fleeting seconds. After six months, you thought you were going to. His long, thick fingers were just resting there in front of you. But then Fanboy came to the bar and asked you to close out his tab. And then you had to help Lizzy pour a massive round of shots. And then when Rooster asked you to close out his tab as well, you did it with a pout on your lips.

As you slid his credit card, the slip he needed to sign, and a pen across the bar, he smiled at you. "Aww, come on. Don't give me that look. You know how it is."

"I don't, actually," you replied, watching him sign the credit card receipt for you. "How is it?"

He looked up and studied your face. "You're too perfect to mess with, Babydoll. Too young. Too pretty to touch."

You chewed on your lip and squeezed your thighs together. You had to know. Your voice was soft and unsure as you asked him, "Do you wanna touch me?"

He didn't meet your eyes again as he scribbled on the receipt and then left it and the pen for you to collect. He stood up from his stool, gave a quick salute to his friends and then headed for the door.

You moaned helplessly. You blew it. He thought you were just a kid, and you never stood a chance. And now he'd probably never even look at you again.

But when you picked up the receipt, you read one word written there under his name. YES.

-----------------------------

When you strolled into the bar the next evening, you got right to work. You had no idea if Rooster would show up, and you weren't sure if you even wanted to see him or not. You'd torn off the bottom of his credit card slip and taken it home with you. That little scrap of paper on which he'd admitted he wanted to touch you was hanging on your bedroom mirror. But it was the fact that he was probably never going to touch you, even though he was more than welcome to, that was making you frustrated.

"What's wrong with you?" Lizzy asked as she arrived a minute later. "You look hot."

You glanced down at your Hard Deck top, denim skirt and beat up sneakers. "I look the same as I always do," you told her, continuing to dump buckets of ice into the cooler behind the bar.

"Maybe it's your makeup," she replied. "I think you're hoping Rooster comes in tonight."

You rolled your eyes. "I always hope he's going to be here. He's pretty. I like looking at him."

"I'm not going to dispute that," Lizzy said as she cut up the lemons again tonight. "But I think you actually like him. Not just the way he looks."

You didn't respond, because it didn't matter. You'd keep the flirtation to a minimum the next time you saw him. The last thing you wanted to do was make him think you were desperate. He wanted to touch you? He could go right ahead. But you weren't about to beg him to.

As the bar got crowded, Jasmine showed up as well. The three of you got into a nice rhythm. A lot of the aviators were back again tonight, and you were serving them drink after drink. And then it was like you knew he was there before you saw him. After you handed a couple their drinks, your eyes automatically shifted toward the doorway, finding it filled with Rooster's big body. And he was already looking at you.

"You want me to wait on him?" Lizzy asked you softly as Rooster approached the bar.

But you just shook your head and reached for two different glasses, holding them up as he took a seat in front of you. When he pointed to the pint glass, he said, "Lager. Please."

"Sure," you replied, setting the smaller glass aside and pulling a perfect pint of beer for him. "Start a tab?"

"Nah, I'm not staying long tonight," he told you as you placed the beer in front of him without meeting his gaze. "Just wanted to see you and get one drink."

"Mmkay," you said. But when you pulled your hand away, he reached for it.

Stunned, you let him take your hand in his large one, and then he asked, "Does this mean you're done flirting with the old man now? You got it all out of your system yesterday?" His eyes were guarded, cautious, and he held onto your hand, expecting an answer.

You shook your head slowly, running your fingertips along his rough calluses. "I was just getting started."

A crooked little smile danced across his lips. "I am too old for you, Babydoll. And it's a shame."

Your heart jumped in your chest, hand still tangled up with his on the bar top. You could hear Lizzy and Jasmine working extra hard to take all the orders, trying to give you a moment here. So you smiled back. "You think you're old. So what? You expect me to call you Daddy?"

"Shit," he grunted, squirming a bit in his seat but keeping your hand in his.

When he didn't respond right away, you leaned a little closer, one eyebrow raised. "I asked you a question."

His eyes were wide, and that little grin was back. "I could be a... Daddy. Maybe for the right girl."

You pulled your hand free of his and planted both palms on the bar top and leaned closer to him. "And just how is a girl supposed to know if she's the right one?"

But his cheeks were tinged with pink once again, and he looked flustered. It was flattering, such an ego boost. You were the one who made him like this. But he wasn't responding now, and you needed to help Jas pour some chardonnay for the impatient ladies at the end of the bar. You sighed and said, "Well, I work until eleven. So just think on it."

But he wouldn't let you leave. Rooster reached for your hand again, but this time he was the one leaning closer. "The right girl would be one that I can't seem to stay away from. You said you work until eleven?"

"Yes," you replied softly, his large hand completely covering yours on the bar top.

"Right. Then ask me again if I want to start a tab."

You pressed your lips together, trying not to giggle. "Would you like to start a tab, Rooster?"

"You're damn right I would, Babydoll. I can't get enough of you. Think I'll just hang here until eleven. If that's okay with you."

This time you did giggle. "Yeah. That's okay with me." As he pulled his wallet out and handed you his credit card, you asked, "Bourbon or lager?"

"Make it a Manhattan."

"I've been told these drinks are for people in their seventies," you said with a straight face as you reached for the vermouth, secretly pleased he wanted your favorite. "You're only thirty eight."

"Listen," he said, watching you fix his drink. "You said you don't like boys your own age. And maybe I'm a little older than you, but all the parts are still in working order."

You felt giddy. When you set the glass down in front of him, you couldn't help but ask, "Does that mean you'll let me take you for a test drive?"

You had to work to keep an innocent expression on your face as Bradley's blush deepened. He took a sip of his Manhattan, licked his lips and said, "I don't do test drives anymore."

"Oh," you said with a little pout. "You don't?"

"No," he replied a bit cautiously, taking another sip of his cocktail. "I'm getting too old for that. I like at least a little bit of commitment from the driver. Don't wanna feel like I'll get dinged up."

You shivered at his words, mesmerized by his voice and his demeanor as he looked down into his glass. Could you do more than a test drive? Of course you'd thought about it. You were crushing so hard, you'd imagined what it would be like if he was your boyfriend. But you'd barely even let yourself hope for a one night stand. Even that much seemed too good to be true.

"Oh," you said again in a softer tone. When he glanced up, his dark eyes were no longer guarded, and he was looking at you warily. Without giving it much thought, you pushed up onto the bar and leaned until he met you halfway in a kiss. It was just the softest brush of your lips against his. But the sound he made and the prickle of his mustache on your skin left you wide eyed and out of breath as you eased yourself back down. "No. You're too handsome to get all dinged up. I'm a great driver."

"Yeah," he said with a little laugh. "I can already tell. And that's what I was afraid of last night. There's just something about you, isn't there?"

"You have a thing for me?" you asked him, gripping the edge of the bar top. "Because I definitely have a thing for you." You had stopped breathing now, and your heart was pounding in your ears.

With a little grin, he said, "Yeah, I do, Babydoll."

"Well, what are we going to do about it, Daddy?" you asked with another giggle as Jasmine thrust a bottle of prosecco into your hands.

"We're going to go out my Bronco the minute your shift is over. We'll figure it out there."

You nearly dropped the bottle when you met his eyes. "A quickie?" you asked softly, but you were sure he heard you.

"No," he groaned, running his big palm along his mouth and shaking his head at you. Then he finished the rest of his Manhattan in one gulp and pushed the glass your way. "Nothing about this is gonna be quick. I'd like to take my time, especially with someone as perfect as you."

You sounded like a feral animal, thighs clenched together and gripping the bottle of prosecco with both hands.

"Shit," Rooster grunted. "You're making it hard to just sit here, Babydoll."

"Hard?" you asked with a grin.

"You'll find out."

After another embarrassing noise, you had to excuse yourself to the other end of the bar for a few minutes. Jesus, you needed to keep your job, after all. But his eyes followed you everywhere. Any time you looked his way, he was transfixed on you. When you pulled a pint of lager and set it down for him, he whispered, "Thanks, Babydoll," sending shivers along your skin again.

"Anything else you want, Rooster?" you asked him sweetly.

His gaze dipped down to your chest before returning to your face. "Nothing I'm allowed to have inside the bar."

"At least not when we're open to the public, sir," you replied, giving him a little salute that had him reaching for you across the bar. But you managed to skirt away from his grasp with another laugh.

"You coming back over here?" he asked between sips of his beer. "I didn't get a chance to ask you if you'll make me a Bloody Mary for breakfast tomorrow morning."

"Breakfast?"

"Yeah. Breakfast," he confirmed with a smile. "At my place?"

You pressed your lips together to keep from screaming. "So since this isn't a test drive, what are my options, exactly? Am I looking at a lease? A financing package?"

"I'm sure you'll know what you want to do when the time comes. And I'm going to need you to stop saying package right now."

"Just go," Jasmine told you suddenly. "It's after ten, and you're useless. You and he have had hours of foreplay already. Go."

"Are you sure?" you asked, already reaching for your bag and Rooster's credit card.

"Yes," Lizzy confirmed. Then she looked at Rooster who was already standing up and told him, "Pay your tab next week. And get her out of here."

"My pleasure," he rasped, and you practically ran for the opening in the bar, ducking underneath the counter. And when you stood up again, he was right there. He was so tall and broad, and with a coy smile, you slipped his credit card into the pocket of his jeans. When your fingers trailed closer to his zipper, he grabbed your wrist gently.

"Just checking for myself to make sure all the parts are working," you mused as he raised your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles gently. In the middle of the crowded bar. Then he wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss.

He kept it pretty clean as he promised, "Wait until we get outside."

"Now," you demanded, pulling him along behind you by his shirt collar. As soon as the cool, night air met your hot skin, he had your bare thighs in his hands, and your back was pressed against the side of the building. "Oh my god," you gasped. Your body was pinned between the siding and Rooster, and the rough denim of his jeans was rubbing you deliciously through your underwear.

"I told you I'm not going to rush," he whispered, pressing into you as you held onto his shoulders. He teased you with that delicious mustache and his lips on your neck before he kissed your ear and said, "Now, I'm gonna need verbal confirmation, Babydoll."

"Yes!" you nearly shouted. "Everything!"

He chuckled next to your ear and asked, "You wanna fuck in my Bronco?"

"Yes," you moaned so loudly, you were sure Jasmine and Lizzy could hear you.

"I don't have any condoms with me," he said, looking you in the eye. "Do we need them?"

"No, I'm clean, and I take the pill," you said, leaning in to kiss his lips. He tasted you, running the tip of his tongue along yours before pulling his lips away.

You whined for him, but he was undeterred. "I need you to tell me that you'll come home with me and make me that Bloody Mary in the morning while I make you breakfast."

He already wanted you to sleep over with him. He wanted to make you breakfast. He didn't want to have a one night stand. He was waiting for an answer. "You'll have to let me know if you want it traditional or extra spicy."

"Fuck," he grunted before his lips came crashing against yours. His big hands held your thighs wide as he rolled his hips gently against you.

"Rooster," you moaned against his lips as he let you gently slide down his body until your feet hit the ground.

"Please call me Bradley," he whispered as he wrapped his hand around your waist and quickly guided you across the dark parking lot.

When you saw the Bronco, you ran the last little bit hand in hand. His laughter mixed with yours as he unlocked the door. "Come on, Bradley," you sang, looking up at him over your shoulder before climbing up onto the driver's seat on your hands and knees. "Do you wanna touch me?"

"Babydoll," he moaned, keeping you still as he guided your skirt up over your butt and around your waist. You cried out as he kissed the backs of your thighs. He slipped his fingers inside the thin strips of lace fabric that made up your thong, and you couldn't ever remember being this turned on before.

"Bradley!" you gasped loudly when his lips and tongue met the globe of your rear end. He slid the lace to one side and kissed your slit from behind until you were panting. You might cum. You might actually have an orgasm on your hands and knees with your ass in his face. Boys your own age couldn't get you like this no matter what they did.

He gently swatted at you before palming your ass and saying, "Get in the backseat."

Oh yes. He was about to show you what else his age and experience had to offer, and you were already shaking with need. "Yes, sir," you whispered, and you heard him mutter a string of obscenities as you scrambled onto the backseat. As he slid the driver's seat forward and climbed in the back, you carefully pulled your underwear down your thighs. He helped you and then pressed the lace to his nose before pulling you onto his lap.

"I've thought about this so many times when I touched myself," you blurted out as he teased your clit with his thumb. "Bronco sex," you whined, head tipped back, enjoying the perfect pressure he applied to your body. "Bronco sex with Bradley Bradshaw."

"Forgive me, Babydoll," he whispered, voice harsh. "But last night was the first time I jerked off thinking about you. Too afraid to go there before that, thinking there was no way in hell you'd want me."

"I want you," you swore, meeting his eyes in the near darkness. If anyone else was out in the parking lot, you couldn't see them. And you didn't care if they could see you, because he was slipping one thick finger inside you. "Wanted you for so long. Months and months."

"Jesus, you're tight," he groaned, sliding your snug top up to your chest as you rode his hand. "And you skipped a bra tonight like a good girl."

"Bradley," you gasped as he cupped your bare breast in his big hand. He lazily swirled his thumb around your nipple before bending to take you into his mouth. "Oh my god!"

Your orgasm was already building. You had only been in the backseat with him for a few minutes, and he was still fully clothed. But now you were riding two fingers, and his thumb was delicious against your clit. As he licked and sucked on your breast, you started to clench.

"Damn," he muttered against your body. "Already?"

You just nodded before guiding his lips up to yours, and you came as you moaned loudly against his mouth. "Bradley." You raked your fingers up into his hair and kissed him. He was hard through his jeans, and when he withdrew his fingers, you felt them trail up your body.

"You're so pretty," he whispered, pulling your top over your head. "You'll look even better in my bed."

You wanted him to fuck you here first, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't already thought about his place and what he might make you for breakfast. And as you sat straddled his hips in nothing but your skirt up around your waist and your sneakers on your feet, you felt adored by him. He was kissing a trail down between your breasts and rubbing his thumbs along your thighs.

"Bradley," you whined, rubbing your pussy against his jeans, already feeling a little wrung out. "Please."

The street light at the corner reflected in his eyes, letting you know he was looking at your face as he raised his hips and unzipped his jeans. And a few seconds later, they were down around his knees along with his underwear. Your lips met his as you felt the velvety soft tip of his cock resting against your core. As you kissed him and tugged on his hair, he throbbed for you. And suddenly you weren't in such a hurry either.

"Let me make you feel good," he whispered, and as you slid down around him, Bradley guided you with his hands on your hips. "You're so wet, my god."

"You always make me wet, even when you just talk to me at the bar," you admitted softly, your voice shaking as he kept pushing deeper inside you. "Oh. You're huge."

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, pausing where he was. But you just shook your head and rolled your hips slowly until he was completely inside you. He kissed you softly as you gasped and got used to him. "I don't wanna hurt this sweet pussy," he whispered next to your ear. "Perfect."

And then he brushed his knuckles along your clit and leaned his head back, watching as you rode him. "Take it off," you gasped, and he let you push his shirt down his arms and pull his tank over his head. You explored his broad chest with your hands and his shoulders with your lips. He was warm and rough and oh so sweet. His chest hairs brushed against your nipples as he guided your hips with his hands.

"Bradley?"

"Hmm?"

You wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed his lips. "Fuck. So good." He felt delicious, his big hands everywhere, sliding up to span your back and keep you close. He fucked you in long, fluid movements that just got faster and faster. His pubes were coarse against your clit. His little grunts and words of praise kept you going as you started squeezing around his cock.

"Don't stop, Babydoll," he coaxed as you got closer. When his lips met your sweat slick chest again, and he pulled your nipple between his teeth, you came for him.

"Oh!"

As your legs shook and your fingers went loose in his hair, Bradley fucked up into you until you were screaming his name.

"Good girl," he grunted, and suddenly you were on your back along the seat with your legs spread wide. He fucked you with long, hard strokes that made your tits bounce and prolonged your orgasm. His lips were everywhere, and you were surrounded by his voice in the dark, holding onto his biceps as he came inside you.

You scrambled to get your mouth on his as you both caught your breath together, and as your heartbeat started to return to normal, you pressed a dozen soft kisses to his lips, one after the next. "Will you take me home?"

His hands stilled on your thigh and your neck. "Yeah," he said with a tone of sadness. "I can drop you off at home."

When he started pulling away without so much as another kiss, you reached for him, keeping him firmly inside you. "No, no. Take me home with you, Bradley."

"My place?" His voice was still soft, but it sounded hopeful now.

"Of course," you reassured him, and his kisses returned. "I'll spend the whole morning tomorrow making you Bloody Marys with little heart shaped garnishes."

He smiled against your lips before he said, "I'd like that, Babydoll."

---------------------------

The Hard Deck was pretty busy the following evening, and you were so physically exhausted from your night with Bradley, you could barely keep up. The Sunday crowd was keeping you on your toes, and Jasmine wouldn't stop asking you how your night ended.

"Did you go home with him? You did. I can tell," she said as you just shrugged at all of her questions. "Are you going to see him again? Come on! Tell me!"

When you saw movement on the other side of the bar top, Jasmine's eyes went wide. "Hey, babydoll." The deep rumble of his voice was so distinct, you didn't need to look at him to know it was Bradley. He had whispered dirty, sweet things in your ears all night and all morning. You knew the sound of his voice by heart now.

When your eyes met his, you reached for a pint glass and filled it with his favorite beer. "Hey, Bradley. Wanna start a tab?" you asked with a soft smile.

You giggled as he reached for your hand and tugged you closer. Then he leaned across the bar and kissed you as his nose brushed against yours. "For you? Always. And don't close the tab until your shift ends."

---------------------------

No more test drives. I'm sure she's already considering her options to make him hers permanently. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32. Also, the pretty banner was made by Mak!

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velvetydream · 8 months

Text

꒰ :🥀 [ Second chances ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Lucifer didn't think he would ever have the chance at love again, but then he met you and got to know you after the destruction of the Hotel.

Pairing : Lucifer x Reader

Word count : 2239 Words

Genre : Fluff, Romance

Warnings ➵ Spoilers for EP 8!!

a/n : I love him sm, he deserves the world, a big hug and a smooch to the cheek

Also legit the first part of this barely has any interactions but eh- idk where I was going with this-

Might make this into a series, idk yet.. Also definitely one of my more boring and bad works sadly..

┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡

Coming back to the hotel from an outing in the city, you were met with chaos. Everyone was running around, Razzle and Dazzle were hanging up a banner reading > Welcome Daddy < what was happening? Ducking your head as Sir Pentious darts past you, before making your way over to Charlie.

"Sweetheart, what's happening?" Laying your hand softly on Charlie's shoulder, her hair flies around as she comes to face you. You were one of the first people to join the hotel back then, having grown close to Charlie over that time, she viewed you as a parent figure, while you viewed her like a daughter. "My dad is coming and everything has to be perfect! He has to be assured he can trust me and help me!" That explained a lot, especially why Charlie was so stressed. Pulling her into a hug now, your hand softly gliding over her head, as you mutter how she should not stress too much and that she is doing amazing. Noticing how her body was relaxing against your own, you were glad to have calmed her down at least a little bit.

After helping the others a bit more, it was finally time. Charlie swept her hands on her jacket, before opening the door. A bright choice sounding, as Lucifer pulls his daughter into a tight hug. Before saying hello to Keekee, Razzle and Dazzle. He was.. different than everyone probably though.

Watching Alastor talk to Lucifer now, they for sure could not stand the other one, this would be fun. Charlie now introduced Vaggie to him, which made you smile a little bit when Lucifer took her into his arms. The rest was quickly introduced before Charlie pulled you beside her. "And this is Y/N, Dad! They really helped me a lot already, of course like anyone else here too!" Fumbling around with her words a bit, you softly lay your hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We know what you mean dear, Charlie is an amazing girl, we are really proud of her." Your eyes were on Charlie, before greeting Lucifer correctly.

It was quiet for a second before a crash could be heard. Oh shit.. For a few minutes, the banter between Alastor and Lucifer continued on, making you sigh as you sat down beside Angel. This way going great huh? Vaggie was also at the end of her nerves right now. As they were seemingly coming to an end finally, the doors slammed open and some short blonde lady walked in as if she owned this place. Being introduced to her soon, you decide to tag along with Charlie and the others to show her dad around.

You were simply following the others, listening to Charlie nervously ramble on, only glancing over your shoulder for a second as Husker stopped Alastor, but you decided to not give it another thought.

Arriving at the balcony, you and Vaggie stand back, as Charlie and her dad talk. But too soon they were interrupted as some debris was thrown into the hotel and shook the whole building. Rushing through the portal, you guys are back in the foyer of the hotel, looking around for an answer. Mimzy the woman from before finally explained what was happening, you rolled your eyes, how amazing. Too busy with making sure you saw everyone safe, you weren't seeing the debris falling your way. Before you knew it you were swept off your feet, as Lucifer saved you from being smashed by the debris, setting you down on your feet again softly, as his wings disappear again.

"You see now Charlie what I mean? Those sinners destroy everything! They fall into your home and destroy it, they aren't grateful for anything!" Talking to Charlie now, as Alastor finally decided to step in and fight off those damned loan sharks, before telling the woman to disappear. Watching Charlie and her dad now, as you were standing beside Alastor, a frown visible on your face. She worked so hard for this, why couldn't he believe in her? Though quickly everything explained itself and both of them seemed to finally makeup, a tear slipping from your eye from how beautiful this moment was.

"All right.. I'll get you that meeting but.. once in heaven you're alone I.. can't come with you." Lucifer told Charlie, before disappearing in a red cloud.

That was now a month ago. Right now everyone was getting ready for that damned extermination. Sadly Charlie's conversation with Heaven didn't do anything, on top of that the tension in the whole group grew, with Vaggie being an old exterminator. But that was all over now, as the whole group decided to have one last drink the night before the big battle. You were talking with Husker, as Angel was with Cherri, Alastor and Niffty looking upon everyone and Charlie with Vaggie nowhere to be seen. And of course, Sir Pentious trying to strike up a conversation with Cherri. You hoped everything would go well tomorrow and that no one would die.

The morning arrived, and everyone was gathered outside to protect the hotel, to protect Charlie's dream. Everyone was ready for this.

Almost everything seemed to go down in a wink, the hotel was in shambles, Alastor was missing - assumingly dead, Sir Pentious gave his life for the group and Adam was killed. Now the rebuild of the hotel was in full swing, everyone was helping, even Cherri who wasn't even a resident of the hotel yet. Lucifer also stayed to help his daughter and somehow convinced her to let him have a room too and stay with the group.

"Have you seen Charlie? Some new shipments came." The blonde was approaching you now, his coat and hat off, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Raising to your feet from where you were kneeling to work on some nails, you swept some sweat from your forehead before turning to Lucifer. "She and Vaggie went to town real quick for some errands, but she told me where to put them, let me show you." Laying the hammer down on one of the many workbenches, you go accept the shipments, before showing Lucifer the way.

You and him had quite a few conversations over the last few days, with you being a parent figure for Charlie and him being her father, you two talked a lot about how well she is doing. What you didn't notice were the fleeting glances the king of hell threw your way every now and then.

"She told me to just put it here." Opening the door to a little cabinet now on the first floor of the hotel in the foyer. This was the first thing finished, right now the works were on the upper rooms. Putting down the box you were carrying on the shelf, Lucifer followed where you put the other box, before thanking you for helping him out. "Soo.. The hotel is coming together rather nicely huh?" Looking over to you with his red eyes now, as you close the door, a bit confused he was striking up a conversation right now. "Yeah, everyone is doing so amazingly, I'm glad we got so much help.. If we don't look at Niffty punching holes in the new floor trying to catch roaches.." At least some things were apparently not changing and stayed the same.

"Say.. when the hotel is finished would you perhaps.. you know.. maybe.. be interested in a date?" Stopping in your tracks now, you blink a few times. Did you just hear correctly? The Lucifer Morningstar, the king of hell just asked you for a date? Turning your head around now, your cheeks slowly become a crimson-red color. Looking at him, he didn't really look different, his cheeks red, as he was sheepishly playing with his sleeves. "You want to go on a date with me?" Raising his eyes to meet yours, he simply nods. "To be honest with you, you caught my eye the day I first came here but.. then all this happened and we never really got to talk and I was worried you would think I'm weird for asking, so I thought I should maybe wait a bit-" He was rambling on, probably from how nervous he was to ask you out. After his ex-wife left him, he didn't really date anyone after that, so it's been a while since he has ever asked someone for a date. "I would love to. Thank you for asking me." Laying your hand softly over his, giving it a soft reassuring squeeze to tell him not to worry too much. Sadly the moment was cut short, when Angel called for you, having someone questions about about paint.

Lucifer's eyes followed you now, the smile on his face not being able to be hidden now, fist-pumping the air happily over how he finally asked you. Charlie came back that moment and looked a little bit more than worried at her father, but overall no new behavior from him.

The hotel was soon finished, Alastor also came back, making at least Charlie relieved that he was still alive, Husker and Lucifer didn't seem so pleased with that fact, but they would get over it.

So now, it was time for your date with Lucifer. Charlie was thrilled when she heard you would be going on a date with her dad, at first you were rather worried about how she would react, but she was happy that her dad was trying to find love again. Making sure your hair was sitting right and your clothes were wrinkle-free, when a knock sounded at your door. Taking one last breath, you open it and are met with Lucifer. His hat was gone and he was wearing a white suit, similar to what he normally wore but more suitable for a fancy dinner - as fancy as a dinner in hell can be.

"You look amazing! Oh my! Look at you!" Lucifer was throwing compliments at you left and right, before he caught himself again, straightened his jacket, and then extended his arm for you to take. "Thank you, you also look amazing tonight Lucifer." Taking his arm now, he guides you two to the elevators which take you down to the foyer. Charlie was trying subtly to look at you two, but failing miserably. "Charlie is staring at us and almost crying.." Whispering to Lucifer now, he just nods, making sure to throw Vaggie a begging look to take care of Charlie, as you two leave the hotel. He decided to take you to the more finer side of Pentagram City, where rather expensive shops and restaurants were and which were less bloody.

"Here we are! It's the finest one I know around here!" Leading you inside, it was a big place. The restaurant had a fountain in the middle and had many plants all around the wide place. Marble floors, stone walls were adorned with gold elements and gold was seen all throughout the place. This was definitely an expensive place by the looks of it. A waiter leading you to a table no, you were sure was the best one in the whole restaurant. It was by a wide window, having a good look down the city, in the distance you could even see the hotel slightly, especially the big sign reading Hazbin Hotel.

"This place is beautiful but.. it looks rather expensive, are you sure this is okay?" Of course you knew who Lucifer was and he could basically afford anything in this whole city and do anything he wanted, you just wanted to make sure. Assuring you now that you shall not worry about something like that. Ordering food and enjoying the meal together, it was a nice evening. Everything goes by smoothly and you and Lucifer finally get around to know each other better. Sadly the dinner was over too quickly, Lucifer leading you back to the hotel now, while telling you a story from Charlie's childhood, which made you giggle. He truly was a gentleman and had a pure heart, he cared so much about Charlie.

"So.. would you.. repeat this another time? I mean only if you also enjoyed it! I of course did enjoy it! I mean you're amazing and-" Standing in front of your room now, you silence him with a soft kiss to the cheek, before looking at him softly fixing his suit. "I would love to Luci, I enjoyed this evening with you alot." Raising your eyes again to meet his, you can't help but let out a giggle at his expression. Eyes blown wide, mouth open and cheeks blazing red. "Great! Yeah! Woah! Me too! Especially the food, poah that was amazing! And the place was really worth it! Was it to your liking? I really hope so because-" Pulling him down by his suit now, your lips softly meeting his, eyes closed, before seperating again as you look at him. "Sorry.. You were rambling so nervously.. Please don't worry, I mean it when I say loved tonight.. Now sleep well Luci." Planting another kiss to his cheek, you enter your room, closing the door behind yourself.

You can help but smile at his little giggles as he skips down the hallway to his own room now. He was something, but you were looking forward to more dates that would follow this one.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer imagine #hazbin lucifer imagine #lucifer magne #lucifer magne x reader

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marvelslittlewhore · 9 months

Text

Warnings

REQUEST | I can't help but think of rafe x reader x JJ at a party. She is being a brat to them and they warn her if she keeps it up she is in trouble. Rafe snaps and takes her upstairs to punish and then JJ comes in all sweet, like we warned u, and he praises her for being good for Rafe. Telling her to be good for him while he makes it beter.

PAIRING | mean!dom!rafe cameron x fem!reader x soft!dom!jj maybank

WARNINGS | 18+ MDNI! mentions of alcohol consumption, smut, threesome, p in v, oral (m and fem receiving), a frustrating cut-off because I didn't know how to continue sry

A/N | I'm not sure if I like this, love being insecure

◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹

"Please, just one more?" you whined, giving Rafe your best puppy eyes.

"I said no. You had enough for tonight," he said, nursing on the cup that he had just taken from your hand.

You frowned muttering something under your breath and jumped when you felt a sudden pinch on your butt, turning to face JJ. "You better watch it, cupcake."

You had given them an attitude the whole day and you knew you were already walking on thin ice but you just couldn't help yourself.

"He's being mean!" you pointed at Rafe without looking at him.

"And you're being a brat." Rafe snipped back and you gasped turning back to him.

"Am not." You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning against the wall between them.

"Gotta take a leak, be right back," JJ said kissing the side of your head before walking off.

You had a sour expression on your face and Rafe couldn't help but smirk at your antics, reaching out to poke your cheek, intending to make you smile but you only slapped his hand away, glaring at him.

The smirk he had left his face in an instant and his hand now grasped your chin, forcing you to look at him. "I've had enough of your attitude. Maybe you need a little reminder of who's in charge here, huh?"

If you haven't been wet before you would be soaking your panties now, melting into Rafe's touch, the buzz from the alcohol you had in your system giving it another kick.

Without another word he grabbed your hand, walking through the crowd of people and up the stairs, thank god the party was at Tannyhill tonight.

"What about JJ?" you asked looking over your shoulder for any sign of the blonde.

"He'll know where to find us, don't worry," Rafe responded, dragging you inside his room and closing the door but not locking it.

He turns back to you, crossing his arms, the look on his face tells you that he's not in the mood for any more of your games.

"Strip." he simply demanded and so you did without questioning, slowly slipping the strips of your dress off your shoulders, it smoothly falling off your body and onto the ground.

You stepped out of it, taking your bra off next, now standing in front of him in only your panties. He snapped his finger, pointing at the ground before him.

"On your knees."

You quickly did as told, face to face with his crotch before looking up at him.

"You know what to do, brat."

Your hands reached up to fumble with his belt, opening his sipper next and pulling his pants down with his boxers, his cock springing free and you almost drooled at the sight.

You got into action, stroking him slowly, your tongue swirling over the tip. When it took Rafe too long he grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail. "Open wide."

As you did he started to use you as he saw fit, it was a punishment after all. He throws his head back groaning at the way you gagged and garbled around him.

Then he held your head still and started to fuck your throat raw. "Fuck." he moaned, looking down at you, seeing the tears that brimmed in your eyes. "You better swallow it all."

Just as he said it you felt him twitch, spilling his load in your mouth with a groan, pulling out only to hold your chin and pressing his thumb on your tongue, leaning down to be closer to your face.

He smirked at how fucked out you already looked, hair and makeup a mess, breathing heavily.

"On the bed."

You quickly got up, scrambling on the bed and into position, grabbing onto the sheets in anticipation. You watched Rafe getting on the bed, opening your legs wide for him.

He kneads the flesh of your thighs and you yelped when he gave the right one a sudden smack, rubbing over the spot.

He hooked a finger in your panties, pulling them down in one go. "Damn, baby, you're dripping."

Your face flushed at this and you moaned when you felt the tip of his cock nudge at your entrance, slowly pushing in.

He didn't even let you breathe for a second, both of his hands holding onto your hips and fingers digging into your skin, starting to snap his hips at a brutal pace.

"Shit- Rafe," you whined and his hand came back down on your thigh in a warning for you to keep quiet, so you did by holding a hand over your mouth, closing your eyes.

You're so out of it that you don't even hear someone entering the room, but you instantly know who the ring-adorned hands belonged to that cradled your face.

"We warned you, didn't we?" JJ said, and you opened your eyes, tears forming again, and you knew this night was far from over. "But you're doing so good. Being such a good girl for Rafe."

Rafe didn't increase his movement and you mewled your hand shooting up to grip JJ's bicep tightly.

JJ coed and one of his hands snaked down to rub your clit, all the stimulation has you sending over the edge, the first orgasm of the night ripping through your body.

Rafe slowed down, fucking you through your high and leaning down to kiss you. When he pulled back he shuffled further down the bed to be at eye level with your pussy.

He instantly got to work, eating you out like you were his last meal. You squealed at the assault he was doing on your clit, turning your face to look at JJ pleadingly to do something, anything.

"It's almost over, princess, promise." he smiled at you "Until that..." he leaned his head down to suck on your nipple, his hand playing with the other.

These boys are gonna be the death of you.

◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹

Taglist

For everything:

@lokigirlszendaya @buckymydarlingangel @superlegend216

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bumblesimagines · 3 months

Text

The Sky's Empty

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers, F!Reader

Summary: Nobody understands Queen Helaena, absolutely nobody. She's always been the odd little girl who whispers senseless things. Nobody understands her. Nobody heeds her warnings. Nobody comforts her.... except for her loyal lady in waiting.

CW/TW: Spoilers for S2, death of a child, a mother in grief, Criston Cole, could be read as platonic or romantic written with a secret romance in mind tho

Heyyyy I promise I'll do a fluffy Helaena thing soon! This is for my beautiful girl kissers who love angst.

~~~

Another prince was dead.

(Y/N) could hardly comprehend it, could hardly believe the news she'd woken up to earlier than usual when the castle had abruptly come to life in swift panic before the sun had even begun to rise. Her maids had flocked to her bedchambers as quickly as their nimble feet could take them and woken her up with pale faces and wide eyes.

"They killed the prince," One told her, spinning around to retrieve the clothes (Y/N) would be wearing for the day while the woman in question stared groggily after her, left to sleepily turn to the other maid and furrow her brows in question. The other one sniffled, hardly containing the tears before they spilled from her eyes. "The Queen's son, My Lady! Prince Jaehaerys!"

At her words, (Y/N) had gone rigid with shock, mouth falling open and a wave of dread crashing into her like a cold wave eager to drown her in its depths. Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes widening until they were no doubt almost bulging from her head. Helaena... Helaena. She'd thrown the covers from her body and flew out of bed, her maids quickly springing into action to dress her and pull her hair back into a regal style befitting of a lady.

Access to the floor where the royal family slept had been restricted until the guards managed to capture one of the men involved but Dowager Queen Alicent and Otto had granted her permission to pass.

So, there she went, the front of her dress lifted slightly so she could speed through the halls and staircases in the direction of Helaena's bedchambers. Servants and guards stepped swiftly out of her way and dipped their heads in respect as she flew past them until she reached the doorway leading into the twin's bedchambers and stepped inside.

"Oh, Gods," She exhaled shakily and pressed a hand to her chest at the sight of the bloodstained sheets. Decapitated, she'd heard. Decapitated in front of his mother. Little troublemaking Jaehaerys who loved laughing and playing and getting up to no good with his father. (Y/N) inhaled deeply and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her body to calm itself and her heart to slow back down to a regular pace.

She swallowed and opened her eyes again, scanning the room until they landed on Helaena. "Oh, my dear Helaena." (Y/N) whispered, placing her fingers over her lips, refusing to let the tears fall yet. Helaena needed her. She needed her. (Y/N) swallowed down the bile threatening to rise and looked back toward the servants stripping the bed and mattress.

"I need you to move quicker." She told them icily and their movements quickened, hands fumbling and eyes frantically glancing in her direction. She watched them through narrowed eyes until they stumbled out of the bedroom and disappeared down the hall, forcing her attention to the guard standing by the door. Cole. Her shoulders squared and she strode toward him.

"My Lady," Ser Criston greeted forcibly, his eyes dancing between the partly taken apart bed and her face.

"Get out."

"I-"

"Get out." (Y/N) hissed, her hand flying out to grasp the collar of his chest plate and tug him closer to her. His eyes flashed with surprise and a hint of fear, his body going rigid beneath his armor. She leaned in to angrily whisper without Helaena hearing, "Do not pretend to be doing your job when you're simply here to rid yourself of guilt, Cole. A child died because of your failure. If it were up to me, you'd be stripped of your position and cloak, now, go. Nobody wishes to lay eyes on your face today, Ser."

Releasing him with a forceful shove, (Y/N) watched him stagger back and out of the doorway before she grasped the door and closed it in his face. She summoned all her anger and annoyance and forced it out in a long exhale, her fingers reaching down to grasp the skirt of her dress and raise it as she turned back around and approached the sorrowful mother.

"My darling," She cooed softly. Helaena barely looked like herself anymore. Her hair remained messy and unattended, her eyes red and marked with lack of sleep, her lips cracked and bitten from anxious nibbling. (Y/N)'s heart twisted at the sight of it.

"My boy... they wanted the boy... it was always going to be the boy... my boy," Helaena whispered, her eyes shining with unshed tears and cheeks stained with the ones she'd already shed. She sobbed and gasped, nearly collapsing over the table containing the children's toys. (Y/N) quickly stepped toward her and wrapped a delicate arm around her, the other one nudging Helaena's face into the crook of her neck. "They took him... they took him, they took my boy, my only boy."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. I'm here now, Helaena. I'm here. I will not leave your side, sweet darling, I will not. I promise." (Y/N) reassured, feeling Helaena's full weight lean into her as the mother slumped in her arms and sobbed into her shoulder. (Y/N) carefully lowered herself onto the floor, taking Helaena with her and cradling the weeping girl. She carefully began rocking side to side, whispering comforts and reassuring sentiments.

Helaena sniffled. "They... they wish to show his body to everyone..." She hiccuped and buried her face further in (Y/N)'s shoulder, staining the fabric of her dress with tears. Her arms wrapped loosely around her, seeking out every bit of comfort she could find through her crying. (Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut again, running her fingertips along Helaena's hair and scalp. Heartless fools the lot of them; too caught up in a war they began to care for anything else.

"I'm so sorry, Helaena. I'm sorry, my darling." (Y/N) continued to stroke her hair until her weeping subsided for the moment, leaving Helaena to nuzzle her cheek into (Y/N) shoulder and sigh shakily, occasional sniffles leaving her. (Y/N) stared at the bedframe of Jaehaerys bed, all too fond memories of helping Helaena get the twins down for the night flickering through her mind. Poor, sweet boy. A child brutally killed and for what? Revenge? Coin?

The door creaked open and a maid peeked in, her lips parting to speak but the scathing glare (Y/N) sent her way had her shutting the door again. (Y/N) slid her hand down to Helaena's hair to gently take her shoulders, carefully pushing her back slightly and cupping her wet cheek. "Come, my dear. We must get you dressed. I will attend to you, alright?"

Managing to coax Helaena onto her feet, she led the girl to her bedchamber and dismissed the maids. She helped Helaena dress in a gown fitting for a funeral and combed her hair, ensuring to give her encouragement and words of comfort throughout while her experienced fingers braided strands back into a bun. Helaena stared blankly at her lap so (Y/N) carefully took her hands and brought her attention up to her face.

"Helaena," She began, "You are no longer a princess bound to do whatever your mother and grandsire wish of you. You are the Queen of Westeros. You must speak with your husband. Aegon may be... volatile and unpredictable but I highly doubt this is how he wishes your boy to be remembered. You must tell him. His word is final. Not your mother's or Otto's or anyone on the council. His. You are his wife. Speak to him. Do not allow them to parade Prince Jaehaerys to be gawked by those who never knew nor cared for him."

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goldfades · 4 months

Note

for the next one, my idea was 🍀 for the prompt "until suddenly they whisper like a baby, “where’s my goodnight kissie?” i believe this gives paige and there's a lack of fluffy paige stories

- 🪐

evangeline's 2.5k celebration !! [open!]

─ warnings | sweet, sweet fluff! drunk!paige (but she's affectionate as shit) and obviously mention of substances, umm nothing else.

PAIGE'S HANDS WERE hanging off your waist as you walked toward the hotel elevator. she pulled you closer into her chest, you knew how affectionate paige is when she's drunk.

and right now, you're pretty sure drunk is an understatement. her giggles echoed softly in the hallway as she stumbled slightly, her breath warm against your ear. you couldn't help but smile at her carefree demeanor, despite the worry creeping into your mind about how much she'd had to drink.

as you reached the elevator, you pressed the button and waited for the doors to open. paige swayed a bit, leaning her head on your shoulder, you were her only anchor right now ─ you were sure she would simply just flop down on the floor if it weren't for you.

"you're the best," she mumbled, her words slurring slightly.

you chuckled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "and you're a handful," you replied softly.

the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. you guided her inside, her grip on you tightening. once inside, you pressed the button for your floor and leaned against the wall, pulling paige gently with you.

she looked down at you with red, bleary eyes that you knew were due to the drinks she's had (and the exhaustion of the entire trip). "you always take such good care of me," she said, her voice filled with a mix of affection and admiration.

you felt a warm flush spread across your cheeks. "of course i do, p. i love you,"

she smiled, a soft and genuine expression that made your heart flutter. "i love you too," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the elevator.

as the doors opened to your floor, you led her out, making your way to your room. paige clung to you, her steps unsteady. when you finally reached your door, you fumbled with the key card (you'd also had a couple drinks), managing to unlock it after a couple of tries.

inside the room, you helped her to the bed, where she flopped down with a content sigh. you couldn't help but laugh softly at her, her carefree nature always infectious.

"let's get you some water," you said, heading to the minibar to grab a bottle. you returned and handed it to her, watching as she took a few sips.

she patted the spot next to her on the bed. "come here," she demanded as you laughed.

as you laid down next to her, she immediately wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close. you could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, her heartbeat a comforting rhythm against your back.

"where's my goodnight kiss?" paige mumbled as she looked up from your chest, a grin on her face.

you shook your head in amusement before she quickly pulled you into a sweet kiss. she pulled away with a smile as she laid back down, a yawn escaping her lips.

"i love you," paige murmured, her voice drowsy.

"i love you too, paige." you smiled as you felt yourself getting tired as well.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#paige x reader #paige bueckers #uconn huskies #uconn #uconn wbb #wcbb #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #uconn women’s basketball #wbb x reader #wcbb x reader #wbb smut #evangeline's 2.5k celly ☆

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neteyamsilly · 2 years

Text

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 6

summary ;; This is the reality of Jake Sully: the father and Olo'eyktan of the People cannot coexist, Eywa teaches her lessons in the toughest ways. PART 5 | NEXT (wip) pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; well this took a hot minute. am back on my bs WARNING for violence and t0rture, reader discretion is advised. Please excuse my mistakes if you see any!

Jake moved on pure primitive instinct, unbridled arctic rage honing all his senses into one laser point of focus. It wasn’t survival, and it surely wasn’t prey running from predator, there was nothing noble about what he was trying to achieve.

That avatar was going to die today, and Jake was going to make it hurt. No fair game. No warrior’s death. No respect.

Devoid of the shape of humanity or the ties that bound him to it, he was the embodiment of a creature’s killer intent, body taking over and consciousness disappearing to the backseat as he catapulted his tomahawk at the avatar, taking advantage of the miniscule opening provided by a magazine change needed after emptying all of his bullets to a Jake luring him into wasting his resources away.

The dull squelch of the hand-carved ax’s head plunging into flesh couldn’t be dampened by the avatar’s choked and short shout, and Jake was jumping out of cover in no time, a bull to red, advancing towards the man, footsteps not hidden out of having no concern for it at all, let him panic or try to struggle for all Jake cared.

Opposite of what he expected, the rifle wasn’t picked up or fumbled to aim at him. The avatar, pale in the face and pupils having devoured the yellow, fear trumping the pain of his arm almost sliced off from shoulder, crawled away on his back from Jake in full speed, getting up before Jake could reach him, and started staggering into the forest, dropping the tomahawk in the process.

Jake stopped in his tracks for a moment and picked his weapon up, the dark liquid glistening purple in the light of the Tree of Souls, droplets of blood making the moss light up as they hit the ground. His chest heaved in controlled, loud breaths, mouth pulled back in a snarl, watching the pathetic son of a bitch trying to get away.

He was one of the lot who’d shot you, hurt you, tortured you — simply to get a reaction out of Jake.

He was the one who pulled Jake away before he could fix his mistakes, undo the damage they had done, and get you back.

Jake was so close. So close.

You were there. You were right there. He could still feel you in his arms, his shoulder imprinted with your tears, shiest of smiles at a better future he could build with you from the burnt soil of your relationship.

If it hadn’t been for him…

That man was your murderer.

He deserved the hell of a father’s making.

This avatar was a marine — and the fucking idiot was running into the oblivion blind worse than a normal civilian would in this situation, had all those years of training evaporated in one second? Jake’s steps were determined, yet lax following after the guy, nose picking up the trail of blood left behind, eyes watching the red splatters. This was all Hansel and Gretel for him, playing follow the breadcrumbs.

The sound of thumping, frantic running, bumping into obstacles, crashing into flora, all was distinguishable from the natural song of the forest Jake had gotten so familiar with in these fifteen years. No response came from the avatar, but Jake wasn’t hurrying. He would have him. Let the bastard tire himself out first — but he wouldn’t let him die. No. He could smell the fear, the blood, anger at bay, all ice, knowing the trees would carry all the sounds he needed to Jake. He could hear exactly where the avatar was. and If he was hoping he’d bleed himself out faster than Jake could reach him to save himself from what was going to happen, well…

He’d better start praying for mercy to whatever deity held his worthless faith, because Jake had none of it. They had no mercy for you, his sinless, innocent child, all but wails and yelps and blood, and apologies for it.

Every time Jake thought of you in that tremendous pain to the brink of delirium, he burned in his heart’s ice until he was black and purple all over. Your smile was so real, your embrace was tiny and warm in his arms and he had a chance, the only chance no parent could ever get in this life. Jake had dissolved together with that mirage.

The part of him engulfed in flames wanted to end this quickly and painfully—to burn it all, break that man in, scream his lungs out, the other part of him, frozen fury that scalded over in the loss of you, wanted to draw it out, wanted to inflict never-ending pain, to bring the avatar back from the brink of death over and over again just to repeat it in a cycle.

His child. His baby.

The ties that held Jake together were getting pulled tight, the pressure building like deep water currents, thinner threads snapping and crackling, body being pulled to all five directions from all five limbs. Awareness went out and barged its way back in hot flashes, he couldn’t comprehend the passing of time and how long he let your murderer catch the delusion of shaking Jake off his tail — but, his instincts knew to reveal himself before the avatar could be claimed by blood loss.

Dangling hope right in front of his face just to snatch it away wasn’t enough. It could never be enough compared to you who had dragged your own corpse back home, muted to your own pain cocooned between those who should have meant nothing but home and safety to you. Torture. You had lived torture in your last hours with help just one step, one word away.

Nothing would ever be enough.

Jake emerged from the thick flora like the grim reaper himself who would always be waiting right at the spot of the reaping wherever the soul ran away to, detached and unimpressed, blank face not reflecting the scorched soul inside. The almost passed out avatar jolted awake when he smelled the smoke from Jake’s shadow falling on him, and could only press his back further to the body of the cluster of big rocks he had taken shelter against as if somehow becoming one with it could shield him away from Jake’s wrath.

The man’s breathing was getting louder and shakier the more Jake stood there motionless. “C’mon then,” he said between clenched teeth, spasming hand dropping from his mutilated shoulder, squaring up the last drops of his courage. “Get on with it.”

Jake’s whitened fingers were making noise against the handle of his tomahawk, but his voice was hauntingly hollow, unfeeling now that he had the man right in his palm. “Thought I should let you live what you did to my daughter first.”

The avatar began to scream. “Fuck you, man, we didn’t do none of this shit to that kid—”

Jake’s tone didn’t change, but it cut worse than a knife. “You killed my kid.”

His eyes widened, breath hitching, the reality of what was coming to him finally sinking in and Jake witnessed every panicked second of it. “Fuck…” His gaze wildly alternated between Jake and the tomahawk, raising his better, trembling hand up for feeble defense. “Look, look, listen, we didn’t kill her, alright? We patched her up, okay, she was going to be a prisoner, what happened happened because you engaged in battle, we wouldn’t do that to a—AGH!”

He was interrupted by Jake sharply shoving the head of the tomahawk into his injury, just putting it in there, not moving it further down. “Do you have children, marine?”

The man palmed at the weapon, fingernails digging into the wood, but no matter how much he pushed, it didn’t budge one bit. “Stop, stop! Fuck—”

Jake repeated again, firmer. “I asked you a question, do you have children?”

“No!— No, god, argh!”

He spaced out for a while, watching him squirm and trash to get away with defeated, half-assed attempts, also unable to because of how much of an immovable object Jake was making the weapon buried in the open wound be. It would hit the bone if he used more strength.

With a fixed, stony stare, Jake removed the tomahawk, waiting for the man’s deplorable whimpers to recede before breaking him the news like reading it off a doctor’s report. “You won’t get to have any.”

He didn’t look like he cared about something like that, but the man knew his fate insinuated by the words. Nevertheless,it didn’t mean he could be free from the survivor’s instinct’s mood swings his body was putting him through. Denial to bargaining within minutes. “Just kill me already, you deserter piece of—”

“Oh, no, no no,” Jake reassured, the only flicker of emotion he had shown since he’d cornered the avatar. “You won’t get to die for a long time, either.”

The avatar grunted, head falling down before he started to shake it. “Please just let it end—man, just let it end, I’m sorry, okay, please!” A whole body-trembling begging shifted to anger the more Jake remained non-responsive. Watching. Just watching. The hole in his chest getting wider the more he fed this man’s suffering to it — it wasn’t enough. “Just fucking do it! Pussy ass bitch! Come on you blue motherfucker, kill me! Kill m—”

“Are you the one who shot my daughter?”

“What?”

“Are you. The one. Who shot my daughter?”

The avatar’s face twisted. “It wasn’t me—it wasn’t—asshole, you already killed the guy, I didn’t fucking do anything!—”

“You... didn’t do anything?”

A beat. The forest fell silent in Jake’s ears. Just like how the noises you made had abruptly died down as he was putting pressure on your wound.

And like that, the thick haze that had Jake desensitized blew over, unadulterated anger rushed to his body, acidic and nauseating, soul stitching back to his limbs by a million needles and he began to shake, face contorting, teeth showing itself, the hiss that lacerated his throat was the most terrifying one of his life yet, it didn’t sound like it belonged to a sentient being, twisted by a grieving, demented animalistic horror. The avatar’s breath hitched, whatever protest and voice he had escaping deep inside his body, ears pinned back to his head.

“Of course,” Jake glowered, swallowing the scorching stones blocking his throat. He closed his burning eyes, and was greeted by the image of you, opening them back again, and shaking the ax as if it was an accusing finger.

And without a word of warning, his hand shot down and grabbed the avatar from the neck of his tactical vest, hurling him over the chest-level array of big rocks forming a pointy bed above, ignoring the cries of pain as the abused, torn open flesh of the wound dragged through the sharp teeth of the gravel, dousing them in blood. “Please, please, stop!—I’m sorry, I was wrong, that wasn’t right, shit, shit!”

Jake snatched the man’s dominant arm that was coincidentally the same one dangling by fractured bone and tendons from the shoulder. His soul had known what he wanted right from the start before his brain had processed it. “This hand,” he spat, holding it from the wrist, gnashing his teeth. “that pulled the trigger at me…”

Murdered his daughter for a second time.

All a soldier’s worth for. One hand to hold the stock tight against the body and one to fire. All that to take a single life.

Leaning the hand down against the rock in a sudden move, Jake slammed on the blunt, pointy end of the tomahawk on it like he was hammering a nail, the sickening crack of the bones breaking got followed by the avatar’s fractured scream.

Jake saw you hunched, cheekily laughing in the blue and purple of the creek, freckles glowing because of the eclipse, silhouette illuminated by the floating bioluminescent bugs.

Spinning the tomahawk in his clammy hand in a full 360 turn, he smashed it down once more, stronger. The metal broke skin and sank into spongy muscle. His ears were buzzing, ringing from how the shrill yells.

Jake was hugging you after what seemed to be years, and your little arms were clinging to him for life — you were sand slipping from his fingers.

Jake hammered again.

You were telling him how mean he was to you, your voice suppressing the avatar’s.

He brought it down one more time and felt the tomahawk recoil from hitting rock.

You were bashful as you repeated how Jake would always love you.

Guttural breaths getting louder with effort each hit, he kept slamming it down until everything was his beautiful little sweet girl.

Again.

Again and again and again and again and again until there was no resistance from the limb anymore and the man had gone silent and it was all mashed meat he was pounding—

And then he almost plunged it to your bleeding, battered corpse, your stomach covered in reddish brown from the dried brown, body ashen blue, and Jake cried out in terror, jumping back and losing strength in his legs as the tomahawk flew from his hand and he fell over.

His lungs constricted, refusing to take any breaths in and his heart ricocheted around in his ribcage, he was gaping at the wall of rock now washed red as if it was some white rose painted red in Alice in Wonderland.

Jake sat there for the longest time, dissociated.

In those moments, he wasn’t Toruk Makto, he wasn’t Olo’eyktan, he wasn’t the pillar of a family of seven. He was simply Jake Sully.

However, he wasn’t allowed to be stripped down to the bone until all that’s left was a mourning father. That was Jake’s reality.

He had to cast the crippled man aside, the tragedy of his child away, and bring the leader of the People out right as your ghost rippled in his vision, watching spitefully within the forest — because all you wanted was for him to be your father, and he couldn’t even fucking do that after your death.

This avatar was a valuable asset, a hostage to question. For the sake of his people.

He wasn’t allowed revenge.

A single drop of tear rolled down expressionless face. When he looked down, Jake’s hands were still stained with your blood.

The only instance a child should be covered in blood is when they come out of their mother’s womb, little lungs being burned with existence for the first time, crying from the pain of being separated from Eywa’s arms, birth mother a complete stranger to them.

The gore of you barely clinging to life, unmoving, drenched in your own blood, wiped and wiped to the point Neytiri had to change buckets of water until it turned light pink was overlapping with the joyful image of your newborn self she had lovingly and gently cleaned of the remains of labor with wetted mothsilk, skin too sensitive for water for the moment, the blue coming alive as the blood and other clotted bodily fluids were cleansed.

It wasn’t the broken, ice-cold, lithe body of a young girl Neytiri had cleaned in the torment of her excoriated, unraveling mind, it was her baby’s. Her baby, her poor baby with a gaping hole in the middle of your body, memories marauding Neytiri’s lucidity.

She lived the moment of your first cleansing over and over again.

You were a particularly indomitable cryer, Neytiri had known you would be infamous for your battle cries right as she was brought back from the blackout of post-birth by your overly-healthy wailing — or perhaps you would best Ninat as a singer when you’d unapologetically blossom, but one thing was ascertained: her first daughter was a fierce, fiery blue ball of ardor compared to Neteyam, who was almost shy and reluctant in disturbing people around him in his weeping that a collective worry for his health had plagued the whole clan.

As you squirmed, smeared in chunks of her flesh and blood, as if you wanted to jump off from her arms and start walking already, Neytiri had smiled up at her Jake, your father, unable to take his eyes off you, stuck between awe and laughs that came and went. “She has your heart,” she’d told him, spent and hurting, but wonderfully alive. “Strong.”

He’d traced his thumb through her drenched hairline. “Lungs, you mean?” His scent, wind and hearthfire, had enveloped Neytiri when Jake had leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I think they’re yours.” The teasing about how you had made Neytiri scream in labor wouldn’t have gone unpunished if she wasn’t on the edge of sleep held up only by your crying, so, he’d gotten a light hit on the side of his face instead. But Jake knew how to apologize, he’d always been spectacular at it. “I’d say she takes after me in appearance, look at her little ugly face.”

To Neytiri, you were beautiful, face dark purple from how strong you were screaming, and a mini-village elder with the wrinkles, swinging those little fists — things that made you lovely in her eyes. Her first daughter.

She had learned motherhood from Neteyam, but she would learn to understand her mother and her choices through you, someone she thought couldn’t be more different from her — Neytiri, all Mo’at could have been, and Mo’at, all Neytiri might have become, once. She prayed you would love her as much as she’d begun to love you the second you were in her arms.

To think the enormity of her love hadn’t reached you — it was one of the greatest failures of Neytiri’s life. If it had, you’d be wounded, but perfectly conscious and well in her mother’s tent. If it had, you would have been beyond comfortable telling those demons had hurt you.

In that all-consuming devastation, the woven towel she was using to wipe the thin sheet of sweat that formed on your body slipped from her uncoordinated hands and fell on your chest, and Neytiri had to hold back the breath that spiked to become a hiccup by covering her mouth, and immediately, her curled hand was engulfed in a smaller, five-fingered one. She came eye-to-eye with Kiri after raising her head, putting her other hand on hers at the girl’s more disheveled and messy self, heart dropping to her stomach at the fatigue varnishing an extra layer of moisture in her daughter’s drooping eyes.

“Oh Kiri,” Neytiri mumbled, caressing her cheek and brushing the tangled hair away from her face.

“Why don’t you go get some rest, mom, hm?”

“Even if I somehow agreed to that, I could never agree to leaving my daughter alone in this.”

“I’m fine.” Stopping to take a breath, she sighed, collecting the towel and starting to fold it. “Well, not really fine, but don't worry about me. We’re all miserable here. And that’s natural.” Fiddling with the corners of the cloth, she leaned in a bit and lowered her voice, light reflecting from the yellow of her irises making it look like they shone from within. “I… I know she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. Eywa has bestowed us a gift she has never given to anyone before and it’s for a reason. I feel that everything will be set right.” She shook her head up and down, determined. “Dad will do it. I know he will.”

Neytiri trusted Kiri with her intuition and understanding when it came to the inscrutable intentions of Eywa, she was closer to the Great Mother than any Tsahik was — so close that she would drift away too much from her family. And deep down, Neytiri was heartsick by this invisible line that separated her from her daughter, any parent in her place would be unsettled like this.

She was also hog-tied to close the distance growing between them because of the human boy Spider and how she would find camaraderie in him in their ‘orphan’ status as she called it. Kiri was already faraway in her obscure existence and unwittingly separated herself as if she didn’t see herself as a real part of the family some days, and Neytiri hated that the ‘kinship’ she’d formed with Spider was planting these ideas into her head when she was her and Jake’s daughter, no more, no less. To overwrite those feelings, she tried so hard to reach Kiri, but was unsettled by the feeling of being hated sometimes, again, more or less for her stance in placing Spider at the outskirts of their family.

But oftentimes Kiri would express her affection through small, otherwise unnoticeable actions, just like this one, a caring touch and reassurance that could melt an ice cube — and Neytiri basked in the babiest of steps between them. And maybe this was how Jake had it with you, too, she had never thought about it like this before.

Taking in Neytiri’s solemn silence, Kiri grumbled, suddenly agitated about something. “I just… I just wish I had isirka resin and xhikul seeds for this paste and cover her wound with it. Grandmother’s extract isn’t enough to stimulate the bone marrow and ugh—” The girl groaned with the obvious guilt at groaning in the first place, as well. “I’m sorry, mom, I don’t know what—”

“It’s alright, Kiri,” Neytiri said, weariness blending with tenderness, knowing you’d agree too. You would have probably told her to not waste her energy and wait around when there wasn’t anything left to do anyway. “Maybe it’s you who needs some rest. You’ve worked hard. Harder than any of us. You do need rest, too.”

Kiri was quick to refuse. “I’m trying something new, I can’t go anywhere.”

“I’m sure one of your brothers—”

Her earpiece buzzed alive. “Neytiri, do you read me?”

The unexpected timing of it caught her off guard, her hand flying up to the device, drums of alarm going off in her head by the croaky, despondent note to his voice. The impact of their previous argument evaporated from existence just by hearing his distress. “Jake?” She focused on you, not observing any difference, and frowned in worry, her pulse picking up pace as Kiri also locked her attention to her the moment she heard her father was on the line. “What happened?”

“I have here one of Quaritch’s dreamwalkers—whatever they are.” Neytiri’s mouth opened and closed at the reveal, forehead creasing. “Alive. Somehow survived to get to the Tree of Souls.”

Her hand instinctively descended to touch your cool and clammy arm closest to her. “Tree of Souls…? But you were—”

“Yeah. Yeah, he… I couldn’t. I couldn’t…”

She stared at your face, all thoughts draining from her mind. “What are you saying, Jake?”

Silence.

“Jake,” Neytiri implored, her voice snuffed out towards the end. She tried again. “Jake, I don’t understand. What does this mean..?”

“Son of a bitch pulled me out before I could… before I could finish talking to her.” Kiri reached for her when she let out an incoherent, disbelieving voice, getting more panicked as Neytiri clawed at her tightening chest with his next words. “I failed, Neytiri. I couldn’t… She…”

Neytiri was physically helpless to respond, and Kiri couldn’t hold back from inquiring seeing the state she was in. “Mom? Mom! What’s wrong?”

“This man, if it wasn’t for this man, I had it.” Jake kept talking at an increasing speed the longer Neytiri didn’t say anything. “I had her right in my arms, making future plans, smiling, everything was perfect, and then he—” His breath quivered. “He fucking—” And he stopped the sentence abruptly to get some semblance of control back because Eywa knew Neytiri was losing it ever so slowly. “I need you here with me right now, please. Please, I…”

Neytiri refused to acknowledge what Jake couldn’t say out loud. You were still breathing, she felt your chest rise and fall even if the pattern was weak. You had life left in you. Jake saying he failed made no sense to her, she didn’t believe it.

“Neytiri, I need to question this… this filth, need to learn all I can about what’s going on, but I can’t do it on my own. I’ll kill him. In a heartbeat. I want to squeeze the life out of him with my hands right this moment and I— I can’t… We have to know how they could have gotten this far, what they’re planning—and now right to the Tree of Souls too, and…” The rambling that got chaotic and disconnected faded off eventually, as if he’d lost his voice. “Shit.”

And throughout all that, Neytiri had gone from confused, in denial, at the threshold of grief but not nearly in there anchored by your pulse, and lusting for blood within minutes. Kiri was taken aback by the anger radiating from her. “Bring him here!”

“I can’t. He could have a tracker on him—they could have put it in his body. I can’t risk that.”

Neytiri stood up with only one thing in her mind, and it didn’t match Jake’s. “Where are you?”

“You gotta let me pass, buddy, come on! You wanna take my head off or something? Why are you being like this!”

Hands up and quick on his feet, Lo’ak was trying to negotiate.

With an ikran of all things. Not even his.

Yours.

Mom storming out like a wronged, vengeful spirit had been the perfect chance for him to do a quick supply run sneak off, but your overgrown big bird with the exact same attitude as you was getting in his way and blocking Lo’ak off by snapping its jaw at his head and opening its sunset fire tinged wings every time he attempted to cross over to his own ikran. They were basically at a standstill and he had no idea why.

Lo’ak just wanted to help. Help you.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Shit.

Neteyam. Making his way to him with such speed that got his braids swinging and of course he’d sniffed Lo’ak out like a nantang. Followed the odd silence, probably. Eywa, he should have thought this out better.

“Skxawng, do you not remember what dad said?”

“I do,” Lo’ak hummed and hawed, and that was the problem. He’d never felt this guilty about disobeying dad’s orders before, it was making him squirm. “But look, Kiri said she needed isirka resin and xhikul seeds or whatever to treat her, I’m going—”

Neteyam’s jaw had flexed when he said whatever, but there was no visible agitation after he gave a sharp breath through his nose. “So let’s call mother or—”

“They’re busy with some sky person dad caught—”

“I know. The same ones who did this to our sister. I know, Lo’ak.” Neteyam aggressively gestured to the exit of the cave system, shaking his arm while speaking. “What do you think will happen if you go off on your own and land yourself in bigger trouble than she did? Huh?”

Lo’ak threw resentful looks at your ikran. “I can’t stay put like this. I have to do something.”

“This again? There is nothing we can do.” He hadn’t said that in his normal drilling of dad’s orders — Neteyam had the same pain of acceptance that were Lo’ak’s bruises etched onto his face.

And that made Lo’ak want to throw up all over the place. He’d experienced countless sicknesses his siblings had fallen to over the years, none of those were as fatal as this and he didn’t know what the fuck to do. What was he supposed to do when his sister was dying? What did one do when a family member was in this situation anyway? Nothing seemed right to him.

And something was finally, finally within his power — and Lo’ak would of course rise up to the challenge without hesitation. He wasn’t just going to sit down and let that possibility of your salvation slip by. “But there is. Kiri said—”

“Lo’ak if you leave right now and somehow get caught dad will never trust you again. He was the most open he’s ever been, don’t betray him like that.”

He was getting annoyed that Neteyam was ignoring the whole point, though it wasn’t as if Lo’ak didn’t know. He was fully aware, and that’s why this was supposed to be a secret. Dad couldn’t be hurt by what he didn’t know now, could he? Not only were you getting Kiri’s remedy, which he was sure as his name was Lo’ak that would end up most effective, but he also wasn’t breaking his promise to dad when the tiniest thread of trust in his son was knotted by the man just recently.

Neteyam grabbed him by the top of his head in a brotherly manner but his hold was of steel, the boy tried to grumpily push him off but he didn’t budge, staring right into his soul. “Use what’s in this for once and just tell dad or mother, they’re down in the forest already anyway.” When he let go, Lo’ak stumbled back, rubbing the sting off, and the semi-playful older brother was back. “And one of them will actually know what to look for.”

His immediate response was refusal. “I know what I’m looking for—”

“What does isirka look like?”

The sounds your ikran was making was eerily close to laughter and Lo’ak felt heat rush up to the tips of his ears. “It’s a tree.”

Neteyam didn’t have brow hair like Lo’ak did, but the way he raised the lines was always more expressive than how he did it. “Xhikul, then?”

“Flower, skxawng.”

“Wrong.” Lo’ak’s tail started beating the air at the condescending tone. “Kiri is talking about the fruit. Xhika is its flower.”

He rolled his eyes, turning away. “Whatever—”

“Is it whatever?” Neteyam grabbed Lo’ak by the shoulder and spun him around so rough that he got dizzy. “Are you calling my sister’s life whatever?”

Lo’ak was going to explode from how wrong this was going and how insistent Neteyam was to twist his words. “That’s not what I meant bro!”

“You are so careless.” Neteyam’s tail had shot up ramrod straight, the little bush of hair at the end of it all puffed up, ears perking in all directions. He wasn’t necessarily yelling but was tense all over, something he did whenever they were playing back in the day and he was about to pounce after staying still enough to implant a false seed of safety. “You don’t even think about what can happen if you were to bring a completely different ingredient! You don’t think!”

“Sorry that I’m trying to help! What are you doing?”

“Keeping us safe. Keeping you safe.” He pressed his lips together on a thin line, but couldn’t hold back whatever was bubbling inside. “I’m not losing another sibling, Lo’ak!”

Only a small gasp escaped Lo’ak when he opened his mouth in retaliation. He couldn’t have found his voice even if he found something to say to that rawness in return, anyway.

The gut-churning guilt doubled.

“Hey… I—”

“Go,” Neteyam whispered, tilting his head together with the lone word. “Since you’re dying to help, help Kiri. She’s exhausted. I don’t think grandmother will refuse.”

“What about you?” And there he goes again. Wrong words. Neteyam was looking more closed-off than before. “I’m not accusing or anything—”

“I can’t go in there.”

“What?”

“I can’t,” Neteyam took a deep breath and loudly let it go, tail deflating, the arch of it depressing as hell for some reason. “I can’t look at her.”

Neteyam just gave a forlorn smile in return to Lo’ak’s heavily concerned looks demanding he continue but not knowing how to word it, his back looked weirdly lonely as he was tending to your significantly calmer ikran to join back the horde.

Buried in negative thoughts all the way back and ignoring the pitiful looks from the rest of the clan, he met Kiri outside of the healing tent talking to Spider, and he could see Tuk’s back covering the view to you in his peripheral.

They were whispering about something and it was obvious even from a distance where they were nothing but stick figures. At least try to look less suspicious, Lo’ak thought.

The only part he caught from the conversation was Spider saying, “Just describe them to me,” — Kiri was really leaning in towards him.

“What’s going on?”

The two looked like they were caught in the middle of scheming, and it clicked almost immediately.

If Lo’ak had thought of going off on his own, so had they.

“You aren’t going anywhere, bro,” he said, draping his arm across the human boy’s shoulders. “Neteyam’s literally patrolling.”

“You have to be kidding me,” Spider groaned, visibly disappointed. It warmed Lo’ak’s heart to see he was totally down for sneaking off the camp for you. “You said your dad told him to rest.”

“Yeah, he did. Except Neteyam never rests. He has a dancing glow worm up his ass.”

The conversation couldn’t continue because Kiri did a double take at something.

“Tuk!” Kiri took a few steps aside, squinting as if she didn’t think she was seeing it right. Then her expression burst into panic, her hands flying forward as she ran to the tent, Spider and Lo’ak could only stare, baffled. “Tuk, oh Eywa, what are you doing!—”

“I’m giving her water, she’s thirsty.”

“What?”

He actually rushed to the entrance of the tent, nearly falling headfirst in, having stumbled on some rock. Your mouth was actually open. And Tuk was really trying to get you to drink from the bowl she was holding against your mouth.

You choked at one point, still unconscious, but it was a sign of life. Lo’ak didn’t know if the shocked screech came from him or Kiri.

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#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader

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honestsycrets · 11 months

Note

omg sex worker miguel o’hara? 🤧🫡

grande | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader

❛ pairing | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader.

❛ type | extended drabble; 2kish words; explicit

❛ summary | you probably shouldn't tell a man that he's small. even if you've known him a very long time-- and especially if you see him fuck every day.

❛ tags | sex worker au, improper use of belts, male receiving oral, slight disagreements, workplace argument, Spanish is not translated

❛ sy’s notes | ...i now have an escort!miggy x rich girl!reader in my drafts to be finished at some other time because it became a bit depressing and plotty. needed something light to get back into writing for a bit.

He doesn’t play fair. Most women understand that about him. They know Miguel to be the man who bends the delicate boundaries of rules for a good fuck— be it a place, be it a position. Miguel would do what he had to for a better clip.

“Miggy?” You said, hands behind your hips. He should have known then that you were up to some shit. You hover somewhere in his vision with a sugar-sweet smile. You’ve worked with him alongside him since he chose this profession. Most days, he watched you sit by your favorite window that cast a warm midday sun, tacking away with fingers that flew across the keys. Some days, you’re watching him-- mounted on another woman. He cocked his thick brow at you.

“What?”

“I… it’s just… fuck. Elena had something come up.”

“Like I said she would."

Miguel set his fist to his cheek, swirling his protein shake in the other hand. This woman was your idea, not his. There’s a reason your voice choked on the words. You were anxious about your news the way your hands rounded to the front of your body, clammy hands plastered onto your tablet.

“I just thought—“

“I know what you thought. You thought my followers would like her.” He took a swig of his drink. “Not if she’d like me.”

That was exactly the issue. You do too much worrying about what the viewer likes, not enough about what he would like. He was well aware from every ping from Elena and the contorted little face you made that she was scared of him. As to why, he was not certain. He's grumpy, not dangerous.

“She does like you— it’s just your dick,“ you fumbled with your tablet, nearly spilling it over on his lap. “I told her you weren’t that big. She’s just— dramatic.”

“Not that big?”

You’re not winning this fight. He threw a look at the tablet, finding your suggestion more egregious than your description of it. Too thick! She complained. He’d stretch her out. Or, so she feared. He sincerely doubted that. She took enough dick that if that were the case, she’d have an issue long before now.

He’s not that big in real life. All that big dick crap is just marketing. I see his dick all the time.

Then you fuck him!

His mouth flattened into an unmoveable line, clearly unappeased with your response. For a moment, he did not move. He did not fidget. Nor respond. He simply stared down at you with those sharp, unhumored eyes. What little security you had in convincing him flitted away. He abandoned his drink on the table and leaned in close. Close enough that his thick strands of dark hair tickle your skin. Enough that you can smell the perfumed oil that lingered on his tanned skin. He always smelled so good.

“Until you’ve fucked me onscreen,” he brushed past. “Don’t tell women who will what I’m like.”

Oh. You made a mistake.

You don’t like it when Miguel is angry.

Most days coming to work, Miguel has a hot coffee on the table for you as you edit his finest ball-busting work. When the days stretch a little too long, he tells you when enough is enough. And, if you were lucky, he hovered at the stove and made you something to eat. It gave you a perfect sight of his toned shoulders and the long column of his spine-- which he so graciously allowed you to drool over day by day. Today, there was no half-dressed hunk making your delicious meals in sight.

He’s still angry. You pulled up his socials, scrolling through the responses to the latest video. A teasing blooper of a clip with a woman with Miguel’s length halfway down her throat, coughing up his seed all over her chest as you mistakingly giggle behind the screen.

“Keep laughing and see what happens,” Miguel drifted to yours, eyes hazy and soft, chest rising violently with the sundering sensation of his orgasm. He watched for the span of only a few heartbeats, a decadent warning exchanged between the two of you immeasurable before the camera. He reached for a tissue.

“Perdóname, papi.”

Does anyone know if they’re fucking? A user asked. It’s as if Miguel’s co-star was but a fading character. Any chance of seeing him fuck her?? Whats her @?

She’s just his employee.

Need this.

Just an employee. The words pulled on a string of connection that could at any time be cut. Miguel had no interest in wielding the scissors to do so, rather, over the past few years the string only became stronger. He’ll get over it. You stared at the reflection of your poorly made cup of cafecito, undrunken because no one made it like Miguel made it. He’s there, hovering around the sink, but you feel all the more alone in the room. Producer, editor, friend-- your eyes fell back to the cup.

“Are you done?” Miguel hovered by your coffee cup. It was cool to the touch.

“Ah. Sí.”

You gazed up at him, regret seeping from your features. If you apologized yet again, he’d simply leave the room. There are no good words. No ones that would make sense, no words that would… be good enough to make him come back when he’s in this mood, unmoveable and distant. You’re so close to him-- but all alone.

He takes the cup away.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Miguel dropped his phone on your office desk. It thumped over the tablespace, his expression morphing into something wrong. You turn his phone upright, knowing the contents before the information actually registers in your mind.

“It’s a picture of me,” you closed the top of your laptop and whirled around in the chair, knocking your knees against his. He’s closer than he’s been in days.

“Yes. But what else?” he rumbled.

You’re not stupid, remembering the launch of merch that Miguel sincerely doubted anyone would be seriously interested in. How many people wore a male sex worker’s merch? This was all your idea, of course. Your lip is bitten fat, stripped of skin. Your eyes wandered across the table to the cabinet with an array of different cameras. Miguel rapped his scarred knuckles over the table, blocking your desperation for an escape. He wanted a substantial answer.

“You told me to make sure it sold.”

“And that meant model with your ass out on my page.”

“You don’t like it?”

"Dios," that’s not the point. He breathed a forceful breath, navigating your rolling chair up against the bed in the room. Typically the bed was used for a late night at the office or one of Miguel’s performances with any number of women you cast him with. Or, as you preferred, when he masturbates by himself-- squeezing his hand along his length as your phantom hand poured more wet lubricant over his cock. The sheets are always stained and consequentially changed.

“I don’t like that they know what you look like,” Miguel supplied, his chest cresting into a fall. His gaze fell to your hands, settled in a clasp over your short skirt. Now he knew what you looked like. “Do you know how many requests I have to…”

“Fuck me.”

“Sí,” Miguel said, your name dying on his tongue. “To fuck you.”

“Then do it. You have a camera.”

What-- his gaze read. It’s in the way his brow pushed together, how his lips fell just so lightly apart. He would say something more, but your hands are on his dark slacks, tracking up toward his sturdy leather belt. In only an hour or so, Miguel was meant to record with Elena, who, you convinced. He should be saving his stamina for that, not this. Even so, his hands hovered atop your own, grunting slightly in response, unable to stop what you were doing.

“Don’t ask me to ruin you.”

“I think you already have,” you murmured, finding his soft cock. You stroked him through his pants, drawing along his length, getting him where you want him. With every scene you recorded, you knew what Miguel liked. You knew he liked scenes where he could take his time, as short and far between as they were. You want that too. You drew the belt loose and unbuttoned the little spry button. So close, you could almost taste him.

“Are you going to record it?” You gestured toward the desk, pulling his cock into the free air. He’s an impressive length, just as you recall, you think he has to be to be an adult actor. The real treat is Miguel’s thick girth, swirled with delicious veins. You had seen his dick at least a hundred times, delighted in watching him meet his orgasm time and time again, and touched yourself to the thought of being just like his many girls.

“No,” Miguel pulled his belt from the loops and tugged it around his wrist. He let the other hand find the back of your head, weaving through smooth locks of hair, guiding your lush lips to his cock. “This is all for me.”

When he spoke like that, all you wanted was to make him happy. Your moist mouth separated, warm breath tickling the length that he shoved into your wet mouth. Maybe Elena had a point, you think, suckling around his length once, drawing to his fat tip. He hums in response, bucking back deep into your mouth. Miguel didn't want to wait, causing you to gag over his length, a terrible coughing resonating about his dick. Now that he had you here, he would show you how wrong you were.

“I thought I wasn’t that big,” Miguel’s hand left your head, stretching his belt across the back of your neck. Bucking forward, you gagged around his length, scratching his clothed hip for some mercy. If he wasn’t so big-- you could take it, couldn’t you? “Just like that. Hm? Cómo?”

He was gracious enough to allow you off his cock, gasping for air as you were, the depth of his plunging cock having pricked a few oversensitized tears on the sides of your eyes. You’re beautiful like that, overwrought and needy. Your heart rattled in the confines of your ribcage, wheezing as you jerked him pathetically. How certain you look now, tugging on him for a moment of relief.

“I’m sorry--”

“Ya sé.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, guiding him back into your mouth. Your cheeks hollowed out, drawing him in fast and hard. If not for the belt around the back of your neck, he might have stumbled, stuck between the warmth of your mouth and the pleasured groans tickling his length. You’re well-accustomed to what the girls do, stretching your palm around his dick.

“Harder,” he remarked, throwing a half-chewed-up curse aside. Unlike with the other girls, he’s weak before the pleasure, usually focused and refined, his jaw clenches. He’s gotten weak-- has it been that long since he’s had sex outside of the roll of the camera?

“Miggy,” you pulled back, your sloppy tongue swirling about his fat tip. He catches the moan in his chest, refusing to let it crest over, not yet. His eyes catch yours, muscular stomach flexing, he’s listening. “I want to taste you. Can I taste you?”

You’re such a good niña. Miguel forces you back to your rightful place on his cock, the band stretched so tight around his fists that he might break it. Your name becomes an unbearable, pleasurable slur on his tongue. He’s a trained man, knowing to cum when you say to come on each shoot. In many ways, he's your trained dog: cuming when he's told to.

His length pulsed in your mouth for one final thrust before he gave you what you wanted, strands of release spraying the back of your warm little mouth. You suckled him up, even as he tried to pull free. You cleaned his cock, sucking him nice and clean. Miguel brushed off your attempt to zip him away.

“Don’t bother,” Miguel breathed, pulling at the black-tie strapped to his throat. His white dress shirt was soaked, causing him to roll the sleeves up to his elbows. His voice dropped, well-fucked out but nearly ready for another round. “Your cunt is next.”

“But Elena is on her w--”

“Fuck her,” Miguel waved his hand, slouching into your chair. “Fix the camera. We have a video to shoot.”

If nothing else-- now you can tell her how big he really is.

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #atsv imagines #atsv imagine #atsv fic #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #miggy x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara smut

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luvontour · 2 years

Text

❥ . . jealousy, jealousy > joe goldberg

- joe’s happy you’re making friends in london, until he notices the way that stupid writer looks at you.

joe’s hand settles on your hip as soon as the door closes behind him. it’s become a habit since your early stages of relationship. he simply follows as you say your hellos and press your cheek against other girls’ faces with loud kissing noises.

from what you told him, he wasn’t really interested in meeting your friends, if anything he thought of them as one of the many reasons he clung to you a little bit tighter every morning

“y/n, you made it!” joe watches as a peppy blonde throws her arm over your shoulder, not minding how the two of you were almost tangled together.

“hi! phoebe, this is my husband, joe” the blonde brightens up (something joe thought impossible) when you present him. he only nods with a small smile and shakes her hand, despite her attempts of hugging him.

she smiles “come, come. i have to introduce someone to you”

his hand burns into your side, fragments of earlier and your poor attempt of a quickie still in your head as the two of you follow after your friend(ish) to a secluded bar. where a pale, almost your height man sat, swirling his shot of whiskey in its glass. joe recognized him immediately. it’s rhys montrose, the writer nadia had been talking to him about earlier.

“rhys! y/n, the girl i had been talking to you about and her husband joe”

“it’s my pleasure” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. joe doesn’t miss the way his eyes roam you over, throwing the cleavage of your dress a longer stare, he watches you all over, probably imagining lewd scenarios only your husband was lucky to experience.

he wants to leave then and there, but he wants to give it a chance, for you. he can’t think of another reason as to why he would sit there and gulp through this guy’s staring and his always dismissed attempts at flirting with you.

he sees a perfect window when you excuse yourself from the group, something about the powder room, which you never get to, because along the way, he manages to sneak the two of you off to one of many guest rooms.

he knows you felt it too, the way rhyse was staring and making inappropriate jokes, undermining joe and your relationship, inviting you on many scenarios in which he wasn’t included, he doesn’t need anything other than his rough lips and kisses to express what he’s feeling right now.

angry, jealous, possessive? those were just a few of the feelings coursing through him as he moans into your mouth, caving and letting your fingers tangle in his hair and steer him around like a puppy.

“please” your plead breaks him, you look so pretty like this, everytime, even if you were worse than him, kinkier, dirtier, he adored having you like this, under his frame, blushed, sweaty and with your chest racing as if you had just gone running.

“i don’t know doll, what exactly are you asking me for?” his nose nips at your cheek and so do his lips, pressing open mouthed kisses to your skin as he waits for an answer

“fuck me.” he groans when you whisper so sweetly. “please, i want you inside me”

“fucking hell” he struggles to pull away from you even slightly. “you just know i can’t resist when you ask me like that”

there’s some fumbling, but he manages to fish himself out of his pants, tucking your thin underwear to the side before he easily sinks inside you. the two of you make animalistic- guttural sounds at the feeling, and he can’t help when he says

“can’t believe that guy thinks he even has a chance” he chuckles against your jaw before nipping at it, and he just stares. at your furrowed brows, your parted lips. and he listens to your whiny noises and how needy you get for him, and he feels complete.

not as fulfilled as he feels though when he’s sure rhys has heard you, moaning his name over and over until you come.

“y/n?” there’s some incessant knocking, and a faux concerned man on the other side. “are you okay in there darling? you’ve been a while”

“y-yes. yes! im good rhys. i’ll be out in a minute, i think”

“is there anything i can do to help?” god, you wish you could see the two of you from afar. joe’s nibbling at your jaw and neck while your arms around his own keep you closer than ever, your fingers tangling in his hair as you clench your pussy around him. you can’t pretend you’re just touching up your makeup in there. you can care less if the man is waiting for a response, the way joe whispers against you both reassurance and degradations sends shocks of electricity to your poor and abused bundle of nerves.

“are you gonna come?” he chuckles “come on my dick baby, let him hear you. let him know he will never be inside you. that he will never make you feel this good. show him”

“fuck- joe. i’m so close, please”

“i know angel, i’ve got you.” almost on purpose, his hips slam deeper and faster, his thumb quickly presses back and forth on your clit and with his beard grazing against your neck it all becomes too much for you to take. and you’re soon shaking around him, biting his lip after a chain of profanities and his name that you hoped were masked by the music playing outside.

all of this, unaware of the encounter your husband was going to have just outside the door with the relentless writer who did in fact hear everything that just went down

#joe goldberg imagine #joe goldberg #joe goldberg imagines #joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg x you #joe goldberg smut #penn badgley #penn badgley imagine #penn badgley smut #you imagines #you smut #gif from emotional-emotion

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6sakusa · 2 years

Text

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Content: FWB relationship, missionary, fingering, mating press, creampie, riding, jealous!eren, him just being soft tbh.

A/N: Not proof read and written on a whim sorry not sorry.

Summary: Eren Jaeger is genuinely incapable of doing friends with benefits, he always seems to have problems with the ‘no strings attached’ part of it all.

You knew some of Eren’s friends and he was pretty renowned around campus, so the day you met him you can believe that you were pleasantly surprised to say he lived up to the hype and more in terms of his gorgeous face. Surprisingly he took quite an interest in you, the pretty girl with Jean’s arm slinged around her shoulders? Oh he’s got to know more. When he got your number he was elated and as expected, it didn’t take more than a few text exchanges before getting you in his bed but something about this was different. Maybe he was just pussy-whipped but he genuinely, for the life of him, couldn’t stop fucking you.

“T-Too much.” You manage to get out through your moans, it’s practically incoherent but by the way you’re clawing at his back while he’s balls deep inside, hammering you in missionary while he presses light kisses to your collarbone even has him surprised. He pulls away from you, slightly, just slightly to your earlobe where he whispers, “You can take it for me, can’t you?”

And of course you do, but the strangest part is that even when Eren fills up the condom he can’t stop, pushing your legs against your chest and fucking you in all kinds of devious angles that have you falling apart in seconds. “Fuck I can’t stop, can’t believe I wasn’t in this pussy sooner.” He whines out against your ear, pushing the both of you into overstimulation countless times.

It’s safe to say you were spent after that but to his your surprise and his, the next day he’s calling you again, asking if you wanted to come over. There was one rule that Eren Jaeger lived by, never fuck the same girl twice. It was simply because he didn’t want to give them the wrong impression, he wasn’t looking for anything serious, anything along the lines of a relationship was an absolute no-go, so he thought it was best to avoid any remnants of that all together. But yet he’d somehow convinced himself there wasn’t any harm in going at it with you again, you were his best afterall.

By the third time he told himself it would be the last time, that was a lie. As hard as he tried to get you off of his mind it wasn’t possible, sex with any other girl felt mediocre after you which left him with only one choice: Running back to you.

“So what do you think about us making this a thing?” He stops halfway through unbuttoning your top, he’s got you trapped underneath him, pupils blown out from your makeout session from just seconds ago.

“A thing?” You raise your eyebrow, a light chuckle escapes your lips in amusement from such cryptic language and for some reason it pulls at Eren’s heartstrings. What was this overwhelming urge to hear you do it again suddenly?

“Yeah a thing.” He repeats, “Like we fuck, no strings attached.” He asks nervously, fumbling with the next button on your shirt a little nervously.

“Are you asking for friends with benefits?” Your expression contorts into one of disbelief, for a second he thinks he’s messed this up and he’s about to lose the best sex he’s had in his entire life until he hears another laugh escape from your lips. “Okay, no strings attached.”

And just like that his lips are back on yours again.

Turns out you really do become friends, you talk constantly on the phone which though, does usually lead to sexting over the following weeks you become closer and closer to one another. The next time Eren tries to get with a new girl his mind wanders back to you, your pretty face, your gorgeous body, your cute little laugh. And the moment he gets his cock out to fuck her it won’t get hard, like physically it can’t. That was definitely one of the most embarrassing experiences of his life, not only was his mind being stupid but now he couldn’t even control his dick when it wasn’t about to be inside of you. That day he left that girl very disappointed, a huge blow to his ego and perhaps reputation but for some reason he finds himself outside your door instead of his own dorm he was planning on going home to.

And surprise surprise, the moment he sees your face, peering up at him with your head cocked into the side in confusion as to why he’s showed up without a word at this time, oh he’s rock solid. Naturally, to make up for such an intrusion he fucks you crazy, enough that it takes twenty minutes for you to regain your ability to speak afterwards. He’s convinced he’s in a slump right now, soon enough he’ll get over this and be back to getting around with whatever women he wants and then he’ll be able to end your agreement once and for all. Yep, that was the plan.

“How are you gonna get home?” You raise an eyebrow, walking out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in your mouth. He can’t help but laugh at you, no one would’ve known how hard you were getting fucked just an hour prior. “You didn’t drive here right? So you left your car.”

“I can walk.” He pulls up his sweats back up, looking at you in a manner that he probably shouldn’t be.

“You can stay the night if you’d like.” You wave him off, wandering back into the bathroom to finish off. It takes him much longer than he should to respond but he does, eventually.

“Here?”

“What?” You laugh, cocking your head to the side. “You don’t like my place?”

“The beds a little small.” He jokes, peering down at the same thing you just fucked on. You roll your eyes, grabbing yourself some fresh pyjamas from your wardrobe. “Well I’m sorry that it wasn’t designed for a six foot four man.”

“Don’t do that, you’ll boost my ego.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Through all the jokes between the two of you his head is screaming at him that this isn’t a good idea, but when you show him your favourite blanket that he wouldn’t be allowed to use he’s convinced of two things. You’re way too cute to say no to, and the fact that you won’t share your things with him is a good sign. This isn’t intimate, it’s nothing but a good friend doing him a favour.

There just wasn’t one thing he’d anticipated, how much he would love cuddling you in your bed. This was detrimental for him because now he craved it after sex. The next time he was finished with you he opened his arms out once you’d cleaned yourself up, albeit awkwardly considering he’s never consciously done this before.

“What?” You look at him with confusion, your expression only deepens when he frowns, “You hungry or something? We can order food.”

“Yeah.. what are you up for?” He mutters out, closing his arms instantly. That was the last time he decided to not have the courage to ask you to cuddle because he felt strangely empty afterwards.

Obviously, you’re a bit surprised when the emerald eyed devil in all his six foot glory stutters when mumbling, “C-Can we cuddle?”

“Huh? You wanna cuddle?” You almost snort, Eren had obviously avoided anything on any lines of being intimate, the second the two of you had a conversation unrelated to sex and he realised that he would waste zero time throwing an inappropriate joke in. Just a reminder of what your relationship with eachother entailed, nothing more.

“Why are you saying it like that?” He pouts, rubbing his temple with two of his fingers lightly. You seemed surprised and he definitely felt embarrassed.

“I just didn’t expect it from you.” Your furrow your eyebrows, realising that oh, Eren Jaeger was actually being serious when he was asking you to cuddle right now. You seemed reluctant and that’s when he knew that you were in deep in this agreement as he was. Fuck, you might even be worse. You’ve never proposed to do anything intimate and now you even looked like you were about to flatly reject his proposition, how had he let it come to this. There was only one solution, pull out the big guns and guilt trip you out of his embarrassment, “I thought we were friends with benefits, don’t humans need physical touch to survive? That sounds like a benefit to me.” He folds over his arms, all whiny with pink littering his cheeks.

“Okay okay.” You scoff, rolling your eyes, knowing that he could go on until tomorrow if you didn’t stop him. You make your way over to him on the bed, allowing him to engulf you in his arms. He relishes in his victory with a smug expression on his face for a few minutes until you randomly say. “I can’t believe you like this.”

“What? You don’t?” There’s an overwhelming feeling of worry in his chest that he can’t quite discern, the feeling that you may not like him past being friends. But why did he care about that? He shouldn’t, he didn’t like you past being friends? Right? So why had he still not fucked another girl in months? Why was he finding it so hard to get it up without you? He pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind and does what he does best, makes it into a game. Now he was on a mission to get you to fall in love with cuddling, he had his arms around you every chance he could get. Especially after sex until it became a routine with the two of you and you couldn’t fall asleep in his arms otherwise. It was nothing more than mission accomplished he told himself.

At that point the dynamic of your friendship started to change, he couldn’t help the urge to want to see you more often which meant that he invited you out with his friends as much as he could. And he couldn’t regret something more because now Jean had you wrapped around his stupid finger, laughing at all his jokes while you brushed your hands on his chest. God, it made Eren sick.

What was worse it when Jean started sneaking into your sex life, that was his final straw.

Ren: Wanna come over? I’ve got your favourite cookies

You: Extremely tempting offer but im out right now, save them for me?

Ren: Where?

You: Jean’s place

Ren: You never told me you were going there lmao

You: ?

You: Was I supposed to? You don’t tell me when your with other girls

Except he was never with other girls these days. So the next time he saw you he asked straight up if you and Jean had sex. You gave him a strange glance but nodded reluctantly, not knowing if that was actually any of his business or not.

“Oh.” He responds, playing with his fingers, an excuse to do anything but focus his gaze on your pretty eyes.

“Is that.. a problem?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No.” He says so quickly that you’re almost shocked, like he’s so sure of his answer that he doesn’t even question it. “We’re not exclusive so do whatever you want.” He scoffs, it’s more of a reminder to him than it is to you but you can’t help but wince at his harsh tone. It’s just like Eren to cause an argument because he doesn’t have it in him to convey his real feelings. So the next thing you know he’s rambling about STDs, how you having multiple sexual partners isn’t safe for him and how the two of you should break off your agreement. None of it made any sense considering Jean was the only guy you’d fucked in months other than Eren and you knew nothing about what Eren got up to sexually either. Anyway, it was safe to say you stormed out of his place that day in tears and fuck did he feel so bad that he wanted to cry himself. Especially when he finds out that the first place you went after that was to Jean’s house. God he was so mad at himself.

After some time when he finally builds the courage, and albeit after a drink or two he turns up at your door step, it’s a heinous time to be banging down your door, he knows. Of course, your roommate isn’t happy about it either but when he’s telling you how sorry he is and how much he misses sex with you it only takes a few more sweet, yet filthy words to get you writhing under him once more in your bed.

“So sorry baby.” He reminds you as his hands pull your lace panties down a little, he really did miss this so much, missed you too, such a pretty sight. “Want me to show you how sorry I am?” He asks teasingly, running his fingertips up and down your sensitive thighs.

You nod slowly, your breath hitching as he sports you his signature grin. You haven’t seen that in a while and you know exactly what it means. He wastes no time sticking his finger inside of you, he’s memorised your body by now, the way you like to be touched, your little reactions to what he does, the exact angle that his finger needs to hit to get you to cum in under a minute. “Shit.” You fist his top, pulling him down into a messy kiss.

“You like that?” He asks against your lips, his fingers continue to work magic on you. “Did you miss me?” He asks, pulling away slightly while he begins to work into you much quicker than before, it’s enough to have you moaning under his touch. “Tell me how much you missed me.”

“Missed you so much.” You breathe out, he rewards you by pressing his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circles while his fingers pump in and out of you. You’re falling a part so quickly and you’re easily reminded that no one can make you feel as good as Eren can.

“Yeah?” He breathes, “You gonna show me? Gonna show me how much you missed me?”

You nod and he makes a negative sound, completely unsatisfied with your answer. “Gotta say it gorgeous.” He whispers against your earlobe, “You know how I am, wanna hear you speak.”

“I’ll show you.” You manage to say between moans, your name is on the tip of his tongue and the familiar feeling is in your stomach once more but he doesn’t let you cum, slowing down once he recognises the way your cunt feels when you’re about to spill over the edge.

“Not yet.” He laughs, “Tell me, how are you going to show me?”

“Gonna let you fuck me, I’ll let you fuck me as hard as you want.” You whine, grabbing onto his toned arms in protest, hoping that it will be enough to get him to let you cum.

“You promise?”

“I promise ‘Ren.” You nod, he pulls his fingers out of you and stuffs them in your mouth before putting them in his own. It’s filthy really, no one would ever believe the two of you were anything more than fuck buddies but you loved it, you loved that out of all people Eren could be your dirty little secret.

The next second he has his hands pressing your knees against your chest, you practically yelp in surprise when he pushes his cock inside of you without warning. “Then take this fucking dick like a good girl, can you do that for me?” He doesn’t give you any time to adjust to his pace, he’s pounding into your mercilessly enough so that lewd sounds are filling the air that can’t even be disguised with either of your moans. “Don’t need to prep you properly right? Considering you’ve been fucking other guys.”

You tighten around him at his words, he’s being so mean and you hate when Eren’s mean to you, except in the bedroom, God is it a turn-on. “Oh you like that? Fucking slut.” It was becoming more and more obvious that Eren was in fact mad about you and Jean, this entire thing was a jealousy fuck put simply and my was he putting on his best performance.

The kiss he pulls you into the next second is such a contrast to his dominating demeanour, it’s so gentle and sweet, the type that you give to someone you love and for some reason you can’t help but reciprocate it. He leaves light kisses on your neck, knowing that you would never let him mark you, trust him, he’s tried. The second his lips pull away from your body he’s back to being mean again, picking up the pace even more than before. “Eren— fuck.” You can’t even get out your words.

“Feels good?” He asks, usually he doesn’t like it when you only give him a nod but he knows that right now he’s fucking you absolutely stupid and there’s nothing else you can do. “Who else can make you feel this good huh?” He slows down his strokes, wanting a genuine answer from you as he wraps his hand around your throat. “Tell me, who else?”

“No one.” You whine as tears prick your eyes, he has no mercy for you, not a care in the world as the headboard of your bed slams against your wall. You’d have to apologise to your roommate later. “That’s right, no one.” His thumb brushes your cheek lighty. “So whose pussy is this?”

“Yours!”

“Correct, mine.” He grins smugly, he knows it doesn’t really count considering he can get you to say anything as long as he’s balls deep inside but still, for some reason the sentiment means a lot to him. "You're being so good for me, you wanna cum?"

"Y-Yes please." His expression darkens for a second and he's worried that the time away between the two of you has meant that you'd forgotten the rules of the bedroom.

"Yes please, what?"

"Yes please daddy." You correct yourself instantly and he grins with satisfaction, being nice enough to press his thumb against your clit one more. Rubbing it in soft circles while he bucks into you faster until you're clamping down against him.

“Fuck missed this pussy so much, missed you so much." He says in pure ectcasy as he throws his head back. And for someone who was banging on about safe sex the last time you saw him it's surprising that he had zero reserves about fucking you raw and then cumming inside.

He releases spurts of cum into you and it's almost shocking how much he fills you up, when you were first fondling with his balls tonight you told him how heavy they felt while grinding on his thigh. You'd figured he hadn't fucked anyone in a while, now you could confirm that with the way white thickness was trailing out of you. For the first time, Eren does all the things he never used to before and you can't help but think it's so gentleman-like. The way he rushes to clean you up, not leaving you to do it yourself, the bath he runs for the two of you, the way he changes your bedsheets and for once how he isn't running off home the second he's nutted. Instead he has you in his arms and even more shockingly stays the night.

One thing he hadn't anticipated with all your time away was how much your relationship with Jean had progressed. It was only when he woke up the next morning, seeing you in your pretty little dress and face full of makeup that he wanted to ruin so badly that he realised. "Oh finally, you're awake." You spin your legs in his direction from the chair you sat on opposite your vanity table.

"Nice treat to wake up to." His eyes trail your body shamelessly, and his hoarse morning voice only has your blood rushing south. Eren looks gorgeous in the mornings too, he always does.

But there was something about his hair down against the pillow, the light pink littering his cheeks when he's realised that he's engaged in something intimate last night, his pretty eyelashes when he gazes at you. And don't get started on the way half of his abs are visible through the bedsheets considering he's so adamant on sleeping shirtless.

"You going somewhere?" He asks, propping himself up a little with his elbows. "I thought that maybe we could grab breakfast or something." He continues with a little frown on your face. Eren has never proposed grabbing breakfast before, like ever.

"Sorry." You say, grabbing your bag, double checking that you had everything you needed.

Your perfume fills his nose and he has to bite back a smile, he's so glad to be back. "I've got a date but feel free to help yourself to breakfast here."

"A date?" He practically erases the last part of ot your sentence from his mind, "With who?" He raises an eyebrow, fully sitting up now.

"Jean." You give him a look that reminds him to watch his words considering how he spoke to you the last time he came up.

"Oh.." It felt like that was the only thing Eren knew how to say when it came to you with another man, he was speechless. The time away made him realise he liked you, of course he fucking liked you. What he hadn't yet realised is that he loved you, all those months together meant that you were the girl that had captured his heart and now knowing after last night you'd be off with Jean?

Oh he felt sick. "So you guys are getting pretty serious then?"

"I mean I guess." You shrug, "But we're not exclusive yet."

"So what does that mean for us?" He asks, you've never seen such hurt in Eren's eyes the way you were seeing it right now. The words were almost taken from your mouth but you were doing what was best for you. When you'd first started your arrangement with Eren you were warned by your you were warned by your friends about him. You didn't listen, the sex was too great for you to bother. Over time you realised you'd started developing feels for him and if there was one thing about Eren Jaeger it was that he was allergic to the word intimacy. You'd never have what you truly wanted out of him. So when Jean came around with all the affection in the world your friends convinced you that was what you deserved so naturally, you made an effort.

"Us?" You raise an eyebrow, "Well I guess we'd have to stop what we're doing. obviously." You point between the two of you, hopeful that he wasn't about to suggest cheating if you and Jean did get together.

"Right." He responds plainly, it's extremely blunt, why wouldn't it be? He's got nothing else to say. "We can still be friends though."

Oh that one really hurt. "Yeah.. friends."

"Look I'm already really late, l've got to go but l'll see you later okay?" You don't give him anytime to respond before rushing out of the door, the air was so suffocating in there and you could feel the awkward unspoken tension that you didn't have it in you to face. It takes a lot considering his heart has just been broken but eventually Eren gathers the strength to stand up, waltzing into your kitchen for said breakfast to see you roommate Sasha giving him a scowl. He wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t like him or if it was because the two of you were too loud last night. Either way he wasn’t interested in that, he was much more fixated on the freshly bloomed vase of flowers that were now on your kitchen island that he’d never seen before. He figured they were Sasha’s, he knew she had a boyfriend because you’d told him.

“Nice, did Niccolo get these for you?” He raises an eyebrow, hoping that it would be enough to dissipate the awkward silence between the two of you.

“Actually…” She turns around with a smug expression, “Jean got them for y/n.” She shrugs, going back to whatever cereal she was pouring. Fuck, he was beginning to doubt himself. Jean seemed like the perfect guy for you, he’s been taking you out on dates, getting you flowers and now he knew the two of you were sleeping together, it was only a matter of time.

The next time he texts you is a few days later, he makes the highest effort possible to not bring any form of sexual speak into the conversation. He was determined to show you how much he cared about solely you and your day. Imagine his surprise when you told him that you and Jean had a date planned tomorrow.

You: Honestly I think he’s finally going to ask me to be his girlfriend

Ren: About time

You: Tell me about it

Ren: If that was me I wouldn’t have ever waited that long

You: Stop being a flirt

Ren: Come on, you know me

You: Yeah I do

You: Kinda gonna miss you ig

Ren: Kinda?

You: Yeah just a little

Ren: I’ll miss you less

You: Just a couple days ago you were in bed whining about how you missed me so much though?

Ren: Low blow

You: Come on, you know me

Ren: Not funny when you do it

You: Shut up you love it

Ren: Yeah unfortunately I do

You: Hey wanna come over? One last time for old times sake

Ren: Fucking you before you become someones girlfriend? How romantic

You: Is that a yes?

Ren: You know it is

And now that he was back in your bedroom, legs spread out while you bounced on his cock because he was adamant on the fact that he did all the work 90% of the time during your FWB relationship, he realised how much he simply cannot let you go. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact your pussy had his head going foggy but once he felt you gripping around his cock, he could only tilt his head back while using his hands to lift your body weight up and down his shaft. The moment he was cumming he slipped into confessions that he probably shouldn’t have, “Fuck baby I don’t want you to leave me, I love you, I love you so fucking much you don’t even know.” He moans against your ear while filling you up.

You can hardly process his words until you’ve come down from your high and you’ve got your arms around his neck while he rubs your back soothingly. You’re so out of breath from riding but he presses a kiss to your temple and it’s enough to calm you down, “You did such a good job, you always do.”

Seconds later your eyes widen, remembering what he just said. You pull away from him, a shocked expression on his face as your eyes search his for any indication that he’s realised what he’s said. “You what?”

He pouts, “Don’t make me repeat it please, it took everything in me to admit it already.”

“Adm— You mean that? Like actually?”

“Of course I do.” He sighs, running one hand up and down your waist slowly while the other cups your face. “I know I’ve been a dick for a long time and I never really had the courage to say anything but I like you more than you know. Fuck that, I love you, everything about you. The way you laugh when I tell you the stupidest joke, your pretty face and these eyes when you’re about to scold me for something, every inch of your body that you’ve let me explore, all these little beauty marks that you have, especially this one here.” He places his hand on the small of your back.

“I have a beauty mark there?” You try to turn around but of course, you can’t see it.

“Yeah you do.” He laughs, “And it’s perfect, just like you.” For a moment he pauses with a sigh, “I know Jean is going to ask you to be his girlfriend tomorrow but—“ He gulps, “But I don’t want you to be his girlfriend! You said you were mine and I don’t want things between us to end, I don’t want you to leave me!” He begins whining.

You fall into his chest and for a moment he thinks he’s said the wrong thing before you start— laughing? “What?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I would’ve never expected you to say something so.. pathetic.” You shake your head with a laugh, “That’s so like you.” You whisper.

“I’m pouring out my heart here.” He deadpans.

“Sorry.” You shake your head, “Please continue, I love hearing it.” You say, placing a light kiss on his lips.

“If you feel anything for me..” He begins again nervously, “Anything at all then don’t be with Jean, I’ll treat you so much better and we can do all the things you want like go on dates and I’ll get you flowers—“

“What are you suggesting?” You finally ask.

“I have a proposition.” He smiles, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Another one?” You laugh.

“Yeah, how about we make this a thing?” He points between the two of you before resting his hands on your waist once again.

“A thing?”

"Yeah, me and you, boyfriend and girlfriend, a thing."

Thank you for reading, if you enjoyed likes and reblogs are appreciated & requests for Eren Jaeger are open for more <3

#eren x reader #anime #eren jeager x reader #eren x fem!reader #attack on titan eren #eren jeager smut #eren smut #eren x you #erenjaeger #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren aot #eren x y/n #eren headcanons #eren #eren yeager #jean krischtein #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean kirschtein fluff #attack on titan

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crguang · 1 month

Note

Hi!! May I request NSFW with these prompts. I prefer if you write them with sub afab!reader in mind cuz I'm just a big sub and bottom for these gorgeous women <3 kafhimeswan makes my heart swoon ♥

1. gp!Kafka

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” (#43)

2. Black Swan with this prompt makes me akbdhsbsjsbs hehe “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”(#86)

3. Himeko makes me yearn!! “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.” (#64)

btw I always come back to your kafka fics and your black swan 9k+ smutshot, I just can't get them out of my head, I love how you write them!!!

ive been wanting to do this one as soon as you sent it and finally got the time, hehe. save me kafhimeswan, save me… these prompts were amazing, ty for the kind words too!

cw: smut, fem!subreader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration (kafka), fingering and mirror sex (swan), scissoring (himeko)

The two of you are a tangle of limbs and heated touches, needy sighs and broken moans as your lips lock in sloppy kisses and your hands travel down each other’s bodies in messy attempts at undressing the other completely. Kafka has an advantage since you’re only wearing jeans and a t-shirt for this infiltration mission; she lifts the shirt off your head and absentmindedly throws it across the room, and her mouth is back on yours the moment it’s taken off. Her nimble hands make quick work of the buttons on your pants while you fumble with the harness over her chest. She chuckles into your mouth, a low, muffled sound of amusement, and one of your hands leaves her torso to tangle in her hair, gripping tight. Her head tilts back with the movement, a sharp exhale through her nose the only indication of how aroused the gesture made her. The smug smile on her face shows her pearly white teeth. Her eyes, though lidded, threaten to swallow you whole.

“Eager?” She asks, but she doesn’t need an answer.

Kafka guides you back into the wall with a firm hold on your hips, pinning you between the cool drywall and the warmth of her body pressing against yours. You feel her breath on your lips and her chest into yours. She lifts a hand to tilt your head further up, giving her better access to steal the air from your lungs with another heady kiss. Her tongue explores the inside of your mouth, swirling around your own and wetting your lips in the process. Your mind fogs up and desire takes over your senses. You want her closer despite there being little to no space for it, and your fingers hook under the waistband of her shorts to pull her further into you. Kafka doesn’t bother taking off your bra, she slips a hand under the material and grabs a handful of your breast, delighting in the noise of pleasure she draws from you. She squeezes and fondles, her need apparent in her lack of gentleness. Your hips rock into hers and the pleased hum that rumbles from her throat only turns you on more.

You’re already wet, you can feel the fabric of your underwear cling to your cunt as Kafka kisses you languidly and plays with your hardening nipple. Your fingers wander down her shorts to palm her over the clothing. The sensation of her growing bulge under your hand combined with her hot mouth assaulting yours makes your head spin. You need her so badly, you’re tempted to beg her to fuck you stupid.

Her lips trail down your jaw and end where your neck meets your shoulder, parting to suck the skin until it darkens, and her tongue darts out to soothe it afterwards. Her teeth leave love bites across your shoulder, prettily marking you up in a way that would take half an hour to cover up. Her fingers harshly twist your nipple, prompting a surprised moan from you, and you grip her clothed cock over her shorts in retaliation to which she simply hums dazedly.

“If we had more time I would punish you for that,” her voice speaks of future promises, and she raises her head to gaze down at you, the dim light darkening her irises. “That’ll be for later. Luckily for you, there’s only half an hour before the IPC barges in here, so…”

Kafka pulls her shirt out of her leather shorts and expertly unclasps their buttons. You watch her hands push the clothing past her hips and down to her ankles, busying yourself with doing the same thing to your jeans. Your mouth waters at the outline of her thick cock under her boxers. You swallow a couple of times, not dwelling on your disappointment at the fact that you won’t have the time to properly take it into your mouth. Kafka’s hands are on you again, squeezing your hips as she presses against you and bucks into your covered cunt. Her lips find yours hungrily with a pace even you have trouble following. She takes, takes, takes what she wants without ceremony; she pulls down your underwear so it hangs around your ankles and spreads your thighs as far as they can go using one hand, never letting go of your mouth and swallowing the breathless whimpers that escape it.

She betrays her own need with how urgently she sinks two fingers between your labia and smears your slick over your pussy. Her middle finger dips past your dripping entrance, drawing another weak, broken moan from you, but it withdraws a few seconds later. You don’t have time to whine for her to fill you, Kafka separates from your mouth and slides her underwear down her legs, freeing her already leaking cock. You don’t have the time to admire her either, she’s on a mission (well, two) and instantly grinds her cock into your cunt. Your eyes fall shut at the sensation of her shaft sliding between your pussy lips, coating her length in your slick. It brushes the tip of your clit and you have to hold on to the back of her shirt to stay upright, thighs trembling from the pleasure.

Your needy moans and quiet mewls drive Kafka crazy. Despite the need to keep a clear mind, her desire to take you right there burns hot in her stomach and makes her throb almost painfully. She aligns her cock with your entrance, groaning low as she sinks the head into your warm cunt. Your forehead falls on her shoulder, lips parted to let out another whine, and your fingers’ tight grip on her shirt wrinkles the fabric, pulling her even closer.

“Mm… Slowly, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Kafka inches into you slowly enough to allow you some time to adjust to being filled. Her fingertips dig into the skin of your hips. It takes some effort to pause and let you catch your breath once she’s fully inside you. She lifts your thighs and wraps it around her waist to give herself more room to thrust deep into your pussy, not bothering to conceal the drawn out groans that spill from her lips.

“Mmm…” Kafka’s lazy moans sound near your ear, breath heavy as she fills you with her cock. Her pace is irregular, only seeking pleasure from you, and it takes all of your strength to keep yourself standing against the wall.

It feels so good, you feel so full, you barely register your own pitiful whimpers.

“F-Fu—Hah… Please…” You don’t know what you’re begging for; her throbbing head hitting that sensitive spot deep inside you, the release building in your stomach, the need for her to paint your walls white like icing on a wedding cake…

You can’t think, can only babble broken sentences as she drives into you and pleasure rocks through your body in electrifying little jolts. You don’t feel the saliva at the corner of your lips from how long your mouth has stayed open. There’s that familiar, intoxicating feeling of your guts tightening before you cream on Kafka’s cock with a muffled cry into her shoulder. Her hips stutter, your cunt clenching tight around her and slowing her pace, though the intensity of her thrusts only increases with the need to come herself. She bucks into you roughly, taking your breath away. You see the birth of a star behind your eyelids. Kafka comes suddenly and bottoms out inside you, emptying herself into you in hot spurts, a curse on her lips.

You’re a bit dizzy when you come down from your high, biting your lip as she slips out of you. You know you have a mission to complete, but your legs have turned into mush and Kafka has to support your standing weight with an arm around your back. You’re breathing heavily, and the minutes pass where your mind begins to sharpen back to its original state. Kafka has a pleased smile on her face, gently letting go of you to dress herself, and you sigh happily while you do the same.

You hear thumping footsteps from the floors below.

“Kafka, where’d you put my shirt?”

“…Mm?”

“…Are you fucking serious?!”

Your eyelids lower, your mind in a daze so blissful you can’t fully register the scene happening through the standing mirror right in front of you. Dried fruit and smoky notes fill the room with the scent of her and unscarred hands brush along the muscles of your arms; the unnatural warmth of her immaterial body pressed into your back cages you in, a dizzying embrace you wish you could live in until her duty calls her away. She is at once in front of you, staring back at you with dim, lustful eyes, and she is around you, touching you like she’s savoring the feel of you under her fingertips. Her presence appears larger than life and you are sprawled in the center of her palm, exposed to her hungry gaze and unable to hide even the deepest parts of you. You find it difficult to meet the galaxy reflected in her eyes, its intensity is only amplified by the fact that she undressed you mere moments ago and you are now stripped to your underwear and completely at her mercy. Round nails painted to match the colorful stained glass jewelry over her collarbones leave proof of their passage in the form of goosebumps that rise on your skin as they trail across your chest, following the edges of your bra. She teases you, revels in your flustered expression and the knowledge that she has reduced you to a puppet on her strings.

You watch as her hand travels under the pad of your bra and replaces it with her palm, possessively cupping one breast. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes flutter shut for only a second; slender fingers under your chin firmly guide you back to face the mirror and you bite back a needy noise when your nipple is pinched between two digits.

“Forgotten already?” Black Swan’s low, sultry voice sounds from behind your ear, amused and playful. “Eyes on me, sweet girl…”

You comply and meet her gaze through the mirror, embarrassment washing over you at the sight of her pleased smile and the position you’re in. Your stiff nipples are visible beneath your bra, your thighs are already spread in anticipation for her touch without her saying a word, and in this moment, she could do anything to you and you would take with a desperate moan. Her fingers dig slightly into your jaw, keeping you from moving your head to evade her heated stare a second time. You shift a little, flustered, because the hand around your breast has stopped moving and your body longs for her skillful ministrations.

“You’re squirming…” You feel her warm breath on the back of your ear and it sends a shiver down your spine. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

Your throat is dry, and you can’t manage a reply. You swallow once, unable to be anything but honest when she looks at you this way, as if she already held every answer you could ever provide. You feel her at the edge of your consciousness, her presence made purposely obvious to your senses. She is everywhere and she wants you to be aware of it.

“How adorable,” Black Swan’s hand leaves your face and traces the plane of your bare stomach. Her lips stretch in a wider smile, one she means innocent but that has an edge of desire she can’t contain. “Forgive me, darling, but I cannot resist. You are a painting.”

The compliment doesn’t surprise you, she repeats it quite often, but her sincerity still makes you bashful. Black Swan chuckles at your reaction and presses a kiss to your shoulder. Her fingertips slither further down, toying with the waistband of your underwear, and you suck in an inaudible breath, anticipation taut in your belly. You watch each of her movements through the reflecting glass like she wants you to; embarrassment and arousal merge together inside of you as her middle finger sinks between your lips and leisurely rubs your covered slit, feeling the wetness through the thin fabric. You feel Black Swan’s aroused hum from where her lips are still pressed to your skin. She proves her own eagerness by slipping her hand into your panties and running two of her fingers down your slit, properly coating them in your slick. You can’t conceal a quiet moan when she circles your pulsing clit with a digit and applies delicious pressure to the sensitive bud. The hand on your chest resumes its gentle massage. All the while, her eyes, like glowing suns against the pitch black of the firmament, drink in every inch of your body under her touch and sears the moment in a corner of her mind she will share with no one else.

Black Swan touches you with the expertise of someone who’s learned you from the inside. She draws sharp gasps and breathless moans and lustful sighs out of you as if she were a conductor and you her favored symphony. Her lips follow a path to the crook of your neck, prompting you to tilt your head, and plant hot kisses on your skin. She toys with your clit using two fingers and repeats each ministration with the ones on your nipple. Your stomach tightens, pleasure tingles down to the tip of your toes, and your own fingers grip her thighs to keep yourself upright, digging into the soft flesh. You don’t last long. Your clit throbs as you come with a long moan, eyes screwing shut with the intensity of the pleasure assaulting you, and your thighs close together, trapping her hand between them. She’s forced to stop the sweet torture of your pussy but continues to pinch and twist your stiff nipple under your bra to prolong the sensations.

Black Swan’s mouth wanders up the side of your neck to your ear. She sucks the lobe between her lips, and your chest heaves, body shuddering as your orgasm slowly subsides.

“How ravishing you are…”

Your lashes flutter at her soft words, blinking to look back at her through the mirror. In her eyes is a bottomless hunger that you’ve become familiar with over time, it is gaping and consuming, and she doesn't have to utter another word for you to understand that she will indeed ravish you.

Himeko is a vision above you, straddled on your lap with her knees on each side of your frame, forcing her plush thighs open; she towers over you as a fragment of your most yearnful dreams, long vivid hair cascading down her back like the most beautiful waterfall and creamy skin so soft to the touch it almost feels blasphemous to sully with your hands. Her bare body is a creation of a higher being, but your disbelieving eyes are drawn to the stars in her eyes when she gazes down at you like you are worthy to stand by her side. She looks at you the same way you stare up at her, with undeniable devotion. It is something you often have difficulty coming to terms with because how can someone so beautiful choose to wake up next to you every morning? Your lips are parted and her gaze is tender, an adept hand brushing up between the valley of your breasts.

Himeko leans forward until her chest is flushed to yours and cups your cheeks in her warm hands, staring into your eyes with a smile in hers.

“Is it not obvious how much I adore you?” Her muttered words are warm against your lips, her golden irises as bright as an afternoon sun.

It is. Himeko loves you in a way that is so evident, to you and everyone with eyes to see and ears to hear. She always handles you so carefully, not because she’s afraid you’ll break with a firmer touch but because this is how she loves. It’s in a reassuring hand on your lower back when you’re nervous and in gentle kisses up your neck when she wants to show you just how much she reveres you. It’s in how deeply she listens when you speak and the words of affirmation that easily spill from her lips. Her feelings are incontestable, she makes sure of it, but your treacherous mind still can’t fully comprehend why. Even now, beneath her weight, you feel she could have anyone she desires and is instead here with you. It’s baffling.

“Of course,” you reply just as quietly, lifting a hand to brush red strands out of her face, “it simply feels… nonsensical, at times.”

Himeko’s thumb brushes the skin under your eye. “You idolize me too much.”

“It’s impossible not to.”

She fondly shakes her head but her small smile is radiant. She traces your features with a finger, over your brows and along the bridge of your nose, then follows the curve of your upper lip. Himeko watches the movement of it on your face before meeting your eyes once again.

“You’re so beautiful. How could I be anything but in love with you?”

You don’t answer her soft question, averting your gaze for a second. Her head bends to press a kiss on the corner of your mouth before capturing your lips with hers. Her kiss is gentle yet firm, tangible proof of her desire for you, and you feel your body heat up under her for the second time tonight. Her tongue swipes over your bottom lip then slips into your mouth to entangle with yours. You’re aware of the warmth of her thighs caging your hips and the remnants of the pleasure you ripped out of her earlier, a mix of slick and cum smearing over your lower belly from where she is pressed against you. Your hands take hold of her waist, squeezing once. Himeko’s uneven breath fans across your lips when she withdraws from you. Bodies flushed together, you can feel each shiver that runs through her as her need for you builds, the heat between her thighs growing wetter with every kiss she takes from you.

“You are worth… all of my attention...” she breathes out between each one, “all… of my devotion… so sweet…”

Himeko kisses your lips, your jaw, up your cheek and down to your mouth again like she can’t get enough. Your lashes flutter under her affection, and you readily welcome her mouth on yours, your cunt throbbing with arousal. Her hips begin to roll into you, seeking sweet friction, and she swallows the moan that leaves you. She smears her cum on your skin with every rhythmic motion of her body, but it isn’t enough for either of you. Himeko lifts her head and the thin string of saliva connecting your lips breaks on her chin as she straightens up above you, the embers of her eyes alight with both lust and a determination to prove that her heart belongs to you.

Her chest rises and falls, perky pink nipples adding a soft color to the canvas of her skin. She shifts, settling between our thighs with one leg over yours, and holds it up over her shoulder with a hand.

“I want to feel you…”

Himeko lowers herself on you, slick pussy sliding over yours in a messy kiss, and she makes a low noise that is half moan and half groan at the contact. She looks so pretty with her lidded eyes and parted lips, your breathing stutters as she takes what she needs from you and bucks her hips further into your cunt. A quiet moan escapes you and your fingers grab a fistful of the sheets beneath you. You follow her pace, encouraged by her sounds of pleasure and the feeling of her clit bumping into yours.

“Aeons… Mmnh…” Himeko’s broken sentences are breathless and underlined with pretty moans. She lifts her free hand to cup her breast, long hair draped over her back when her head tilts back.

She feels so good against you, your combined wetness makes it easy to grind into her pussy in search of friction. You’re unable to look away from the flush across her chest, her rosy cheeks and the shine on her lips, greedily taking in the sight of her as if you’ll wake up any moment and find her gone from your bed. Your body is hot, sweat begins to cling to your brow, but you can’t focus on anything but how gorgeous Himeko is and how good her cunt feels like this. She spreads her cum over you, warm and slick. She doesn’t contain the noises that tumble from her mouth, aroused sighs and low hums, and the frequency of them tells you that she’s close to coming. You feel your own orgasm build in your lower belly, begging to burst.

“H-Hime—” you stammer pathetically, words interrupted by a needy whine.

Himeko’s gaze connects with yours at the sound of her name uttered so breathlessly. She understands what you mean to say, she’s teetering on the edge herself, and she manages a quiet command.

“Come with me, sweetheart.”

A quiver runs through your thighs as your release washes over you, and Himeko lets out a high-pitched moan at the same time, fingers closing around her nipple. She comes with you, bucking her hips into your pussy to ride her high, her head tilted to the ceiling. Your cum mixes with hers, dripping down your cunt and ruining the sheets below you. You try to steady your thundering heart, a forearm over your forehead. You feel Himeko’s little shivers and hear her heavy breaths before she finally separates from you and resumes her earlier position on top of you. Her nose burrows into your neck, breasts pressed to your torso, and you wrap an arm around her frame to hold her against you.

It takes a moment before she can speak properly again.

“I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.” The confession is warm against your pulse, directly spoken over your heartbeat. “I’ll prove it as many times as I have to.”

You don’t tell her that you already believe her.

#sat’s follower event #hsr smut #hsr x reader #kafka x reader #kafka smut #himeko x reader #himeko smut #black swan smut #black swan x reader #hsr black swan x reader

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propertyofwicked · 6 months

Text

SECRETS part 6 - LN

warnings: angst, lots of swearing angry max, angry lando, angry y/n - everyone's mad. potentially a happy ending? (u have to read to find out :) ), cheeky bit of fluff

previous part -> next part

masterlist the playlist

“you fucking lied right to my face, the both of you!” max said, raising his voice and breaking the silence in his living room, “i asked you a year ago and you both lied to me.”

y/n and lando quickly realised that arriving together to talk to max was quite possibly a mistake. the drive to max’s house had started off well, the music flowing through the speakers and easy conversation between the two helped. yet, the closer they got, the more anxious they both started to feel.

they were all in the living room, P had scuttered off to the kitchen, busying herself with baking. max was directing every profanity he could think of towards both lando and his sister, their mother would be horrified to learn max even knew these words let alone the fact he was screaming them at her youngest daughter, y/n thought to herself.

it’s her nature to defend herself, but for the first time in her life, she sat silently, twisting her rings around her fingers. max was so angry, she figured he wouldn’t listen to anything she had to say anyways at this moment in time. so she sat silently, taking the abuse.

“have you slept together?” max suddenly asked, his voice finally calm. y/n’s face grew red, lando stuttering.

“so that’s a yes, she who prides herself on being honest and can’t even give me a straight answer,” he snorts.

“i’m an adult, max. stop being so immature and overbearing,” y/n finally spoke up, her tone bold even though she wanted to do nothing more than cry, “what does it even matter? you’re going to get mad either way.”

“of course i’m mad! you,” he stated, pointing a finger at lando, “have been fucking my sister behind my back.”

“stop saying that shit - it’s not like that.”

“no? then what is it like?” max shouted back, his anger once again bubbling to the surface.

“I LOVE HER! ok, i love her,” lando said, finally raising his voice. the room fell silent. even the blender in the kitchen stopped, letting everyone know P was listening in.

“you love me?” y/n asked softly, turning to face lando. he looked almost scared. he chose to ignore her, moving his head up to stare into max’s eyes.

“max, i love her. i think i always have. i would do anything i could for her,” lando said, his voice returning to his normal tone. max said nothing, he simply turned on his heel and left the room.

“i tried angel,” lando said to the girl next to him, his arm stretching out to rub her thigh softly.

“i know you did,” she replied sadly, “so - you love me?”

“of course i do,” he replied, smiling at her.

“don’t take my lack of reciprocation as a rejection. i just uh- i just need time,” she said, panicking slightly and fumbling her words.

“i don’t expect you to say anything back, my love. we’ll sort this out, i promise.”

she wants to believe him, she really does, but max leaving the room was a bad sign.

“you can’t promise me that,” she says, his hands coming to cup her face and press a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“i will do everything i can to sort things out with max,” he says kissing her head again, before pushing himself off the sofa to follow max’s footsteps out of the room.

y/n sat in the silence, thinking only of the way max’s face fell in a mix of anger and betrayal before he stormed out of the room. too much had happened in the past 4 days, and she hadn’t given herself time to process a single part of it. the tears started flowing, and she feared they would never stop as she started coughing from the intensity of her sobs. P must’ve heard her from the kitchen, as not long after she’d started crying, P was sat next to y/n, pulling her body down to lay her head on her lap, her hand coming to stroke her back softly.

“he’ll come around y/n. he loves you, he can’t stay mad at you forever.”

“he can, and he will,” y/n responds, another wave of tears rolling sideways down her face, landing on P’s trousers.

meanwhile, max was in his room, pacing out of pure anger.

“mate i-,” lando said as he walked in the room.

“no, i dont wanna hear it. you promised me you would never d-” he interupts.

“i know! i know what i said. and i regret it.”

“you regret promising me you’d never defile my sister?”

“i regret not telling you how i felt about her. i regret making that stupid promise when it’s all i wanted.”

“all you wanted was to defile my sister? great argument lando, thanks for stopping by. you can fuck off now.”

“all i wanted was to love your sister. to give her the fucking world if she’d let me.”

“what?”

“i love her. she’s intelligent, she’s strong willed, she’s confident in herself, and i think she’s the most beautiful woman i’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting,” he says, barely stopping to breathe, but max was listening - finally. the two friends looked at each other, both of them slightly shaking under the pressure.

“you really love her?” max asks after a few moments of silence, his voice the lowest it had been for hours.

“i do.”

“this isn’t just for a shag?”

“are you joking?”

“just answer the fucking question.”

“no, it’s not just for a shag. i want to spend to rest of my life with her.”

“ok.”

“ok?” lando repeated, confused.

“i’m not ok with this, but i will be eventually. so long as you don’t hurt her.”

“i think you should be more worried about her hurting me,” lando joked in attempt to ease the awkwardness, to his relief max smiled slightly.

“if she hurt you, id be the proudest ive ever been,” he jokes back, earning a small snort from lando.

lando backs himself towards the door, gripping the handle.

“you coming?” he asks max, cocking his head to the side slightly in questioning.

“nah i just need a few minutes to sort myself out.”

“alright mate. i think you need to speak to y/n.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” max quips back, lando holding his hands up in defence before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

when lando re-entered the living room, he saw y/n laying on P’s lap, crying softly, his entrance causing both girls to look up at him. he breathed out a sigh before announcing -

“i think it’s all gonna be ok.”

“i’m going to go an talk to him,” y/n said boldly, sitting up and wiping any remaining tears from her eyes, still trying to regain her regular breathing.

“are you sure that’s a good idea?” lando asked, voice lace with genuine concern.

“i don’t care. i need to let him know that this is not acceptable,” and with that, she left the room. lando and P looked at each other, their eyes both conveying a sense of dread for the impending fall out.

“max?” she asked, knocking on his door.

“go away.”

“no,” she said, pushing the door fully open and sauntering into the room.

“y/n i-”

“no, you’ve done your shouting. it’s my time to talk,” y/n tone was harsh, but it worked. max sat back in the chair, silently, allowing her to finally speak her mind.

“i didn’t do this out of disrespect for you,” she prefaced, breathing in a deep breath before continuing, “i didn’t expect this to happen. i didn’t think any of this was going to happen.”

“i know.”

“but that does not give you any right to decided what or who i do,” she declares, max grimacing slightly at her choice of words, “you made him promise to stay away from me! that’s not on, max. he was my friend too and even if anything else was happening you had absolutely no right to make that decision for me.”

he says nothing, simply nodding at his sister as he digests her words.

“you owe me an apology. for thinking you can control my life and for the way you have behaved in the last 3 days. it’s not the fucking eighteen hundreds, you cannot take this ‘alpha male’ role in my life and make decisions about who i date,” she adds, using her fingers to make quotation marks.

“i know that now,” he responds, guilt laced in his voice.

“what do you mean you ‘know that now’? you should have always known that. you wouldn’t tell sam or theo who they can date, would you?” she asks.

“no, i wouldn’t,” again, responding with a sad sigh, “i’m sorry y/n.”

“you better be. and you better start behaving like you are.”

“i will.”

“starting with buying me a new car,” she jokes, finally uncrossing her arms and smiling softly at him.

“catch yourself on,” he laughs back.

“it’s ok, god loves a trier - besides, i’m pretty sure lando offered to buy me one if he got podium.”

“on second thought, maybe i will buy you a new car.”

the two laughed together, an air of awkwardness still hanging between them. finally, he pushed himself off his chair, walking over to her and embracing her in a tight hug.

“im sorry y/n, im so sorry,” he mumbled into her ear.

“it’s ok max, i don’t think id be too impressed if you started fucking my friends either.”

“ew dont - dont talk about sex or you having it,” he shudders, “in my brain, you’re still 7 and shaving the heads of your barbies.”

“fine.”

“will you do me a favour?” he asks, sheepishly.

“depends.”

“can you and, him, you know, tone it down in front of me. just for a bit? just till i get used to it?”

“i didn’t intend on jumping his bones in front of you anyways, if that’s what you mean?” she jokes.

“y/n,” he groans in feigned annoyance.

“i’m sorry i’m sorry,” she apologises, holding her hands up in defence, the exact same way lando had earlier.

“you and him are probably a good match. you have the same personality. i think i just never wanted to admit it.”

“max fewtrell, stubborn? i never would’ve guessed.”

“i think it’s genetic.”

★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶

tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes @secretgal66 @ririyulife @littlehoneyfreak @leclercdream @mehrmonga @eviethetheatrefreak @thatoneembarrasingmoment @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @formula1mount @lottef1 @rayna-s @5starl1ght @cthgee @thesiduation @urfavsgf @littlehoneyfreak

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #maxfewtrell #fewtrell!sister

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copper-16 · 4 months

Text

The Beginning

The decision to have a baby, as well as how the Barcelona girls find out about Ingrid's pregnancy (confusion ensues, as it always does).

(a/n: repeat after me: thank you @lucawrites11 for sending me the picture of Mapi with a child so I could write this and not end up down an internet rabbit hole of trying to find a picture of Mapi with a child! This was highly requested, so I hope you guys enjoy it!)

They were sitting together on the couch watching a movie when Ingrid brings it up, less because she had intentionally thought through doing so and more because the words tumble out of her.

“I want a baby with you,” she blurts out, her eyes widening at her own candor. Mapi seems equally as shocked, fumbling to get the remote and turn the movie off, the conversation at hand exponentially more interesting than whatever they were watching.

“I’m sorry! I don’t…I don’t know why I said that,” the Norwegian shakes her head, but Mapi stops her as she moves closer, her focus now solely on Ingrid.

“No, no, clearly you did. Where is your mind?” The Spaniard asked thoughtfully, because she could tell this was something Ingrid had been thinking about.

All week, ever since they had a big win in the Champions League last Saturday, the dark haired woman had been a little bit quiet. Not in a bad way necessarily, but Mapi could tell that something was on her wife’s mind. Something was bothering her, but she had simply been waiting for Ingrid to come to her before she did something about it.

“We have a plan,” Ingrid started nervously, playing with her own fingers as she looked down at her lap where they lay.

And it was true, they did have a plan. They had gotten married a little over a year before, had just bought a house together. They were going to wait a few years to have children, until Mapi had retired and then they would adopt.

Ingrid knew she was throwing a wrench in the meticulously planned setup, but she couldn’t help it. She says as much, trying to explain her thought process.

“We have a plan, but every time I see you with a kid or a baby I can’t help but want one with you. My ovaries feel like they are going to burst, and I just know you would be the best Mami and I well…” Ingrid stopped herself with a sigh. Mapi was showing absolutely no emotion, simply observing the defender and trying not to give anything away as to her own thoughts.

“I know it would be a lot more complicated, but I don’t want to wait. We are stable, and I know we are both playing but I see more and more players having kids and I just…I feel like we could do it. I want a little baby that is you and me, I want to experience all of it,” Ingrid couldn’t decide if she was begging her wife to do this or trying to talk herself out of it, but either way Mapi softened when she saw how misty eyed the Norwegian was growing.

“Oh Ingrid, come here,” she replied gently, bringing the green eyed woman into her arms and hugging her firmly. She rubbed her hand up and down the dark haired woman’s back for a moment, before she pulled back slightly.

“Princesa, I want that with you too, of course I do,” Mapi promised, as Ingrid paused, looking up at her wife’s face with confusion.

“You do? But we had…we had the whole plan!” She exclaimed, brushing away her own tears as she sat up, now a little lost. She was getting conflicting accounts, and her confusion persisted when Mapi appeared to grow a bit guilty, rubbing at the back of her neck.

“I don’t…I really want kids but I do not want to carry them. And I didn’t want to put that on you, so I suggested the plan instead so neither of us would have to sacrifice our careers,” the brunette admitted, feeling a little bit bad about it. She wanted kids, very badly in fact, but the thought of carrying them held absolutely no appeal to her whatsoever. And given her own negative thoughts on the matter, she had absolutely no intention of making her wife feel like she had to carry their kids, if she didn’t want to.

“Oh my god Mapi no, I want to carry,” Ingrid gushed, realizing with a flush of hope that she might not be entirely crazy or alone in her desires. “I only went along with the plan because you seemed so insistent!”

The center back appeared skeptical, if nothing else.

“Ingrid, are you sure? This is a big decision, I do not want it to be something we decide lightly, and then you regret it later on. You would have to stop playing for upward of a year, it might end up being very rough, I know that–” Mapi just keeps going on and on, and after a moment the Norwegian has to stop her, a hand on her wife’s knee.

“I have thought about it. And we can talk more about it, sure, but I have definitely thought about it. If we started a transfer soon in the new year, we could have the baby in the winter of next, and by the time the new season rolls around I should be good to come back fully. My contract runs for long enough that it would work, and I spoke to Jonatan already about a renewal after that. I think it makes sense to do it now,” Ingrid explained, as the Spaniard listened to her thoughtfully.

“You have thought about it,” she concedes, trying not to allow herself to grow too excited. The thought of a baby, her own baby with Ingrid, was more than something to be thrilled about.

“The only thing is…” Ingrid trails off, and the amber eyed woman’s eyebrows furrow in an instant, as she leans in toward the Norwegian.

“What is it?” She asked softly, the care in her voice quite clear.

“I don’t think I would want to do it more than once. At least not right now…after I retire perhaps? But I don’t want to take off playing like that a whole second time,” she admitted, and Mapi’s entire body softened.

“That is completely understandable. We can start with the one, and go from there,” she replied very matter-of-factly. Ingrid bit her lip just slightly, feeling a flush rise up in her cheeks because of the excitement.

“Does this mean we’re having a baby?” She asked, her voice filled with hope. Mapi appeared to be tearing up beside her as well, a surprise considering that the brunette was not usually a crier.

“I think we might be,” the center back confirmed, as both of their hearts flew with excitement.

—

“Are you sure I can’t come in?” Mapi pleaded for what was probably the seventeenth time in the span of a minute, and Ingrid took a deep breath before answering.

“I said I wanted you out there, so just stay. I will be out in less than five minutes, I know you can go longer than five minutes without seeing me!” The dark haired woman called back from behind the closed door.

The Norwegian was in the bathroom, having just peed on a stick, while her wife camped right outside the door, her cheek pressed against the wood. Ingrid had said she wanted to do this alone, and Mapi respected that…almost.

But at least her incessant pestering would be good practice for when the baby came.

If…if there was even a baby to come. Ingrid didn’t really feel all that different since her insemination two weeks ago, which felt more like a bad sign than a good one. Surely she would have felt different if she was pregnant, right?

The doctor did say that there was a chance it wouldn’t work on the first try, but the thought made Ingrid far too discouraged to even begin to think of. She would cross that bridge if she came to it, she decided.

“Three minutes is up!” Mapi called out from behind the closed door, her clock app open.

“Okay, I’m looking,” Ingrid called out, while the Spaniard paced back and forth outside the door. She wanted to respect the Norwegian’s boundaries, she really did, but she was equally as eager as her wife to know if they were pregnant.

After the taller woman had said she was going to check, the silence in their house seemed to stretch for an endless amount of time. The brunette waited with her breath held, and as the time stretched on longer and longer she began to grow more and more worried that it was not going to be a positive result.

Just as she was about to say something though, the door to the bathroom went flying open, and the dark haired woman was shoving the pregnancy test in her face.

“It is positive!” She squealed, clapping her hands together as Mapi took the test, staring down at it with huge eyes.

“It worked?!” She asked, looking up at Ingrid with alarm. When the green eyed woman nodded, tears immediately began to well up in her eyes. The Norwegian’s excitement dulled just slightly, suddenly concerned about the Spaniard beginning to cry.

“No, no, amor, it is good! It is a good result, no?” Ingrid asked, gripping her wifes shoulders as Mapi nodded her head insistently, fat, bumble bee like tears rolling down her cheeks.

“It’s a perfect result!” She sobbed, blubbered practically, and Ingrid looked at her wife as though she had grown a second head.

Mapi was not a crier. The Spaniard was typically a very happy person, and when she was not, it wasn’t typical to find her crying. Ingrid was pretty sure she could count on both hands the number of times she had seen the center back cry, even now that they were married.

So to see her crying was…unusual, if not a tiny bit alarming.

“Are you okay?” She asks, as Mapi reaches down to touch her hand gently to Ingrid’s stomach, and she’s crying and smiling brightly all at the same time, somehow.

“I am SO happy,” she replied easily, and Ingrid felt herself relaxing as she realized that they were happy tears, and that everything was okay.

“Hola mi sol, we are so excited to meet you, we are so thrilled that you are here,” Mapi whispered to Ingrid’s stomach, and the Norwegian now found herself tearing up as she realized what this really meant.

They were having a baby.

—

The decision was made not to tell the team until Ingrid was thirteen weeks along.

All of the necessary staff was informed, and the Norwegian had been cleared to continue playing as she usually did, if not a bit more on the light side. But it was nothing to arouse attention, and honestly the pregnancy had been going very smoothly. She hardly had any symptoms, and if it were not for the continued positive tests and the fact that her breasts were so tender, she would not have believed she was pregnant.

But the thing that is absolutely going to break their cover?

Mapi fucking León.

In the last several weeks, the brunette had gone from her usual, slightly emotionally repressed self, to a complete and utter puddle.

All of the sudden she was crying at the world's most random things. A cute cat video, Alexia saying she had a good day at training, Jana announcing her renewal at Barcelona.

Which was very cute…if not for the fact that she had already known about the announcement for several weeks now already. And all of the girls were starting to grow

“Mapi, they’re going to catch onto us,” Ingrid whispered harshly to her wife as they walked out to the car, her gaze more than a little judgemental. The amber eyed woman looked back at her with absolutely no amusement, clearly not thrilled by the feedback.

“I do not know what to tell you amor I cannot just turn it off! I don’t know how you do it,” she grumbled as a stray tear leaked out of her eye, and Ingrid shot her a look.

“What do you mean–how I do it?” She questioned with a raised brow, and Mapi shrugged, gesturing wildly with her hands.

“Oh I don’t know - you cry more than me!” She announced, and the dark haired woman looked over at her as she sat down in the car.

“Not right now I don’t!” Ingrid couldn’t help but laugh as her wife made an indignant noise next to her, but had absolutely no comeback for that.

—

“Shh! I can hear them walking in, get it together!”

Mapi and Ingrid turned to one another as they heard someone whisper scream that, in the direction of what sounded suspiciously like the locker room.

As it turns out, Mapi’s behavior had begun to worry not just some of their teammates…but rather all of them. They had all stayed late one day to discuss, and decided that the best course of action was to ask the Spaniard if everything was okay. They decided to do it as a team, as a show of support.

They weren’t sure what was going on with the center back, but she was very clearly going through something, in their eyes. They did not want it to go unnoticed or undiscussed.

Which was how Mapi and Ingrid walked hand and hand into a changing room intervention, when the green eyed woman was only nine weeks pregnant.

And really, looking back it was a miracle they had managed to last as far as they did, given how strange the brunette was acting.

Which led them to right here, right now, standing in front of their entire time, who were all looking at Mapi with varying levels of concern.

“Uh…hi guys?” Mapi asked more than said her greeting, and it was Alexia who stepped up and forward to greet her friend, clearly the leader of whatever this conversation is going to be.

“Hi Mapi. We need to talk to you,” the captain explained as she looked around at the group, who all nodded at her.

“We are worried about you Mapi. Clearly something is going on, and that is okay! We want to be here, support you, however we can. But we can’t help if we don’t know what is going on,” Alexia’s words were soothing, and the Spanish center back could feel the panic inside of her growing larger with the minute.

She really was not a good liar. She wasn’t the worst liar, but she wasn’t a good one either.

She considered telling them that it was something private, but that was only going to start more discussion and concern among the team. All of the girls look worried, and she feels bad for concerning them with her behavior, even if it was accidental.

But oh god, Ingrid is going to be furious if she tells them, Mapi is sure.

When the brunette chances a glance at her wife, she’s surprised to find that the Norwegian doesn’t seem annoyed but rather amused by the whole thing. More than likely, she, like Mapi, realized that they were fighting a losing battle of trying to keep this a secret.

When a question forms on the amber eyed woman’s face, Ingrid responds with a small nod, and Mapi knows that she has her permission.

She lets out a sigh, rubbing her hand over her face before she looks back at her team. They are all looking at her with confusion, and she decides to just tell it to them straight.

“We are pregnant!” She announces, looking at Ingrid briefly, before she looks back to her team.

Everyone seems to be stunned into complete and utter silence. Someone lets out a gasp, and Alexia’s jaw looks as though it would be on the floor if it were not still attached to her cheek.

The blonde captain looks from Mapi’s face to her stomach and back again, unable to gather up any words for a few seconds.

“You are pregnant?!” She asks in complete disbelief, and the center back blanches at the comment, her own jaw dropping open in shock as she looks down at her own stomach, as though checking to make sure that she wasn’t actually pregnant.

“What? No! Ingrid is, not me!” She rushed to amend, frantically gesturing to her wife, and the midfielder looked from her best friend to her best friend’s wife, who went from looking unimpressed by her wife’s gesturing to holding up her hands as though to say surprise! to the whole team.

“You are pregnant?” Alexia repeats, except this time it is directed at Ingrid and not the brunette standing next to her. The Norwegian blushes, before she nods her head in the affirmative.

“I am. It was a little early still, I am only nine weeks along. We weren’t planning on telling anyone until I was done with the first trimester, but apparently someone can’t keep a lid on any secret ever,” Ingrid explained to the collective, still holding Mapi’s hand.

When she focuses back on Alexia though, she finds that the Spanish captain appears to be deep in thought.

“Are you not happy Ale?” Mapi asked suddenly, and there is insecurity laced in her voice that the whole team can tell. That seems to break the blonde out of her trance, and she jumps to shake her head.

“No, I am thrilled for the both of you!” She explains, and her tone is nothing but genuine.

“Then what is wrong? You look like you are doing mental math,” the amber eyed woman comments nervously, still a little confused and worried.

“I’m just–Ingrid is the pregnant one, no?” Alexia receives confirmation of this when they both nod.

“Then why the hell are you the one that is crying all the time! Isn’t that supposed to be her job?” The captain points out, and Ingrid’s face raises in triumph as Mapi’s face falls in annoyance.

“That is exactly what I have been saying Ale!” The Norwegian gloated happily, while Mapi crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance.

“I have recently converted to being an empath! I have to sympathize with her pain!” She cried, and received twenty two equally unimpressed gazes staring right back at her. She deflates like a balloon at the pressure, throwing her hands up.

“Okay fine, you all win! I’m just weird, I do not know!” She finally admitted, not knowing what else to say. That seemed to make everyone happy, as the whole team stood with excitement, making their way over to hug both the Spaniard and the Norwegian.

“I can’t wait, we are going to have a Blaugrana baby!” Pina squealed, and at those words Alexia lit up like a child on Christmas, realization dawning on her face as she turned back to the couple.

“Oh my god!” She properly squealed, taking both Mapi and Ingrid by surprise. The two looked at one another before they looked back at Alexia.

“What is it capitana?” The dark haired woman asked, shaking her head slightly in confusion.

“I AM GOING TO BE A TÍA!”

---

Note: Since I know someone might ask - if you would like to read the fic of when Elena meets the Barcelona girls for the first time as a baby, it can be found on ao3 at I Wanna Thank You Baby, You Make It Feel Like Christmas

#ingrid x mapi x daughter #ingrid engen #mapi leon #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #jana fernandez #claudia pina

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harryslittlefreakk · 20 days

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favourite crime 3

summary: harry disappears and leaves y/n in the dark. when he finally resurfaces, they struggle to heal hurt and broken hearts.

warnings: angst, brief mentions of cheating, fluff, age gap relationship, teacher/student relationship

wordcount: 5.2k

a/n: strap in its angsty!!!!! but we’re almost at the end of the back and forth now, i want my babies to be happy 😭

thank you so much for reading & supporting 🤍 masterlist | favourite crime masterlist

“You really haven’t seen him?”

You nibbled on your lower lip as you waited for Courtney to reply, rubbing two fingers over your temple.

“No, and Josh still hasn’t heard from him either. Last I knew, he was coming to find you,” Courtney murmured, smoothing a hand over your hair.

“There’s rumours everywhere,” you told her. “He quit, he got fired. You don’t think someone found out and he had to leave?”

Courtney shook her head, leaning back in her seat. “He would’ve told you. Even if it was the last time you ever spoke, I think he would’ve told you.”

You pulled your knees to your chest, staring up at the ceiling. It had been over a week since you’d seen or heard from Harry. You’d checked with Courtney every day, hoping by some miracle that he’d gone home or spoken to Josh, but he hadn’t. He’d pushed you away in his office and then fallen off the face of the Earth.

You’d typed out and deleted texts almost every hour, rushing to check your messages and missed calls as soon as you woke up every morning. Your finger had hovered over Harry’s phone number, never hitting call.

You made sure to walk by his office everyday, hoping for some sign of life, but nothing ever came. Your mind was running wild. You couldn’t help but imagine him lying in a ditch somewhere, hurt and alone. Or on the run, dramatically changing his appearance to escape law enforcement after his relationship with you had been revealed. Or worse, he simply felt he had to disappear to save himself from you.

It wasn’t until you saw a flash of brunette curls disappearing into his door that your worry turned into white-hot rage.

Your heart rate quickened with your feet, your shaking hand fumbling with the doorknob as you barged in behind him.

The blood was pounding in your ears, every muscle in your body tense as he turned around and looked at you.

“What the fuck, Harry?”

Your voice was a whisper with all the anger of a shout, the words catching in your dry throat. Your hands balled into fists inside your sleeves as Harry looked over you, barely a speck of emotion on his face.

He was no different to the last time you saw him, his outfit one you’d seen before, each line and crease on his face no different than before. But the way he was looking at you was new. He was indifferent, arms resting at his sides as he waited for words that you couldn’t form. His eyes held nothing. You felt like a stranger to him, and you willed your feet to carry you away, back to the comfort of not knowing where he was but knowing who you were to him.

But as you turned away, he finally spoke. “How long does it take you to get home?”

“Thirty minutes,” you answered, tears resting on your eyelashes as you stared at your feet.

“Then I’ll see you in thirty minutes,” Harry replied, watching you leave his office as quickly as you burst in.

—

Harry sat in his car outside your house, his hands gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. His eyes were locked on the mirror, watching the corner of your street with a clenched jaw.

His anger simmered just beneath the surface, a volatile mix of frustration and betrayal. The minutes felt like hours as he replayed the last time he was here, stoking the fire of his anger. He was determined to hear the truth, even if it meant he would never see you again.

The second you turned the corner, his heart near stopped. You didn’t seem to notice him or his car as you approached, your eyes weary and heavy-lidded as you stared straight ahead.

Harry hadn’t paid much attention to you in his office, trying to ignore the pained furrow of your brows, the red tint of sleepless nights beneath your eyelashes, the way you looked almost exactly the same and yet so different to him. But as he looked at you then, dulled and burnt out even as the afternoon sun illuminated everything around you, his anger fell away and shame rolled through his body in a nauseating wave.

He was a grown man. With a job, a home, a life that shouldn’t involve someone in their early twenties, someone who’s education he was responsible for. You may have approached him first, but he barely thought twice before pursuing you, fisting his cock that night with only thoughts of you in his mind.

And worse than that, he’d run away. He’d backed you into a corner, fucking you, making you his, while making it clear to you that you’d never be more than a fun weekend. He’d kissed you, set up boundaries so weak that you had no choice but to push through them, making you believe that you were setting the pace and dictating what relationship you would or wouldn’t have. Then he’d backed off.

He deserved every inch of the hell he’d found himself in. Harry ran a hand through his hair, suddenly wanting to be anywhere else. He still wanted answers, but he found himself totally unfazed towards whatever the truth was. You had every right to want him to hurt.

At the sound of keys jangling in a door, he turned his head, watching you let yourself in. With a deep sigh, he followed, his legs wooden as he trudged towards the door you’d left ajar.

“Hi,” Harry murmured, slipping into your apartment behind you. He hadn’t seen it before, and it was absolutely no different than he’d expected. You had fresh flowers and house plants on almost every surface, lilies and roses in soft pinks and whites, posters and pictures dotted around the walls.

You turned to face him, dropping your bag on the kitchen counter. “Where have you been?” you asked him, your voice sharper than you intended.

You heard his breath hitch in the silence, the sound of his shoes banging as he pushed them off, his socks soft against the floor as he edged towards you. The air between you was thick, charged with everything unsaid, everything he’d been avoiding.

“I saw him,” Harry said quietly, an edge to his voice, a tightness that betrayed his restraint. “I came here.”

He’d paused a few paces away, his expression unreadable in the sunlight seeping through the window. But you could read the tension in the way his jaw was clenched, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.

“Saw who?” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to keep the hurt at bay. “You kissed me, Harry. And then you disappeared. You didn’t say a word, didn’t even let anyone know if you were okay.”

He exhaled harshly, running a hand through curls that looked like they’d been toyed with all day long. “I didn’t know what to say! What do you want me to say? I came here to apologise, but you were clearly already busy.”

“You came here after I left your office?” you questioned, your voice rising. “I was tutoring, Harry. I told you I was fucking tutoring.”

He leaned the wall, steadying himself as you knocked the wind out of him. In the entire week he’d been gone, racking his brains every day for some kind of innocent explanation, he hadn’t even remembered that.

He knew he was jealous, overly possessive, even over people he couldn’t claim, but this was a new low.

“I was tutoring Tommy, who’s in your fucking class and has a girlfriend. I needed to get my notes from my room. Which is where I’m assuming you saw us?” you paused for him to confirm, feeling rage wash over you like a tidal wave.

“He followed me into my room, and then we studied, Harry. At the dining table. On opposite sides.”

You ran a hand over your face, eyes screwed shut as you tried to make sense of it all.

“You don’t know how it looked,” Harry whispered, the colour drained from his face, his jaw clenched.

“You disappeared for a week. No communication, no word to even Josh. I was going out of my mind, Harry! There were rumours everywhere. You were hurt, you got fired, you got caught with a student - how do you think that felt? How that looked?”

His silence said more than his words ever could, and it made your blood boil. You took a step toward him, closing the distance between you, your heart pounding against your ribs.

“Why do you keep doing this?” you asked, your voice starting to tremble. “You took me to the lake, you suggested the weekend away. You thought sleeping with me and then dropping me was the best plan. You kissed me, you pushed me away. And now you seriously think that I’d do this?”

When he still kept quiet, eyes flitting across your face, your anger reached boiling point. You were being mean, you knew that. You’d had just as much of a hand in anything that happened, but blaming Harry felt easier.

“Do you think I wanted any of this? You pull me close, like you want me, like you feel something, and then the second it gets too much, you push me away. Do you even know what that does to me?”

That struck a nerve. You could see it in the way his face twisted, his body recoiling slightly as if your words struck him deeper than you intended. He looked at you, and for a moment, there was something raw in his gaze.

Harry stepped closer, his body tense as if he was barely holding himself upright. He pushed his head back, inhaling a deep, deep breath before looking back at you. “You didn’t want any of that?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s not what I meant, Harry, and you know that. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more than I want this. But I wanted more,” you explained, turning your back on him as you tried to keep a hold of yourself.

“It wasn’t meant to be like this,” Harry confessed, pinching the top of his nose. “I don’t know how it all got so complicated.”

“You pulled the strings, Harry. You made it this way,” you replied, letting your chin fall to your chest. Nothing made sense to you. It had been two weeks with Harry, and you’d barely even spent any time with him during those weeks. Yet you were practically falling apart, sagging under the weight of the heartbreak.

You turned back to face Harry, needing him to see the hurt he’d caused written over your face.

His eyes dropped to the floor, and for a moment, he looked as though he would say something - finally actually admit what he’d been feeling. But instead, he just shook his head, his voice barely a whisper when he spoke.

“I didn’t want it to be this way.”

You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to believe that this had all just been some misunderstanding, that he wasn’t as scared of his own feelings as you thought. But you were exhausted. Tired of the back and forth, of the emotional whiplash that had been defining whatever it was the two of you had.

“So what now?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady. “What do we do now, Harry?”

He looked up at you then, and the way he was staring, it almost felt like a plea. Like he was hoping you’d have the answer, that you’d know how to fix the mess you’d both found yourself in.

But you didn’t. And if your heart hadn’t already shattered, it would have broken at the realisation that neither did he.

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken things. You stared at each other, neither of you knowing what to say, both of you too scared to admit how badly you needed each other.

It felt like you were standing on opposite sides of a chasm, each too wounded and too stubborn to reach across.

“I just want there to be a reality in which we can be happy.”

You turned back to face him, willing your heart not to shatter as Harry’s whisper cut through you. It was a thought you’d rejected countless times since seeing Harry in the bar that night. Happiness in a relationship, especially at the start, shouldn’t have been so hard to find and hold on to. But for some reason, there had been trouble at every turn.

You could feel the sting of tears in your eyes, the image of Harry in front of you blurring. Your hands trembled as you reached up to wipe your eye, the dam finally breaking.

Tears streamed down your face, unbidden and unstoppable. You had fought so hard to keep it together, convincing yourself that things would get better, that they could still fix what was clearly broken. But standing there in the silence in the wake of Harry’s words, you felt completely destroyed.

Harry looked away, his gaze falling to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes anymore. His shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he looked as if the fight had drained all the energy out of him. “I don’t want to fight with you, y/n,” he said quietly, his voice filled with exhaustion. “I hate this.”

You let his words hang in the air, unsure of anything you can say or do to make the situation better. “I need to change,” you told him eventually, padding past him towards your bedroom.

Harry watched you leave, your arms hanging limply by your sides, your steps light despite the darkness weighing on you.

He followed after a minute, holding up his fist to knock on the door, before it falls to his side. He picked it up again, reaching out for the doorknob with tentative fingers, before completely abandoning any attempt to get you to let him in. His heart broke with how badly he wanted to be there, to ease you out of the day’s clothes and help you into new ones, to wipe your tears with the soft knit of his jumper and to make it all better. But he didn’t know how to be in your space, how to comfort you when he was the very source of your tears.

When you eventually opened the door, you tried to walk straight past him, but he reached out to gently catch your arm. For a brief moment, your eyes met, and in that instant, he couldn’t hold back anymore. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as your body trembled. He cradled you, his hand smoothing over your hair, the other placed firmly your back, and you stood there, enveloped in him, his scent and his touch filling the space around you, until your breathing slowed.

Once you were steady, no longer wrapped tightly around him as though he was the only thing keeping you up straight, he lead you to the sofa, his hand never leaving your lower back. You lay your head in his lap, staring straight out of the window at the setting sun.

Harry softly ran his fingers through your hair, his fingertips scratching at the roots in just the way he knew you loved. A soft smile tugged at his mouth, remembering how you’d fallen asleep in seconds after his hands found your hair. His eyes never left your face, trained on every detail as though he was worried this was the last time he’d ever see them. He watched the way your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked, noticing the faint furrow of your brows starting to smooth out after a while. The pink tint at the tip of your nose, the soft freckles dotted over your cheeks, the shine on your lower lip. You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

After some time, you shifted onto your back, turning to face him. Reaching up with a gentle hand, you l pushed a stray curl from his forehead. "I’m so sorry, Harry. I never thought things would get like this,” you whispered, a single stray tear slipping down your cheek, coming to rest on the fabric of his slacks in a tiny damp spot.

"You don’t have anything to apologise for," he replied, his voice tender, laced with emotion.

He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Are you hungry? Do you want to shower?"

You nodded at that, feeling the weight of the past week clinging to you, suddenly desperate to wash it all away.

You sat up, your head pounding after so many tears and such twisting emotions, and dragged yourself to the bathroom.

You sat on the edge of the bath, staring at yourself in the mirror. You looked exhausted, both emotionally and physically drained in the wake of a week that had nearly broken you.

Harry followed you after a few minutes, watching from the doorway as you gathered your strength. He couldn’t bear the thought of a life without you, without the colours you’d brought into his world. He kneeled in front of you, gently taking your hand in his. His touch was soft, tentative, as if he was afraid he might break you further.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, his voice soft. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, his gaze pleading for forgiveness, for the chance to make things right.

You nodded, too tired to protest, and that was all Harry needed. He tugged on your hands to make you stand, his hands soft and steady as he undressed you. There was a tenderness in the way he moved, a quiet determination to show you that he was still there, and that he wasn’t going to let go. Not then, not ever.

He turned on the water, making sure it was the right temperature, then adjusting the radiator so it would warm your towel as you showered. As he was about to walk away, you pulled on his arm, directing his attention back to you.

“Stay with me,” you whispered, thumbing the hem of his jumper, waiting for permission to strip him of his clothes. When he didn’t protest, you undressed him in the same way he’d done for you, then finally stepped under the water.

His fingers gently brushed your hair back, away from your face, and you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the water and Harry’s presence soothe you. He reached behind you, running your soap between his hands before gently massaging them over your skin.

His touch was featherlight, as if he was trying to wash away not just the exhaustion, but the hurt that had built up between you. He was careful, attentive, his actions filled with unspoken words of love and regret. As he moved, his lips brushed against your shoulder, a silent apology, a promise that he would do better. The intimacy of it made you weak, your body turning to jelly as he cared for you in a way you knew no other man was capable of.

“I don’t want you to ever think I was using you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the running water. “You’re so much more than what you can give me.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, as he stepped a little closer to you. The warm water cascaded over both of you, its steady rhythm filling the quiet space between you and Harry. His eyes searching yours as the droplets slid down his face, his breath slightly ragged.

Your hand lifted slowly, fingers coming up to caress his cheek as you stared at each other through the steam, your fingertips lingering as if you were scared to let go.

“You’re so beautiful. I don’t think I’ve told you that enough,” Harry murmured, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

You swallowed hard, your throat closing around any words you could come up with. “Harry,” you whispered eventually, your voice raw from all the emotions of the day. “At times like this, I can really picture a life with you,” you finished, shy as the words finally came out.

You weren’t even sure what the fate of your relationship was, whether you even had another shot at happiness with him. But you knew, as much as it pained you to realise it, that things had only gotten so fucked up because both you and Harry had felt so much more intensely for one another than you’d ever expected. It wasn’t just sex, or a weird fling. There was something real between the two of you, you were certain of that.

His fingers traced along your jawline, his eyes glistening as he took in what you’d said. And then, without hesitation, Harry leaned in, closing the space between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft, yet full of urgency. It wasn’t at all like the other times, it was deeper, filled with apology, with longing, with the need to prove that neither of you were willing to let go.

The water poured over your entwined bodies, but all you could feel was him. His kiss was tender at first, but as the seconds passed, it grew more passionate, more desperate, as if he was trying to pour everything he felt into that one moment. His hands moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks as his lips moved against yours, seeking not just forgiveness, but something solid to hold onto as you both tried to find your way back.

Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You kissed him back, matching his intensity, your fingers curling into his damp skin as if afraid that if you let go, you’d lose him all over again. The warmth of the water mixed with the heat of his body against yours, and finally anything outside of that moment faded away.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for air, your foreheads pressed together, Harry’s chest was heaving, his eyes still closed as if he was trying to hold onto the feeling of your lips on his. His hands didn’t leave your face, and you could feel the slight tremble in them as he pulled you into his chest, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

“You’re everything. Everything,” Harry muttered, his voice muffled by your hair, one arm wrapping around your back, holding you tight to him.

He shut the water off after a while, letting you melt into him for as long as you needed to. The air in the bathroom was thick, warm steam curling in the corners of the room.

“Come here,” Harry murmured, holding your towel out for you, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

You hesitated for a moment, but then you moved closer, letting him gently wrap the towel around your body. His touch was careful, tender as he pulled the fabric tight around you, tucking it securely. His fingers lingered for a second longer, grazing your bare skin as they brushed over your arms. His eyes met yours, filled with that familiar warmth, but there was something else, something quieter. Maybe regret, maybe something unsaid.

“Go on, princess,” he whispered, his voice soothing, like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be taking care of you. “I’ll bring you a cuppa.”

You nodded, offering an exhausted but grateful smile before heading toward the bedroom. The weight of the day had left your body heavy, but Harry’s presence, his care, made everything seem softer, lighter somehow.

Harry stood in front of the kettle, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as he waited for the water to boil. The kitchen was quiet, except for the low hum of the kettle, but his mind was anything but.

He tried to focus on the task at hand - two cups of tea, something simple. Something he could control. But his thoughts kept drifting back, slipping through the cracks he was trying to seal up. The mistakes he'd made, the moments when he’d let you down, they all crowded his mind, a slow, sinking weight in his chest.

He thought about the hurt, the missed chances to say the right thing, the times he’d let his guard down only to retreat again out of fear. He’d always been good at getting in his own way, letting his own doubts cloud the way forward. It was no different now that he had been risking his career for you. He’d wanted so badly to protect you, to keep you close without smothering you, but somewhere along the way, he’d gotten lost in his own head. And now, standing in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil, those moments felt like stones in his chest.

You deserved better. He knew that. And he wasn’t always sure he could be that person for you. You needed someone who didn’t hurt you, who didn’t let their own insecurities and mistakes get in the way.

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to push the thoughts down, but they kept rising, unbidden. What if he wasn’t enough? What if he made another mistake, and it was one you couldn’t forgive?

The kettle clicked off, its billowing steam piercing through his thoughts, grounding him again. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus. He was there, caring for you, showing you how badly he wanted to fix what he’d broken. He poured the water over the tea bags, watching the liquid swirl, darkening as it steeped.

As he waited, he thought about the look in your eyes when he wrapped the towel around you. The way you trusted him, the way you let him take care of you without question even after such a shit show of a day - a week - because of his immature insecurities.

Teas in hand, he took a deep breath, steadying himself before heading back to the bedroom. You were perched on the edge of the bed, the beginnings of a cloud of sleep hovering over you.

“Here you go,” he whispered, placing the mugs down before brushing a strand of hair from your face.

As soon as he straightened up, the towel wrapped precariously around his toned hips threatened to come loose. His hands flew to it, protecting his modesty with a sheepish grin.

A laugh bubbled out of you for the first time that day, shaking your shoulders softly as the giggles exploded out of you.

“I should have considered this scenario before getting into the shower with you,” Harry smirked, covering the soft blush of his cheeks with his free hand.

“I still have your t-shirt,” you offered, nudging your head towards your top drawer. “But I can’t help with pants.”

“Somehow a t-shirt with a loose cock feels worse than this,” Harry murmured, frowning as he glanced down at the tiny towel barely covering any of him.

You let your eyes linger on his body for a second, knowing that absolutely none of your clothes would fit his big frame. Your gaze dropped to your own t-shirt, thinking for a beat before pulling it back over your head and dropping it by your feet. “Solidarity,” you told him, not failing to notice how his breath caught at the sight of you, as if he hadn’t just run his hands over every part of your naked body.

Harry reached over you to grab your towel, turning away before pulling his own from his body, heading towards the bathroom with a little sway in his hips, as if he knew you’d be watching.

And you were. You leaned around the door frame, eyes locked on his tight ass until he was out of sight.

The weight in your chest lightened as you smiled, the domesticity healing a part of you that you didn’t know was broken.

You lay back against your pillows, cradling your mug in your hands. The room was dimly lit by the faint glow of the moon outside, casting soft shadows across the walls. It was quiet, save for the sound of gentle breathing, yet the silence between you and Harry felt heavy.

You shifted slightly, resting your head against Harry’s shoulder, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. You had been here before, so close, so intimate, but it felt different. There was a weight in the air, a lingering sense of uncertainty. You were clearly over the worst, both hearts mending slowly and carefully, but it still felt too raw and too heavy to be fixed so fast.

"Do you think we still have a chance?" your voice was faint, your words timid as if you didn’t actually want an answer, but the question pierced through the stillness with raw vulnerability. You screwed your eyes shut, afraid of what Harry’s answer might be, but you knew that it needed to be heard. The uncertainty was what had been hanging over your heads, both of your minds drifting to that very question in every quiet moment.

Harry’s arms slipped around your waist, pulling you closer ever so slightly, but he didn’t respond immediately. His gaze fixed on the ceiling, his jaw tightening as he thought. He had been hurt, and so had you. But the risks were far greater for him, and anything between you both, whether it was love of heartbreak, needed to be worthy of that danger.

"I don’t know," he admitted finally, his voice hoarse. "I want to believe we do. I don’t think we would be here now if there wasn’t a chance." He sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. "I don’t want to lose you. I never wanted to hurt you."

You swallowed hard, turning to face him with leftover tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

"I don’t want to lose you either," you said, your fingers tracing small patterns over his bare chest. "But I don’t know if things can go right back to how they were.”

Harry’s breath hitched, and he gently tipped your chin up so that your eyes met. There was something soft yet intense in his gaze, a quiet determination lurking beneath. "I don’t think either of us want them back to the way they were,” he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk.

You bit your lip, trying to contain the laugh that wanted to slip out. “Maybe better than before. But I don’t know if that can happen straight away,” you confessed.

Harry took your mug from your hand, reaching behind you to place it on your nightstand, before pulling you closer to his chest. Snuggled up to his side, with his arms right around you, you suddenly felt more secure in yourself and Harry’s future than you ever had.

“All we can do is try,” he whispered against your skin, his nose nudging at your cheek.

Slowly, you turned to meet his gaze, finding a softness in his face that you weren’t sure you’d ever seen before. His brows were slightly furrowed, as if even he was uncertain about his every move, but the tenderness in his expression made your breath catch. You leaned further into him, your lips ghosting across his.

Then his lips brushed yours, a sweetness in the gesture that made your heart stutter. Your eyes were locked on each others, seeking permission and acceptance, neither of you sure about how the other would react. But when neither of you made the effort to move away, or to protest, the space between you disappeared in the smallest of breaths.

Harry’s mouth moved with hesitance, as if he wasn’t sure he really had the right to be there with you, wrapping himself around you. But you kissed him back, of course you kissed him back, praying that any movements you made showed him just how much you wanted him there.

Your hand found his, your fingers lacing together as if to make your connection deeper. Neither of you pulled away, savoring the tentative closeness, letting the quiet stretch between kisses, as if testing the waters of something new and unknown.

When you finally broke apart, your foreheads rested against each others, breaths mingling in the soft light. Harry’s thumb brushed across the back of your hand, his touch grounding and real.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring.

You nodded, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as your eyes trailed over his face. “Tomorrow is a new day,” you murmured, nudging your head into the space between his shoulder and his neck, breathing him in with a content smile brewing your lips.

“Tomorrow is a new day,” Harry repeated, breathing out a deep sigh of relief.

oop thank you so much for reading!!!!

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mrkis · 1 year

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the way life goes — six(final). (n.jm)

PAIRING: na jaemin x reader GENRE: angst, fluff, smut, college au WORD COUNT: 18.5k

SYNOPSIS: it's crazy how everything had came to be in your life, you didn't expect anything to happen the way it did. but you suppose that's the way life goes.

CHAPTERS WARNINGS: absolute mess and head fuck as twlg always is, angsty just how i like it, mentions of heavy emotions, dumb reader and jaemin moments, eunbin and jaemin moments, mentions of alcohol and weed, explicit language (a lot of cursing), kissing, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex,

[series m.list]

Jaemin sleeps soundly for the first time that night.

He would argue that it’s probably the best sleep he’s had in ages—covered in blankets, wrapped up in your arms with his head resting on your chest, legs tangled together… he felt at peace.

He’s pretty sure he dreamt for the first time too. No recurring nightmares appearing or dreamless nights where he wakes up groggy, confused and lonely.

He dreamt. He dreamt of him, he dreamt of you. You looked so pretty—you always look pretty. You were smiling, you were laughing all while holding onto his arm and pointing at the sky. The sun was setting; a mixture of yellows, oranges and pinks. It would’ve been a beautiful picture to capture, especially with your silhouette in the shot.

The group were there too, running across that sand barefooted, screaming and shouting as the cold sea came to shore. But he wasn’t focused on them. He has his eyes set on you.

But, much to his dismay, he wakes up before he can even finish the dream, and he wakes up alone.

His hand runs across the bed, a frown settling on his features at the cold touch of the sheets pricks his fingertips. Jaemin lifts himself up on his elbows as he stares at the empty spot with fuzzy vision, hair sticking in different directions and muscles aching.

You’ve been out of bed for a while, He thinks while he sits up, sleeping rubbing at his face as he swings his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. He wobbles across his floorboards, blindly reaching in the dark to retrieve a clean pair of shorts to tug them up his legs to cover his modesty, fumbling to get to his bedroom door.

Jaemin steps out into the vacant hallway, squinting at the light that blinds his eyes as he walks towards the bathroom, dripping the doorknob and twisting with a call of your name, fully expecting you to be sitting on the toilet or even in the bathtub as he peers his head inside but grunts as he’s met with complete darkness, and a empty room.

His brows draw together in confusion as he pulls the door shut, turning to look over his shoulder to eye the closed bedroom doors of the other boys, not fully sure if they all came back home last night after they all ventured to the girls apartment.

Jaemin hovers outside of Yangyang’s bedroom, debating whether to open it up and take a quick peek inside to see if, for some reason, you were in there. But he’s met with darkness yet again, and an empty bed.

He feels a little uncomfortable and majorly confused, flashbacks of waking up alone after his last night with Eunbin before she disappeared repeats in his head and he feels the panic build up in his chest, trying his best to calm his erratic heartbeat as he ventures downstairs and into the kitchen to grab himself a glass of cold water but flinches in shock when he switches on the light and sees Donghyuck sat alone at the kitchen island with his hand shoved in a cereal box.

Jaemin stares at him in bewilderment, “What are you doing?”

“I’m eating” Donghyuck answers simply, giving him an odd look as he shoves another handful of cereal into his mouth before bringing his attention back to his phone that lays across the marble countertop, scrolling through instagram.

“Where is everyone?”

“Shotaro’s in his room sleeping, Renjun is with Haru and Yangyang and Jeno are walking Y/N back home”

Jaemin does a complete double take. “Walking her home?”

“She said she wasn’t feeling too good when we came in, caught her just by the door… was afraid she was going to throw up or something” Donghyuck explains to Jaemin who grows even more confused. “We were going to call her a cab but she said she wanted some fresh air so Jeno offered to walk her home. Yangyang tagged along because he got worried”

The panic inside of Jaemin builds at the thought of you not feeling okay, trying his hardest to remember how much alcohol you drank a few hours prior just in case you got too drunk, but he knows you didn’t drink that much and you were completely sober when you got back to the house. He then tries to remember if something had happened when the two of you were together in his room and if he had done something wrong or something to hurt you when you had slept together, but nothing comes to mind, he’s stuck.

Jaemin leaves Donghyuck alone in the kitchen as he runs back upstairs, not bothering to continue on with the conversation as the latter shouts nonsense behind him about what could’ve possibly happened, too busy searching for his phone to call you.

It rings once, twice, three times before it goes to voicemail and Jaemin huffs, tapping the call icon again and sandwiches his phone between his cheek and shoulder to listen to it ring once again as he yanks open his closet in search for some pants and a shirt, desperate to find something to wear so he can head over to your apartment.

“She’s home safe, you know” A voice interrupts from behind and Jaemin whizzes around to see Jeno standing in the doorway with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, head tilted to the side as he stares with Jaemin with an amused glint in his eyes when he sees the heap of clothes in front of him. “You can calm down”

“Is she sick?” Jaemin asks, pulling the phone away from his ears when it goes to voicemail yet again and he frowns.

“She doesn’t really seem herself,” Jeno admits, pressing his lips together as he figures out how to word his next question. “Did something happen between you both?”

“What? No” Jaemin's eyebrows furrow at that. “We’re fine. We talked when we got home—about the party and whatever. She was going to tell me something but we got carried away… did she say something to you?”

“Not a word” Jeno shakes his head, shifting on his feet as he straightens his back. “I don’t know if you know but Eunbin—”

“Dude, I don’t give a fuck about Eunbin right now” Jaemin cuts Jeno off with a deep sigh, his arms falling to his sides in exhaustion and annoyance. “Ever since she came back, all you guys have been doing is throwing her name around and shoving conversations about her in my face… I don’t care about Eunbin”

“Funny” Jeno scoffs, his tongue prodding at his cheek as he rips his hands out of his pockets to curl his fist around Jaemin’s bedroom door handle. “For someone that claims they don’t give a fuck about Eunbin, you sure hang out with her a lot”

Jaemin grits his teeth, “You know it’s not like that”

Jeno’s brows raise at that, “Do I?” And with that, Jeno slams the door shut, leaving Jaemin alone in his room with his thoughts.

Walking out and ignoring Jaemin after spending the night with him is probably one of the stupidest decisions you have ever made, and you have made a few.

A big part of you wanted to stay—to blurt out your full feelings and admit that you have grown to like him in a way you promised not to, but the conversation with Eunbin and lying about how there were no feelings involved weighed heavily on your chest and you felt guilty.

You felt guilty for lying, guilty for sleeping with him after telling Eunbin that you’d stop, guilty for leaving the second he fell into a deep sleep, guilty for not being selfish and getting what you want.

But, as always, you’ve never been selfish. You’ve always been selfless, you like making other people happy even if it means hurting yourself. It’s a flaw that the girls have grilled you for more times than you can possibly count.

You never learn, you never listen.

When Yangyang and Jeno walked you home that night, you could feel their curious and doubtful gazes on the side of your head, desperate to ask what was actually wrong and why you decided to leave early, clearly not taking the ‘I’m sick’ comment as an excuse. You hate how well they know you, but you were grateful they didn’t push for a real answer, there was no way you could be honest to them about what happened at the party.

“What’s wrong?” Miwoo questions you the next morning at breakfast and you feel your shoulders slump. Miwoo, on the other hand, pushes for the answer while Haru observes, staring at you until you break yourself. This is not what you need. “You’ve been weird since you got home late last night”

“Hungover” You simply lie, twirling your spoon around the cereal bowl. “I drank too much”

Miwoo scoffs at that, “You hardly drank”

“I agree” Haru chimes in softly, watching you over the rim of her coffee as she takes a sip.

“Nothings wrong,” You tell them.

“Okay”

“Stop it” You warn, pointing your spoon in Haru’s direction menacingly as if it will help, not appreciating the way the corners of her lips lift up in amusement. “I don’t like it when you assess me with your eyes, makes me feel nervous”

Miwoo grins, leaning on her elbow smugly. “Why would you be nervous if there’s nothing wrong?”

You huff in frustration, sliding down in your seat with a frown as you shove a spoonful of cereal in your mouth to not utter a single word to them, casting your eyes down to your bowl as they stare into you, waiting for you to crack.

You hold your ground, refusing to make eye contact with any of them as you continue eating your breakfast but the quietness that surrounds you three with the occasional crunch of cereal and sip of coffee makes you feel like you’re losing your mind.

“Fine” You immediately crack, your spoon clanging against the bowl as you drop it, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn your head towards Miwoo. “I’ll speak if you tell us why you’re spending so much time with Sunwoo”

Miwoo gasps, palm of her hand slapping against her chest in shock. “Don’t turn this on me”

Haru slowly cranes her head to Miwoo almost comically. “Interesting”

“I saw you talk to him last night so I’m sure he spilled on what I asked from him” Miwoo tuts with a shake of her head. “I just wanted to have some fun and Sunwoo carries a lot of the fun. He didn’t give me anything, but I did sit down with him for like an hour and talked… It was strange, a good strange”

You stare at her quizzically as you ask, “Do you like him?”

Miwoo snorts. “No. Since breaking up with Jeno, I’m done with relationships for now. I don’t need them”

“But?”

“But I like to think as myself as ‘sex positive’ so if the opportunity comes around where I can get dicked down then—”

“Okay, your turn” Haru cuts her off as she directs the conversation towards you, staring at you expectedly and you mentally groan, biting down on your inner cheek for even agreeing to spill the truth if Miwoo did first.

Honestly, you didn’t think Miwoo would actually talk about Sunwoo. You expected her to change the topic, to talk about something else like she usually does but of course, with just your luck, she was honest.

You sigh deeply, clearly a little frustrated and annoyed but you know your friends mean well. They’re curious—worried—about your sudden mood drop and how weird you’ve been acting since last night. They’re looking out for you, they care.

“I think I’m going to stop sleeping around with Jaemin” Your confession makes the girls freeze in confusion and shock, staring at you across the table and silently pleading for you to continue and explain. “I just thought that maybe it’s been going on for too long, you know”

Haru gives you a disappointed look, “You didn’t talk to him, did you?”

“I couldn’t” You shake your head, knowing what she’s hinting at. Your feelings towards Jaemin. “I couldn’t do it”

“Talk to him about what? How much you like him?” Miwoo asks nonchalantly as she takes a sip of her juice and your head snaps towards Haru for outing you out but she shakes her head, putting her hands up in defence and Miwoo snickers softly, “I figured it out. I’ve known for a while. I was just waiting for you to admit it out loud”

You frown deeply, “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really” Miwoo hums before sending you a smile, “I just know you. You're one of my best friends”

You blink at her sudden kindness, “Well that’s sweet”

Miwoo shrugs her shoulders with a smug grin as she leans back comfortably in her seat, “I try sometimes”

“I still think you should talk to him” Haru brings up the topic once again and your stomach flips with anxiety, a weight laying heavy on your chest. “You won’t know if he feels the same unless you talk to him about it”

“What if talking about it makes it worse?” You ask, voicing your fears with a shaken tone. “What if I’m standing there—blurting out my entire feelings and telling him that I broke the most important rule we made and then he rejects me or something?

“Rejection happens” Haru tells you quietly, giving you a small but tight lipped smile that does nothing to calm your nerves. “Rejection is a part of life. Sometimes it’s unavoidable, sometimes it’s not, but it happens. I think rejection helps us grow too. Sure, it fucking sucks but it’s a pain that will be forgotten in the long run. It’ll be okay”

“Also, there would be something seriously wrong with him if he rejected you” Miwoo chimes in, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you from across the table. “I’d date you if you confess your undying love to me”

You can’t help but smile in amusement at that, the corner of your lips twitching upwards. “Thanks, Miwoo”

Maybe you should’ve been completely honest to the girls on why you wanted to stop sleeping with Jaemin, and although you did admit a few of your worries like rejection and heartache, the thought of what Eunbin had asked of you left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You did weigh the pros and cons when you were alone in your room getting ready for the day. The pros being that they would have comforted you to the extreme, perhaps maybe even talked some sense into you and told you that it’s okay to be selfish every once in a while.

The cons felt heavier, intense. They would have gotten mad, at you and definitely at Eunbin. Haru has always been silent but deadly with her anger while Miwoo has, without a doubt, been more physical and verbal. She would get her hands dirty if someone had hurt you, Haru or anybody she cared about, even herself.

You didn’t want to cause a fight, that would be a little too dramatic.

You lean back in your chair at the library with a sigh, stretching out the aching muscles in your back and arms before placing down your pen and flexing out your fingers, the numbing sensation spreading to the tips, having been holding your pen in the same position for so long left a dull throbbing in your hand.

The heaps of notes, books and Donghyuck’s laptop that you borrowed from him once again splayed out in front of you proves how long you’ve been studying inside the library, and you mentally curse at yourself for spending your free period cramming all your work into one instead of grabbing a coffee with the others.

But you had your reasons.

A stack of books slam down on the desk in front of you and you jump in fright at the sudden noise, eyes widening in shock as your head snaps up to the culprit, ignoring the sounds of other students around you shushing you or warning you to be quiet as you see Jeno.

Usually, you would’ve scoffed and calmed down once settling your attention on Jeno, but with his jaw clenched and dark eyes staring at you through the messy strands that fall in front of his face, it’s hard for you to calm down. In fact, it makes you feel more scared.

“Why are you ignoring Jaemin?”

“I’m not!!” You splutter, shaking your head. You are. “Keep your noise down, we’re in a library”

“I don’t care about the library” Jeno scoffs, pulling out the chair vacant opposite you and making himself comfortable, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at you expectedly. “Why are you ignoring Jaemin?”

“I told you, I’m not” You lie, gesturing towards the mess in front of you. “I’ve been busy with my assessments. The college life is stressful, you know”

“So it has nothing to do with the conversation you had with Eunbin?” That throws you for a loop and your lips press together tightly, unable to control the emotions that are easily now written upon your face and Jeno sighs, dropping his head low with a shake before looking back up at you. “What happened?”

“Nothing—”

“Come on, you know you can’t lie to me,” Jeno says with a teasing smile. “Talk to me. I promise I won’t tell a soul” You give him a disbelieving look, “Okay, depends on what is it because sometimes I can’t keep my mouth shut when talking to Donghyuck—”

“Jeno” You cut him off with a frustrated sigh, rubbing your hand across your forehead at the headache that forms. Jeno frowns deeply at you, his efforts of making you laugh and crack a smile fails him, letting him know that whatever happened between you and Eunbin must’ve been serious.

He calls your name softly and your hand drops to your lap as you gaze up at him, hating how worryingly he’s looking at you right now but you bite back any comment you want to make, swallowing thickly before you begin to talk again.

“I don’t want to continue being official and sleeping with Jaemin anymore” You admit, the heavy weight laying on your chest once again as Jeno’s eyebrows raise in shock. “I have been avoiding him… but that’s because I’m nervous to have the conversation with him. I’m making it worse”

Jeno’s quiet as he mumbles, “How come?”

“Feels like it’s gotten a little out of hand” You laugh softly, embarrassment filling your tone as you stare awkwardly at your fidgeting hands. “Rules were broken—important rules. I ended up breaking the main one”

Jeno takes a moment to register what you had just admitted, remembering the five rules Jaemin had told him during the early stages of your friends with benefits situation, and everything slowly begins to sink in, a genuine smile threatening to spill onto his lips as he stares at you, “You like him”

You nod quickly, feeling awkward and embarrassed for admitting something to someone like Jeno: Jaemin’s ultimate best friend. You feel a little stupid too, but you push down all regrets and worries as you mutter, “But I can’t like him”

Jeno’s eyebrows furrow, confused. “Why not?”

You finally meet his eyes across the table, giving him a tight lipped smile as the words pour from your lips. “Because Eunbin likes him too”

Jeno promised he wouldn’t tell anyone about your conversation with Eunbin after he made you explain everything in detail, wrapping his pinky tightly around yours to seal off the promise.

The look of anger and annoyance written across his features worried you a little and at some point you were afraid he was about to burst and curse up a storm, but he kept his cool (much to your surprise) despite his facial expressions giving away exactly what he was thinking.

He accompanies you for his entire free period despite you telling him that you’re fine without the company but he ignores you as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, kicking his feet up on the empty chair beside him as he mindlessly scrolls. You scoff as you catch him glancing over at you from time to time.

Jeno also decides to come with you when Donghyuck demands his laptop back when he and the others return from getting coffee, sending you an interesting text with a bunch of emojis and light-hearted threats if you don’t return his ‘prized possession’ back in one piece.

You walk side by side with Jeno now, heading towards the outside grounds where you know the others will be waiting for your arrival and you grow a little nervous when you think about Jaemin. Would he be there? Did he have a free period to go and get coffee too? Or would he stay behind and catch up on his own work?

The questions leave you dizzy and annoyed, huffing at your thoughts which easily catches Jeno’s attention and he gives you a kind smile, reaching his hand up to your shoulder to dig his fingers into the pressure points, causing you to wince upon his first touch but slowly relax in complete bliss as you feel the tension slip away.

You give him a dumb grin to which he snorts at.

“Hey” A familiar voice calls out and you crane your neck to the side, the grin slowly slipping from your lips as you see Jaemin emerge from a class with Junghoon, who you’ve grown to learn is his nosey seatmate, by his side. It seems like your questions are answered. He did stay.

Jaemin eyes the way Jeno’s fingers are dug into your shoulders, brow twitching upwards in question when he watches his hands slowly trail down your arm and drop to his sides casually, giving Jaemin a smile that, for once, Jaemin didn’t bother giving back.

Your mouth feels dry upon seeing Jaemin, unable to come up with a simple greeting when he makes his way towards you, but he stops abruptly when Junghoon tumbles into him and apologises profusely when he steps on the back of Jaemin’s shoe, yet Jaemin pays no mind to the small accident and instead swats Junghoon away when it dawns on him that he’s trying to follow behind.

Junghoon’s mouth drops open in offence, spinning around on his heel with a scoff and disappearing into the crowd, but not before giving you a wave to which you felt obliged to return and your hand falls to your side when Jaemin brings his attention back to you.

“Hey” He greets you casually, but his brows pull together in concern as his eyes take you in, roaming your face with curiosity. “Are you okay? I’ve been trying to call you but… it kept going straight to voicemail”

“Yeah, sorry” You apologise, the guilt immediately eating you up and you struggle to look him in the eyes even when he tries so hard to meet yours. “I wasn’t feeling too great and then I had assessments from Professor Moon, I just—” You gulp. “I’ve been busy”

“Are you feeling better now?” Jaemin asks you and you nod quickly, but abruptly stop when he asks the next question, “Are you still busy now?”

“I, well…” You pause, staring down at Donghyuck’s laptop in your hands before looking back up at him. “I have to give this to Donghyuck—”

“Jeno can give it back” Jaemin tells you, not even sparing a glance at Jeno who’s been silently watching the interaction this entire time, his hands shoved deep into his jean pockets with his jaw locked. You’re unsure of what to say back, but the urge to make up a lame excuse on why you should be the one to give Donghyuck his laptop back lays on the tip of your tongue. “I want to talk to you, alone”

You’re about to decline, to follow along with your excuse until you hear the faint ‘please’ that leaves his lips when you take a second too long to answer him. It leaves you crumbling, the walls that you’ve built up fall down just from that word and the tone that was used.

You hate how weak he makes you feel and you mentally scold yourself when you hand the laptop over to Jeno who’s already staring at you, trying to communicate with you through subtle glances but you simply nod at him to tell him that everything was okay, and maybe this could be your chance to end things with Jaemin once and for all.

Jeno bids you both a silent goodbye, giving one last look at Jaemin and Jaemin holds eye contact with him for a few moments before dropping his head low as he remembers the small dispute the pair had regarding himself and Eunbin—but Jaemin didn’t care about that right now, not when he finally has you here in person.

He offers his hand out for you to take and you feel a little dumb staring at it, debating in your head whether to hold it or not. You really want to hold his hand, to feel his warmth against your skin and get that comfort you’ve been yearning for, yet the guilt is quick to rise and the conversation with Eunbin comes to mind. You can’t take his hand.

But yet, you do.

Your fingers slide through his before you can even register you’re doing it and the squeeze he gives your hand is enough to pull you out of your thoughts that swarm your head. You allow him to take you wherever he wants to go to talk to you alone and the anxiety that surges through your veins at the lingering eyes of others causes you to drop your head low to avoid their stares, especially Mia’s who watches with her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her jaw clenched.

“What’s going on?” Jaemin asks the question you have been dreading and the silence that fills the empty classroom he had pulled you inside for your one-on-one talk makes you feel uncomfortable, and a little nervous.

You have no idea how to even talk to him, let alone start the conversation of ending whatever it is you both have. A friends with benefits situation, an official one. That’s all it has ever been. Your stomach twists and turns at that, refusing to make eye contact with him as you look elsewhere, focussing on a board with scribbles from its previous class.

Jaemin calls out your name softly and you almost jump when you feel the palm of his hands cup your cheeks to turn your attention on him, and your heart drops plummets in your stomach. The desperate look in his eyes, the curiosity—the worry—it makes you feel sick.

“I know you said you’ve been busy… but it kinda feels like you’ve been avoiding me” Jaemin laughs lightly despite the crushed tone, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones as his lips press together with a sigh. “Please talk to me”

“Jaemin, I—” You wanted to scream when you heard his phone shrill loudly in his pocket, ruining your chance to explain what was going on. Maybe it was a good thing you were getting interrupted, you weren’t exactly ready to end whatever you both had and truthfully, you didn’t want to.

Although you grow confused when Jaemin allows his phone to continuously ring, not bothering to check the caller ID and answer it as his attention is focused on nothing but you. You would’ve been entirely grateful if this was under a different circumstance, recalling the amount of times he’s answered the phone when you were together but you couldn’t ignore it, not with that annoying ringtone.

Slipping your hand into his jean pockets, you fish out his phone and you barely bite back a scoff when you see Eunbin’s caller ID. You’re shocked at your complete 180 in attitude, being so used to feeling guilty and ashamed when being in Jaemin’s presence with Eunbin’s name running in your mind, but now you feel annoyed—resentful even.

“You should answer it”

“I don’t want to,” Jaemin immediately says.

“It hasn’t stopped you before” You bite back before you can stop yourself, your bitter tone catching Jaemin off guard and you sigh, closing your eyes in defeat. “I’m sorry—”

“Did she say something to you?” It was your turn to be caught off guard, your eyes snapping open to stare at Jaemin who’s hands drop to his side, head tilting to the side quizzically.

Jaemin remembered his brief encounter with Jeno during the night you left, how Jeno had brought up Eunbin’s name but Jaemin was quick to shut it down, not wanting to know anything or even hear anything about his ex-girlfriend.

But he can’t help but piece two and two together: you have been acting weird since Eunbin’s welcome home party and he’s almost certain he saw you and Eunbin together before he was pushed inside of her home by others who attended the party.

Instead of answering him like he wishes you would’ve, you look down at his phone in your hands and slide your finger across the answer button, shoving his phone in his grasp with force and collecting your belongings to leave him alone once again.

A gasp flies from your lips as you feel Jaemin’s fingers wrap around your wrist and tug you back to him, and you almost trip over your own feet if it wasn’t for his tight grip to keep you steady, staring at him in complete shock as he stares back with a unreadable expression on his face.

You hear Eunbin’s voice call out his name from the speaker: asking if he’s there, asking if he can hear her and what he’s doing, but he remains silent with his attention, yet again, focused on you and it makes your heart pound loudly in your ears.

Your thoughts ramble together, unable to even come up with a clear thought to get you out of this situation. Instead, you do what you know best.

You kiss him.

You don’t know why you kissed him, you don’t really know what brought on the urge to do so but you did. With your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers curled around the hair at the nape of his neck, chest pressed against his, you kissed him hungrily—desperately.

It’s when you feel Jaemin respond to the kiss, letting his phone drop to the ground as his hands come up to rest on your waist that you realise what you’re doing and you recoil back in shock, eyes wide as you stare between him and his phone on the ground, baffled at what you just done.

Jaemin tries to reach back out to you, to bring you back to him and to kiss you again but you refuse, muttering a small apology as you finally gather your things and leave him once again.

It’s been two weeks since Jaemin last interacted with you in the classroom.

There’s been brief moments where he encountered you with the group, but it’s obvious now when you avoid his gaze or make up some excuse to go somewhere else or that you’re busy, and Jaemin is tired.

What makes it worse is that it seems everyone else around him is knowing what's going on while he’s left alone in the dark to figure it out himself. It makes him upset, even though he’d never admit it out loud to anyone.

It makes him upset to see you avoid him so quickly, to refuse to meet up with him alone or to talk to him. He’s tried calling you, he’s tried texting you—hell, he’s even tried to talk to Haru and Miwoo who give him nothing in return but a sharp look or disappointing gaze.

He’s sick of it.

Jaemin’s not sick of you, he doesn’t think he could be ever sick of you. He’s sick of the hushed whispers he hears from the group, how they refuse to tell him what’s going on. He’s sick of the looks he gets from them whenever Eunbin makes a sudden appearance to talk to him, whether it’ll be through a phone call or in person.

He knows Eunbin’s trying to get on good terms with him, to rebuild a friendship with him while she’s back. Some part of him admires Eunbin for her efforts as Jaemin doesn’t bother giving anything back apart from some half-hearted replies or sounds of acknowledgement when she says something to him, but the other part of him is annoyed at how she can pretend that nothing ever happened and that because he forgave her for his closure, Eunbin thinks it’s fine to worm her way back into his life with his friends (who clearly hate her).

Jaemin feels conflicted. He hates awkwardness and he hates the tension, and he’s not the best when it comes to uncomfortable situations. He can, however, have his moments when it comes to other people. He doesn’t mind being confrontational if it helps the other person, but when it comes to himself he would avoid it at all costs.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud but he wants his friends to be happy and he most importantly wants you to be happy. Eunbin? He ponders her name for a moment, tongue prodding at his cheek as he stares at his blank computer screen. Eunbin is not his priority. He doesn’t really care about Eunbin’s happiness.

So why was he trying so hard to keep the peace on both ends? Jaemin grows frustrated again, trying his best to clear his thoughts as he busies himself with his computer, editing a picture he had taken of Shotaro recently but he gets distracted when he hears his phone vibrate relentlessly on his desk and he picks it up, brows pulling together as he sees the main groupchat is active.

[ 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗨'𝗦 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗔𝗥 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦 — 𝗚𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗣𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧 ]

donghyuck: sunwoos having a party tonight donghyuck: he invited all of us and said he’s got the goods covered donghyuck: i think i love him a lil

yangyang: i’m down [donghyuck hearted this message]

renjun: who the fuck changed the groupchat name.

miwoo: me❤️

renjun: change it back.

yangyang: 🗣️rare sight of renjun getting overprotective over his gf 🗣️

donghyuck: i screenshot already👍 [yangyang liked this message] [renjun disliked this message]

miwoo: haru is the only one with a big bank account tho bc she works miwoo: its fitting dont u think????

donghyuck: idkkk donghyuck: just wait until me n jeno start our onlyfans account

jeno: 🤨

yangyang: wait hyuck why not ask m e????

donghyuck: no offence but jeno would bring in the views

yangyang: you right you right

jeno: anyway jeno: im down for the party jeno: haven’t had one in a while

renjun: you had one last weekend.

yangyang: we literally hosted a party last weekend????

donghyuck: did you get so fucked up you forgot we had one last weekend???

jeno: shut up jeno: are we all going or not [yangyang, donghyuck and miwoo liked this message] jeno: what abt renjun, haru, shotaro, yn & jaemin???

miwoo: renjun goes if haru goes miwoo: and shotaro goes if renjun and haru goes [donghyuck questioned this message]

donghyuck: uh no donghyuck: shotaro goes if ME and YANG go

miwoo: idk abt that :/

shotaro: i go if you all go :)

donghyuck: i love you

haru: me and renjun can’t go tonight, we’re packing for our weekend trip

miwoo: THE FCK??? 🤨🤨🤨 miwoo: WHAT WEEKEND TRIP???? miwoo: and without me???

you: haru and renjun have planned this trip for like weeks, that’s why haru asked for more shifts at work [haru hearted this message] [renjun liked this message]

renjun: at least someone listens.

donghyuck: wait what teh fuck

miwoo: thats what im SAYING

donghyuck: what happened to group trips </3 do we not do those anymore </3

miwoo: ^ ^ ^

donghyuck: this friday is the worst friday to have ever friday [miwoo emphasised this message]

shotaro: is this our first time seeing miwoo and hyuck agree on something?? [donghyuck and miwoo disliked this message] shotaro: sorry.

yangyang: where are u guys going??

renjun: none of your business.

haru: rented out a beach house!

donghyuck: BEACH TRIPS ARE OUR THING!!!!!???

miwoo: how are me and yn going to survive without haru miwoo: i feel so lonely already </3

haru: i’ll be gone for three days…

miwoo: and??? miwoo: do u know how long that is????

yangyang: 3 days lol [miwoo disliked this message]

donghyuck: 3 days??? [miwoo disliked this message]

renjun: 3 days. [miwoo disliked this message]

miwoo: ok stfu

jeno: we’re getting side tracked. jeno: yn? jaemin? party???

you: idk you: i’ll think abt it

yangyang: thats a yes yangyang: because i’ll be dragging ur ass out

donghyuck: me too ;)

jeno: jae??

jaemin: no.

And with that, Jaemin shuts off his phone and drops it beside him on his desk, leaning back in his chair with his head in his hands, rubbing at his face in frustration as his chest tightens with an uncomfortable feeling. He hates this.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but, why are you even here right now?” Haru questions you with a quick glance over her shoulder as she restocks the vinyls, rearranging them in alphabetical order for Johnny’s liking.

She spins to face Renjun for a brief moment with a grin, holding up a vinyl with the words ‘COLOURFUL TRAUMA’ scrawled across the front in block letters and Renjun nods, opening up his little ‘misfits’ tote bag and allowing her to shove the vinyl inside for later purchase.

“Can’t I just come visit you at work?” You question back, finding offence as you frown at her. Your arms cross over your chest as you lean against a pillar, raising a brow in her direction. “Is it wrong for me to want to hang out with you?”

Renjun scoffs, “You’re so dramatic” You retaliate by throwing up your middle finger and Renjun does the same with a smile, causing Haru to give you both a pointed look, clearly unimpressed with your attitudes towards each other.

“I think you’re stalling” Haru tells you, turning back to the vinyls. “He’s not going tonight, you know. Ditch the party and actually talk to him… avoiding him isn’t going to make either of you feel better”

“I can’t bring myself to do it” You admit, staring down at your shoes in disappointment. “I don’t want to end whatever we have for my benefit… but not only do I not know how he feels about me, I have Eunbin waiting to make her move and get her second chance”

“Eunbin doesn’t deserve a second chance” Renjun says, causing you to look at him. “And honestly? I don’t think Jaemin is dumb enough to give her a second chance. At this point she’s just making a complete fool out of herself”

Your lips curl into a frown, “Doesn’t that mean technically that I’m making a complete fool out of myself too?”

Haru turns her head towards you abruptly, “What makes you say that?”

“Think about it,” You start, uncrossing your arms to count off your fingers. “I’ve fallen for him without knowing how he feels about me. I broke the most important rule we had made which, shocker, is the don't fall for each other rule. I’m practically stalling everything just so I don’t have that conversation with him and potentially lose him… I’m a fool”

“You’re just scared—”

You blink at Haru, “That makes me feel so much worse”

“It’s okay to be scared, you know” Renjun speaks this time and you’re surprised by his soft and caring tone, eyes wide as you look over at him. Renjun rolls his eyes at your expression, “I can be nice sometimes”

“Yeah, and it’s creepy” You tell him, causing Renjun to scoff and Haru to laugh at her boyfriend, patting him on the shoulder before resuming in her work. “I know it’s okay to be scared, by the way… I just hate feeling it and I want to get rid of it. I wish I could pull an Eunbin and leave on a trip”

Haru sucks through her teeth, gently whacking you on top of the head with a vinyl. “Don’t use that writing trip as an escape”

Renjun snorts at your choice of words, “Pull an Eunbin”

“It was a joke” You tell her, rubbing the top of your head despite it not actually hurting you. “I have been thinking about it though. Professor Moon asks me about it from time to time, and I still have Mr Nakamoto’s details on a note somewhere in the bottom of my bag”

“Go on the trip if it’s something you really want, but don’t go on the trip if you’re using it as an escape route to avoid Jaemin” Haru gives you a hard look and you’re a little startled, not expecting her to give you that type of expression. “You’ll be worse than Eunbin if you do that”

Renjun spares you a quick glance, “Don’t be Eunbin”

You frown at that, the thought of becoming something like her leaving an uncomfortable feeling on your chest. You regret the joke you made moments prior about pulling an Eunbin and leaving—you’d never do something like that, that would be the last thing you’d do. Jaemin would, truthfully, be one of the first people you’d tell if you decided to go on the trip, remembering how excited he was for you when you first mentioned it to him.

You wouldn’t do that to him—you wouldn’t leave without telling him, no matter what type of situation you’re both in.

“Do you want a job or something?” The sudden but familiar voice causes you to slowly turn around on your heel, eyes zoning in on Johnny who’s standing behind you with a pudding cup in hand and a spoon in the other, staring at you with a deadpan expression as he raises his spoon to his mouth.

“What?”

“You’re here all the time.” Johnny points out, the corner of his lips subtly twitching which gives you the impression he’s teasing you. “Do you want a job or something? Help organise the shelves? Be my assistant?”

“Fuck off, Johnny”

“Are you really going on a trip?” Miwoo frowns, sitting on the edge of Haru’s bed as she watches her pack her final belongings for the weekend getaway.

When Haru had finished her shift this evening, she rushed home with you to pack while you had to shower and get ready for Sunwoo’s party. (Miwoo’s orders. You didn’t feel like crossing Miwoo today.)

You’re prettied up alongside Miwoo, wearing your favourite outfit along with some silver jewellery and heavy makeup that you think definitely pulls the look in all together—you praise Miwoo for her talents. And despite not wanting to go in the first place, you have to admit that you feel much better after seeing your reflection.

“Yes, I’m really going on this trip,” Haru tells her as she’s shoving some hygiene products into her bag. “Why do you keep asking me?”

“The longest I’ve been without you is five hours,” Miwoo explains. “You’re going for three days—how am I going to cope?”

Haru snorts, “Mi—”

“No, seriously. What should I do?” Miwoo deadpans. “You’re, like, my anchor. What am I going to do?”

“It’s three days” Haru repeats to her as she places a comforting hand on Miwoo’s shoulder and gives her a warm smile. “You’ll be fine… plus, you can just call me if you want”

“Everyday?”

Haru gives her a look, “Don’t push it”

“Worth a shot” Miwoo grins before she shoots up from Haru’s bed, quickly excusing herself to retrieve something for her as she dashes out of the room. You snort at her behaviour, turning your head to look at Haru who seems a little uneasy and bothered, it makes you frown.

“Can you do me a favour?” Haru asks you before you can even get the chance to question what was wrong, but you nod anyway. “Keep an eye on Miwoo”

“I mean, I will, but,” You pause, brows pulling together. “Why?”

“She spoke to me last night about some stuff—well, she hinted towards some things about herself and about Jeno. How weird and lost she feels, how different things seem to be without having Jeno there in her life as a boyfriend” Haru explains to you quietly, keeping her voice low and glancing towards her bedroom door to make sure Miwoo wasn’t returning back yet. “Don’t get me wrong, Miwoo can be independent… but I think she also depended on Jeno a lot in some weird sense. I know that people called us the trio, but—”

“It was always Jeno and Miwoo” You finish and Haru nods with a gentle hum, confirming you were right. “I’ll keep an eye on her… I’ll try and talk to her too”

Haru laughs softly, “Good luck with that, Miwoo doesn’t open up easily”

“Found it~” Miwoo sings happily from the hallway as she comes bounding back into Haru’s room, holding something in her hand.

You watch as she excitingly hands the box over to Haru who looks at it sceptical before unwrapping the pink ribbon from around the box, sliding the top off before slamming it back on with a shocked expression, eyes wide as she stares over at Miwoo who grins.

You’re curious to know what’s inside the box, fingers itching to reach out and see why Haru had caused such a reaction but before you could even get a chance to question it, Haru’s already reacting once again.

“You’re crazy. You’re insane… how did you even find this?”

“I’ve very persuasive” Miwoo’s grin widens as she settles down on the bed beside you. “Surprisingly had a little help from Sunwoo too—He knew a few people and luckily I’m good at getting what I want”

“Miwoo…” Haru whines with a pout, dropping the box on the bed and launching herself at Miwoo who happily welcomes her with open arms, squeezing her tightly to her chest with a joyful giggle as Haru embraces her while muttering gibberish under her breath.

Feeling left out, you immediately reach for the box and take a peek inside, instantly making a noise of recognition as you see the sage green mesh dress that’s been sitting in Haru’s wishlist for a few months, knowing how badly Haru was wanting the pretty dress and even saving up for it alongside her savings for her weekend vacation away with Renjun.

You immediately awe out loud, looking over at Miwoo who is beaming with happiness, wrapping her limbs awkwardly around Haru who tries to free herself this time, pinching Miwoo’s thighs in an attempt to force her to let her go and Miwoo’s reluctantly frees her when she squeezes a little too hard.

“I want to hit you for buying this but I also want to kiss you” Miwoo immediately puckers her lips as that confession but Haru places the palm over her hand over her face. “How did you have the money to buy this? Do you realise how expensive it is?”

“I told you. Sunwoo knows people and I’m good at getting what I want” Miwoo explains as she pushes Haru’s hand away. “But if you want the full details… We all know Sunwoo’s parents are rich so they’re involved with a lot of people. When I met up with him for a smoke, he told me that one of the girls he plugs for owns a family boutique. She owed him for the last ‘service’ so I asked if I could get the dress”

“I’m pretty sure this dress costs more than Sunwoo’s goods”

“I don’t know about that…” You pitch in this time, looking between Haru and Miwoo. “Sunwoo does sell some high quality shit. That’s why he’s so popular”

Miwoo clicks her fingers at you, “Exactly”

“When I come back from vacation, I hope you realise I’m paying you everything back”

“Shut up” Miwoo scoffs, shaking her head while gently glaring at Haru before her lips curl into a smile. “You can pay me back by never leaving me again” Haru gives her a blank look to which Miwoo shrugs her shoulders innocently, the smile dropping from her face. “No, I'm serious. I get separation anxiety”

Standing in Sunwoo’s kitchen with him on your one side with Miwoo on the other wasn’t exactly in your plans for this party, nor was striking up a conversation with him as he sits upon the countertop while rolling a joint expertly between his fingers, selling them to people who strolled by and shoved money in his hands.

You almost snorted when you first witnessed him alone, emoji stickers plastered across his face and glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose and you dared to ask why he was covered in such things, only prompting an actual laugh out of you when he said some girls stuck them on his face as a thank you gift for hosting a party.

But you immediately stop laughing and stare at him unimpressed as he pulls a lips emoji sticker off his cheek to put it on your own, patting the area softly with a sluggish grin before peeling a devil emoji off his glasses and pressing it in the middle of Miwoo’s forehead, causing her to drunkenly grin as she pulls out her phone to take a picture of you three.

“You know,” Sunwoo begins as he rolls another joint, taking a quick glance at you. “As much as I love you hanging out with me right now, Eric is upstairs. He’s going to come find me soon and if you still want to ignore him, now’s your best chance to go find your friends”

“Thanks for the heads up” You tell him appreciatively, shocked that he’s even letting you know about Eric’s whereabouts. You look over at Miwoo, “I’m gonna go find Shotaro—”

“I think you should talk to him though”

Your head snaps towards him, and so does Miwoo’s.

“I’m not saying you should forgive him” Sunwoo adds as he studies your face. “I’m saying you’re going to end up spending the majority of your life trying to avoid him, making things harder and awkward for yourself. Just talk to him—tell him how he made you feel, hear whatever he has to say back, decide whether he deserves forgiveness or not and get your closure”

Closure. That word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Seeing firsthand how Jaemin’s closure has worked out between him and Eunbin, how Eunbin has easily wormed her way back into his life as if nothing happened… you don’t want to go down that path, you refuse, especially with Eric.

You can’t.

“I’ll pass” You grab your drink and leave the kitchen, pushing your way through the crowd of sweaty bodies who grind upon each other, allowing the music to take over their rhythm.

You decline when a girl from your class taps your arm to come join her and her little group, pointing to your cup to subtly tell her you want to finish your drink first and she nods, allowing you to slip by and continue on walking.

Shotaro is the first person you see and a genuine smile spreads across your lips when you see him talking with Yeji in the far corner of the room, how his cheeks bloom a slight shade of red as her hand caresses the bruise on his face, courtesy of Hyunjin’s punch.

(You even fight the urge to awe out loud when she leans over to kiss it.)

Not wanting to interrupt their moment, you venture out to find Donghyuck or Yangyang instead, maybe even Jeno if you’re lucky. But, much to your dismay, you can’t find them anywhere and you feel a little silly being left alone.

You’re starting to miss Haru and Renjun, maybe even Jaemin too.

You exhale deeply and tug your phone out of your pocket as you make your way out to the backyard, eyeing the couples that kiss in the pool and others who cannonball in, three drunk guys sitting on the sidelines scoring them.

Sitting yourself down on an empty garden chair, you sip your beer as you scroll through your phone, hearting Haru and Renjun’s posts on Instagram as they posted that they finally arrived at their destination, leaving a small comment for them to have fun and stay safe to which she, and Renjun too (shockingly), replied back with heart emojis.

You continue to scroll mindlessly, liking other posts from mutuals and you snort when seeing an old post of Yangyang but you feel your chest tighten and your amusement drop when you see a recent post of Jaemin’s, thumb hovering over the heart button.

‘Taken with my favourite polaroid’, the caption reads and you sigh softly, pressing your lips together. It’s the polaroid you bought him, the one he hasn’t stopped using since you gifted it to him.

You’d be lying if you said that the caption didn’t affect you, leaving your heart warm and fuzzy. And you’re not sure what pushed you to do it but you tap the comment section of his post, seeing a few comments from his classmates and one that leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Eunbin.

She left a smiley face emoji under the photo, a comment that wasn’t liked apart from the others and you begin to wonder if you should comment to, just to test if he would like yours but you figured that would be too toxic and silly, deciding to just heart the photo and continue scrolling but you pause when a notification from Jaemin comes up on your phone the second you heart it, causing your brows to follow as you tap his message.

jaemin: are u at the party?

you: yeah

jaemin: are u drunk?

you: tipsy you: i’ll be fine

jaemin: typing… jaemin: typing… jaemin: typing…

You gnaw at the nail of your thumb, watching the three bubbles on the screen as you wonder what he’s about to say next.

jaemin: stay safe jaemin: i’ll come get u if u need me

Your bottom lip starts to quiver, heart rate increasing as your emotions get the best of you, wanting to spill some tears at a simple and kind message. You shut off your phone, shoving it into your pocket as you bring the beer bottle up to your lips to chug, tears brimming in your eyes and making your vision blurry.

You do need him. You hate to admit it, but you do need him. More than ever. You don’t want to lose him, you don’t want to stop seeing him because of Eunbin wanting a second chance. Maybe you deserve to be a little selfish once in a while

But it dawns on you that you don’t exactly know how Jaemin feels.

The frustration soon starts to build inside you, realising how secretive and quiet Jaemin is about his feelings, how he doesn’t allow anyone to have a dip inside his head to know what he’s thinking of feeling in that given moment.

You hardly know anything about him, and that’s because he doesn’t let you.

“There you are” A familiar voice coos from behind you and you peer your head over your shoulder to see Yangyang stumbling towards you, eyes red with a dumb grin and you laugh as he pulls a vacant garden chair beside you to sit down, knocking his shoulder against yours. “I’ve been looking for you”

“Sorry” You mutter, staring down at the almost empty beer bottle in your hands. “I needed fresh air”

“Me too, it was stuffy in there” Yangyang agrees as he mindlessly drums his fingers on his thighs, staring out at the others in the pool. “You missing Haru and Renjun?”

You exhale deeply, “Very”

“Same” He hums, pressing his lips together as he takes a quick glance at you. “Are you missing Jaemin?”

“Just feels different without everyone here” You say, not wanting to jump into full details about how you really are missing Jaemin even if you don’t want to admit it out loud. “I like it when we’re all together”

Yangyang nods slowly to agree with you and silence falls upon you both for a while, basking in each others presence as you watch the other partygoers, some still flinging themselves into the pool or dancing on the well kept grass to the music that plays loudly from the speakers.

“You look pretty, by the way” Yangyang’s sudden compliment doesn’t surprise you, always have been used to this type of behaviour from him and you roll your eyes as you turn to face him, finally looking straight at him since he first arrived to sit with you and you notice the change in his features, how the grin he had falters into a frown. “Have you been crying?”

You scoff, feeling a little embarrassed. “No”

“Wow…” He gasps dramatically, reaching out to touch your face, his thumb wiping the tears that bubble in the corner of your eyes. “You’re pretty when you cry too? How the fuck is that fair? Hm?” His over the top acting has you struggling to keep your expression stoic. “I look ugly as fuck when I cry… What the hell?”

“Shut up” You crack, a laugh slipping past your lips as you swat his hand away. “Stop it”

“But you are,” Yangyang smiles, dropping his hand from your face to your lap, fingers skimming over your own. He nudges your shoulder gently, “I have this ugly picture of drunk Miwoo crying into a bowl of spaghetti if you want to see it? Surely that would make you feel better, right?”

“You’ve got to stop taking pictures of people drunk”

Yangyang shrugs his shoulders, “Blackmail. You all have photos of me too” He meets your eyes again, turning serious this time. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing—”

“Don’t lie to me” Yangyang cuts you off immediately and this time, he grabs your hand to lace your fingers in a comforting hold. “I know you too well, so don’t lie to me” He squeezes your hand gently. “Tell me”

And you do. You tell him everything.

Everything about Jaemin, everything about Eunbin—even everything about yourself and your feelings, and Yangyang listens to you so intently, concern and sadness written across his features as he nods along with your words.

Yangyang’s chest tightens as he listens to your problems, especially regarding Jaemin as he hears you admit how much you had fallen for him despite it being the number one rule. His heart breaks seeing how sad you are, how the tears threaten to spill again and he wishes he could help make you feel better, to see that smile on your face that he loves so much.

Love. That word makes him feel a little sick, his stomach swirling uncomfortably at the new and unusual feeling. He’s never loved anyone romantically before, that’s all new and foreign to him. He never expected himself to ever fall in love with someone, especially with how comfortable he is with hook-up culture and how normal is it for him.

Love is scary. It leaves his palms sweaty and he grimaces whenever there’s something romantic happening between him and someone else, which is why he always sets boundaries, boundaries that are not meant to be crossed.

But yet, when it comes to you, maybe love to Yangyang doesn’t sound so bad.

“There’s something I want to tell you…” Yangyang interrupts you, voice soft and timid. Once you look at him, you notice that he’s staring at the ground, refusing to meet your gaze as his fingers timidly place with your own. “It’s important. It’s been on my mind for a while and I… I just need to get it off my chest”

“Okay” You say, nodding your head with a smile despite the anxiety that buzzes through your veins at his unusualness. “What is it?”

“I…” Yangyang suddenly pauses, staring straight at you as you stare back at him, waiting for him to speak. He wants to do it, to tell you everything that he’s been feeling, to finally get it out into the open and be free of all the thoughts inside of his head.

Yangyang has always been honest with his feelings—blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t beat around the bush when being completely real with someone, so why is he hesitating when he comes to you?

He stares at you a little longer, noticing how red your ears are, how your makeup is slightly smudged from crying, how swollen and bitten your lips are from trying to conceal yourself from any more tears and sadness.

His shoulders sag slightly, exhaling through his nose in defeat as he grips your hand in his own. “I’m proud of you, I always have been. You’re strong and I admire that about you, and I just—” He feels his eyes burn, tears threatening to appear but he holds back with a harsh swallow. “I promise that everything will work out in the end. You’ll be happy… you deserve to be happy. Don’t let anyone, including Eunbin, ruin that for you”

Whatever you were expecting Yangyang to tell you, it definitely wasn’t that. You can’t help but stare at him in shock, taking in his words with a warmth in your chest. You feel emotional and you bite back the urge to make another fool out of yourself by crying but you’re aware of the tears that are already forming in your eyes.

“That was pretty cheesy of you” You joke, unable to hide your smile as a tear drips down your cheek. Yangyang laughs lightly and squeezes your hand once again, using his other hand to wipe the tear away and he caresses your cheek softly, and that’s when you notice the pain in his eyes.

“I love you” He whispers to you so gently that you barely hear him. “You’re my best friend, and I love you”

“I love you too” You repeat back, swatting his hands away so you could lean forwards to embrace him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his arms slide around your waist, holding you tightly to his chest with his fingers clutching the back of your dress, not wanting to let you go just yet as the tears freely spill down his cheeks, completely unbeknownst to you.

Jaemin lets out a soft grunt as he raises his arms above his head, bones cracking from the hunched over position he had held for so long over his computer, eager to finish a few photos that were left untouched in his folder, using at as an excuse to get his mind off of everything that was going on.

He keeps glancing over at his phone, wondering if you would take him up on his offer to help you if you need it, but his mood defleats more and more when it buzzes and your name doesn’t show up on the screen.

It’s Eunbin’s name that does, asking him if he went to Sunwoo’s party and if he would like to hang out if he didn’t go, wondering if they wanted to go for beers somewhere else or even get a bite to eat.

He ignored every single one, he wasn’t in the mood to do anything but work on his photos and he sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to be around drunk people, apart from you.

Jaemin sighs as he reaches for his phone, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he opens up your chat to see that you’ve left him on read, his fingers tapping anxiously against the sides of his phone.

He wonders if you’ll take him up on his offer if you need someone to come get you and he contemplates on sending another text just to let you know that he was serious about coming to get you if needed, or texting to see if you were still tipsy or getting sober.

But he decides against it when his phone pings again with another notification from Eunbin and he locks his phone, throwing it back on the desk as he runs his fingers through his hair with a frustrated sigh, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he stares at the computer screen.

Jaemin returns back to his work without another thought, wanting to focus on his main priority of getting this photo done until he hears the front door slam downstairs and his fingers hover above his mouse, listening intently to the sound of someone cursing under their breath as they trip and stumble up the staircase, heading towards the bedrooms.

He believes it’s Jeno at first, knowing how he likes to go straight up to his room after indulging himself in a few beers and shots, and fall asleep to wake up early in the morning and workout the hangover away.

But he’s surprised when the door to his own bedroom is forced open to see Yangyang standing in the hallway, swaying side to side slightly with a beer bottle in hand. He leans against the door frame to take a sip of the concoction, eyeing Jaemin who stares back unamused.

“What have you done?” Yangyang suddenly asks him and Jaemin is slightly taken back by the question, but he doesn’t show it, opting to just glare at him and he takes note of how glossy his eyes are. It makes Jaemin’s brows furrow when he realises he must’ve been crying and Jaemin bites back the urge to ask him what’s wrong. “I said, what have you done?”

“What are you talking about?” Jaemin mutters with a roll of his eyes, turning his attention back to his computer as he shakes his head. “Get out of my room if you’re going to talk about something stupid. I don’t want to hear it—”

Jaemin’s cut off by Yangyang’s dry chuckle, making him sound a little crazy. “She’s upset, you know. The last time I saw her that upset was when the Eric bullshit happened… So, what have you done?”

Jaemin’s chest tightens at the thought of you being upset, but he can’t help but frown in annoyance as he looks back at Yangyang. “What makes you think I did something wrong? She’s the one that’s been actively ignoring me this entire time, I’ve tried to get her attention and she leaves. I call her, she ignores me. I message her and she either leaves me on read or gives me blunt replies. I’m trying, Yang”

“So you think you did nothing wrong?”

“No, I just—fuck—I don’t know what I—” Jaemin’s words die down in the back of his throat when he notices Yangyang staggering towards him, feeling slightly uncomfortable and intimidated with the way he’s being looked at by him.

Never in his years of knowing Yangyang would he think he would come across as intimidating, or scary for that matter, but with Yangyang standing in front of Jaemin with his face a little too close for his liking, Jaemin has never been so uncomfortable and nervous around Yangyang in his life.

Yangyang’s hazy eyes dance over Jaemin’s face, a halfhearted laugh slipping past his lips, the stench of alcohol and weed hitting Jaemin’s nose which makes him grimace. Yangyang’s eyes swirl with anger, sadness and regret, but it doesn’t stop him from slowly raising his hand to pet Jaemin’s blonde head of hair, not even sympathetically, Yangyang was hurting him a little with his rough touch.

“Talk to Eunbin” Yangyang tells him, dropping his hand from his head to grab his phone and shove it into Jaemin’s hands.

Jaemin’s eyes narrow in on Yangyang, “What?”

“Talk to your ex-girlfriend and ask her about the conversation she had with Y/N” Yangyang knows he shouldn’t have said what he said, having promised you that he wouldn’t tell Jaemin about what happened between Eunbin and you. But he couldn’t stand back and continue watching you get hurt anymore, not when he cares about you so much. “Maybe it’ll finally knock some fucking sense into your head”

Jaemin watches wordlessly as Yangyang leaves his room, slamming the door shut behind himself as he disappears into his own room and Jaemin’s attention drops to the phone in his hands, brows pulled together in confusion at Yangyang’s demands.

But surprisingly, it doesn’t stop him from unlocking his phone to bring up Eunbin and his chat, ignoring the multiple messages she had left behind as his thumbs tap the screen, tongue prodding at his inner cheek as he presses sent.

jaemin: i want to talk to u

“Hi” Eunbin greets him with a pretty smile the next morning, gesturing to the empty seat opposite her in the Dreamies Café and Jaemin slumps down in the seat, staring across the table at Eunbin blankly. “I’m sorry about last night. I completely drank too much and sent a whole bunch of embarrassing messages to you, and then I passed out. I’m really sorry”

He wasn’t exactly thrilled about having to wait an entire night to talk to Eunbin due to the previous conversation he had with Yangyang, how questions repeatedly circled in his head and how he was desperate for answers.

It seemed that your unusual actions were because of the conversation you had with Eunbin, as he tried to ask you before in the classroom, and last night it dawned on him after his brief encounter with Yangyang how serious it must’ve been.

Jaemin just wants to get to the bottom of this.

“I bought you an iced americano, by the way” Eunbin speaks up once again, sliding the plastic cup over the table towards him with another smile. “Extra shot, just how you like it”

“Thanks” He says as his fingers curl around the cup, not in the mood to drink as his other hand fiddles with the green straw, swirling the ice around the drink.

“So,” She leans her elbows on the table, eyes sparkling. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Your conversation with Y/N at your welcoming party” Jaemin immediately answers and Eunbin’s face drops. He eyes her for a few seconds, watching how she uncomfortably shifts in her seat as she sits up straight. “What was it about?”

“Jaemin, I—”

“Don’t lie” His sharp tone surprises Eunbin. “I can’t handle being lied to right now”

“We were just talking about me,” Eunbin says softly as she fiddles with the rings that decorate her fingers, twisting the ring that should belong to him on her middle finger. He glances down at it, the pretty black gemstone taunting him and he snaps his attention back to her. “We talked about me in New York, how stupid I was for doing what I did and leaving you behind”

Jaemin fights the urge to roll his eyes, “Anything else?”

“We talked about you—your friends with benefits situation” That seems to grab Jaemin’s interest and he perks up, leaning on the table to listen closely. “I asked her what was really going on between you both and she told me the truth”

“She did?” He questions, his voice quiet this time, almost like a whisper. “What did she say?”

“That you two are just fucking”

Jaemin doesn’t know why, but his heart crumbles and a pain settles in his chest at that, throat tightening and feeling heavy, making it hard for him to swallow. He’s unable to form words or even process a thought, struggling to solve what he’s actually feeling right now.

His lips press together tightly, leaning back in his chair as he looks out of the window, trying to steady his breathing as it seems to get faster and heavier, knowing that he’s about to panic.

“Jaemin?” Eunbin calls out his name softly to grab his attention and he gives a short hum, letting her know that he’s listening. “Do you like her?”

“It doesn’t matter” He’s quick to say, this time grabbing his drink and taking a sip so he doesn’t have to talk anymore.

Eunbin watches him carefully and the guilt eats her away, a frown making its way onto her face and she realises exactly what’s going on. A wave of sadness consumes her, but it doesn’t overpower the absolute regret she’s feeling and she lets out a shaky breath, “Jaemin, this is my fault”

His eyes immediately dart towards her as he pulls the straw from between his lips, “What do you mean?”

“When I asked her about your situation, she didn’t give me an answer straight away… She only gave me an answer after explaining why I came back home and when I asked her to do something for me,” Eunbin begins, nervously staring down at her hands to avoid Jaemin’s deep gaze. “I told her I wanted a second chance with you and I asked her if she could stop being friends with benefits to see if I can get that second chance…”

Jaemin sits in silence.

“I wanted to show you how much I’ve changed and how much you mean to me” Eunbin explains as she reaches over to grab Jaemin’s hand, gripping his fingers tightly. “Even after everything that happened between us, I still cared for you—still loved you. I wasn’t ready to give that up. I wanted to be selfish and you know first hand that I’m the type of person that will fight for what I want, and I want you… Can you blame me for that?”

Eunbin’s honesty baffles Jaemin to the core, his eyes widening at her every word and he listens to her excuses. She has tears in her eyes, filled with desperation and forgiveness but Jaemin doesn’t see himself giving her what she wants, not with the pent up rage and frustration that fills him.

It had been her after all this time. Eunbin was the one that had been pulling you away from him, making demanding requests as it seems. It makes him feel sick to his stomach, knowing that all your sadness had been not only because of him, but because of Eunbin too.

Jaemin knows deep down that he hasn’t been the most innocent or helpful in this situation. He was the one that allowed Eunbin back into his life, allowing her the possibility of friendship just to keep the peace with himself. But he hurt you in the process. He hurt the one person he cares about the most.

“Jaemin?” Eunbin calls out his name once more, feeling uneasy with how he hasn’t said a word since she confessed. “Please say something”

“You…” Jaemin finally speaks up, tone a little too calm for Eunbin’s liking and she watches with wary eyes, nervously biting down on her bottom lip as the tears threaten to fall. Jaemin dryly chuckles with a shake of his head, his tongue prodding at his cheek in pure anger. “You are pathetic”

Eunbin stills, “Wh—”

“I told you. The second you showed up at my door after your trip, I told you how badly you screwed me over. I told you how shitty you made me feel,” He pauses, a laugh of disbelief slipping past his lips as he smiles. “And you think I would still give you a second chance?”

“Everyone deserves a second chance—”

“But I didn’t want to give it to you” Jaemin cuts her off, causing Eunbin to blink at him in surprise. “I spent months trying to move on from you and I was scared it wasn’t going to work, but when you came home that day and you visited me, I realised how I already did. I felt shocked seeing you, obviously, I didn’t expect you to come home. But there wasn’t a slightest part of me that was still in love with you, willing to give you another chance… it was gone”

Eunbin sucks in a deep breath, “Then what about us hanging out together after it? Did that mean nothing?”

“I was willing to give you a friendship for my selfish reasons,” Jaemin nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders. “I hate drama, especially when I’m in the middle of it. I try to avoid it as much as possible and I thought I was keeping the peace by giving you a chance for friendship… but I realised now how my selfish ways actually hurt everyone else I care about in the process. My friends don’t like you, they’re angry at you, angry at what you did and I put a weight on their shoulders in having you around all because I wanted myself to feel fine”

It’s Eunbin’s turn to be silent now, looking across the table at Jaemin in disbelief at his words.

“I got my closure with you, Eunbin. I shouldn’t have kept you around after that” Jaemin admits and suddenly, it feels like a weight has been lifted off of Jaemin’s chest and he can finally breathe, air flowing freely through his lungs.

He smiles to himself—a real smile, the most genuine one he’s given in the past few days and then he laughs, another real sound rumbling from his chest as he peaks with happiness, staring over at Eunbin with a beam as she stares back at him with sadness and guilt.

“Thank you, Eunbin” Jaemin suddenly thanks her and she looks at him confused, watching as he stands up from the table. “Thank you for helping me come to my senses”

“Wait, where are you going?” She asks him, abruptly standing up from her own chair, causing it to scrape against the ground and customers stare over at the table in curiosity.

Jaemin smiles again, shoving his hands inside his pockets. “I’m gonna go make things right”

“I miss Haru” Miwoo pouts over breakfast, stabbing her fork into her plate of scrambled eggs as she scrolls through Instagram on her phone, her pouting quickly disappearing and replaced with a look of awe as she angles the screen towards her. “She looks so pretty”

“The one she posted last night was pretty too” You add with a smile, staring at the photo. “I’m glad she’s having fun. She deserved the break”

“I wish she shoved me in her suitcase” Miwoo mumbles, pulling the phone back from you. “I would love to be anywhere but here right now”

“You and me both” You can’t help but mutter, spooning your cereal and bringing it up to your mouth for a bite, chewing softly before swallowing. “Are you okay? I mean, generally, are you okay?”

“I’m fine” She hums with a simple nod. “I think I’m fine”

“You think?”

Miwoo frowns this time, seemingly worried. “Am I not supposed to feel fine or something?”

“No, no, it’s not that” You shake your head, giving her a reassuring smile. “It’s just that I was talking to Haru before she left and she mentioned that you said some things to her, about you and Jeno” The realisation seems to hit her as her eyes widen slightly and you’re quick to reassure her once again. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, but I just want you to know that I’m here to listen to you and if you want to talk about anything, then—”

“I’m not fine” Miwoo cuts you off, voice vulnerable and honest which immediately surprises you, but you hide your shock as you nod your head slowly, wanting her to continue at her own pace. “Physically, I’m fine… but mentally, I’m not and I don’t like the feeling”

You dare to ask, “Is it about Jeno?”

“Kind of, yeah” She nods, refusing to meet your gaze as she plays with her breakfast. “I don’t know if it’s because it's my first but breakups are hard… and, as much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m struggling without Jeno. I don’t want to be with him anymore, because I know it’s not good for the both of us. It’s unhealthy, our relationship… but I feel so lost without him. I don’t really know what to do with myself”

“Miwoo…” You frown, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and she sighs, reaching up to grab your hand to hold it tightly in her grasp. You squeeze her hand, allowing her to have her moment as you both sit in silence, watching her facial expressions.

“He was my person. And even though we fought and bickered sometimes, the happy moments completely outweigh it. Jeno made me happy and now I just feel miserable” Miwoo sighs softly, chewing down on her bottom lip. “I miss being with him in a way where we joked around a lot, how we teased each other and just hung out… excluding the sex”

“Maybe you should talk to him?” You suggest, causing her to snap her attention towards you. “He’s still your friend, Miwoo. You’re both still in the group. You haven’t lost him since you broke up… he’s still there, he’ll always be there for you”

Miwoo pulls a face, “But he doesn’t talk to me that much”

“You don’t talk to him that much either. Communication is key”

Miwoo shifts in her chair to face you as she deadpans, “Funny how you give great advice but you can’t take it yourself”

“Hey” You point your fork warningly at her. “Stop turning everything on me”

“Just saying” Miwoo giggles, gently pushing your fork away from her as she sighs. “We’re a couple of girls who struggle to communicate… kinda love that for us”

“You’re insane” You snort, dropping your fork to grab your coffee and take a sip, humming at the taste. “I still think you should talk to him”

“I’ll talk to him if you talk to Jaemin” Miwoo grins at you. “I think it’s a pretty decent deal, don’t you?”

“No”

Miwoo groans as you stand up from the kitchen table, offering to clean up the dishes since she was the one that made breakfast. You hear her mumbling to herself behind you but you pay no mind, filling the sink with hot soapy water to wash the dishes and utensils, allowing yourself to think over her deal.

You would like to talk to Jaemin, somewhat. It could solve a lot of your problems, finally being able to put your real feelings towards him and lay everything out on the table. But it’s the fear of rejection that sits heavy in the back of your mind that stops you from doing anything of the sort.

So, breaking everything off with Jaemin does seem like the right thing to do, even if it leaves you miserable.

It doesn’t take you long to finish washing the dishes, drying your hands on a paper towel and excusing yourself to go to your room but you pause midway when you hear a knock on the door, peering your head over your shoulder at Miwoo as she announces that she’ll go see who it is.

You nod, but you remain still, watching as Miwoo’s figure stands at the door and looks through the peephole and the sound she makes causes you to give her a confused expression, feeling even more confused and curious when she slowly turns around with a knowing smirk on her face.

“It’s for you”

“For me?”

“Yep” She nods with a grin, pulling her phone out of her sweatpants pocket. “I think I’m going to have that talk with Jeno now”

It takes you a moment to realise what she means, your face dropping as it dawns on you, “Miwoo…”

“You got this” Miwoo reassures you as she walks on over, wrapping you up in a warm and comforting hug but your arms lay limp at your sides, unsure of what to do. “Just be honest, okay? Don’t hold back and don’t do anything stupid… communication is key, remember?”

“I can’t believe you’re using my own words against me” You mumble under your breath in disbelief and Miwoo laughs loudly, pressing her lips against your cheek in a sloppy kiss before releasing you, making her way back to the front door and yanking it open.

From her previous statement, you knew Jaemin was standing on the other side. But seeing his face in person, seeing him just a few metres in front of you, your heart thumps wildly in your chest and your palms become sweaty.

Miwoo’s greeting towards Jaemin is brief, a quick ‘hello’ with a hard look as she leaves the apartment, but not before turning around before Jaemin’s back and giving you a thumbs up, something you force yourself to bite back a curse at as you watch her disappear, leaving you and Jaemin alone for the first time in awhile.

“Can I come in?” He’s the first to break the silence, asking you in such a hopeful tone that it makes your throat tighten in panic, feeling like you’re going to be sick as your head starts to swirl so fast you’re afraid you’re going to get dizzy and faint. Jaemin takes a hesitant step forward as he sees the difference in your expression, “Are you—”

“What do you want?” You force yourself to ask, swallowing the lump in your throat and breathing steadily through your nose. You didn’t mean to sound so rude towards him and you regret it the second you see his face drop. “Just—what are you doing here?”

“I want to talk to you” He says, eyes roaming your face with his brows furrowing. “We need to talk, face to face”

You straighten your back, “What is there to talk about?”

The corner of Jaemin’s lips twitch up subtly, “I think you know what we need to talk about”

You mentally pick a fight with yourself as you nod and tell him to come in, watching as he steps inside the apartment and closes the door behind himself. You bring him over to the living room but neither of you sit, continuing to eye each other to see who cracks first and you feel the annoyance bubbling in your veins, biting down on your inner cheek as you cross your arms over your chest.

Unfortunately, it’s you who breaks first.

“Why did you start this friends with benefits situation with me in the first place?” You find yourself asking first, tone slightly harsh and Jaemin blinks at you in surprise, not expecting that to be the first thing you’d ask. You stand your ground this time. “Why, Jaemin?”

His eyes lock on yours. He makes you feel small. You hate it. “You know why”

You let out a dry laugh, “Do I?”

Jaemin shakes his head, “This isn’t what I wanted us to talk about—”

“I want to talk about it” Your finger pokes at your chest. “I want to know. I need to know”

“We started this friends with benefits situation because we missed sex. We told each other at the beginning of it all that we missed sex but didn’t want a relationship to come with it. That’s all it was, you know that” The serious tone Jaemin uses makes you feel sick once again and you couldn’t even bear to look at him, instead finding interest in something in the corner of the room, teeth biting harder down on your cheek to stop the emotions from letting loose. Jaemin’s shoulders sag as he sighs, “Can you please just look at me?”

“I don’t want to” You know you sound childish, especially with how your voice sounds and your stubbornness, but you didn’t really want to look at him, not when you’re on the verge of tears.

Jaemin exhales deeply and you hear him drag his feet across the floorboards, heading straight towards you and you take a step back but Jaemin’s too quick, already standing in front of you with his cold hands coming up to cup your face, forcing you to look at him.

“I—”

“I refuse to believe it, you know” You blurt suddenly, eyes brimming with tears that burn. “I just—I can’t believe it. Not after everything we’ve practically been through together. You believe that this was just sex? That the months we spent together, we were just two friends having sex? To fill that empty void?”

“Wait, I—”

“Do you realise that you were the one that broke the rules we had first? The rules that were supposed to keep us grounded? To not let us stray down that path of feelings? You broke two of those rules in the first week we got into this and now you’re here? Telling me that sex was all it was?”

“Baby, you’re not—”

You cut him off immediately. “Enough with that fucking name”

“Y/N—”

“You left me confused, Jaemin” You’re refusing to let him talk now but you can’t help it, your emotions and your feelings getting the complete best of you. You can’t stop yourself. “I loved what we had, it was fun, but you left me so confused. You would do things and you would say things that can be interpreted into something completely different. Then the exclusive shit happened and even though it was something I agreed to, it shouldn’t have happened. We went too far”

Jaemin’s hands slowly drop from your face as a frown slips across his, “Do you regret becoming exclusive with me?”

“Sometimes” You admit, causing him to frown deeper and you notice the look of hurt that flashes in his eyes. “This type of situation always gets messy if ‘official’ or ‘exclusive’ titles are added to it. That’s why people set boundaries, rules. But they were constantly being broken by the littlest of things you did… But don’t worry, it was me who ended up being the biggest fool out of the two of us, right?”

“What do you mean?”

You laugh half-heartedly, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter if you broke the first two rules, Jaemin. I was the idiot that broke the biggest one of all”

Jaemin stares at you now, eyes wide as he repeats with a whisper, “What do you mean?”

“Rule number three, genius” You snort out a laugh. You’re aware of how much of a lunatic you must look right now, laughing with tears sliding down your cheeks, but you can’t bring yourself to care as the emotions you’ve been trying to conceal come slipping through the cracks. “Rule number three was no feelings involved… No. Falling. In. Love”

Jaemin’s unable to gather the right words to vocalise how he’s feeling, opting to just continue staring at you which makes you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

The weight of the subtle confession has been lifted off of your chest, but with how he’s staring at you silently is making you feel worse. You don’t know if you want the ground to swallow you whole or if you want to kick Jaemin out of your apartment, to shut the door in his face and forget everything that just happened, but you know that’s not going to happen.

So, you decide to keep going. To bite the bullet. To tell him everything.

“I’ve always had some sort of feeling towards you, but I realised I fell for you when Eunbin came back. How jealous and uneasy I felt when she was around or if you were with her. I tried to make excuses for it, but every kiss you gave me—every touch—I realised that I was far too fucking deep and some stupid part of me believed for the smallest moment, you might’ve felt the same way… but nothing changed. Nothing was said. You were still acting as you always did… closed off and unreadable”

Jaemin hangs his head low in shame. He knows well enough he’s closed off and unreadable, having become the type of person that hides his emotions and feelings towards anything and everything. He feels shame for hurting you with it all, not realising the effect it could leave on you and he sighs, an apology resting on the tip of his tongue and he goes to give it to you, but you start talking again.

“Truthfully, I don’t know anything about you” You tell him, rubbing the tears off of your cheeks. “You constantly have these walls built up around you and you refuse to let anyone in… Not only that, but you refuse to show anyone your feelings. Yet again, it leaves me fucking confused. You confused me and I can’t stand not knowing anything about you, your feelings, your—”

“I appreciate the things I love” Jaemin cuts you off suddenly, causing the words to die down at the back of your throat as you stare at him in surprise. “I appreciate my family for everything they have given me. I appreciate my friends for making memories I’ll never forget. I appreciate my camera for capturing the prettiest pictures for me to see whenever I feel sad. I appreciate sunsets because the colours are warm and comforting. I appreciate coffee because it gets me through the day when I’m exhausted. I appreciate the quietness because sometimes it eases me and allows me to think clearly”

You notice how Jaemin’s breathing gets heavier and you take a cautious step forward, eyeing him as he seems like he’s starting to panic. “Jaemin…”

“And I fucking appreciate you”

You freeze. You can’t move. You can’t breathe.

The words repeat in your head, the meaning of it all, the rawness in his tone. You’ve heard it before, he’s said it to you twice already but you never knew the actual meaning behind it and now, standing in front of him, hearing him say that appreciates the things he loves, it makes your heart thump.

“I’m sorry” Jaemin whispers to you quietly. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for not being honest and real with my feelings. It scares me, it has since everything with Eunbin—but I’m at fault too, I can’t put the entire blame on her. I hold myself back and I do things for selfish reasons… but I can’t keep doing that. It hurts people around me when I do and most importantly, it hurts you. I can’t handle hurting you. You mean too much to me”

He takes a few steps forward to stand close in front of you, reaching for your hands and caressing them in his own, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles before holding them in his grasp.

“Eunbin told me everything earlier, about what she asked you to do at the party” Your brows raise in shock at that, not expecting Eunbin to be the one that confesses first. “I don’t like Eunbin. I’d never give her a second chance, ever. You’re the only person that matters to me, so… don’t give up on me yet. Don’t let me go”

You can’t help but give him a teary smile, laughing softly as you squeeze his hands, the warmth in your chest spreading, “You still want to continue as exclusive fuck buddies?”

“God, no” Jaemin laughs at that, noticing your teasing tone before he smiles gently at you. “I want to be your boyfriend”

“My boyfriend?” You grow shy, feeling a little flustered and Jaemin’s grin widens at your reaction, leaning forwards to press a soft kiss to your forehead, trailing his lips down to your cheeks and placing a few kisses there. He reaches your nose next, leaving another soft kiss on the tip before his lips brush over your own.

“I’m ready to be your boyfriend if you’re ready to have one” He whispers against your lips and you nod, wanting to close the gap between you both but Jaemin leans back slightly, shaking his head. “Ask me first. I want to hear you say it”

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Yeah” Jaemin grins happily with a nod, letting go of your hands to cup your cheeks. “Yeah, I’ll be your boyfriend”

He presses his lips to yours gently and you kiss back almost instantly, lips moving slowly against one another as you melt in his touch, your own hands coming up to rest on the nape of his neck, threading his hair through your fingers.

The kiss turns feverish in seconds, a clash of tongue and teeth, a little nibbling and groping, and you break the contact to let out a surprised yelp when Jaemin bends down to grip the back of your thighs, hoisting you up in the air and you wrap your legs around his hips so you don’t fall.

He laughs, face muffled in your chest as he blindly carries you to your bedroom, a trip he knows awfully too well that he doesn’t make any mistakes or falls even when he’s unable to see the view.

He closes your bedroom door behind himself with a simple kick of his foot before he drops you on the bed, his own body falling above yours and you laugh as he huffs, shuffling his way between your thighs with a grin.

You expected him to kiss you again, to leave you breathless and wanting him but you’re surprised when Jaemin does nothing but caress your face softly, stroking your cheek and tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb.

He’s smiling so gently at you that it makes your heart flutter, the look in his eyes causing you to shy away and look elsewhere but your attention is soon back on him when he whispers your name, leaning down to finally reconnect your lips and you immediately reciprocate, pouring all of your affection and want into the kiss as you lips move against his while your hands fist at his shirt.

Jaemin’s the first to take off his shirt and you follow shortly behind, pulling it over your head and dropping it mindlessly to the floor as Jaemin attaches his lips to your bare chest, leaving light, feathery kisses over your skin and you arch your back with a gasp, watching as he trails over your breast and down your stomach.

His touch is so oddly loving and caring it feels a little foreign, but your chest warms at the thought of him taking his time with you, cherishing this moment and drinking in every part of you.

Jaemin hooks his fingers beneath your sleep shorts and pulls them down your legs along with your panties, and you squirm at the cold air that hits, knees knocking against his side but he pays no mind, deciding to lay on his stomach between your legs.

The sight of him staring at you from his position makes you feel shy, but the arousal builds up inside of you and you lift your hips to coax him into touching you, tasting you and you clench around nothing when he leans in, expecting to feel his lips or even tongue but you whine when you feel him press open mouth kisses across your inner thighs.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” You dare to ask, leaning up on your elbows to look down at him.

He smiles, eyebrow twitching suggestively. “Just taking my time with you, baby”

Without warning, you feel his tongue slowly lap over your slit and you gasp, falling back against the bed as the tip wiggles between your folds before flicking over your clit, causing your hands to fly down to his hair and grip at the roots to ground yourself.

Jaemin seems to be enjoying the moment, moaning in your pussy and he messily slurps you up, sucking on your clit with the right amount of suction that has your body feeling electrified, a cry falling past your lips at the pleasure that swirls in the pit of your tummy.

You start roll your hips against his face, tightening your hold on his hair and Jaemin groans, the vibration on your pussy inching you closer and closer to your orgasm, and Jaemin takes it upon himself to hook one hand under your knee to push it up at an angle that helps him burying himself further in between your legs, mouthing at all the right places.

“Fuck” You curse loudly with a moan, unable to control your sounds as your orgasm builds up faster, the band in your tummy tonighting as your pussy clenches around the tip of his tongue that dips inside of you, the pressure and pleasure becoming too much for you to handle that the band snaps as you cum on his tongue.

“Good girl” Jaemin praises you softly, lapping you up eagerly as he helps ride out your orgasm, grinning as he feels your thighs tremble.

You struggle to catch your breath, dry panting as you arch your hips away from his mouth and Jaemin’s chest rumbles with a laugh, letting go of your thigh as it drops limply to the bed as he crawls up your body to kiss your lips.

You taste yourself on his tongue and you moan, returning the kiss and sucking on his tongue to which he responds by rutting his hips into yours, confined cock pressing against your inner thigh.

“Take them off” You whisper into the kiss, hands grabbing at his jeans. “Please...take them off”

“Okay” Jaemin hums, tongue intertwining with yours as his own hands reach down to pop the buttons on his jeans, awkwardly shoving them down his legs along with his boxer briefs before kicking them off to the side.

You dip your hand down between your bodies to wrap your fingers around his cock, causing him to groan between the kiss as you pump him leisurely, feeling intoxicated with the way he pants against your lips, mouth agape as his breathing gets heavier and heavier with each tug of your hand.

You guide him to your entrance, coating his cock with your arousal as you slide the tip through your folds and Jaemin deeply exhales, pressing his lips together and he cranes his head down to see you position his cock and you awaiting hole, and he pushes his hips forwards, breaching your entrance.

A strangled moan leaves your lips, having nothing of that significant size been up there in a while and Jaemin coos softly, taking your hand in his own to give it a gentle, reassuring squeeze as you both watch where you’re connected.

He sinks into you deeper as he kisses you, rolling his hips to thrust slowly, allowing your legs to wind around his waist and he brings your interlocked hands above your head, pushing them into the pillow as he gets comfortable above you.

This kiss is needy and affectionate, and each fluid roll of his hips has you seeing stars behind your closed lids, unable to control the sounds that leave your lips and Jaemin’s the same, cursing and grunting every time he bottoms out inside and you squeeze around him in return.

Your grip on his hand tightens as your stomach knots, breaking the kiss to allow yourself to breathe when you begin to struggle for oxygen, staring up at him in bliss and he’s smiling down back at you, eyes dazed and lids fluttering with every roll of his hips.

But he buries his face into the crevice of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses on your skin as the pace of his thrusts start to quicken, the wet noises of your pussy sucking in his cock fills the room along with your shameless noises of pleasure, and your free hand reaches up to grab the back of his head, threading your fingers through the roots as you nip at his shoulders.

“I’m gonna cum” You pant heavily as you feel yourself tinkering towards your second orgasm of the night.

“Me too, baby” He mumbles, groaning as your walls clamp around his cock. “Fuck, me too”

Your hand tightens around his as you reach your climax, whining as your legs tremble around his hips as the knot in your stomach loosens, cumming all over his cock. The feeling of your walls gripping him like a vice triggers his own climax and he’s moaning into your neck, releasing with long spurts that paint your insides and you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up, the warmth spreading.

He stays above you for quite some time, basking in each other's presence and collecting your breath, staring at one another with giddy smiles which causes you both to laugh.

You love being with him like this, holding him in your embrace and seeing the happiness written across his face, the love and adoration that swirls in his eyes when he looks down at you and even though it makes you feel shy, you can’t help but get addicted to it. It’s something you want to see all the time. He looks so beautiful.

“Hey…” You say softly and Jaemin hums to let you know you’ve got his attention, leaning into your palm when you rest it on his cheek. “I appreciate you”

His eyes widen a little at your words, but the smile gets bigger on his lips and he turns his head to the side to gently kiss your palm before looking back at you, honesty and tenderness within his tone as he says back, “I appreciate you too”

➤𝗘𝗣𝗜𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!” Miwoo screams as Donghyuck takes her by the arms and Yangyang by her legs as they both carry her towards the shore, threatening to throw her into the sea for her teasing jokes towards them both, neither of them backing down as they step into the water.

You laugh as you watch the scene play out, bringing the bottle up to your lips to take a sip as you rest back into Jaemin’s chest who sits behind you, his arms winding around your waist and kissing your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder, watching the trio along with you.

Haru and Renjun sit on the beach blanket beside you both, his arm thrown around her shoulder and she resting into his side, mindlessly playing with his fingers as they speak quietly to themselves about something you can’t make out.

Jeno and Shotaro are sat on the other end of the beach blanket, the former getting up to join in with the trio while the latter stays seated, capturing pictures of the chaotic moment while laughing loudly, causing you and the others to laugh along.

The foursome arrive back to the group and Miwoo flops down beside Haru, grinning happily as the others take a seat too and she grabs her beer, raising it up in the air.

“I’d like to make a very dramatic speech and if none of you are crying by the end of it, I will drown you in the sea”

“Oh here we go” Renjun groans, but the smile on his face shows how much he’s teasing.

“I just want to say that I’m proud of us. We’ve come a long way since the beginning and I’m happy we’re still here together… I don’t think I would’ve been able to become the person I am today without you guys by my side”

Donghyuck starts to playfully fake gag and Miwoo huffs, throwing her middle finger up at him and he begins to smile, returning her insult with some heart hands.

“She’s right,” Shotaro agrees, raising his own bottle and Miwoo grins. “I get happy being with you guys. I wouldn’t want it any other way”

“Shotaro” Donghyuck coos as he reaches out to pinch Shotaro’s cheeks and Yangyang throws himself at him, the pair tumbling back into the sand as they laugh.

“Also,” Miwoo starts up again, looking over at you this time. “I want to congratulate you on signing up for the writers trip you’ve been holding off for so long. You deserve to explore and write about all the places you see”

“Stop…” You chuckle, a little embarrassed under the attention and you feel Jaemin’s chest vibrate behind you as he laughs, pulling you closer to him and intertwining your hands, soothing his thumb over your knuckle. “I’m excited to go, but I’m sad to be leaving you guys”

“You’re acting like you’ll be gone forever” Yangyang says as he nudges your leg with a smile. “You’re only going for a few months”

“I know” You sigh, “I just know I’ll miss you guys”

“We also need to congratulate Haru and Renjun for taking the next step” Jeno announces as he looks at the pair. “Congratulations on moving in together”

“Finally away from you idiots” Renjun teases as he takes a sip of his drink and Haru shoulders him softly with a laugh. “Thanks, Jen”

Shotaro turns to Miwoo worryingly, “Are you going to be okay living on your own for a while?”

“Of course!” Miwoo smiles. “Y/N’s only going to be gone for a few months and I need to learn how to be independent, rely on myself for a little while”

“You know, if you need anything, you got us” Donghyuck speaks this time with a serious tone to Miwoo and she nods.

“You always got us” Jeno chimes in this time, smiling over at Miwoo who smiles back happily and knocks her beer bottle against Jeno’s who lifts his up for a cheers and your heart warms at the two.

“The sun is setting, can I take a picture of us all together?” Jaemin asks as he points to his polaroid camera that sits on top of his backpack and the group eagerly agrees, standing up quickly and moving to stand in front of the sunset.

You and Jaemin both rise from the ground and you go to stand beside Miwoo as Jaemin sets up his polaroid to take the picture and you take this moment to appreciate everything that is going on around you, how the happy smiles on everyone's faces warms your heart.

Who would’ve thought that this was the way things would turn out after everything began? It baffles you, really.

If someone told you a few months ago you’d be in a position where you’re happily with Jaemin as your boyfriend, surrounded by a strong friendship group and an upcoming writers trip, you would’ve possibly laughed, calling them stupid and unrealistic… Yet here you are, living out this moment.

You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you lean into Jaemin as he comes to stand beside you, winding his arm around your waist and pressing his lips to your temple lovingly as he whispers to you those three words.

You’re unable to stop the grin that spreads across your cheeks.

You guess it’s just The Way Life Goes.

A.N| and that's the final of twlg. this had, undoubtedly, been such a wild rollercoaster to make. this fic has brought me a mixture off all different emotions going between happiness and anger, but it's over. and bro. i'm emotional. thank you for all the support you have given this series, it's been incredible, i'll never forget it.

i appreciate you♡

©mrkis

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