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earlysunshines · 2 months ago

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love at your door

minatozaki sana x fem!reader

synopsis: you wake up on the couch to find out that it’s actually not your couch and oh my god why is your hot neighbor sitting across from you watching tv???

warnings: sana is a FLIRT ; reader is a loser ; sana is a losersexual ; pacing is iffy but it’s bc i wanted it to be short ; alcohol ; anything else i didn’t mention ; not proofread so prob spelling errors idk i wrote most on my phone

a/n: based off the time i got drunk and fell asleep in the wrong room… anyways my love for sana will NEVER DIE guess who’s BACK.

you wake up with a groan, face smushed against a cushion that's definitely not yours, and the first thing that hits you—aside from the dull pounding in your head—is the faint sound of a tv playing in the background.

slowly, you crack your eyes open, blinking against the morning light. you finally realize you’re not in your room, and the couch you're sprawled out on… also not yours.

you sit up too quickly and regret it immediately, head spinning, the room around you momentarily blurred. but then it sharpens, and your heart nearly stops when you spot her. sana, your neighbor—your gorgeous, gorgeous neighbor that you’ve been eyeing since you moved in—sitting across from you on her armchair, completely unbothered with her legs tucked underneath her, eyes fixed on the tv but clearly aware you’re awake now.

she’s holding a ceramic mug in one hand, and for some reason, that little detail makes everything so much worse.

because—how did you end up here?

you glance down at yourself and, of course, you’re still in your luigi costume from last night. the tight green tank top clings to you under the denim overalls (one strap purposely loose and falling off your shoulder because you’re desperate for attention in these trying times) which you had decided to wear in some ill-fated attempt to look “hot” while still committing to the theme. you had succeeded, at least you think, judging from the compliments you vaguely remember through the drunken haze of the halloween party. but now, under sana’s gaze, you suddenly feel a lot less confident about it.

“jesus christ,” you mutter, rubbing your temples, trying to piece together what happened. “what—”

“morning sleepy,” sana says, finally looking over at you, lips curling into a small, amused smile. “you came stumbling in after the party. i figured it was safer to let you crash here than send you back to your place like that.”

this has to be a nightmare.

her voice is casual, like this isn’t completely mortifying for you. like this isn’t the exact scenario your sleep-deprived, engineering-major brain has dreamed up in countless fleeting moments when you’ve caught glimpses of her in the hallways (well, you figured you’d be in a less embarassing scene) but now it’s real, and your heart is thudding painfully loud in your chest, and you can’t decide if you want to disappear or if you never want to leave.

(the first option might be the smartest)

you clear your throat, pushing down the urge to bury your face in your hands. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t—i didn’t mean to crash here like that. i must’ve been drunk out of my mind i— fuck, nayeon, that bitch… im sorry my friends they’re—“

“don’t worry about it,” she waves off your apology, taking a sip from her mug, her gaze briefly dipping down to your outfit before flicking back to your face. “i never knew luigi could look this good.” she adds, a smirk playing on her face that renders you weak.

you feel heat rise to your face instantly, and you’re pretty sure it’s not just the aftermath of all the alcohol you consumed last night. her words hang in the air, teasing, but there’s something else in her tone that sends a jolt through you. something that makes you suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed you feel, the snug fit of the tank top and the way her eyes had lingered on your exposed skin just for a second.

“uh—” you start, but your voice comes out strained, so you clear your throat again, scrambling for a response. “thank you…?”

she grins at your awkwardness, a soft, almost mischievous smile that only adds to the rising tension in the room. “you’re welcome.”

you force a laugh, trying to ignore the way her gaze makes your skin tingle. “right, well… thanks for, uh, taking care of me. and not letting me do something even more embarrassing.”

“more embarrassing than this?” sana raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your discomfort. she gestures toward your outfit with a nod, and you can’t help but huff a laugh this time, the tension breaking just a little.

“point taken,” you mutter, swinging your legs off the couch to stand, only for a wave of dizziness to hit. sana’s on her feet in a second, steadying you with a hand on your arm, her touch gentle but firm.

“easy,” she murmurs, and you freeze, suddenly way too aware of how close she is. her hand lingers just a second too long, and when she finally lets go, you feel like you can breathe again—but it doesn’t stop your pulse from racing.

her eyes dart down to the base of your neck and the intensity of her gaze is amplified.

“quite a hickey, huh?”

“what?” you had to be drunk drunk. you can’t recall anything about kissing girls, you’re not the type to be like that when under the influence. “that’s— i can’t even remember.”

“had fun, didn’t you?” sana looks back into your eyes, making you shrink despite her smaller frame. you feel sorry, you want to apologize for something you can’t even remember—you have no clue why. she’s just your neighbor. she’s the neighbor down the hall that greeted you kindly when you had moved in to town. the same neighbor that you had to blink multiple times at before realizing she’s not a fairytale princess that’s creeped out of the books.

you glance at the door, needing an escape, even though a very large part of you doesn’t want to leave just yet. but standing in her living room in yesterday’s clothes with your head still buzzing is doing nothing for your nerves.

“i should, uh, probably go,” you say, pointing vaguely toward the door.

sana steps back, giving you space, but her expression shifts into something playful as she watches you. “right. but hey—if you ever need a place to crash again, my couch is always open.”

you blink, not sure if she’s joking or if there’s more to that offer. but before you can overthink it, you nod, mumbling a quick, “thanks, i’ll keep that in mind,” before heading for the door.

and just as you’re about to step out, sana calls after you, her voice teasing, warm. “hey, luigi.”

you pause, turning to look at her.

she leans casually against the doorframe, eyes glinting with that same playfulness, and she gives you a slow, once-over before her lips curve into a smirk. “seriously. never knew luigi could be this hot.”

your heart stutters in your chest, and all you can do is laugh, a nervous, breathless sound, before quickly slipping out the door, your mind buzzing as you head back to your place.

sana always caught your eye, but now… now you’re pretty sure you’re never going to stop thinking about her.

—

the whole day you’re quite literally losing your mind. as soon as you crash onto your bed when you get back home, you cringe at how much of an idiot you are, and at the fact that you accepted every single drink handed to you by nayeon.

and then the next day, you’re still replaying the entire morning in your head—how sana’s words lingered, the way her eyes had flickered over you with that teasing smile. it’s been driving you to distraction all day. you couldn’t focus during class, barely heard a word your professor said, and by the time your last lecture ends, you’ve come to a decision.

you’re going to do something about it.

(you’re undeniably an idiot, but everyone in your circle knows that anyway.)

so after class, you stop by the small flower shop near campus. it’s not something you’d typically do—flowers and chocolate, that’s so cliché, right? but somehow it feels like the right move. sana had caught you completely off guard yesterday, and maybe it’s time you do the same.

you have a small conversation with the florist, who recommends her favorite assortment of tulips. you don’t want to do too much, so you settle with yellow tulips, their petals delicate and bright. simple, but thoughtful (you hope).

next, you pick out a small box of chocolates, nothing fancy but enough to show you’ve put some real thought into this. because somehow, leaving things the way they were feels unfinished.

you can’t possibly just leave it like that, you can’t have the only real memory and meaningful interaction between you and sana consist of you flat out drunk and at a loss for words.

you’re already a loser as it is, and especially when sana is around—whether that’s when you two both end up at the mailbox together, with you losing the ability to speak when she simply smiles and compliments you; and also the simple greetings when you two arrive at around the same time on wednesday’s and thursdays (not that you take note of it—you definitely do).

when you get home, you scribble out a short note on a small card:

hi sana,

thanks for letting me crash on your couch yesterday. i’m really, really sorry.

here’s a little something as a thank you. hope you like tulips.

and chocolate.

– luigi

you read it over twice, fighting the nervous energy bubbling up inside you. it’s playful, casual, but maybe—hopefully—it’ll make her smile. you take the flowers, chocolates, and the note, placing everything neatly in a small brown paper bag before heading down the hall.

when you reach her doorstep, your heart is pounding. you place the bag gently on the ground, adjusting the flowers one last time so they look perfect. then, you take a deep breath and knock, firm but quick, before spinning on your heel and rushing back to your own place.

you barely make it through the door before the nerves fully hit. your heart races, and you lean back against the door, letting out a heavy breath. what if she doesn’t like it? what if it’s too much?

but before your thoughts spiral too far, you hear the faint sound of her door opening down the hall, followed by the quiet shuffle of her picking up the bag.

there’s silence for a bit before you hear the door close again, earning a sigh of relief.

if your friends were to find out literally everything that had happened in the span of less than forty-eight hours, they’d tease you until you had to move out again.

—

the next night, you’re at your desk, buried in the engineering assignment youve been given that same day. something about fluid dynamics, a dense problem set that has you scribbling equations and checking graphs on your laptop. it’s not exactly easy to focus—your mind keeps wandering back to sana, the flowers, the chocolates, and really just everything about her. every time you think about her, a small smile tugs at your lips, despite the headache that’s building from the workload.

then, out of nowhere, you hear a knock at the door.

you blink, glancing at the clock. you’re not expecting anyone, and for a second, you wonder if you imagined it. but when the knock repeats, you push your chair back, setting aside your notes. still a little distracted by the assignment, you take your time getting up, stretching briefly before finally heading to the door.

when you open it, there’s no one there. just silence, the hallway empty. but as you glance down, you spot something on the floor—a folded piece of paper. your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but grin as you bend down to pick it up, already knowing who it’s from.

you unfold the note, and sana’s handwriting greets you:

so, you’re kinda cute even in that luigi costume—i couldn’t stop thinking about you

(i think you’re cute in uniform and not)

though i have to ask—what’s with the hickey? did luigi have a little too much fun? ;)

anyway, i liked the flowers. i liked the chocolates too.

but i think i like the person giving them more.

you should come over in five minutes if you’re not too shy. i mean, you weren’t that shy the other night ;)

– sana <3

your face heats up instantly as you read the hickey line, hand instinctively reaching to touch your neck. there’s no way, right? you don’t remember—

then it hits you. fuck. it wasn’t a hickey. nayeon had bullied you about how you ran into something that night at her party, some broom? wall? maybe momo elbowed you? or something. you’re not the type to just fuck random girls, not when you’re loyal to your neighbor that you utter maybe three sentences a week to if you’re lucky. but the thought of what had happened that night isn’t even important because now your mind’s racing, thinking about how sana’s teasing you. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you all giddy and nervous.

you reread the note, feeling that familiar nervous excitement grow. come over in five minutes if you’re not too shy. your pulse picks up. there’s no way you’re saying no to that.

without bothering to change out of your hoodie and sweats, you grab your keys, locking the door behind you as you head down the hall. your heart’s still racing, and your mind’s swirling with a mix of nerves and anticipation as you stop in front of sana’s door.

when she opens it, she’s standing there with that same playful smirk—sultry, seductive, and somehow so cute at the same time. her eyes gleam like she already knows exactly what’s going through your mind.

"took you long enough," she says, stepping aside to let you in, her voice warm, teasing. "for a second, i thought you’d be too shy to show up."

you huff a laugh, shaking your head as you walk inside, glancing around her apartment again. “i’m– i’m not.” it sounds unconvincing, but the woman in front of you thinks it’s adorable.

she quirks a brow, then smiles at that, closing the door behind you. "good to know." she says, handing you a small glass of wine and suddenly everything is a little bit too intimate.

the two of you end up sitting on her couch, the tv still softly playing in the background like it had been the other morning. the conversation flows easily—there’s that natural comfort between you now, even with the teasing tension that lingers under the surface.

she talks about herself and you talk about yourself too, piquing both your interests. small talk grows into something bigger and you two enjoy the newfound information you’re both learning about each other. you’re breaking the ice, maybe easing into the cold waters in comparison to splashing into it.

“so, about that hickey,” she says, leaning back into the couch, her grin widening as she glances pointedly at your neck. her leg crosses over the other and she holds the glass in her hand near her lips, a small smirk tugging at one corner. “i’m just saying, it looks a little suspicious.”

you roll your eyes, your face heating up again. “it’s not a hickey. i swear.”

“uh-huh,” she teases, clearly not letting it go. “sure it’s not.”

“apparently i hit a broom or wall—something like that.” you shake your head, laughing lightly, but there’s an undeniable pull between you two.

the way she looks at you, the way her smile lingers a little too long, and the way her knee brushes against yours every now and then—you have to hold yourself back from saying and doing a lot of things. it’s in the way her voice lowers when she speaks, soft and reeling.

you spend the next hour just talking, laughing, sharing random stories about classes, her teasing you about your engineering homework, and you teasing her back about her terrible taste in tv shows. every time she smiles or laughs, it feels like a small victory, something you want to keep chasing. and every time you speak her eyes are in deep contact with yours, spiking your heartrate without fail.

eventually, the conversation lulls, and there’s a moment of quiet where she looks at you, her eyes softening just slightly. “you know,” she murmurs, “i’m really glad you came over. this… was nice.”

“yeah,” you say, smiling back, your heart racing in your chest. “it was.”

“i always thought you were really cute,” she says before sipping on her white wine, “but i’m not a chaser.”

“is that right?”

“unless you count me responding to your apology, then yes.”

you laugh, setting the empty glass down.

“well,” you begin, biting your lip. “i like to pursue.”

“quite forward isn’t it?”

“you invited me over for wine, it doesn’t get more forward than what you’ve brought to the table.”

“is that so?” sana hums, tilting her head. she bites the inside of her lip, looking at you with narrowed eyes. “i think it can get more forward.”

your breath hitches in the slightest and you can tell sana’s noticed when she lets out that signature chuckle.

“well, i think it’s time to end the night. you were working on assignments prior, no?” you frown at the suggestion.

“i— yeah, you’re right.”

there’s a knowing smile on her lips, but you ignore it and stand up with her as she walks you to her door.

“i had a great time pretty girl,” she puts her hand on your forearm while saying it, her touch burning your skin. “hopefully we can be much more forward next time.”

you laugh. “i like the sound of that.”

“mhm, goodnight.” she says, grinning at you before meekly closing her door.

you purse your lips before walking down the hall and reaching your door. your hand lingers on the doorknob before you turn it and head in, feeling a sense of regret.

…

sana hears a knock at her door ten minutes later, turning off the sink and drying her hands before walking over to see what’s up.

the moment the door opens and sana sees you standing there, the look on her face is priceless.

“what—” she starts, raising an eyebrow, clearly confused, but before she can finish, you step forward, your hand reaching out to grab her forearm gently. you pull her just a little closer, your heart pounding as you look at her.

“i want to be more forward,” you admit, voice low, the question hanging in the space between you.

for a second, she just stares at you, wide-eyed, before a soft laugh escapes her. she gets it now. “oh, we’re moving pretty fast, aren’t we?” she teases, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “take me out to dinner.”

you grin, and she hesitates for a beat, but then she nods, and it’s enough—enough to send your pulse racing, enough for you to lean in. before you can close the distance, though, her hand comes up, fingers lightly brushing the base of your neck, and you feel her shiver as she touches you.

“you say that like,” you pause, observing the surprise and allure in her features. “like you didn’t eye-fuck me the other night.”

her cheeks flush as her fingers linger on your skin, and you catch the way she bites her lip, trying to hide her own smile. you don’t wait any longer.

you lean in and meet her lips with yours, melting into it just as she does.

it starts soft, just a gentle press of your lips against hers, but it quickly deepens as sana lets out a quiet, surprised sound that turns into something more—something she’s clearly enjoying a little too much. her hand moves to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, and the way she kisses you back sends a thrill through you.

before you know it, she’s dragging you inside, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other guiding you back toward the couch. the door closes behind you, but you barely notice, too focused on the way her lips move against yours.

when you finally pull back for air, she’s breathless, grinning like she’s just won something. “you should’ve been this forward earlier,” she teases, her thumb brushing against the side of your neck.

“yeah?” you ask, a little breathless yourself, but you can’t stop smiling.

“yeah,” she murmurs, eyes flickering down to your lips before she leans in again, kissing you slower this time, savoring it. sana is a great kisser, the type of kisser that leaves you wanting more and more. after a moment, she pulls back, just enough to whisper, “maybe you should stay a little longer.”

you can’t help but laugh softly. “you sure you can handle that?”

“please,” she says, eyes twinkling with that familiar mischievous look. “you weren’t that shy the other night.”

“well i was drunk and—“

before you can even finish your response, she’s kissing you again, and this time, you’re more than happy to let her pull you even closer.

#kpop x reader #sana x reader #twice x reader #twice imagines #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana x reader

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urlocal-limitesshbic · 16 days ago

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*.˗ˏˋ DEILD- The Quickest And Easiest Method To Lucid Dream That I know ´ˎ˗.*

Listennnn, I love the lucid dream method down. It is AND ALWAYS WILL BE my favorite way to shift, apart from the void state.

BUT I know I cannot be the only one struggling to get lucid😩😭 At least I used to struggle before I found DEILD. I found other techniques tedious, having to do constant reality checks during the day felt like a chore and lying completely still in bed for 30+ minutes waiting for my body to fall asleep was quite literally torture to me. IF I could stay awake through it because most times I couldn’t or just rolled over and gave up because nothing was happening and I was très uncomfortable.

I’ve tried mild, SSILD, fild, ALL THE “ILDS” every single one and while they are effective, I’ve finally found the technique that works best for me and takes the least amount of time so I thought I would share, just in case it may help someone else!

With this technique you…..

Go from being awake directly into a lucid dream without falling asleep (this is called a wake initiated lucid dream and in my experience I feel more aware and in control with these vs when I randomly become aware in the middle of my dream. They are also easier to remember if you have poor dream recall. )

Are able to start the lucid dream scene in the privacy of your own room so you don’t have to worry about trying to shift in the middle of distracting dream scenes or dealing with distracting dream characters

You can save a Lucid dream that’s been cut short or even have several lucid dreams in one night using this method

Don’t need to do reality checks during the day if you don’t want to or do any other daytime prep

The whole thing takes 10-30 seconds START TO FINISH!

The technique…

*.˗ˏˋ DEILD ´ˎ˗.*

Dream Exit Initiated Lucid dream

Steps…

Before bed set the intention that when you wake up you will immediately remember to perform DEILD

Set a touchless alarm to wake you up anywhere from 3-6 hours after falling asleep. I like this one! Maybe put it in a playlist with a lucid dreaming subliminal or theta waves set to play after the alarm goes off to boost your chances of becoming Lucid🌙

Go to bed as normal. As I fall asleep I like to imagine myself waking up to the alarm and successfully performing DEILD. Then I imagine myself successfully entering the void from the LD and then successfully waking up in my wr. I loop this sequence until I fall asleep. I do this to help me remember to do the technique the second I wake up, but it is not at all necessary.

Immediately upon waking and hearing the alarm, I try to remember to stay still and not open my eyes. Minimal movement is fine, but we’re trying to convince our body that we’re still asleep! The alarm will shut off on its own.

Wait for what feels like 10 seconds without actually counting (Again, you don’t want to activate your Brain and wake yourself up too much )

After it feels like 10 seconds have gone by, do a reality check like the nose pinch test EVEN IF YOU FEEL WIDE AWAKE and don’t think you could possibly already be back asleep in only 10 seconds. Most of the time you’ll already be in what is called a false awakening-when you think you’re awake in bed but you’re actually dreaming

If you were able to breathe through your closed nose you are now in a lucid dream starting out in your room. You can proceed to shift to your dr in any way you like-some of my go to’s are:

-creating a portal

-entering the void and shifting from there

-entering the astral realm and shifting from there

-waking myself up from the dream but intending to wake up in my dr not my cr

Editors note:

If when you do the nose pinch test, you are still awake, repeat step 6 up to 2 more times. If by this point, you still have not entered a lucid dream, it is best to go back to bed and try again the next time you wake up. This method is very effective but fragile, as it is best performed in that very small hypnopompic window right when you are teetering on the edge of awake and asleep.

Why this method works…

When you wake up from sleep and don’t move or open your eyes, it tricks your body into thinking that you’re still asleep and it puts you back in a dream, even though your mind is actually awake! This is why a touchless alarm is helpful, or you can use natural awakenings.

Troubleshooting the method…

The hardest part about this method is remembering to stay still as soon as you wake up.

You can set the intention to remember to do so before bed

You can also use prospective memory training during the day (every time you look in a mirror/ drink something/ plug in your phone/ enter a different room etc you can affirm “the next time I wake up I will immediately remember to perform DEILD” )

And if you move by mistake or have to use an alarm that needs manually turned off, all is not necessarily lost. it’s still worth trying anyway as long as you think you’ll be able to fall back asleep! Just wait 30 seconds instead of 10 before doing a reality check and consider using an anchor to help keep you focused and awake (could be focusing on the sound of the subliminal if you made a playlist, or the sound of a fan etc)

TLDR OF THE TECHNIQUE:

Wake up either naturally or to a touch-less alarm. If you must use a manual alarm, keep movement minimal as to not activate your brain too much.

Lie still with your eyes closed and keep a blank mind for 10-30 seconds

Do a reality check to see if you are lucid dreaming

Shift from the lucid dream

Videos explaining the technique….

“Use this simple technique for more lucid dreams. Please.” -Tiger123

“Lucid dreaming techniques shouldn’t be this easy!” - Daniel Love

“Dream exit induced lucid dreams-DEILD tutorial”- Tipharot

#reality shifting #shifting #lucid dream method #lucid dreaming #shiftblr #desired reality #law of assumption #waiting room #void state #void #astral projection #lucid dream shifting #lucid dreams

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interstellarrisa · 6 months ago

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Some subconscious fun

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You might've heard people saying that are our brain is amazing and capable of astounding things and well they're not wrong. Your brain is the most complex organ in the body with billions of neurons that have trillions of connections called synapses that makes it able to communicate, with this information how can we say that it's not amazing?

Our consciousness is thought to sit at the cerebral cortex and is said to have three levels to it. The conscious, subconscious and unconscious. They're all tasked with different things. I'll explain them all...

The conscious: This is the part that we have control over, our thoughts, feelings, decisions and acknowledgement are all made here. It's what you're using right now to read this post and also where the awareness of you reading this post is. Basically thoughts, feelings and awareness.

The subconscious: It's not in the current focus of our awareness hence called the subconscious mind. It's a barrier that's put up by our mind so that we don't become overwhelmed by all the information that we get when we interact with this world. For example our nose in the center of our vision, the feeling of our clothes or our tongue resting on the roof of our mouth. Because of this barrier we're allowed to focus our awareness on more important decision making and cognitive tasks without getting overwhelmed. This can be noticed when we decide (conscious) to pick up a new skill which can be hard to learn and do before we become a natural at it which then makes it an automatic (subconscious) skill.

The unconscious: It's perhaps the most mysterious form of consciousness since it's not available for introspection or analysis. We do know that it's a hoard of feelings, thoughts and memories lost from our conscious mind, it contains the painful past that we might simply want to forget about. Some people say that we never forget and that it just get's buried deep down within our mind and with the right signals we can recover the forgotten memories.

Now to the fun part. It's a small "experiment" that you can do every night just to see how amazing your subconscious mind truly is. Firstly I haven't found any article's stating that this is your subconscious minds doing, some say it might be your circadian rhythm (internal body clock) but I personally assume that it's your subconscious and if you know loa let's just go with it.

The experiment is you controlling when you wake up. You might go "really, that's it?" but when you first do it and it works it'll feel a bit 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, anyways here's what to do.

Go to bed. Doesn't need to be nighttime you just need to go to sleep for this.

While falling asleep tell yourself that you'll wake up in xxx hours/minutes. For example you go to bed at 00:00 and want to wake up in 8 hours, naturally that would be 08:00 so just affirm "I will wake up in 8 hours." or "I will wake up at 08:00"

Drift off to sleep~

Wake up and check the time and it should be the designated time.

This is actually a technique used a lot in lucid dreaming method's and could also be used in shifting/manifesting/void method's. Since the brain is just like a sponge when you wake up it absorbs any kind of information presented it with and sometimes induces "hallucinations". I'd recommend shorting the time you sleep if you're gonna use it as a method though. It's also pretty similar if not the same to SATS.

This has worked for me on multiple occasions and if you wake up and the time doesn't match when you wanted to wake up it might be because you already woke up earlier and just went back to sleep and forgot about it later, happened with me a few times but because of signals I remembered. I even got rid of my alarm for school because of this and I still woke up in time for school.

warning: if this post does NOT resonate with you or your beliefs feel free to ignore it, you don't need to send hate or make posts on how stupid this is or that it's wrong. some might misunderstand this post (like the last one) and make misguided comments, please think a little before you open your mouth :). yapping session is cause i'm really interested in this topic lol.

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bagerfluff · 6 months ago

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Catboy Casper Headcanons - SFW/NSFW

hmmmm. Catboy!Casper, doing holy and unholy things to my brain

if you have any more headcanons feel free to reblog and had them. And if you want me to write a drabble or fic about one of these headcanons just ask

SFW

Catboy!Casper being the prettiest thing ever. I mean look at this. With his white ears and tail that match his hair. Tail slightly fluffy and ears just a little more fluffy.

Catboy!Casper being able to turn into a white cat with red eyes. Him sitting in your lap while you work. Cuddling up with your pet. Follow you when you leave. Imagine you look out a window or look down an alley way just to see red eyed cat looking at you

Catboy!Casper pushing his head up into your hand as you pet him. A small blush on his face as you play with his hair. Fingers running near the base of his ears, sometimes rubbing the backs of them

Catboy!Casper looking extra cute when he blushes with his ears pressed against his head and tail slowly swaying back and forth.

Catboy!Casper purring when he's comfortable. Purring when you hold him, purring when you kiss him, purring in his sleep cause he dreams of you.

Catboy!Casper pouting when you get home late. Ears flat on his head, arms crossed, tail still on the bed. Azrael in his arms, face buried on top of Azrael's head. It bringing him comfort as he waits for you. Ear's perking up when he hears the door open.

Catboy!Casper being hyper aware. His ears perk up at any sound outside the door, wondering if it's you. Him getting up just a few minutes after you. Hearing you get up and not smelling you near him anymore.

Catboy!Casper running up to you to hug you when you get home. Head resting on your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. Displeased that you smell like other people. Ears perked up to listen to your voice, it being music to his ears. Tail wrapping around your leg, you were his.

Catboy!Casper curling up on your bed. Sleeping like an cat surrounded by your sent and sometimes even held in your arms. Azrael in his arms as he falls asleep content.

Catboy!Casper blushing at simple pet names like kitten. He'll try to deny it but he loves that pet name. Not like he can hide it anyway. His tail wags every time you call him that.

Catboy!Casper being scared of loud noises. He doesn't jump or scream, but he hissing and will scratch the nearest thing if he's scared. He won't admit it, but he really wants to cuddle you when he's scare. Which means it's up to you to cuddle him.

Catboy!Casper and his canines, Two sharp teeth on his top jaw. They look good but hurt when you kiss him. They leave two red dots when Casper lightly bites you. You love them though.

NSFW

Catboy!Casper and his pussy. He's a cat, of course he has one.

Catboy!Casper arching his back like a cat while you fuck him from behind. Tail wrapping around your leg to keep you there.

Catboy!Casper being extra needy in his heat. Always wanting to be fucked and whining when you don't fuck him.

Catboy!Casper fucking himself with a dildo when your at work. Just for you to come one early and see him bouncing up and down on it in your bed.

Catboy!Casper with his ears pinned to his head and tail constantly moving. Sometimes his tail curls forward to rub his dick.

Catboy!Casper begging for you to breed him. Cum in him. Give him your children. Despite what he says he would be a great dad.

Catboy!Casper making the cutest noises when toy fuck him. He whines and moans so loud that your neighbors definitely know what's happening. Not that you or Casper care.

Catboy!Casper loving praise and degradation. Call him your pretty little whore. Your perfect slut. The best kitten to breed. He'll melt and moan even louder then before.

Catboy!Casper finally getting his fill and falling against the bed. Tail still wrapped around your leg as you kiss his forehead. Casper expects that best after care and you don't mind, anything for your kitten.

Catboy!Casper and his sharp canines. Again with this. He loves to bite you when you fuck him. Most of the time drawing blood from the bite. He'll then lick the blood and admire the wounds he left on you. You don't mind that either.

657 notes · View notes

jarofstyles · 1 year ago

Text

Baby, It's Cold Outside

So basically this was meant to be a shorty, but it turned into almost 9k of cuteness and smut. So happy holidays, my loves! Here is some friends to lovers cuteness and filth <3

Check out our Patreon for over 100 exclusive writings!

Warnings: Smut

WC- around 9k

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

Y/N hadn’t meant to fall asleep on Harry’s couch. Honest.

But anyone who had the pleasure of sitting on the cloud like crimson couch could tell you, it was hard to get out of it once you were in. Harry had to answer some business emails, of course, because as much as she liked her friend, she was well aware he was a workaholic. Lawyer by day, and by night. He had invited a few people over for a movie night but Y/N was the only one who was free- but it was fine. It meant more popcorn and pizza for them anyways- and he had been a doll and ordered her the BBQ Chicken pizza on a flat crust. She got it all to herself as they watched the original claymation of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, which was a classic if you asked her. Her stomach full, she still picked at some of the M&M’s and tried to ignore the little jump her heart gave when their hands brushed. Their thighs had already been knocking together and Y/N had been trying to talk some sense into herself considering she knew there was no meaning to it. He sat close to her so they could both reach the popcorn and share the candies! He kept the bowl balanced on his thigh so she could reach over and get it. Duh.

But after their second movie, Elf, his phone began to ping. Why, Y/N didn’t know. It was literally 9 in the evening, there was no reason to do so, but when Harry asked if she was okay with him stepping away for a few moments to answer some things in his office, she didn’t make a fuss. No, she continued watching albeit with a slightly heavier heart when 30 minutes had passed and he hadn’t reappeared- but that was neither here nor there.

She can’t remember doing it, burying her face in the pillow that he had been using and curling up into a little ball on his couch, snoozing away. The warmth of his home was welcoming, and she was vaguely aware that the wind had picked up outside- but she fell asleep shortly after. Firmly planted in dreamland where she was picking blueberries for a pie in the summer. Why that exact dream, she wasn’t sure. What she did know is that she stirred to the feeling of a warm hand stroking her head, soft whispers of her name coaxing her from the impromptu nap.

“Y/N?” He murmured, sitting next to her with a furrowed brow. Her eyes peeled open and blinked sleepily at him, confusion written in them as she looked over his face and the fact that the TV had the ‘are you still watching?’ notification on the screen. “Hey, sleepy girl.” He smiled slightly before it dropped. Her heart fluttered in her chest from the close proximity and fondness in his tone. “M’so fucking sorry. Time got away from me and before I knew it I was up there for an hour and a half- and m’a shit friend.” He frowned, unaware of the tantrum Y/N’s stomach was throwing from his hand resting on the side of her head. His thumb was brushing right before her ear, the slight sound tickling a part of her brain she hadn’t even known existed. He made her so nervous.

“Oh.” She said quietly, unsure how to reply. It kind of sucked that he had spent their movie night tucked in his office. Y/N didn’t get to spend a lot of time with Harry lately, his workload picking up, and she had been going on about how good it was to see him for once. The lighthearted teasing held a semblance of truth and Harry could tell, which made him feel pretty shit right now when he saw the slight dejection on his face. If only she knew.

“I know. M’sorry.” He whispered. “But uh….” his eyes strayed to the window. “We’ve got a bigger problem now.”

This had Y/N sitting up, silently mourning the loss of his hand that had flexed slightly as it fell back to the couch. “What do you mean?” Her nerves shot up, turning to look at the window as well. It was significantly cooler in the house now, her arms erupting in chills as her blanket fell from her shoulders as she got up to look. She’d seen a peek of white, but she hadn’t been prepared to see the truth outside. The blur of snow, piling up high and showing no sign of stopping. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, cursing under her breath. She’d gotten an uber here, but there was no way in hell any would be out right now. “Fuck.” Her tone was a soft groan, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. “There’s no way I can get a ride home now.”

“I know.” Harry said back. “But it’s a good thing I’ve got lots of blankets, yeah?” He didn’t want to admit to her that there was something in him that was almost excited that she would be trapped here with him. That the reason everyone else had canceled was the weather, apparently, that neither of them looked into until Harry had checked his phone just moments before waking her up. It was going to snow all night, and all day. Y/N was stuck here, and he didn’t know for how long.

“Are you sure?” Nibbling her bottom lip, Y/N worried. She didn’t want to be a pain but there was no way she was walking home in this. No way Harry would ever let her either- and it wasn’t like she could ask him to drive her, it wouldn’t be safe. There was no other option other than staying.

“Course I am. Are you kidding?” He scoffed. “We can just continue watching. I really am sorry- we’ve got this case, the wife is trying to take half the assets.” He moved towards the couch and began to move things back to neaten it up. “We were trying to negotiate but then the PI that the husband hired found the proof of her infidelity, so it changed the case structure completely. I got in my own head, and I apologize.” It was obvious he actually felt really bad about it. Harry was passionate about his job, working with personal injury, divorce, and estate law. It made sense to her considering he was a busybody, and apparently could argue with anyone about anything- she’d seen it first hand with a tipsy Harry and Niall at karaoke night, arguing over the perfect color for those little drink umbrellas.

“It’s okay, Harry.” She smiled softly. “I wish I could find something to be as passionate about and make my job. M’just stuck at the cafe for now.” She joked. The cafe was fine, she liked her coworkers, but there was no passion there. She did her job, collected her money and went home.

“You will, love. It’s never too late.” He was always encouraging of her going after her dreams, especially over one drunken conversation about wishing she could do art full time- but Y/N was a realistic person and she had real rent to pay. Being a no-one in the art field would lead to ‘exposure’ work and exposure didn’t pay the bills. She needed to work on it but she was always so tired after work- eventually she would get there, but it was nice to know that someone believed in her. One of her paintings hung over his fireplace, actually, making her smile every time she came over. She painted his cat for his birthday, which had actually made him tear up. That had gotten her a very long hug and a solid appreciation for how muscular he was.

Y/N decided to help him out, readjusting the blankets and pillows as he brought the now cold pizza and treats into the kitchen. It was then that it hit her- she was going to spend the night at his house, and possibly the whole day tomorrow. Snowed in at Harry’s House. He was pretty choosy about the people that came over, citing that ‘his home is his sanctuary and he needs to protect it’, which she sort of liked. When she was in college, she had opened her home up for a bit for the parties and decided that she wasn’t a fan of a lot of people in her space either, so knowing he felt similar made her feel special.

“Okay.” He brought out the hard cider. “I’ve got the holiday version and the regular. Both are good, the holiday version is a bit more cinnamon-y.” He held up the bottles, teetering them in his hands. “Which would you like?”

“I’ll go with regular, please. Too much cinnamon makes me sneeze.” She admitted. “Weird, but even when I get it on my coffee I get a bit sniffly.” It was weird, considering it wasn’t exactly an allergy- but maybe a sensitivity.

“Oh, shit.” He raised his brows. “Okay, We’ll do regular then.” He handed it over to her after snapping the cap off with his bottle opener. “Don’t need a sneeze storm along with the snow storm.” The poor attempt of a joke made her snort, shaking her head. Harry’s jokes were infamously horrible, genuinely cringe worthy, but he had to have some sort of flaw. No one was that good looking and went away without something. Taking the frosty glass bottle in hand, she blamed it for the shivers- and not the fact his fingers brushed her own.

“Let’s get started again, yeah? Let me turn my phone off for real this time.”

—-----

The movie watching had turned to more of a movie and chat. Harry sat closer to her than before, claiming it was ‘cold as fuck’ before starting a fire. The room was dim except for the flat screen mounted above said fireplace, his twinkling christmas tree and the comforting warm glow of the flames crackling

“I really am sorry, you know.” He murmured, breaking her out of thought as he let his fingers play with the ends of her hair. Harry had been a bit more touchy tonight, she noticed. She was trying not to let it be known how much it actually affected her. She’d managed to keep her little crush under wraps for months now, and she didn’t want to slip up. It was hard not to, especially after they’d kissed on halloween. It was a dare, of course, everyone tipsy as shit, but it had done something to her. Their costumes accidentally ended up matching, so it was pushed and she didn’t mind. The girl had been so sure she was immune to Harry’s hypnotic charm, but the kiss had been… really fucking good. It wasn’t something that was rated R, but she got a bit of tongue from him, his hand cupping his jaw carefully enough to not mess up her makeup, and the length… If she had been a bit more drunk, she would have pulled him back for more. Since then she’d been a bit fucked. It was both fortunate and not so that Harry got a lot busier at work after that.

“What for?” She asked, giving him a questioning look. Harry had already apologized for taking so long and it wasn’t something she was still upset about. Not with her body buzzing and heating up with him so close to her.

“I’ve been kinda selfish. Forgot to ask more about you.” He frowned. “We’ve been a gossipy bunch tonight but.. You’ve been holding out a bit.” He teasingly tugged her hair. It was hard to keep her shiver from that hidden, as she really liked the feeling. “Remember you told us you’d been seeing someone. How’s that going?”

Y/N was confused for a moment. What was he talking about? Y/N hadn’t gone on a date in months. She wracked her brain, trying to place what he was talking about- when it hit her. Not too long after they’d kissed, Bradley had opened his mouth and asked Y/N about the date she had been on with his friend. Someone she had been set up with, and definitely didn’t like. Her nose crinkled as she shook her head.

“God, you remember that? It was awful.” She said in distaste. “We went to like.. Two dates. The first one and then the second one only happened because Brad kind of pressured me into it.” Her eyes rolled, still annoyed at her lack of a backbone when it came to hurting people’s feelings. She’d been really trying to work on that. The whole putting yourself on the line just to ensure other people are happy and god forbid you hurt someone’s feelings thing.

“Pressured you?” Harry’s fingers paused in her hair. “How do you mean?” She could see it in his face, his irritation rising. One of the things she liked the most about Harry was how respectful he was towards women. It was a hard thing for some men to conceptualize, apparently, but Harry naturally knew how to be a decent human being. It said more about other men than him.

“Well.. After halloween I told Brad I wasn’t feeling it with his friend when he asked me how it went, but he told me how much his friend liked me and I shouldn’t give up on it so quickly. Give him another shot. And then I was a stupid baby and decided to put the random man’s feelings above my own, and it was a second sucky date. I mean, there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with the guy. I was just bored. He just wasn’t my person, y’know? I felt bad wasting his time and giving false hope.” Her lips twisted in a grimace. It wasn’t a thing she was proud of. “But yeah, I know you’ve been busy lately. Though I would have thought Brad would have told you when you guys worked out? You two love to gossip like old hens.” She knew they met up every week.

“Yeah. I would have thought so too.” He said, something underlying in his tone that she didn’t quite get. “He uh.. He told me that you guys still saw each other occasionally, though?” He looked thoroughly confused which in turn, made her even more so.

“I mean, yeah. Kind of? He comes into the cafe and we’re friendly enough. I ended up telling him after the second date that I wasn’t seeing it go anywhere but I’d like to be friends. I’d say we’re more acquaintances than anything else, but he’s got a girl he’s seeing. I served them the other day.” Y/N wasn’t sure why Harry looked upset, almost annoyed at the information, but she was going to find out. “I’m sorry, are you okay? You just look annoyed, is all.” She tried her best to be soft about it, but she had no idea why on earth he would be annoyed about what she just said.

“No- no, s’nothing you did.” He assured her, rubbing over her back once he realized she was taking his expressions personally. “It’s just- he kept saying you guys hit it off and made it seem like… like you were taken by him. I dunno why he’d do that when…” He paused, shaking his head. It confused her even more, unsure as to why Brad would do that either. What did he have to gain by lying- or stretching the truth?

“When, what?” She asked. What would be in it for him?

“I don’t want t’make it weird, but he knew I was plannin’ on asking you out after Halloween but… he told me you and his friend had hit it off.” He stiffened slightly. “I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable, it’s water under the bridge, but I’m just a little upset that he lied.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped.

“He did what?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure… what the motive for that was.” He scratched the base of his neck uncomfortably. It was obvious he hadn’t necessarily wanted to divulge that information to her but she was really fucking glad he did.

She was also angry. Brad knew damn well Y/N and his friend didn’t hit it off and he had told him, albeit politely, straight to his face. It pissed her off immensely if he was being honest. It only made her hypothesis more glaringly correct the more she thought about it, but it wasn’t her place to tell Harry that Brad most definitely had a nasty, big crush on him as well. It was hard not to have one on him, having fallen victim to the Styles Charm herself.

“I don’t either but… No. M’single. I have been for months.” She admitted, not sure if the feeling in her stomach was caused by the alcohol, the anticipation, or the revelation. “I would have said yes, by the way. If you’d asked.” Finding the nerve to meet his eye, she was taken aback at the pure green mixed with a splash of oceanic blue. She’d been up close before but this felt other worldly. Knowing that he was planning on asking her out in any capacity had the feeling in her stomach intensify, looking into eyes that were so pretty it shouldn’t be allowed.

“Yeah?” He asked quietly, the air stilling slightly in the room. He was looking back just as intensely, just as intently, making her body react in ways she hadn't felt in a long time. Giddy, like a kid on christmas from the revelation. “Well… I feel a little silly now. Should have just asked you myself. But… he said you were happy and I didn’t want to intrude on that but it was hard t’be around and not want to tell you so, I kinda buried myself in work for a bit. I didn’t want to be a miserable bastard, like some child who had his toy taken away, but I felt sad that I’d missed my chance.”

The frown on his face made Y/N want to coo. He was so, so sweet. This man. He was incredible, wasn’t he? So human, but honest. Admitting his honest feelings to her despite them being potentially embarrassing. Y/N took a bit of his confidence in tow as she replied to his words, still anxious but knowing that if he could, so could she.

“I missed you. Was sad you stopped coming around.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. There was a new energy, a static between them that she could feel on her fingertips. “It wasn’t silly, though. Your feelings are valid. I understand. I’d probably be a bit hurt if I had a great kiss with someone and then found out they were supposedly seeing someone else not long after. It’s an icky feeling.” Y/N truly couldn’t blame him. She could blame Brad, though. She would.

“Yeah, but I should have… I dunno. Something felt off, I should have trusted my gut as you like to say.” He teased lightly, moving his hand up to the side of her neck. “But… ‘great kiss’, huh?” His raspberry lips, still wet from his sip of beer, turned up in a smirk. “You thought so? How great was it, really?”

Y/N could feel herself flush. God, she had been speaking truth so it hadn’t crossed her mind on how she worded it but somehow, she wasn’t regretting it. If anything, she felt a bit of relief, though his teasing made her flustered. “Stop.” She pushed his shoulder. “I was just- I was just saying.” She grumbled, eyes falling from his back to his curled mouth. She remembered just how good it felt against her own, how his hand had tightened on the back of her costume and urged her closer while the other had delicately held her jaw. A gentle, commanding presence. A will she was willing to bend to.

“Oh, don’t look away, sweetness. M’just teasing.” He cooed, lifting his knuckle to bump her chin back up. “Look cute when you’re embarrassed though. It’s sweet.” His confidence seemed to rise again at her words, which relieved her slightly. At least one of them was feeling it. “For the record- it was a really, really great kiss. S’part of why I wanted to ask you out, hm? Wanted more of that. You’re such a sweet little thing. Always so kind to everyone, maybe a little shy but… s’cute.” Laying on the praise was making her feel like she was boiling, a shy mewl leaving her mouth as she went to divert her eyes again but was interrupted by his hand.

“No more of that. Let me see your pretty eyes when m’talking to you.” It was like he had shifted, making her eyes widen. Her body wanted to respond, blinking rapidly before nodding at him slowly. “Good. Can’t believe there was so much wasted time. M’gonna have words with Brad later, but I don’t think we should wait much more. Do you?” his thumb brushed her bottom lip, making her thighs want to squeeze together. This was a side of him she had only seen the tiniest blip of when they kissed, but god, did she like it. Her body hanging on to his words.

“N-No.” She tripped over the word. “How d’you mean?” The tone was breathless, still in awe of how the situation had shifted. How his hand held the back of her neck and his hand kept her chin up so he could see her eyes. They hooded slightly, tummy twisting in anticipation. He was close, much closer than she had originally thought, and holding her face in a similar fashion to their first kiss.

“Shouldn’t wait to do what we both obviously want. I’d like t’take you out when we’re able to get out of the house, but we were held back because of some lies… and I had a lot planned for us all from that one little, really good kiss.” He murmured. The side of his face was illuminated by the roaring fire, the movie fading into the back of her mind as her eyes searched his face. “It’s been hard to be around you knowing what this mouth tastes like and knowing the pretty little noise you let out when I went t’pull away. Didn’t even want to but you seem to forget to breathe when you’re being kissed, silly girl.” He chuckled under his breath.

“Only with you.” She whispered. It hadn’t been something she meant to say out loud but seeing his smile was worth it- even a tiny bit of a blush if she was seeing correctly. He was stealing a bit of her brain power, she thinks, but at this point she didn’t mind. Harry could take over and she would happily follow.

“Yeah? With me?” He taunted, leaning closer and feeling his nose brush hers. It was cooler than his own, the fire only now starting to heat the room up- but he wanted to keep her warm in another way. At her nod, he let out a sigh. “So can I kiss you again? It’s all I can think about, y’know. When you’re around. Been dying to kiss you and even more. Such a sweet thing, y’are. So good to me. Make me laugh, make me smile. Was gutted when I thought you were with someone else. I’ll tell you a secret.” his thumb brushed her chin again, close enough that his breath could be felt against her lips. “It drove me mad, thinking about you with some other bloke. Someone who I know can’t make you feel half as good as I can. Can’t treat you like the perfect thing you are. Proper princess, aren’t you?”

Y/N was hanging on to his words, nodding along. She always wanted that, wanted to be treated like she was a diamond. To be delicately handled when need be, spoiled with affection. Harry had that quality to him, a man who could take care of business but also come home and dote. At least it seemed that way. She had to imagine him after work, suit jacket strown against the side of the couch and his tie undone, glass of bourbon in his hand. Imagine climbing in his lap and pressing kisses to his face and watching the tension in his body melt away. Let him take out his frustrations on her body instead of letting it fester on his own.

“I can be.” She replied, leaning into him. “I’d like it, a lot.” It felt hard to come up with the right words to express how she felt, how much she genuinely felt the urge to just jump on him- but he beat her to it.

Buttoning their lips together, he scooted closer to her and held her jaw tenderly. Touching her in a way reminiscent of the way he had before, she was stiff for a mere moment before melting into his touch. He was warm, much more so than her, and the blanket that had been thrown over his lap shifted so he could get closer to her. Y/N followed suit, lifting her hand to his chest, palm down on the heated shirt. His heart could be felt thumping away underneath her grasp, cluing her into the fact he was just as worked about about it as she was.

When he pulled back for a second she let out another whine, though the air felt good in her lungs. It was hard to breathe when he was kissing her, not wanting to waste a single second of the experience. Her brain was a loop of his name, not thinking about the oxygen she needed. Now she was needy, knowing that her feelings were returned in a way. She whined again as he halted her from going in again. “Breathe, sweetness. I’ll keep kissing you, but you’ve got t’remember to breathe for me.” His voice was hypnotic and he had all the control. Y/N willingly let it go. She wanted to give it to him.

“Sorry.” She peeped. “It’s hard.. Hard to think.” There was nothing but honesty in her tone, making him want to coo. Y/N was so precious, it hurt. Harry loved that he had this effect on her. The girl was putty in his hands, marshmallow fluff seeping between his fingertips. He hadn’t gotten to see this side of her before and he loved it. Being a man who was in charge most of the time and thoroughly enjoyed it, he loved that she put her trust in him and made herself malleable.

“Mm? S’hard to think when I’m kissing this pretty mouth?” He smiled, “Good. You don’t have to think. I’ll take care of you, sweet thing.” He brushed hair off her face before sitting back on the couch. “Come sit on my lap, darling. Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing.” He was taking the reins now, and Y/N eagerly followed. Clambering onto his thighs, he had shucked the blanket to the floor and let her warming body settle on top of his. Her body melting into his lap, she clutched his tee shirt before surging back in and connecting their mouths back together.

Y/N was needy in a way she hadn’t experienced before. One of her hands slipped into his hair as he returned the kiss with matching fervor, sliding his hand down her waist and pulling her in so she was pressed against him. Breasts against his chest, the plushness of her body making his fingers dig a bit deeper as he licked into her mouth. She was his willing accomplice, his sweet escape as she mewled softly against his tongue. This was even better than their first kiss, in the privacy of Harry’s home where she could let herself go fuzzy. She’d known him long enough, trusted him, pined after him- Y/N was ready and willing for him. Spreading her thighs over his lap further and making sure they were touching in every single way possible.

A noise she wasn’t familiar with left her throat, a little grumbly moan as he sucked on her tongue and pulled off before taking more. She hadn’t been kissed like this before, her body burning as it got heated rather quickly.The revelation of returned feelings, the pining they’d silently been doing, the kiss they’d shared that haunted them, the desperation to make up for lost time- it all was a perfect concoction to the perfect storm. Hand sliding over one another, revving up the neediness as she slowly began to shift in his lap. Rolling her hips. A dangerous but necessary move.

“Careful, Darling.” The warning was mumbled against her mouth. “M’burning for you. Keep rubbing yourself against me like a little kitten and m’gonna take care of it.” All of the pent up neediness was showing itself, rearing its head and spilling over onto the carpet. Y/N would be embarrassed if she wasn’t so into him, and if he didn’t help guide her hips on him. She wanted to be his, wanted to know what he sounded like. She was in awe of how good it felt to just rub up against him. The large hand cuffed around her waist while their spit slicked lips hungrily kissed one another. Harry was unraveling her and he barely had to try. Pathetic, maybe, but he had a strong effect.

She continued the movement, even going as far to rub a bit harder before she was physically stopped, his hand gripping her chin and tugging her away. It was disorienting, making her whine in sadness, but she looked at him with a bleary gaze ad his thumb wiped at some of the wetness smeared under her mouth. “Need you to tell me how far t’go.” Harry wanted to be sure he wasn’t crossing any boundaries. He needed to. With any of his partners he established those, but Y/N especially. He would weep if he misunderstood and make her uncomfortable. “C’mon, pretty girl. I know you’re a bit out of it, but let me know what you want.” He could feel her squirm on his lap, but a simple raise of an eyebrow made her freeze.

“Anything.” She whispered. “Anything, please. Just want…” She swallowed, trying to say it properly. “Just want to make you feel good. Want you to want me. S’cold, I need you to keep me warm.” Her tone was a little pathetic, but Harry seemed to enjoy it. Relish in it, actually, with how much she was desperate for it.

“Oh, sweet baby. Want you regardless of what this body offers me… But if you want me to do anything I want, you won’t mind me slipping these off?” He plucked at the waistband of her fuzzy pajama pants. Light blue with little penguins and snowflakes. “And this?” Her white cropped tank top. Her cardigan was hung over the back of the couch, and he had access to the bare skin of the sliver of her stomach. “Yeah?” He replied to her head bobbing in agreement. “I can see my pretty girl and keep her warm?”

“Mhm.” She agreed. “Take it off. Want it off.” Her hands tugged at his shirt, making it lift up slightly. It was well known he was covered in tattoos but she wanted it up close and personal. She wanted bare skin against her own, wanted to bite on the curve of his neck and see what sounds he would make.

“Okay, needy thing.” He laughed through his nose, tugging his shirt over his head to expose himself. Swallows at the collar bones, a dusting of chest hair, the butterfly on his stomach. His arms showing off more ink, his muscles- god, he was good. So fucking hot that Y/N felt herself ruining her panties even further. How was it possible for a man to work her up just from a little kissing and grinding, merely looking at his shirtless form in the way it had for her? “How’s it, hm?”

“So pretty.” Her voice mumbled, running her hands hesitantly down his chest. Brushing his nipples slightly, making him groan before they reached his butterfly tattoo. “You’re so pretty, H.” It made the man’s ego raise up, not really being called pretty all that often. Sexy, handsome, sure. But pretty was a newer one.

“You’re prettier.” He kissed her jaw, tangling his digits in the hem of her top. What he hadn’t expected was for her bare breasts to be exposed as he lifted it up. The top had a built in bra, leaving little to the imagination to begin with but… god, he was in heaven. Dipping his head down, he kissed the top of her chest before making his way down with sticky kisses. “God, fuck me. You’re fucking gorgeous.” He hissed, palming one of her tits. “Been trying to hard to keep my eyes away from these but, but I keep droolin’ over them. Imagined them covered in my cum, did y’know that?” He worked over the curve of the exposed one whilst squeezing the other. Enjoying the feel of her in his palms. “That’s the only way they could look prettier. Covered in me.” His tongue found her nipple, making her squeak.

Y/N let out a squeak, moving a hand to his hair as he worshiped her chest. Licking, kissing, sucking, even biting down softly on her nipple before switching sides, letting his thumb brush over her now wet and slightly swollen nipple. Her cunt wept, her clit throbbing as her breathing got heavier and she tried to withhold her noises. She was making some, sure, but it was embarrassing how much wanted to pour from her lips.

“Don’t hold back from me.” He pinched her nipple harder than before, making her squeal. “Said I wanted to hear those noises, didn’t I? Be good for me.” The slight scolding only made her hotter. Something about the tone, something about Harry having complete and utter control over her body in this way had her panting.

“Sorry, m’sorry.” She simpered, spreading her legs further on his lap. Her hot cunt needed some relief, desperately. Her clit rubbing against him and the fabric of her now useless panties had her mewling, his mouth sucking harder on her nipple, hungry for it. “It feels so good, I can’t think.” Her words came out almost as a cry. She was obsessed with this feeling, albeit a tad overwhelming.

Pulling away fro her nipple with a soft pop, Harry licked over his shiny lips before cooing at her. “Who said you need to think, baby?” He stroked her hair, tangling his fingers in it and firmly tugging her head where he wanted it. “My silly girl. Just let me do the thinking. All you’ve got to do is focus on warming my cock so I can keep you nice n’warm too, yeah? Let me take over a little bit.” His tone was intoxicating, the cadence of his speech placing her under a spell. She wanted this, she wanted him to do this for them. “Good. S’time for these to come off. Want to take a peek at that pussy.” He playfully smacked her ass, motioning for her to stand on her shaky legs and let him tug her leggings down.

“What have you done, sweetness?” He crooned, looking at her panties. “Messy little thing, you’ve soaked right through them.” Nimble fingers rubbed over the gusset of her panties, the warm, wet fabric doing nothing to hide her cunt. The soft pink had gone transparent and sticky, making his cock jerk in his sweats. God, she was exquisite. A complete angel. How had he managed to keep his hands off of her? “Love that you got this sticky for me, baby. Y’like me that much?”

It was almost humiliating, the burn in her cheeks making her hot but… she liked it. She liked how he was talking to her, sweet but a tiny hint of condescending to it. It wasn’t something she knew she liked until this moment- perhaps it was something she just liked with Harry. But she shivered at the feeling of his warm fingers finding her pearled clit under the fabric, rubbing lightly over it. “I do.” She whispered. “Like you a l-lot.” Her words stuttered when he pressed his thumb over her, wiggling it back and forth. It was slightly humiliating, standing in just her wrecked panties in front of the man, but the shame licked into flames of arousal as he pulled her in and peppered kisses to her stomach. Soft, sensual ones that left a print of his saliva there before he pulled back to tug the silly waste of fabric down her legs. They were tossed to the side, Harry switching positions to have her sit on the couch.

“Good. Like you too, sweet girl. Felt so guilty, cumming all over my fist while imagining you. That perfect mouth and these pretty thighs…” He hissed, running his hands over them as he got on his knees in front of her. “But part of me didn’t care. Thought I was fantasizing about someone else’s woman, but it was you. So I did it anyway.” His lips found her sensitive inner thighs, kissing tenderly as he spread her open. “It’s a shame we wasted so much time, but m’not wasting another second.

He didn’t. A gasp tore from her mouth as he licked up her slit, tasting the sweetness he had been deprived of. Something started to unfurl inside of him, settling further as he hooked his hands under her knees and urged them to stay spread as his arms moved to their place. His fands looped around, placing one hand on the mound above her cunt, eyes peering up at her as he took his time. Languid, long licks as he cleaned her up. She had made a mess of herself, and he was taking care of it. Of course he was. He had wanted to do this for months, now. Spreading her open and tasting her right from the source.

It was like he fed off of her sounds. The tiny bucks of her hips that he quickly eased by holding her down slightly, only making her more wet. He was taking mental note of the things that she liked, and being controlled was one of them. He’d never have guessed, but he was having a beautiful time figuring it all out. His cock was throbbing, in need of relief, but he ignored it in favor of her pleasure. Pulling up momentarily, he kept their eyes locked as he let a line of split dribble from his lips to her cunt, stringing over it before he lowered his angled hand and gave her clit a few taps.

“Fuck.” Y/N whimpered. “You’re too good at this. Gonna make me cum.” She was a mess, but Harry wasn’t going to give her that. Not yet, anyways.

“No, sweetness. You’re going to cum around my cock. M’just getting you warmed up.. Although you didn’t seem to need it.” He slipped his finger inside of her after releasing a thigh to rest it on his shoulder. “Nice and wet for me already. I’m just being selfish. Wanted to taste you for ages.” His crush had been there for longer, he supposed. It had grown slowly over time, blossoming into what it was now.

He was torturing her, she was sure of it. His finger, thicker than her own, curling slightly as his mouth attached to her clit, suckling on the swollen bud. How could she hold back from orgasm when it felt this good? She was getting closer and closer with each pull into his mouth, the wet, sounds of sucking filling the air and her hands clenching around his hair, pulling him further into her cunt. His nose brushed up against her and little she could do but take it, he continued on it, working her until her thighs began to shake and the pleasure began to boil in her tummy, almost- until he stopped. Cooing at her as she began to whine, squirming in his hold and almost tearing up at her orgasm that she had been robbed of until he rose up and shut her up with a kiss.

“Told you what I wanted. Don’t pout, as pretty as it is. I’m gonna make you cum, baby.” He brushed their noses together before he walked over to his side table and opened the drawer. One day later she’d ask him about why he had a stash of condoms in there, but for now her eyes were far too focused on the obvious outline of his prick through the sweatpants. Nearly gagging for it, she felt, she peeped up at him as he stood back in front of her. “Normally I’d ask how you’d want it, but since you’re a bit thoughtless today, m’gonna choose. Lay back.” He pointed her in the direction of where he wanted her to lay.

“Don’t- don’t you want me to suck you?” Her voice sounded much needier than she had wanted, but he was endeared. His sweetness was obviously wanting to, looking at him as he palmed over himself and shook his head.

“Not today. I’ll bust right inside that mouth. As much as I want to, and I will have it later… Not now. Want to feel you wrapped around me when I cum.” Slipping down his sweats, Y/N watched as his cock bobbed up and the pulsing between her thighs intensified. He was big, thick, and wet. The tip ruddy, dark pink and weeping with precum and a prominent vein extending over the side, trimmed hair around the base up to the little line of hair that went over his stomach- yes, she had never seen a cock as appealing before, and she was feeling hot over it. He apparently noticed too, a smirk on his lips and dimple extended. “No. You’ll taste it later, but I need to be inside of you.” He liked licking her out a bit too much.

Y/N blinked up at him, nodding her head as she swallowed thickly. Settling between her thighs again, this time on his knees, she watched as he slipped the condom on before taking his other hand and cupped her cheek. He softened his gaze, looking over her face before speaking. “Need you to tell me if you want to stop. Any time, any reason and we can be done and go back to cuddling. I like you for far more than your body, sweetness.” He sighed. “Want this to be good for you. Want you to use your pretty mouth and talk t’me so I know how you feel. Don’t hold back.” He was a homeowner and the walls were thick, so it didn’t matter. No one could hear them past the roaring winds outside. The snow itself was silent, his silent savior for making Y/N stuck with him. “Get me, baby? Words.”

“Yes, I’ll tell you. I want it, I promise.” She whispered. “Think I’ll like anything you do for me. I know I’m safe with you.” And she was. Harry had always been a good friend and she would trust him with her life even beforehand, so handing her body over to his tender care didn’t seem half as scary as it may with someone else. Nerve wracking only because there were feelings there- real feelings they both admitted were felt.

“That’s my girl.” He smiled, brushing the tip against her cunt. “Gonna push in now.” He paused for a moment, leaning over to give her a kiss before righting himself on his knees and giving her what they both wanted. Fuck, was it good.

Y/N had never felt so full in her life. Her fingers curled around his wrists as he held her legs up, her stomaching jumping as she panted, Harry filled her up so well she could cry. So deep, so perfectly curved like his dick had been made for her, she dug her nails into him as she let out cries of pleasure.

“That’s what I wanted, baby. Let me hear you.” He crooned, feeling sweat begin to bead on his brow. Working his cock into her, he listened to the sounds of their sex, how wet she had gotten solely for him, and he was happy. God, he was fucking happy. Not only was he inside of her, but her feelings mirrored his own. She wasn’t taken- but she would be now.

“I feel so good.” She said up to him. “I’m so full and you’re so deep, I don’t know.. How does it feel so good?” It was evident her head was a bit in the clouds, but he was there to take care of her. “Stretching me… Don’t stop.” She babbled, closing her eyes as he hit exactly where she needed.

He continued, watching as her cunt spread open for him. Taking him deep, he was enamored with the sight of her wetness all over his cock, wishing he could ditch the latex covering his shaft. All he wanted was to leave traces of her on his skin, leave her smell and taste. This was only the beginning of their relationship, the very prologue, and he couldn’t get enough of her. “M’not gonna stop, sweet girl. You feel too good.” He exhaled. “S’only our first time. Gonna keep fucking you until you can’t take it.” It was serious. He’d held himself back from her for months now, and it was nearly christmas. “My girl… You take it so well, hm? Think you were meant to take my cock.”

“I was- I am.” She replied, blinking up at him blearily. “Nothing has ever felt so g-good. Want it all the time. Please, I don’t want to feel empty.” Her eyes watered a bit, making his cock twitch as he cooed down at her. Something about it was so erotic to him, watching her cry for his cock. For him. She needed it, needed him and he was the only one that could provide the very thing she needed. He was the only thing she could crave and he would make sure of that.

“Oh, sweetheart. So gorgeous… M’not gonna let you stay empty.” He cooed. “No, I like far too much. Want to be tucked as deep in you, as long as I can. You promised to keep my cock warm, yeah?” He wiped away a tear, bringing it off her face. “I’ll keep you warm too.” And he was. Y/N was beginning to get sticky with sweat. Feeling her hair start to stick to the nape of her neck from the room finally feeling the effects of the fire, or his movements and pleasure, she didn’t know the origin. She was almost hot, but that was welcomed. The storm going on outside, snow was coming down hard, but she was nice and warm with Harry.

Y/N felt a bit speechless. This was not how she had anticipated her night going in the slightest, but she loved every second of it. Each thrust of his cock filling her up led her closer to her orgasm, knowing she was sticky with arousal and sopping wet on his cock, and he took it in stride. Lowering his hand down to thumb over her clit, soft grunts leaving him as he fucked her. It wasn’t too rough, wasn’t too kinky, but it was perfect. He was treating her with the care she needed. Looking at her with visible fondness, only teasing her a bit, it was evident that he cared about her and that only brought her closer.

“M’gonna cum.” She whispered. “I’m gonna- I’m so close. Please let me- I was good.” Part of her worried about him deciding he wanted her to hold it again, depriving her of the pleasure, but he didn’t. He kept his thrusts the same, rubbing her clit a bit faster as he continued.

“Go ahead, my sweet thing. Make a mess on my cock. Cum for me.” She had already dripped all over him, even some towards his thighs, but he wanted more. He craved the mess only she could give him, the wet slap of skin and her puffy pussy contracting around his length. She had been so close on his finger, so he knew she was reaching it from how she squeezed him, but it was almost too good. He was a goner, watching as she arched her back and let out a broken moan, trembling yet again before her mouth dropped open and she came on him. He could feel it, her cunt squeezing him and her body tightening up as it hit her. Pulsing around him as he continued his thrusts inside of her, the delicious heat nearly making him lose his damn mind.

“Shit…” He hissed, feeling his own start to hit him. “Fuck, baby… fuck.” His voice turned slightly whiny as he held tight onto her leg, his thumb pausing on her clit as the first rope of cum spilled into the condom. Her contracting, hot cunt, her teary eyes, her swollen mouth, all of it was so beautiful that he couldn’t stand it. This was a long time coming, of course, but to actually have her on him, to feel her body react to his touch, to see her cum solely because of him? It was otherworldly. He doubted he’d felt this strongly about an orgasm before, jerking his hips as deep groans left him, imagining there was no barrier in between them as he filled the condom. He knew it was going to overflow, but he didn’t care at this moment.

All he cared about was lowering himself on top of her and kissing her senseless, holding her face like it was a precious stone. Recovering from this orgasm and kissing her, the giddy feeling never went away. It stayed as he checked on her, kissing her cheeks and her nose, wiping the hair that was stuck to her face away and murmuring praises to her. “S’my girl. Not going to let you go.” He loved this feeling. “You’re perfect. Can’t believe it took us so long, but now that I’ve got you… M’not letting go.” It was sappy, maybe, but he was finally getting what he wanted. Something he thought he’d lost the chance to have.

“Don’t want you to let go.” She sniffled, taking his face in her smaller hands once she caught her breath, pressing their lips together again before letting him rest his forehead against her own. “That was perfect. I can’t believe it either…” She stroked his hair back, the slight dampness from sweat not bothering her at all. “Does this mean I’m yours?” It felt a little embarrassing to ask, but she wanted to be clear.

“Mhm. And I’m yours. No more games. Don’t give a shit what any of our friends have to say… M’pissed I was kept away so long, but I’m not going to do it now. I wasted so much time…” He gave a bittersweet smile. “Been dying to make you mine.”

“Well…. Merry Christmas.” She giggled, eyes light and bright. Happiness illuminated her features and it nearly stopped his heart. Y/N was so beautiful that it almost hurt. And now she was his. He took her in as the multicolor lights from his tree flashed over the side of her face, heart completely filled with affection. “I’m your gift. No refunds or exchanges.” He laughed, not able to help himself from taking another kiss. “Best gift I’ve ever received.”

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rumisgf · 9 months ago

Text

“MY GIRL” SATORU GOJO X BLACK!READER

summary: gojo is known for having talking stages with lots of people, which leads you to doubt that you’re not just another talking stage. but, after talking for a while, he finally wants you to be his. he’s willing to do whatever it is to prove you’re his and show you how he really feels.

includes: implied “situationship”, fem terms and pronouns used, player!gojo, lover girl!reader, confession, eventual smut, fluff, lots of praise, oral f! receiving, penetration, possessiveness, corruption kink if you squint

it’s no secret that saturo gets around. he’s had his fair share of entanglements, flings, and hookups. but, you were different.

when he had a crush on you, he found himself more nervous than usual. his brain couldn’t function properly- even worse than its natural state of aloofness. he’d blabber about you to everyone. namami, geto, kiyotaka, shoko, hell even his own student itadori— he’d talk about you to megumi nonstop for gods sake, and i promise you that boy was tired of hearing about you.

then, he finally got you. he finally got the courage to make advances on you. to his surprise, they were reciprocated. you two would flirt, stay in each other’s dorms, go on “links”, you both even get to the point of falling asleep on the phone and good morning texts.

and he actually treated you very well. he was sweet, showered you with compliments, and he didn’t even hide you from others. but, a part of you still had doubt. you were aware of his past and didn’t wanna look dumb. your friends would make little jokes about you being “delulu” and always pointing out how whipped you were, so you’d be more than embarrassed if he ended up playing with your feelings.

these were all the thoughts going through you head before you knocked on the man’s apartment door, coming to hang with him after he texted you and asked you to come chill with him.

you always said yes, of course. but then again, you always said yes. it’s almost pathetic how weak you are for him.

“hey gorgeous~” the door opens almost instantly and you’re greeted by a blue eyes with a bright smile. his hair is down and he’s in a tank top, exposing his surprisingly muscular arms. his sleeper build is one of the things that has you so whipped. you smile back at him and hug him, his arms going to squeeze your waist. after a few seconds you release yourself from his hold and make your way to his bed as if his place is practically yours.

he finds his way next to you and watches as you immediately go to scroll on your phone. however, he seems…off. usually, he’d be more touchy. or, he’d also be on his phone or be on the game. he’s just watching you this time, as if he’s contemplating something. you finally look at him, cocking your eyebrow.

“may i help you, sir?”

he laughs, almost as if he was embarrassed (which he kinda was— he didn’t notice he was staring). “nothing, just thinkin’.” you softly laugh in return, going back to your phone. “about what?” you mindlessly asks. he takes a second to pause, then you hear him take a deep breath.

“i want you to be my girlfriend.”

now, it’s your turn to pause. you’re stuck in place as your brain tries to process what he just said. gojo, “mr. bitches”, satoru just asked to cuff you. you have to be dreaming.

“what?” is all you can say. he sits up, and looks directly at you. “y/n, i wanna make you mine.” you struggle to make eye contact with him, at a loss for words. “i know we’ve been talking for some months and i just…i really really like you— a lot. i can’t stop thinking about you and i can’t see myself with anybody but you. i want you- fuck it, i need you in my life so bad. you’re everything i look for.”

your face heats up as he’s sitting there, confessing his feelings for you. you finally get the courage to speak. “i really like you too, satoru. and honestly, i been waiting for you to ask this for so long. i know it seems stupid, but i just… i don’t wanna see you with anybody else. and sometimes i just-” you cut yourself off, not wanting to ruin the moment. his face softens and he grabs your hands. “what? you can tell me anything, gorgeous, i swear.”

“…do you really mean this? i don’t wanna just be…i don’t how to say this… another one.” you finally let it out your chest, and he looks down at your hands. then, he lifts you up and has you straddling him on his lap as he makes direct eye contact with you. “baby, i swear there is nobody else i could want but you. i don’t care about those other hoes or anybody else, they got nothing on you..”

his eyes fall to your lips, and he takes another breath. “i love you, y/n, and i just wanna be able to call you my girl.” your heart is beating rapidly by now, and you wrap your arms around his neck. “i love you too, i’m yours.”

you both lean in and close the space between you two. your lips collide with his, slowly moving in rhythm with each other. his hands squeeze your thighs, then he holds your waist and begins to take control. he flips you over, and his lips quickly find their way to your neck. you let out a small whine as he sucks on the skin, eagerly making his mark on you. he kisses and bites all over “mine…all mine…” he breathes into your neck.

instinctively, your legs spread and he subconsciously grinds against you. this earns a moan escaping your lips, and he pulls away. “you want to?” he asks. you frantically nod, but this time he really wants to keep things romantic. you’re his girlfriend now, he wants to prioritize making you feel loved over wanting to get off. “you sure? i wanna hear you say it, love.” you look at him with needy eyes, ones that cause an erection to start to grow in his pants. “please.”

“say no more, baby.” he dives back into your lips, hands tugging at your bottoms. he pulls them down and plays with the hem of your underwear, still keeping a steady rhythm as he kisses you.

your hand goes to unzip his pants. as you try to pull them down, he stops you. usually, you’re first to go down on him, but he wants this time to be different. “let me take care of you, i got it.” he says with a sweet, loving smile on his face as he pulls away. then he slides his finger through your clothed slit, already feeling how wet you are. you hum as he teases you, getting you all worked up for him. his thumb slowly finds your clit. “that’s it baby, relax…” he rubs you through your underwear and you moan again, squirming under his touch. another reason you’re so whipped for him: he always knows how to make you feel good.

“toru..please…” you whine, looking down at his hands. “well can you look at me first, baby?” he teases, and you can hear the smirk on his face before you even look up at him. then, he slides his hand in your underwear and toys with your clit, sticky with your arousal. “mhm…good girl~” he cooes as you moan out for him. your eyes threaten to close as pleasure swirls all through your stomach, still aching for more. just as that feeling arises, he dips his ring finger into your pulsing hole and your eyes roll back.

satoru watches your every move as you writhe under him, adding another finger as your slicks begins to spill out and making you squirm even more. then, he pulls them out and brings them to his mouth. he licks them clean, watching in satisfaction as you look to him for more. without a word, he leans down to your soaking heat. all while keeping eye contact, he kisses your clit.

you gasp, and he takes no time sucking on the sensitive bud. “f-fuck~” you moan, gripping onto his hair with your hand. he hums as your freshly manicured nails dig into his scalp while he works you with his mouth. you sing out for him as he laps your pussy with his tongue, running it through your folds and dipping into your hole. “baby, i’m c-close…” you cry. he only moves his tongue faster, drawing harsh circles on your clit. finally, you let you on his tongue with a long, strung out moan. your legs shake and your grips tightens on your hair as you cum, him slowly sucking on your clit through your orgasm.

he lifts off with a pop! then kicks off his pants and boxers, his fully erect dick springing out as he climbs on top of you. he strokes himself, kissing your lips and giving you a taste of your own arousal. “you ready, princess?” he breathes out, and you hum in response, lifting up your legs.

he lines himself up with your entrance, and easily slides in due to your previous orgasm. you both moan in sync, him burying his face in your neck. he pumps into you at a slow pace, each thrust deeper than the one before. he finally bottoms out and your eyes roll back in ecstasy as you moan out in pure bliss.

“fuck baby, you tight as fuck…” he rasps as your walls clench him as he moves in and out of you. he kisses you, then looks into your eyes as he makes love to you. “my pretty baby, always so good for me.” his thrusts slowly begin to quicken and your mouth falls open. “yeah, you like that?”

you hum in response, turning your head and burying it into the pillow as your hand grips his arm. “fuck s- mmm- s’ good…” he smirks as he rolls his hips, fucking into you even deeper and reaching for the spot that’ll have you melting. you whine as he fucks you, sending pleasure all through your warmth to your legs and stomach. “i know baby, ah shit- you love this dick don’t you?” he says as he leans down to your ear. “mhm~” you respond instantly, slick dripping out of your cunt. “mhm…so fucking wet for me.”

“yeah.. who’s pussy is this? huh?” your walls clench from the question and you’re barely able to answer” “y- fuck! yours…it’s all yours~”

“yeah this my pussy, all mine.” his words send chills down your spine, putting you in a trance as your orgasm builds up in your stomach. then, he pulls out, immediately picking you up and placing you on his lap. he finds your entrance, and positions you above his dick. you slowly slide down all the way on him.

“fuuuuck, just like that…” he moans, feeling your soaked walls tightening around him again. you eagerly bounce on his dick, moaning loudly from how you can feel every inch of him. he then places his hands on your ass, setting a pace for you and guiding you. “cmon ride me baby, just like that..such a good girl for me, yeah?” you can only moan in response, drowning in pleasure as a familiar knot builds up inside you. “‘m gonna cum…” you cry out.

he snaps his hips up inside you, causing you to nearly scream as he repeatedly slams his dick info your g-spot. you moan out his name and a smile is plastered across this face. “go ahead, cum for me baby. cum all over this dick.” and you do just that, creaming all on him as you bury your head into his neck, moaning his name and several curses.

he turns you back over, still buried inside you as he begins plunging into you. his hand presses one of your legs against your chest as you cry and moan from the overstimulation. “fuck baby i love you…love you so much~” he moans as he chases his own high. finally, he lets out a loud moan as he pulls out, cumming all over your stomach.

you both catch your breath, and he manages to lift himself off you. after finding a towel and cleaning himself off, he crashes onto his bed and pulls you on top of him.

“i’m yours.” he says, sweetly kisses your forehead. he squeezes you tight as if you were gonna fly out of him arms, and you smile into his chest. “i love you, baby.”

“i love you too, toru.” and just like that, you were finally his.

@ rumisgf

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x black reader #gojo x black reader smut #gojo smut #jjk satoru #jjk smut #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk x black reader #jjk x black y/n #black reader smut #getou suguru #satoru !!

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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touchy bestfriend james makes my brain short circuit i love it so much

can u write a touchy bestfriend james and he’s lying on the bed while reader is in the bathroom and r comes in and sees him and he tells r to come over and lie with him then they fall asleep but she wakes up because he’s awake and playing with her boobs like stress balls and r asks what he’s doing then he just says that they feel warm and soft

Okay this was definitely a rough attempt, but I hope you like it!

cw: pg-13 level smut

bestfriend!James x fem!reader ♡ 618 words

When you come in, James looks nearly asleep despite the sunlight still streaming in through the windows. His face has gone soft and squishy, lips in a half-pout from how his cheek is smushed into his pillow. His hair is getting so long he’s had to push most of it to the back of his head to be able to see his phone screen where he scrolls idly in front of him, but one stubborn curl falls down his face and rests on the bridge of his nose.

“What, do I have a massive pimple or something?” he asks without looking up. “What’re you staring at me for?”

You cover your embarrassment with annoyance, rolling your eyes as you lean against the doorway. “Just wondering why you look like you’re about to drift off at four in the afternoon.”

“Because it’s nice and warm in the sun,” he answers easily. “C’mere, love.”

You do what he says (you always do, in the end), crawling onto the bed and laying down beside him. James shuts off his phone, setting it down in favor of sliding his hand between your waist and the mattress, big palm coming to rest at your navel as he tugs your back closer to his front. You don’t know about the sun, but James is certainly warm.

“Your arm’s gonna fall asleep,” you point out.

“Don’t care,” he says, already sounding drowsier.

“Don’t we have to be up to meet Remus and Sirius in a couple hours?”

“We will be.”

You’re out of protests, and not unhappy for it. James’ palm is warm and comforting on your stomach, his other hand reaching over you to rest just below your sternum. His breathing evens out quickly, and it’s that steady rhythm that eventually lulls you into sleep with him.

You wake, an indeterminable amount of time later, because something feels odd. You rouse slowly, aware first of the pleasant warmth at your back, then of the fact that you’re fully clothed in James bed, and finally of his hands on your boobs.

He’s squeezing them, feeling about with curious but sure hands, one tit in each. You lie there motionlessly, unsure if James is awake, or honestly, if you are. His touch is oddly comforting, and while your best friend is a very tactile person, this level of intimacy is unusual enough that you almost wonder if you might be dreaming. Then he squeezes too hard, and you’re sure you’re not.

“Ow!” you flinch back into James, hand coming up to grip his wrist. “What, are you trying to get milk to come out?”

“Hm?” James’ voice is sleepy, less so as he realizes the placement of his hands. His grip loosens. “Oh, shit. Sorry, love, I was half-asleep. Didn’t realize I was doing that.”

He doesn’t sound nearly as embarrassed as you would be in his situation, but that’s James. “It’s okay,” you say (really, it’s more than okay). “Just, it hurts when you squeeze that hard. They’re sensitive, Jamie.”

You feel him nod against the back of your head. “M’sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to hurt ya.” He doesn’t move his hands, though, and you make no move to encourage him to. “They’re just really warm and soft, y’know?”

You do know. The thing poking into your back is warm too, though not so soft.

“I mean, I don’t mind,” you say, glad you’re facing away so he can’t see the intense blush spreading over your face like a blight. “It’s sort of nice. Just…don’t squeeze so hard, okay?”

James’ thumb soothes over the skin of your breast, a comforting touch and a promise. He begins to knead at it gently. “Got it,” he says.

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littlemissmentallyunstable · 3 months ago

Text

there’s been lots of requests and comments so here it is PART 3!!! (SHE’S HERE first anon, hope you survived this long second anon and it was not a dream third anon, I’m posting/making it now fourth and fifth anon)

some of you were going feral for part 2 so I hope this lives up the expectation 😭😭 if not I’m severely sorry

title: the dancer and the angel part 3

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: grayson has just admitted to kissing lyra kane, the girl you’d been worried about, the girl that was stunning, the girl he said didn’t matter… he chose her over you so now what??

parts: part 1 part 2 part 4

warnings: swearing, SPOILERS FOR TGG

a/n: okay so I hate switching POVs but I felt it was necessary here and I know the start is the same as the part 2 but in Gray’s POV but trust me there is lot more

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31

GRAYSON’S POV

Guilt has chewed me up and spat me out the whole walk back to our shared room. There’s a pulsating lump in my throat that aches relentlessly, reminding me of what I’ve done. I am a terrible person. I never deserved her and now I’ve done the worst thing I could’ve possibly done, that anyone on this whole planet could’ve ever done. And she will never forgive me for it. I wish there was a way to turn back time and alter certain events. As soon as the time machine is invented, no doubt by my very own brother Xander, I’m coming back to moments before now to stop my idiot brain from-

I can’t even think it. Maybe it’s because it makes it more real. It’s like the last few moments of my life have been erased from my brain, it’s a blank canvas and I have no paints. I know what I did but I can’t remember exact details. Still, I can taste her on my lips, an over sweet taste that was almost too sickly has now morphed into something bitter. Her perfume lingers on my clothes and adds to my ever growing headache. I don’t want to smell her, I don’t want the reminder of the awful human I have become. The monster that now inhabits my body, lives in my skin, breathes my air and poisons the people I love. The ones I truly love.

Y/n. At one point she was the only reason I was still existing, still carrying on. She somehow managed to give me the fight to keep carrying on. I got up most days because I knew I would get to see her face. And now I’m going to throw everything away, our whole relationship. Everything we’ve been through or planned to go through together. It will reduced to nothing in a few minutes.

I’m outside the door, my feet have carried me here through muscle memory. I must go in, I must face her I’m aware but I’m afraid. I’ve never felt so pathetic. I wonder if she is still asleep. Though, I can’t work out whether I’d rather she be awake or asleep. I don’t think I could bear to look at her angelic feature either way. Those wide eyes, round lips, heavenly- I can’t bear it, I’m going to lose her, all of her.

I fiddle around with the key, hoping the door will just never unlock so I don’t have to face this. The mechanism clicks, mocking me. I step in silently and face the door to lock back up again. I don’t understand why, I know I’ll be kicked out in a matter of seconds, what good will a locked door be? And yet I’m still facing the door, fumbling with the key, my back towards her. Though I can hear her getting out of bed. She’s awake. My body’s immediate response is to go into a state of paralysis. I can’t move as the guilt ridden cement hardens over my body, creating an outer shell of the cruel creature I’ve become. Her body is behind mine. I can feel her bright presence radiating her usual tentative nature.

“Are you okay?” I hear her whisper as she touches my arm so gently it stings.

It stings so sharply because I know what I’ve done. The shameful crime I’ve committed. I jerk away suddenly.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, deep concern in her tone.

It kills me. It’s a poisoned dagger wedged deep within my heart, hitting every vital artery. Her voice is so soft, so melodic. She cares so much, too much and I’m about to destroy it all. And as much as I could not say a word I couldn’t live a lie, the guilt would eat me alive. How could I look her in the eye and tell her she’d always been the only one when I know she hadn’t? She’d already noticed earlier today my distant mood. She had always been observant, vigilant about those things concerning me and I’d always been grateful. I wouldn’t have that anymore. Lyra had been on my mind earlier and I couldn’t tell her. Now she would realise.

“No,” I reply.

My voice is unfamiliar to myself, it’s sharp and blunt. It sounds horribly harsh. I could feel it hurt her, the air ripples with a touch of dimness when I hurt her. Even with my back to her it’s obvious to me. I know her so well, too well and from this day on we might drift to perfect strangers. That thought hurts me more than anything.

“Where have you been?” she says. Her voice so sweet, so innocent, cruelly naïve.

I don’t want to break her, I don’t want to do it. It would be like smashing a glass ballerina. Something so beautiful, something so delicate should be preserved not purposely broken. I force my eyes to meet hers. I immediately regret it. The soft mellow colour all melts into one, clawing at my heartstrings and ripping the organ to shreds. She’s so beautiful. How had I ever looked at any other? How had I let myself?

Suddenly I’m drowning in guilt. I don’t know how, it just comes over me suddenly. Like a tidal wave I had my back to. I’ve been swept under by an endless ocean of shame. My lungs swollen full of my own black sin. I don’t know how but I manage to choke out two shaky words.

“I’m sorry.”

My voice cracks. My voice never cracks. She knows that. I’m sturdy, I’m strong, I’m the rock that never breaks and here I am. Here I am crumbling into dust. She’s too smart to miss the signs, she’s too clever not to immediately know something so horribly wrong, her mind is too sharp not to have worked half of it out. She’d already been suspicious of Lyra. She’d already seen what might happen between us even before I did, before it did actually happen.

“Gray?” she asks, my name sounding too sweet on her tongue. The next time she says it will taste bitter, I’m sure of it. She barely whispers the word but I hear her, it rings in my mind. It forever will.

I’m full of pure regret and guilt, it wracks my soul, shaking me relentlessly back and forth until I’m dizzy with it. Remorse’s doors suddenly burst wide open, ready for my grand entrance. My hopes and dreams snicker and smirk smugly as I walk down the runway, my head hanging in embarrassment.

I need to tell her. My heart races in my chest and there’s a lump stuck in my throat, so large it’s started to block my airways. I don’t know how to get the words out, I don’t know how to talk. I feel like I’m suffering some sort of aneurysm. She looks at me, her eyebrows pinched in and eyes narrowed and then I see it. Her eyebrows part and slowly sink. She knows already.

“Tell me,” she murmurs, her voice of an angel shaking.

I close my eyes, trying to suppress the tears. I haven’t cried in years I’ve forgotten this feeling, this heavy weighted agony that ripples through me causing water to infiltrate my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek and still my shaking hands.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, an uninvited raw desperation ripping through my voice, “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant for it to happen, I-“

“Tell me,” she grits through her teeth sharply, her eyes glitter so beautifully fierce and fiery, like she wants to kill.

But I know she’s trying to steady her rising sadness by covering up with her fury. I can see through her, like she can see through me. I freeze and the pause elongates. The aching silence is deadly, it’s fatal. I wish she didn’t have to make me say it.

“I kissed her,” I murmur, the words making me feel sick as I say them.

“Who?” she asks, he tone low and ferocious, “who did you kiss? I want to hear you say it.”

I’m twisting a knife into her heart and I know it. But she wants me to cut deeper. She’s a woman of principle, I’ve already hurt her, I might as well do the job properly in her eyes. And I can’t deny her this. Not I��ve stripped her of her dignity, her trust, her love, her everything.

“I kissed Lyra,” I whisper, suddenly aware of the dampness on my cheeks.

A sour taste fills my mouth. The words send lightning sparks across my jaw, sending ribbons of agony down the sides of my face. The truth hurts. Literally. Tears are rolling the side of my face, but I don’t bring my hand to wipe them and nor do I stop them. I’ve never felt more broken.

But she doesn’t care, there is not pity in her eyes. Good. I don’t want he to pity me. She should hate me. She should want me to miserable and hope for me to have a lifetime of the torture I’ve just forced her to endure.

“Get out,” she murmurs, the anger bringing out her natural stunning features. A flicker of boldness in her eyes, the striking angles of her eyebrows, her strong thick lashes and her full lips.

“I’m sorry.” they’re the only words I remember how to say, through my internal fit of torment.

I expect her to hit me around the face, a good strong punch I know she can make or a sharp smack that’ll leave a red hand mark pressed against my cheek. I imagine she might scream at me and ask me all the questions I wish I had answers to. But she does none of that. She only looks at me darkly and utters two last words.

“Leave Grayson.”

I can hear the tears she’s trying to hold back, through the numb façade. I know her better than she’ll ever realise. But it’s not fair for me to stay, not after this. She’s only asking one thing of me when she should be doing so much more. So I do. I turn my back on her again. And I leave.

***

Tears pummel down my cheeks like never before. I can’t remember the last time I cried. I don’t think I’ve ever cried like this. I’m blinded by them as I stumble sideways. I don’t know where I’m going. I stand on the edge of the cliff and sink to my knees, letting out a loud guttural scream. I’m there until my throat is so raw I can’t feel it. I bite my lip so hard it draws blood. And then I’m up again and running, following a path my footsteps are dragging me towards. I can’t think straight, I’m dizzy with pain. Before I know it I’m outside the safe house on the island. My hands tremor on the handle and I swing open the door, falling to the floor for my sobs to take me over. My chest aches and burns and tightens. That’s when I realise I can’t breathe properly. I fumble around for my phone, a tear splashing into the illuminated screen. With uncontrollably shaking hands, I typed no words. Just three numbers.

911

***

The wait feels like years, maybe even decades. Each second taunts me, with a mocking tick. I’d crumbled into the corner of the room at some point and stayed there, curled up and choking on my own sorry sobs. What had I done? What had I done? What had I done?

The question circles around my head like the nostalgia of a distorted tune of a merry go round. I’ve never made such a big mistake and my life and deep down there’s a sinking sensation that is telling me I’m not going to be able to make this better. I sob, loud harsh sobs that hurt my lungs and knock the air out of my stomach. My whole being shakes with every strangled noise that escapes my lips. Grieving. I’m grieving over something I chose to throw away. It’s cruelly ironic. But I think part of me is also grieving the good man I once thought myself to be, that she made me believe I could be.

I turned my back on the one and only person in this world who just cared about me, took me for who I am and believed I could do anything. She only wanted the best, she only wanted happiness and she deserved so much more and here I am, stabbing her in the back and dancing in her blood like a madman. She was my everything and I managed to mess it up, just like everything else in my life. I can’t have normal relationships, I can’t do something without messing it up. I’m one big screw up the opposite of how the old man raised me to be. He’s looking down on me now and I can feel his disappointment, like an infection coursing through my bloodstream. I failed him, I failed my brothers, I’ve failed her, I’ve failed myself.

She thought I was better, she believed I could be more than his expectation. And I was stupid enough to believe it, encourage it and let her belive the lie too. We’re all idiots.

I can recite her favourite song, her favourite flower, her favourite food and favourite colour. I can tell you all about her favourite novels and how she orders her books on an endless bookshelf. I know that she tells people her favourite film is ‘it’s a wonderful life’ but it’s actually secretly ‘tangled’. I know she prefers to stay inside and cuddle under blankets rather than have a night out. I know she’d rather reason a thousand books than watch a thousand movies. I know she wanted a library in her dream house and two, maybe three children with her husband and I know she’d sometimes debate about getting a cat as well. I know how she loves brownie batter more than the actual brownies and can’t sleep with any lights on. I know she still uses the bunny rhyme to tie her shoelaces and how she fiddles with her collarbone when she’s nervous. I know exactly what diamond she wanted in her engagement ring and her favourite country. I know what people she despises and I know what people she adores. I know every inch of her face, every hair on her head, every sparkle in her eyes and every cell on her skin.

I know her.

I know her, but that can’t help me now. Pain ripples across the left side of my chest and my hand clamps over it as I grit my teeth to try and bear it. I hear the door creek open and can’t tell whether it comforts me or not.

“Grayson pookie!” Xander calls out, “we’re here.”

His cheerful voice doesn’t provide me with the cushion to this pain I thought it might.

“And we have some in incredibly strong whisky,” Jameson adds, I can here the mischievous grin in his voice, it’s been the same all of his life.

“My nose hairs are officially burnt off,” Xander agrees.

I can’t speak. I try to call out for them but the words die in my swollen throat.

“Where are you Gray?” Nash calls out, he sounds a little more worried than the other two but is concealing it well.

“Here,” my voice is hoarse and laboured, even I can’t recognise it.

The mood immediately shifts, you can feel it. The air becomes tainted with concern as their footsteps approach my cowering figure. The case of whiskey is dropped as there is an audible thunk as it hits the floor. I can feel their bodies enveloping around mine creating something of a circle of safety. I look up to worried face and shiny eyes.

“Help me,” I gasp for air, greedily trying to gulp down the oxygen that I feel so deprived of, “please.”

“We’re here to help you Gray,” Nash murmurs softly. His voice had always been something comforting, especially when I was younger. I wonder if he will be so kind when I tell him what I’ve done. He’s going to hate me, there’s nothing he despises more than a man who can’t respect a woman.

I shake my head and choke out another struggling sob, instead of the words I don’t know how to say. Jameson’s eyes flit between mine and Nash’s, the concern rippling across his features. He’s never looked this concerned for me in his life. I think to all the times as children I’d helped him settle after a nightmare and wiped his tears that he hated falling when the old man had humiliated him. Oh how the tables had turned. Now it was my little brother wiping my tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his touch so gentle it shocks me.

“I can’t-“ I barely get out, wrapping my hands around my neck.

“Gray…” he trails off, unmasked emotion hitting his face like a train.

“I can’t breathe,” I wheeze as the invisible blanket that was set out to suffocate me tightens over my nose and mouth.

“Hey, Gray, look at me,” Nash says, his voice smooth and reassuring, “in and out okay, in and out.”

“I can’t,” I pant, my limbs shaking embarrassingly uncontrollably.

Xander takes both of my hands into his and squeezes them until they still, “yes you can, follow Nash’s instructions okay?”

“Slowly, do it with me,” Nash nods, “in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

I do. In and out, a rhythmic pattern. Each time Nash reminds me how to breathe. There’s an aura of calmness about his voice that lulls my panic into a narcoleptic sleep. Once my breathing is halfway regulated I look at him, dead in the eye, with shaking sorrowful lips.

“I fucked up,” I sob, “I fucked up and I don’t know what to do.”

They all share a look, this is the worst state they’ve seen me and we all know it. I begin to pathetically sob uncontrollably once again, the feelings building up in my chest and tearing me apart from the inside out. It’s like a rabid pack of wolves had been set loose to feed on my internal organs. I don’t know how to stop the ocean of tears, I don’t know how to shut my mind off, I don’t know how to help myself. Reel myself in from this abominable mess I’ve become. I’m hyperventilating, my chest throbbing up and down unevenly. Nash nods towards Jameson, a short, soft, sharp nod of approval.

“Hey! Calm down!” Jameson snaps, giving me a hard slap around the face, “snap out of this!”

The shock shuts me up and the sting stops my tears. I’m back to reality instead of a wallowing mess. Nash must’ve been approving the slap I realise in the sudden cleared head I’d obtained

“Sorry,” Jameson mumbles at me, looking a little guilty.

I massage my jaw, “no I think I needed that.”

He grimaces and then softens his tone, “what happened Gray?”

I tense, growing very still, “I can’t say it out loud, I can’t, I’m awful, I’m horrible-“

“What happened?” Nash drawls.

I choke out yet another unnatural sound. Seems the slap didn’t snap me hard enough into reality. I exhale slowly. I have to say it, now or never.

“I kissed Lyra.”

The words hurt even more this time, that they did when I’d admitted it to y/n. Neither one of my brothers can mask their honest reaction.

“Oh fuck,” Jameson blurts out, “you cheated?”

Anger. He’s fuming with me. I can see the rage trailing through his eyes and blossoming into his expression.

“I didn’t mean to,” I reply, feeling like a small child.

Jameson’s eyes widen and fury flashes across his face, “how can you not mean-“

Nash shoots him a look and his mouth glues shut. Then he turns to me and I can’t quite read him yet. I gulp.

“No one does that kind of thing for no reason,” he says sternly, “I never thought you’d be the one of the four of us to ever do that, seems I was mistaken little brother.”

Disappointment. He’s disappointed. A horrible sinking feeling settles in my stomach. Nash is disappointed in me. It’s one of the worst feelings imaginable. There had only been few times in my life when he had been and I remember the feeling all too well. Shame has me in a chokehold an it’s succeeding in strangling me. I can‘t bring myself to meet his eyes, I don’t want to see that look I can feel is on his face, that look of pure disapproval.

“How did she find out?” Xander asks quietly.

Shock. He hadn’t said anything until now, but his lips had been slightly parted and he’d paled a little. He never thought I’d do this to anyone, he’s yet another person I’ve let down.

“I told her,” I murmur, “the guilt was consuming me.”

“As it should,” Jameson snaps, twitching with a fiery ferocity.

“Jamie,” Nash says, trying to keep some kind of diplomacy.

“No,” he growls, “you don’t do that to a girl, your girl, you can’t do that!”

“Don’t take the moral highground now,” I spit.

“When you’ve cheated on your girlfirend? Yeah I think I will,” he replies, the bitterness rolling off of his tongue like a deadly poison. He doesn’t know I’ve already poisoned myself with my own actions, his words can’t hurt me.

“I didn’t mean to,” I falter.

“Bullshit,” he grits through his teeth, in two definitive and threatening symbols.

“Careful Jamie,” Nash warns.

“All this is your fault anyway,” I continue, ignoring the warning.

“So it’s my fault, you kissed another girl, yeah, okay Gray,” he nods his head with a sarcastic smile.

“It is!” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air, “if you hadn’t locked me in a room with her-“

“So it’s my fault you couldn’t keep up dick under control,” he quips, interrupting me.

“You could’ve locked me with my one of my sisters but of course you just had choose the only girl who isn’t related to me,” I seethe.

“Odette isnt related to you,” Xander pipes up. I’d forgotten he was there, that anyone besides me and Jameson were there.

“Odette is old enough to be my grandmother,” I scowl at him, immediately feeling bad as the words leave my lips, but don’t dwell on it as I turn back to Jameson, “why did you make me a player in your sick excuse of a game?”

“You can’t use the game as an excuse,” he laughs darkly.

“I will,” I reply sharply, “this is your fault and Avery’s fault too.”

“Avery? Don’t make me laugh,” he rolls his eyes.

“The game never should’ve been created by her,” I yell, “that’s why I’m in this mess!”

“No, you’re in this mess because of you,” he shouts back, “but don’t you dare bring Avery in to this it’s not her fault.”

I feel like I’m one of those circus acts, the ones that lay on a spinning board and get knives hurled at them. Only in my case the knives are the truth and they actually hit me.

“Why did you make me a player?” I ask quieter now, my voice hoarse, “why?”

“I didn’t know making you a player would result in this,” he says.

“It was so irreverent,” I snap becoming angrier by the second, a sudden burst of red overriding any rational sense in my head, “I never needed to play.”

“You can’t pin this on me Gray, if it didn’t happen with Lyra, who knows who else it would’ve happened with,” he hisses.

“So you think I’m just like this? You think this is me?” I ask him, prodding the hollow space where my heart used to be.

“I didn’t before….” he trails off, sighing, “but now I don’t know what the fucking think of you.”

“Jamie,” Nash repeats again, in the same warning tone as before. We both ignore him.

“Just because you and Avery are all peaches and roses-“

“Leave Avery out of your anger issues,” he roars defensively.

“No,” I counter, raising an eyebrow, mirroring his usual argument demeanour, “you think you’re so perfect now you’ve got your dream girl and the two of you are so much better off than the rest of us, because your love is undeniable or whatever bullshit people feed you about it-“

Jameson’s features twitch for a split second. He’s hurt, but won’t show it. He’ll refuse but I know that it hit a nerve that won’t heal for a long time. I stop mid-sentence.

“I am far from perfect, I think we both know that,” he says, in a low voice, “look you’re hurting, I get it, but I’m not going to mollycoddle you and tell you it’s okay when it’s not. I’m not going to stand here and lie to your face because as your brother that would be the worst possible thing for me to do to you.”

“My brother would try and understand what it’s like from my side,” I say, desperation clawing at my voice.

“You’re looking for a fight Grayson and it’s not going to end well, not with me,” he warns, shaking his head.

“Maybe I do want a fight, but you know you do too,” I growl rolling up my sleeves, “so fine, I’ll give you a fight Jamie.”

“I don’t want a fight, I want some justice for y/n,” he states simply, “she did nothing to deserve that Gray, she’s been so good to you, the sweetest soul on this earth and she’s helped you through a lot of shit and this is how you’re repaying her?”

“Jameson,” Nash says.

He ignores him for the third time and I can see his calm facade beginning to drop, “you think because you called a 911 and you’re here crying that I should feel sorry for you?”

“I thought you were going to be here for me,” I reply numbly, my tone dead, “clearly I’m mistaken.”

“I can’t be there for someone with no morals,” he replies, “you cheated and you’re the one who’s upset about it, how do you think she feels?”

“You think I don’t know her?” I fire back, my throat burning, “you think I don’t know exactly what she’s doing right now? I hate myself, I hate myself for doing what I did!”

“Good you should!” he screams back.

Before I know it I feel myself charges towards him, ready to throw a good punch but Nash and Xander launch onto me to quickly and managing to hold me back. Nash’s grip is so tight I don’t dare try and budge.

“Out. Now.” Nash says sharply to Jameson, “go and cool off.”

His tone sends a shiver down my spine that I won’t admit to. Jameson opens his mouth to argue.

“Jameson.”

He skulks away, with a sullen face. We all wait frozen until the door has been slammed shut. Nash lets my arm go, dropping it harshly and Xander follows suit.

“And you’re no better,” he turns to me, placing his cowboy hat on a nearby surface, “I’m only sending him away because you can’t be left alone in this mess and so the two of you don’t rip each other to pieces.”

Silence stills the room. His voice echoes but makes no sound all at the same time.

“Take a second, take a breath and we’re going to talk this through like adults,” he says, “if you want to carry on being a child then leave. Calm down, you’re not a toddler having a tantrum, you’re a grown man, act like it.”

Nash has a way of snapping me back to reality. I nod shakily.

“Talk.”

I begin, “I don’t even know why I kissed her, I didn’t mean to it just-“

“Happened?” he guesses, “no little brother, that doesn’t just happen.”

“The I don’t know Nash,” I say, tipping my head back and resting it on the wall behind me.

I hadn’t meant for it to happen. I didn’t want it to happen. It just did. She was there, just stood there. Her hands looped naturally around the back of my neck, warm and gentle, “someone sent me that ticket Grayson. I thought it was Avery but if it wasn’t…”

She trails off, her voice small and tentative. Her golden eyes filled with the utmost worry. I wanted her to know she’d be okay, that she’d have someone to keep her safe. Her arms get more comfortable around my neck. She’d felt it too, the electrifying spark between us. It was exhilarating but something about it was off, synthetic.

“Then who the hell was it?” I questioned, my hands magnetised to her cheek all of a sudden.

Lyra didn’t pull away and neither did I. I lower my head and she raised onto her toes and titled hers back a little. She was graceful, like a dancer. My lips brushed over hers. They were sweet like honey. For the first few moments it was bliss and the realisation hit, like a stone to my stomach. I jerked backwards suddenly, shaking my head.

“I can’t do this,” I said, my fingers trying to wipe her taste off of my lips, “I don’t- this isn’t-“

I was tongue-tied, not able to explain to her how wrong it was. The words wouldn’t work the way I wanted them to.

“Gray?” Lyra murmurs, a tender voice. Her amber eyes are widened and slightly confused.

“No,” I yell. She flinches and another wave of horribly strong emotion rushes over me, drowning me. “No I’m in love with someone else. I don’t know what that was. I can’t-“

I stumbled backward a few steps and the turned around and ran. Like the coward that I am.

“It did just happen,” I murmur, lifting my head from the wall to look my older brother in eye, “I swear to god, I didn’t intend for it to happen, I didn’t even know I had feelings for her.”

I can see he disagrees still and isn’t convinced. I don’t know how to prove it to him.

“Let’s establish one thing here, who do you like?” Xander asks me.

“I like Lyra,” I say slowly, “but I love y/n.”

Nash shakes his head, “if you loved her you wouldn’t have done that.”

“I made a mistake,” I press on.

“And you will pay for it and regret it for the rest of your life,” he shrugs, “it’s not what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. Listen, I love Libby and loving someone means so many things. One of those things is that I don’t even look at other women, to me they don’t even really exist. Libby is my world and no one else even comes into the equation, so the fact is someone else came into the equation for you, meaning the love wasn’t there.”

“But it was, I felt it,” I say, my voice breaking as I press my chest.

“What do you feel for Lyra?” he asks plainly.

“I don’t know, she’s intriguing and smart and beautiful,” I murmur, “and I like her, but I don’t know if I have romantic feelings for her.”

“Then why did you kiss her?”

“Comfort? Lust? Greed? Selfishness? I don’t know it just happened,” I repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Stop using that phrase as a get out clause,” Nash shakes his head, “you have to admit to yourself more than anyone that this didn’t just happen.”

“I leaned in and I put my lips of hers, and I didn��t stop it, it didn’t feel wrong straight away,” I admit out loud finally.

“It didn’t?” Xander says, looking wounded.

“No, it didn’t feel wrong until I realised what I’d done,” I say, looking down, suddenly finding my shoelaces to be the most interesting thing in the world.

No one replies for a long while. That’s when I realise how exhausted I truly am and how much I crave sleep.

“I vouched for you,” Xander says quietly, “I told her that you’d never do that, that you weren’t that guy.”

“I’m not,” I say, in denial at first. I take a moment to analyse his sentence and then come to a sickening realisation, “oh my god I am…”

“She was already anxious about where your loyalties were Gray,” he winces.

“I proved her right, I proved every worry she had right, I just proved to her that she shouldn’t have trusted me,” I spiral, hating that I hadn’t seen it sooner.

Xander looks to Nash for support for a reply.

“Yeah,” Nash sighs, “you did.”

“I need to fix this, there has to be a way-“

“Grayson,” the acuteness of his voice cuts through my sentence like a machete.

I freeze and clamp my mouth firmly shut.

“This isn’t a broken vase, you can’t glue it back together or buy a new one,” he tells me softly.

He was referring to a time where Jameson and I had been seven and eights years old. We’d been brawling of course, Hawthorne style and accidentally smashed a vase. Usually it wouldn’t matter, there were vases all over Hawthorne House and they were smashed frequently. But this wasn’t just any vase. It was nan’s priceless vase that had belonged to her daughter, our grandmother, Alice. We were never allowed within a five mile radius of it, but like the rebellious children we were, we didn’t listen. Through our fight we’d smashed the whole thing, it was truly destroyed. The two of us stayed up for nights on need gluing together the pieces only to realise it was never going to look like the original again. So we’d hunted to buy another, problem was, this vase was one of a kind. It turned out after four weeks or trying to ship a similar one in that nan had known the whole time. She didn’t speak to either of us for a good few months.

“This is real life, she is a real person and you hurt her,” he explains, “fixing this isn’t an option. There isn’t a way to fix it, there are no pieces to our back together, okay?”

I’m silent but it’s the loudest voice in the room. My face pinches together in agony. For the first time, a little of the disappointment fades and my brother’s face softens. He wraps a strong arm around me and I flop into him like a lifeless bag of nothingness. I bury my head into his shoulder and try to cry but there seems to be no tears left. He understands and holds me for a moment. Suddenly I’m six years old again and crying in Nash’s in my arms over Jameson hiding my favourite teddy bear at the time, then I’m eleven in his arms with pneumonia after being stupid enough to get caught in the rapids un the dead of winter wanting a good photograph of a rare fish, then I’m seventeen, crying over a redheaded girl who I thought I’d managed to murder. And now here I am, at twenty-two years old in his grasp once again, having made the greatest mistake of my life.

Suddenly I feel another set of arms wrap around the both of us.

“Group hug!” a familiar voice sings.

Leave it to Xander to make me crack a half smile in the darkest moments I’ve ever experienced. After a while I pull away and sigh.

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” I ask, pulling away.

“Honestly?” Xander asks.

I nod

“No,” he says. I wish I could see that little glimmer of a lie in his eyes, but I can’t. And it kills me.

“Think about it like this,” he sighs, “would you forgive Eve for what she did?”

“This is not the same thing,” I reply coldly.

“Eve cheated your trust, she betrayed you,” he explains gently, “that’s exactly how she feels.”

Dread fills my every pore as I murmur lifelessly, “I’m as bad as Eve.”

“No wait,” he says, looking guilty and panicked all at the same time, “that’s not what I meant!”

“I know,” I reassure him so some of his guilt subsides, “but it’s true and now I’ve just realised.”

“Look Gray, you aren’t Eve. You’re never going to be Eve, but think of how you felt then. That’s how y/n feels,” Nash soothes, “she’s not going to just forgive you, that’s not how it works.”

“You just broke her heart Gray,” Xander adds, careful to keep his tone as light as a feather, “for a girl you just met.”

“Why am I horrible person? Why do I always find a way to mess to something good?” I groan, smacking my head on the wall behind me. There’s an audible thump as pain spreads through the back of my skull. I wonder if I can concuss myself to forget all of this, but I don’t attempt the idea.

“You don’t-“

“No I do,” I say firmly, cutting him off, “I’m not meant for love, to love or to be loved, I’m not built for it. I’m not a good enough person for it. I’m never going to find my Libby or my Max or my Avery.“

“Grayson-“ Nash begins.

“Emily knew it and now so does y/n,” I snap.

My brothers still at her name, not moving a muscle. I never bring up Emily.

“Listen to me,” Nash says sharply, getting my attention, “you are meant to be loved. You are meant to love. I love you, Xander loves you, Jameson loves you and y/n loved you too…”

The change of tense makes my soul ache.

“…but this time around, you made a mistake, a costly mistake. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love.”

I nod numbly, robotically.

“What can I do to make it up to her?” I ask, my voice beginning to tremble, “to show her I’m sorry? Something there has to be something.”

Nash gives me a grim look and Xander’s face remains blank, they’re the only answers I need. My head sinks into my hands. The door reopens and I look back up. Jameson has returned.

He meets my eyes, “Avery’s with her.”

Blood surges through my heart and I can almost smile. He checked on her. For me.

“Is she okay?” I ask quickly.

Jameson looks at me and for a split second I almost see the ghost concern is his eyes. He shakes his head softly, “no, but she will be,” he replies, it’s an attempt to comfort me and I am grateful.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

“I’m not apologising for what I said, because I still stand by it and you won’t change my mind,” Jameson says, “but I am sorry for being so angry about it.”

“You were right,” I whisper, “you were right about me. I never deserved her, so was nothing but an angel to me and I just turned around and threw it all away. I abused the luxury I had, I stabbed her in the back and then gifted another with the knife, I’m a horrible person.”

“What you did was wrong, but that’s doesn’t make you a horrible person,” he sighs, “you need time Gray, this is going to take a lot of healing. On both sides.”

“I don’t deserve to heal, I deserve to be in pain,” I murmur, the dullness in my tone echos around the empty walls.

“Oh no, we’re not going back to emo Grayson,” Xander says quickly, shaking his head.

“I agree with Xander on this one,” Nash nods, readjusting his cowboy hat.

“I don’t want to hear you blasting my chemical romance at three a.m and then denying it later again, you came out of that phase we’re not going back there,” Jameson tells me.

I bark out a laugh that thaws my icy chest. I then bite the inside of my cheek.

“I can’t fix this, can I?” I say, looking at the ground,

Nash shakes his head softly.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t be fixed,” Xander says.

“You’ll get through this Gray,” Jamie agrees, “I know it.”

The room grows still.

“Can we drink that whiskey now?” I ask, to cut through the silence. I feel like getting drunk, I feel like I need some relief.

“Big brother,” Xander nods at Nash handing him the bottle.

“Little brother,” he tips his cowboy hat in reply before taking the bottle into his hands and cracking it open.

“Let me pour these things properly,” Nash grins, “Jamie, come help.”

“Wait me too!” Xander jumps up,

“Stay with Gray,” he shakes his head.

“I don’t need to be babysat,” I grumble, annoyance written all over my face.

“I want to watch them pour whiskey properly,” Xander explains, “so I can impress Max.”

My eyebrows fly to my forehead, “Max drinks?”

“No I want to impress her though,” he grins.

‘You’re an odd human,” I almost laugh, tilting my head to the side.

“Why ta very much!” he says, almost skipping away.

Once I know they’re all gone, I lean back on the wall, my heart feeling a tiny bit less heavy. The pain isn’t gone. I think I’ve just gone numb. I feel hollow, empty, nothingness. Guilt is still gnawing at my insides but slower. A satifying clink against the fragile rim of the glass takes me out of my own head for a split second. There are hushed voices from the kitchen, I notice. I walk over to the door that lay ajar, I lean in to listen.

“We need to tell him,” it sounds like Jameson.

“Not now,” the accent indicates Nash.

“Then when?” Xander’s voice asks, “how long can we prolong it.”

“I can hear you,” I tell them, raising my voice a little.

They turn to face me, awkwardly remaining silent. The expressions on their faces don’t offer me comfort.

“Whatever it is, spit it out,” I say, “it’s not like tonight could get any worse.”

They share a look. Apparently it can. I feel sick to my stomach.

I can barely breathe, “who died?”

“No one has died,” Xander says quickly, “yet.”

“What?” I say, my tone deadly,

Nash glares at him, then turns back to me. There’s sorrow laced delicately, deep within his hazel irises.

“Gray,” he says gently, “Gray we hate to do this but…”

“What? What is it?” I ask urgently.

“Gigi’s missing.”

The words shock me to my core. I feel my throat begin the close up as panic returns with a smirk and triumphant greeting. My whole world has collapsed in less than 24 hours.

***

YOUR POV

I don’t hate him. Call me naive or call me stupid. But I don’t. I don’t think I ever could. The kind of love I have for him is unconditional, irrevocable. Time can’t heal a wound this deep and although it is still fresh now, I can tell. But if he were to say sorry I think I would forgive him every time. And if he asked me back I’d fall into his arms into an instant. And I hate myself for it, it’s stupid and it’s a little cruel. How easily I would take him back after what he did. I know I shouldn’t but something inside of me is drawn to him. Like an invisible magnet has been planted in our hearts. I wish I didn’t love so hard, fall so deeply, maybe I wouldn’t get hurt so badly. But it’s in my nature, it’s who I am. I wonder if he knows how much pain I’m in, the rippling agony that rolls across my chest relentlessly with no hint as to when it will cease. I’m tired of being the second choice but unfortunately I wouldn’t mind being his. And I know it’s completely stupid of me to think that way, completely wrong but love makes you do stupid things so they say. I sit on the beach, by the sea in a state of numbness. Silent tears roll down my tears as the waves lap my feet. Deja vu washes over me and the memories of Grayson and I the night of the game flash through my mind.

I grip his hand and run with him as he guides me the just beyond the shore. He sits down swiftly on the sand and pulls me down to sit between his legs. I lean my back onto his chest and let him nuzzle his face into my collarbone.

“I love you,” he whispers, kissing my neck, “only you.”

Only me, huh? Only me…

The waves crash against the rocks, hurtling a salty spray towards me. I hear footsteps and turn around. Avery stands there, a mournful expression over her delicate face. She knows. I stumble towards her and collapse into her arms in a fit of uncontrollable sobs now and she holds me. Her touch is gentle and warm but it’s nothing compared to his. I realise he might never hold me in his arms again and I cry even harder.

***

I don’t hold Lyra accountable. She is not to blame. Some girls in my position might dream about different ways to brutally murder her but I can only ask what comfort would it bring me? My feelings are already dead, what good is more pain doing?

There was a choice that Grayson Hawthorne was given: his dancer or his angel. He chose his dancer and I hope he’s happy. Because angels have wings and we rise up stronger.

idk guys I think I wrote Grayson’s POV really awfully to be honest… also I feel like the 911 meet up was not like their normal ones where they try and like do something (e.g drink or dare) and then talk about the pain but that’s bc Grayson was in such a mess and then they had to drop the bomb that Gigi was missing. so anywayyyss…

I am sorry this took so long and I hope it lived up to any expectation you wanted it too (sorry if it didn’t) and I hope you enjoyed 🤍🤍 thanks for reading as always

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ferrstappen · 2 years ago

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aren't we supposed to surprise you? l Charles Leclerc blurb

pairing: dad!Charles Leclerc x female reader.

you can find more of my version of dad Charles' here <3

summary: you somehow manage to overshadow Charles and Jo's gift.

Charles was an anxious man. Even more so since Josephine was born two years ago.

Yes, people laughed at him but he didn't care, he was going to sprint towards his daughter every time she took a wrong step and fell down, or his system would shut down whenever her lower lip trembled. Charles could communicate with his daughter through her eyes, they told him everything he needed to know in the meantime before she learned how to properly express herself.

They were an unstoppable duo, everybody knew that, but Charles was aware the reason both him and Jo could feel at ease and safe was you, and maybe he didn't remind you enough of that.

His mother and younger brother accompanied him to the various shops around Monaco, Pascale having to fight Charles to let her carry the stroll on the street, Arthur shaking his head at Charles' antics, playfully pitying his niece.

"I am going to make sure to take her to the worst tattoo parlors and pubs when she's older and then I'm showing you the images so you can die of a heart attack," Arthur teased his brother, earning a glare from Charles while being chastised by his mother, but the youngest Leclerc saw a smile on his mom's face.

Arthur winked at his niece and she giggled. Lorenzo had no chance of ever being the favorite uncle.

They entered different shops, not wanting to go for the typical jewelry and overly expensive designer clothing and accessories. No, Charles wanted to give you something you'd truly appreciate, something for you to relax and show yourself some love and distraction. Now it was turn for Arthur to carry Josephine while teasing his brother for being a simp.

A couple of books he thought you'd enjoy, different colored bath bombs, luxurious soaps and candles were some of the goods you were going to receive for Mother's Day.

Dad and baby Leclerc arrived got home greeted by the smell of coffee and some kind of pastry. It smelled like Charles' dream life; his life.

You smiled at Charles and gave him a quick peck on the lips before taking Josephine from his arms, your daughter babbling about papa and maman.

It was past midnight, Josephine sound asleep on her room after both you and Charles read her a short book in Italian, trying to accustom her to the language, all while you marveled at how Charles did the different voices and intonations.

Now it was just you and him in bed, his naked chest against your own skin, while his familiar hand found its place on your thigh, drawing shapeless figures, enjoying the peace of having you with him.

"I have to tell you something," You made sure to not make eye contact with Charles, hiding your face against his neck.

Charles chuckled with your reaction, "What is it and why are you hiding, bebé?" He tried to get you to face him.

"I know this wasn't planned or anything," you began talking but know Charles felt tears on his chest, it got him worried and helped you sit on the bed while assuring you whatever it was, you'd be able to find a solution.

"Babe, I'm two months pregnant," you announced and Charles placed his hand on his mouth in astonishment.

"No, in Bahrein?" Charles blurted out and a smile appeared on your face, of course that would be his first reaction as his brain processed the news.

You didn't know what you were expecting, maybe it was a problem because Josephine was still too young, maybe Charles didn't want another baby, you never really discussed it after Jo was born, but even in the dark his glossy green eyes were shining as his hand found its known place on your neck, his thumb softly caressing your cheek before lovingly kissing you.

those one of a kind kisses, the ones that were special and held so many emotions. neither of you could hide the smile appearing, only smiling at each other, Charles still caressing your cheek.

but suddenly he dropped his hand to your thigh, an unreadable expression on his face.

"But it's mother day and you're surprising me? No, I have this whole thing planned!" Charles protested and this made your eyes tear up, now it was your time to find his lips.

God, maybe it was time for a boy to mimic his dad.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #dad!charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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soft4gguk · 5 months ago

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to build a home | chapter fifteen

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 12.2k

Warnings: oof. let me keep it brief so i don’t spoil too much! it’s angsty. a looooong walk down memory lane. reminiscing. its kinda sad. but lucy’s holds oc through it all! bathroom quickie lol. unprotected sex (do better ok). a lil choking. a lil spanking. jk being an ass man!!!!! team mingyus u get to see ur boy!!! big gasp towards the end.

Author’s note: oh, boy! what have i DONE? lol. i’m not gonna say much. only that i love y’all with all my heart and i truly cannot wait to book club the fuck out of this chappie. sending x’s & o’s your way, always!!!!! <33333

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Fifteen

In the forty minutes you sleep, you manage to dream. It’s soft, tender and blue. It’s the ocean and Jungkook’s face, the sand on your toes, on your hands, falling from your fingers and getting caught in the wind, some landing on your face. He calls your name, beckoning you over, smile inviting as he walks backwards into the vastness of the sea. You smile, on your feet in no time before you’re running towards him, feet splashing salty water all over as you join him. You’re in his arms the second you’re close enough to him, legs wrapped around his waist as he lets his body fall into the water, deep, blue, your body never letting go of his.

Your eyes open gently, head on his chest in the same position you’d fallen asleep in. Soori’s babbles coming from the baby monitor sound muffled as you incorporate yourself back into consciousness. Jungkook’s body is warm against the palm of your hand, breath steady as his chest rises and falls. You look up at him, not ready to leave his side, not ready to do what your brain demands of you the moment you start slipping into wakefulness. You close your eyes, snuggle your head in his chest once more, arm wrapping around him as you pull him closer to you ever so gently. He reciprocates your actions in his sleep, arm wrapping tighter around you as his head sinks further into the pillows. Soori’s not crying, you could probably stay like this for twenty more minutes, wrapped in his arms, closing your eyes and letting your mind and body be consumed with him so you don’t have to think. To really think.

But you know it’s no use. You know that it’s over, whether you grant yourself the thirty minutes or not. It makes your heart ache, too weak to feel anger anymore. Too weak to even protest and try to put up a fight. You feel tears well up in the corner of yours eyes, and if you let them fall now, they won’t be able to stop. You pull away from him, your movements gentle as to not wake him up. You feel the bed move, making you stop in your tracks and glancing back to make sure he’s not awake. He simply lays on his side, snuggling himself into a pillow, his breathing letting you know that he’s still in deep sleep. You let yourself look at him, taking in his face, his body. He’s so beautiful it hurts. He’s so beautiful your heart begins to regain its strength some, becoming aware of him, swimming through the mud, about to beg you to keep going. But your brain is faster as you close your eyes, turning around and heading for the door. God, it hurts. It hurts to wake up, it hurts to walk. It hurts to feel him all over your body, the traces of the night you just shared still taking over your senses. His smell, his touch, the exhaustion that takes over you that borders as sweet because your body remains in that fucked out bliss only he knows how to put you in.

The most reasonable part of you begs you to be strong.

The most tender part of you begs you to turn back around.

You leave his room.

You’re basically on your tiptoes, closing the door behind you gently, abstaining from making any noise. You think you manage pretty well, chanting victory a little too soon as you turn around and pretty much jump in place, hand coming to your mouth as you let out a yelp at the sight of Lucy standing in the hallway.

“Good morning,” she says, jutting her hip out and tapping her feet on the ground as she crosses her arms in front of her body.

“You scared the living shit out of me,” you whisper yell at her.

“Of course I did, because you just got caught.”

You sigh, admitting defeat. “Come get Soori with me. She’s awake.”

“Will you explain?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she says, opening the door to your room. “Put some pants on first. And panties.”

“Shit,” you say, looking back at Jungkook’s room.

“No use now. He’s got himself a souvenir.”

“Don’t be witty right now,” you tell her, rummaging through your bags to find a pair of pants. And panties.

“___, you were bawling your eyes out last night. I was literally scared you’d put yourself through dehydration or something. So imagine my surprise when Jimin wakes me up in the middle of the night to tell me that it sounded like someone was doing construction work inside of Jungkook’s room.”

You bring your hand to your mouth, eyes widening in surprise at her words. “Oh my God.”

“Relax. He went to get a glass of water, we couldn’t hear anything. I’m sure nobody did.”

“Thank God,” you sigh.

“That is not the point. What is going on, ___?”

“It’s a long story,” she’s about to protest, “I’ll tell you over breakfast. Let’s get Soori first, though.”

She lets out a sigh of relief. “Let’s.”

And so you begin the recount of events.

As you get Soori out of bed, you begin to tell her about that night, omitting any explicit details, of course. You tell her how you told him you loved him, tell her about his silence, about the way you dismissed your words in fear he wouldn’t reciprocate them. She passes you one of Soori’s sundresses, a cute black and white polka dotted one.

“And what happened then?” She asks, rummaging through the suitcase Jungkook had packed for her and looking for a bow to match.

“He didn’t say it back.”

“Oh,” she says, face falling even though she knew that much would be true.

“Yeah. I guess at first I was just trying for it not to… hurt as much as it did. Sunday was nice, we spent the whole day by the pool with Soo. I don’t know. It almost made me feel like I could live with it, you know? With the fact that he hadn’t said it back.”

“Yeah, I get you. We like to tell ourselves lies to keep our feelings at bay. It’s a woman thing.”

The three of you sit on the floor, Soori in the middle as you brush her hair and get to work on her little pigtails whilst Lucy plays with her, helping her stack her pink wooden cubes on top of one another. You tell her about your rollercoaster of emotions, going through a failed attempt at suppressing your feelings, then the feminine rage all the way to the sadness plummeting so hard through you it made you restless.

“I should’ve known. Nobody sings Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan like that for no reason.”

You laugh, albeit weakly. “Don’t feel bad. I knew that the moment I told you, it’d be real.”

“No, I get that. But I just can’t believe that you went through all of this by yourself. I wish I could’ve… been there.”

You put a hand on top of hers, Soori following in your steps as she puts her chubby hand on top of yours, making the both of you laugh. Lucy looks at Soori, then back at you, concern lacing her features as she asks,

“Then what happened?”

You make your way down the stairs, Soori on your hip as she babbles sweet nothings to her giraffe and Lucy follows suit. You tell her about the book you’d found in Jungkook’s living room, the one filled with pictures of him and Ira.

“God, they were really in love, weren’t they?”

“Yeah. Seems like it.”

“What on Earth happened?” Lucy asks, making her way into the kitchen, reaching down to pick Soori’s giraffe up that she’d dropped, smiling at her as she places it back in her hands.

“That’s the thing, I don’t know. I have no clue about what could’ve possibly driven her to…,” you halt your words, not wanting to finish the sentence in front of Soori, as oblivious as she was right now as you sat her down on her high chair.

“Jimin has said things to me,” she starts, her words a bit weak. “I mean, nothing much. Or too specific. But he told me Jungkook tried. He told me he really tried. He was a good partner to her… just like he’s a good dad to Soori.”

“You know, it’s funny. I never once for a second thought he wasn’t.”

“I did. I mean- you know him better than I do. And it all sounded so complex to me I thought that maybe he’d driven her away. But Jimin- he talks about Ira with so much spite. Almost hatred. And they used to be close. I mean, she’s in a picture frame at his parents’ house, for God’s sake! He made them remove it, of course, but-” you take her words in, looking into her eyes. “I don’t know. He tried and she left. That’s all I’ve gathered from what he’s said.”

“Yeah. I guess the picture book really made me realize that… they’d loved each other. Very much.”

“What happened then?”

You look at her, a bit of shame lacing your features. You look at the kitchen counter, remembering that night.

“Well,” you start and your tone of voice gives you away.

“Oh, brother.”

You tell her about that night, in code, of course. Tell her about how it’d been a weak moment for you, how the little altercation you’d had before had set the mood for the tension to be released in one way or the other. And well, you were only human. A bit weak at times. You also tell her how it made you feel even sadder, though. How having him physically but not emotionally was really beginning to take a toll on you the more you pondered on your situation. You both get started with breakfast, cutting Soori’s fruit and putting some on her high chair before you get to frying eggs, mashing avocados, toasting bread, making coffee. You tell her about your sad girl hours, well into the night.

“I’ve stalked all of Jimin’s exes on Instagram. It was pure torture. I can’t imagine having so much access to her on Google. I think it would send me spiraling,” she says, passing you the spatula.

“Oh, it did. The worst part is that I couldn’t hate her. I mean, there she was, on my phone screen, looking perfect with her sweet, low voice, saying all the right things. How can I hate her?” You flip your egg.

“I’ve heard a lot of those things are fabricated, though.”

“I don’t know, Lu. The way Mai and Taehyung talk about her in that book… it was all adding up.”

She sighs, taking a sip of her latte, passing a tiny square of avocado toast to Soori that she’d cut up. She takes it, smiling at her, making her swoon. She gets your attachment to her now. She’s so sweet.

You decide to take breakfast to the garden, the morning serene before you, sky settling into darker shades of Blue. The waves of the ocean can be heard from where you stand and the air feels fresh, clean. You tell her about Jungkook closing his deal, about the night you’d called her in a desperate bout, asking her what to wear. You tell her about Lily. She understands, doesn’t judge when you tell her how jealous you’d felt, how it’d made your blood boil as she threw innuendos at him.

“Oh, I would’ve-,” she looks over at Soori, who blows a raspberry before shoving a piece of egg right into her mouth. “She would’ve heard a number from me, certainly.”

“What can I say, though? Yeah, Lily. Don’t flirt with my- my boss! Who I have romantic feelings for because he talks to me so very sweetly and he,” you look down at Soori. “He is really good at… frolicking me.”

She lets out a loud laugh, hand covering her mouth as she’s mid bite. “Fair enough. Ugh!”

You laugh a little, too. Your heart finding respite in your best friend. “I know. So annoying.”

“I mean, he is quite handsome, ___.”

“Yeah. I never wanted to get a paper bag over his head more.”

She chuckles at your words, shaking her head before she’s sighing for what feels like the millionth time today. “Then what happened?”

You look up at her, bringing your iced coffee to your lips and taking a sip.

“We frolicked.”

“___! What is it with this vicious cycle you’re in?”

“I don’t know! It just keeps happening! In my defense, he just… frolicked me with his-,” you point at your tongue. “That’s all we did.”

“That is not the feminist act you think it is.”

You chuckle. “Trust me, I know.”

“But then again, I can’t blame you.”

“You should.”

“I would never.”

You smile at her. It’s almost funny, the way your chest feels a little lighter, the way you can laugh through it all, even as you walk down memory lane on some of the saddest days of your life. Lucy was magic.

“I was emotionally hungover the next day. All I could think about was how I was standing under Ira’s shadow. How maybe… I don’t know, he’d never be able to love me the way he loved her.”

“I get that. I mean, those are some big shoes to fill. And it has nothing to do with you. It’s more so all the years they spent together, everything they went through, you know,” she nods in Soori’s direction, “the whole ass child they had together.”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

“So… what exactly happened yesterday? You were in pretty bad shape.”

You tell her about Mingyu. About what Jungkook said to you. She flinches, eyes squinting as she viscerally reacts to his low blow.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. Ouch.”

“So much to unpack here.”

“Good luck trying.”

“I mean, he was jealous. Dare I say, he is jealous. And I mean, I can almost understand him. Not saying you did anything wrong, but he did walk inside his kitchen and there you were, drinking peppermint tea with his friend, wearing his navy blue Ralph Lauren sweater!”

“It was bad judgment on my part, I can admit. But also, I didn’t mean for it to mean anything. I was just… cold. And dumb.”

“You are not dumb. He’s dumb! Because if he would’ve been aware of you, if he got his head of out his ass then he would’ve been the one drinking peppermint tea with you and you would’ve been wearing his navy blue Ralph Lauren sweater. I bet you they have the same one.”

Her words make you laugh. “His words sure did sting, though.”

“Duh, no wonder. He was a bit brutal.”

“Like, does he really think I would do something like that?”

“And what if you did? I mean, ethically speaking, flirting with your boss’ friend is wrong. But, flirting with… a guy. At a BBQ? What’s wrong with that!”

“He’s his friend, Lucy.”

“And that’s what he gets for not making it exclusive and going back and forth with his little boy feelings! Playing with yours in the process!”

“It’s more complicated than that,” you defend.

“___,” she huffs, taking your hand in hers and looking into your eyes. “You are in a situationship.”

“Oh, God,” you gasp.

“With a grown ass man. A twenty eight year old male Paris Hilton.” You store that remark for when you need a laugh in the future, right now you’re too busy digesting her words. “Who also happens to be your boss. The person that puts food in your plate.”

“I know!”

“Yeah!”

“God!”

“Christ, even!”

“Fuck.” you whisper.

“I take it you guys didn’t really talk about what happened last night, you just got to… frolicking?”

“Yeah.” You lower your head in shame. “I just- I told myself that it was going to be the last time. That I’d confront him today- well, confront is a big word. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to make this any harder than it already is. Plus, I have to think about Soori. I can’t leave her. We’re just gonna have to learn how to be civil about all of this.”

“So you’re breaking up with him?” She sounds surprised. You frown.

“Breaking up is a big word for Elmo. We are not together.”

She decides to store your remark for a future laugh, she’s too busy digesting your words right now. “Just like that?”

“Just like what, Lu? I mean, what else is there? I- I pour my heart out to him. I tell him I love him. I give him all the time in the world for him to say it back. Say anything back! And nothing. He doesn’t love me. And it’s hurting me, Lucy. It’s hurting me so bad. The uncertainty, the hiding, the back and forth. I don’t think I can take it any longer.”

Lucy takes it all in. Sees the pain in your eyes, hears the desperation in your words. She feels it, too. Not just because she’s your best friend, and truly, genuinely believes you guys are connected through celestial magic, but also because she knew the feeling a little too well. The heart ache, the restless feeling that takes over you when love isn’t reciprocated, the anxiety of it all. She knows what it feels like to be so close to giving up.

“You’re right,” she says. “You’re right, ___. You don’t deserve any of it. You don’t deserve having to sit through the uncertainty, you don’t deserve to be with someone that keeps you a secret. You don’t deserve to feel any of what you’ve felt in these past couple of weeks.” Her saying the words back to you hurt more than you uttering them, and it makes you realize that you were perhaps hoping she’d say the opposite. “It must’ve been horrible – to bare your heart out to him like that and not hearing it back. It must’ve been horrible to have to see him every day. For him to be completely oblivious towards your feelings.”

“Yeah.” Your words are faint, barely there.

Matter of fact, Lucy knows what it’s like to give up entirely. To completely submit yourself to what you so strongly believe is fate. She thinks of Jimin, a smile forming at her lips like muscle memory at the mere thought of him. She thinks of how deflated her heart felt the day she met him, how her pillow had been silent witness to her tears just the night before after she’d longingly stared at her computer screen, some love story making her crave what she thought could only be found in movies and fairy tales. She’d given up, yes. She’d sworn off men, had encouraged herself to be a little more realistic. To use her logic when it came to romance.

Jimin had dismantled all of that with only five words.

“Hi. I’m Jimin, and you?”

“But I don’t think you’ve tried hard enough.” Her words make you flinch, looking at her with confusion, feeling a little defensive from the get go. “Listen to me. Yes, you did the big, brave thing. You told him you loved him, you sat through the dismissal his words provoked, you cried all the tears and sang along to all the sad songs in the world. You probably watched Pride and Prejudice a couple of times, too.” It frightens you a little, how she knows you so well. “And that’s all valid. And honestly, fuck him for making you feel like that. I hope he steps on a lego, like, every day for the rest of his life. But also,” she pauses for a bit, leaning closer to you. “You didn’t talk to him. You didn’t tell him any of this that you’re telling me. Yes, he’s oblivious, but your silence basically encouraged it. Yes, he’s dense but you didn’t open up to him enough so as to know if it’s coming out of malice. Which, frankly, I don’t believe. As much as he is not on my good graces right now,” she rolls her eyes, “I don’t think he meant to… hurt you.”

“I know, but-” you don’t know, actually. Your silence proving that much and so she continues.

“That day… when he showed up at our door, I didn’t know what was happening. All I knew was that my best friend was in bed, feeling sad, and wouldn’t tell me why. And then I opened the door, and there he was, looking all… sad. I almost wanted to slam the door on his face because I knew he was the reason, it all made sense to me right then and there. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because he looked like he knew he’d… lost something. Something he wasn’t quite sure he could get back. He looked scared. And so I let him in.”

“He did a shitty thing that day.”

“I know. It was very shitty. I truly hope the legos aren’t upside down. But,” she takes a breath, collecting her words for a second. “I guess, ever since that day I’ve been trying to decipher him. To decipher what he feels for you. It’s quite hard since, you know, you guys have to hide from the world or whatever. So I’ve taken to just… observing him. I’ve taken to looking at him when he’s looking at you. You barely notice, and I’m almost glad you don’t. I feel like if you would you’d break the little magic the moment holds. Maybe he’d shy away from the way his eyes get all shiny and he smiles in a way that lets me know he’s not really aware of it. And so a part of me is relieved, because I know that whatever it is, the feeling is pure. I went up to your bedroom yesterday because when I looked at him… he looked just the way he had that day in our front door.”

“Do you think he loves me?”

Lucy’s heart breaks a little when you ask her, ever so faintly, a question that she doesn’t think she can answer. But nonetheless, she smiles, taking your hand in hers.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if he loves you, ___. I don’t even know that he knows. Or that he can even become aware of it after all he’s been through. All I know is that you haven’t tried hard enough to figure it out. And it should never take a toll on your heart. It should never break you the way it did. But also, I think the reason why it did is because you had to carry the weight of it alone. I think… I think he would’ve at least been willing to help.”

“I don’t know, Lu…”

“Yeah. You don’t. Nobody knows. That’s the tricky side of it all. The one we run from the most because it means that we have to be even more vulnerable. Because we know we’re risking even worse of a heart break. But, could you live with yourself knowing you didn’t at least try? And I mean, really tried.”

“No.” The words come out of you before you can even think her question through.

“Then you owe yourself at least that. Not him, not even my sappy, romantic self. You.”

You smile at her, lacing your fingers through hers. “What if I try and I’d been right all along?”

“Then I’ll be here. We’ll sing Chappell Roan together and I’ll make sure to scatter the legos all over his house myself.” Her face grows proud as she says this.

You laugh. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Soori shrieks, making you both turn, laughing at her reaction. You walk over to her, taking her in your arms as you kiss her, swaying from side to side. She whines a little bit, voice muffled with the way you squeeze her cheeks with your kisses.

“You’ll grow up and have the bestest friend ever, too, Soo Soo.”

Lucy looks at the two of you, can feel the way you radiate love. The way your whole face lights up as she brings her little chubby hand to your cheek, shrieking in excitement at your words that she doesn’t even understand, but that are coming from you. In that moment, she knows she’d given you the right advice. She knows it. She sees it.

From where she stands, the future paints itself rosy shades of pink.

You feel your heart slowly mending itself, regaining its strength as the minutes pass and you bask in the sun, in Lucy’s words of comfort and her wise advice. In Soori’s little antics as the two of you play with her, letting her dip her toes in the water on the shallow end of the pool. You lather her body in sunblock and Lucy laughs at the white patches you intentionally leave on her cheeks.

“She’s the most sensitive there,” you defend, running the lotion down her arms.

“Okay, mommy.”

“This is my job, you know? Keeping the baby safe,” you mock defensiveness.

“Oh, please. Get so very real right now, ___.”

“I am,” you laugh. “Although I will admit I do happen to love keeping the baby safe.”

She takes Soori in her arms, letting her splash about with her feet as she places her between her legs. “It’s okay, Soori. I’m the fun auntie.”

You look at them, a smile on your face as you revel in Soori’s sounds of excitement and Lucy’s tender nature towards her. You love seeing everyone melt for her, give her love and attention.

“Ah, there you guys are!”

The three of you turn around, a smiling, pyjama-clad Jimin walking towards you.

“Good morning, babe!” Lucy waves at him, bringing Soori’s little arm up, making her wave, too.

“Hi,” you say, a little shyly, all things considered.

“Good morning, ladies. Good morning, princess Soori.” He kisses Lucy’s lips, then Soori’s forehead.

“How’d you sleep,” Lucy asks him.

“Good. Would’ve been better if I hadn’t woken up to an empty bed.”

“Sorry! Got hungry. Needed breakfast real bad.”

“You guys had breakfast already?”

“We’re on baby time,” you say, looking down at Soori whose arms are reaching out for Jimin.

“Come here, baby,” he says, picking her up.

“Gahhhh, my ovaries!” Lucy’s cries are dramatic as she throws her body back, falling on the grass, making you chuckle and raise your eyebrows at her.

“Anytime, babe. I keep telling ya,” is all Jimin says, making you widen your eyes in shock.

“Quit saying that, oh my God,” she whines.

“Mr Jeon Jungkook has been looking everywhere for you,” he looks at Soori, looking at you next, “and you.”

“Oh, he’s awake?”

“Yup. I heard he had a long night,” he says, a little smirk forming at his lips. Your blush is so evident it actually makes him feel bad.

“Jimin! Leave her alone,” Lucy says, coming to her feet.

He laughs, throwing his head back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m gonna…,” you point towards the house, ready to make your exit.

“You may be excused.” Jimin’s words earn him a scowl from his girlfriend, which humors him further.

When you make your way back inside the house, you see Jungkook as he enters the living room. Eyes swollen, groggy with sleep, running a hand through his hair to try to fix his bedhead. And as much as your heart aches at the sight of him still, you also can’t help but smile, still in the high Lucy’s words had left you in.

“Hey,” you say, making him look at you. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he walks towards you, hand reaching for yours, holding it for a second, squeezing before he’s letting go. The act alone is so gentle you think you could cry. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

You shrug. “Wanted to let you sleep in for a bit.”

“I should’ve let you sleep in.”

You shake your head, smiling at him. “It’s okay. We’ve been having a nice morning. Lucy joined us, we had breakfast outside. They’re by the pool now. I lathered her in sunscreen, don't worry.”

He smiles. “Thank you.”

You look around for a second, finding a door next to the hallway that leads to the kitchen. “What’s in there?”

He follows your line of vision. “A wine cellar.”

“Can we go there? Just for a minute,” you ask, and although your question makes him curious he simply nods, letting you lead the way.

The door gives way to a spiral staircase, a bit narrow and small. You hold onto the railing, a particular yet pleasant smell invading your senses as you begin to descend. It’s woodsy, a little musky and fruity. It’s a bit chilly, too.

“You’re really into wine,” you tell him, eyeing the many shelves stacked with bottles of all kind. White, red, pink, a couple of bottles of champagne.

“Yeah,” he says, looking around, too. “I guess I’ve become my father.”

You laugh. “I like that about you.”

“What? That I’ve become my father?”

“No!” you say and he laughs at your reaction. “That you know a lot about wines.”

“Hm,” he hums, grabbing you by the waist and bringing you closer. “I can teach you if you want.”

“Go on.”

“Okay, so, the temperature in this room remains at a perfect 12 degrees celsius at all times. This prevents the wine from oxidizing,” his words falter a bit as you bring your hands to his hair, fingers massaging his scalp gently as you listen intently. “The cooling system is quite particular because it keeps the humidity in the air at a steady 60%. The temperature the wine is stored in really affects the complexity and balance of the-,” he groans in satisfaction as your fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Wine.”

“Jungkook,” you look up at him, eyes dreamy and hazy.

“___,” his voice hold the same nature.

“Can you kiss me? Can,” you sigh, “can we kiss, a little, right now?”

“Yeah, baby. We can kiss a little right now.”

Your eyes lock on his, blinking slowly as you take in the way he takes you in. His eyes are shiny, and they smile before his lips do. You close your eyes, falling into him a bit before he’s catching you with his lips on yours. His hand comes up to your cheek, fingers snaking through your locks of hair as he brings you closer, sighing against your mouth. Your arms wrap around his waist, hands coming up inside his shirt, his skin warm at your touch. His teeth close around your bottom lip and you give him full access to your mouth, tongue meeting his, but it’s ever so slow. Tender, almost.

It sort of dawns on him right then and there, something he’d been missing from you, making him realize that this is the most he’s gotten of you in a while. And he doesn’t mean your body, or your touch, or a kiss. No. He means the way you fall into him, the way you look at him, the way you ask him for affection in that way that he loves, so supple and pliant, almost shy. The way you hug him to you feels different, only there’s nothing different about it, it’s just been a long time. Jungkook can’t make much of it, mind too wrapped around your lips, just like his mouth, but it doesn’t miss him, how much he’s missed you and how suddenly the realization hits.

“You want breakfast?” you part your lips from his and he pouts with his eyes still closed.

“I was in the middle of it.”

You laugh, shoving him playfully. “We can’t hide in the wine cellar forever.”

“All I need is, like,” he presses his hips against yours, “twenty minutes.”

You gasp. “Jungkook!”

“I just woke up! You took advantage of my vulnerable state.”

You roll your eyes. “I just wanted to kiss you a little.”

“Fine,” he huffs, mocking annoyance, the frown between his eyebrows falling when you put your lips on his one last time.

Perhaps you’re playing with fire. Perhaps you’re stalling, buying yourself time before you have to put your plan in action, before you have to do the real hard work, thread the words needed to do it all. The courage, too. Perhaps you’re savoring the moment just in case this is your last. You try not to think about it too much, staying in the bliss you just put yourself in. You decide you’ll tell him once you’re both back from the beach. On tuesday, when he comes home from work. You’ll have time to craft a sensible plan, find the right words, benefit from Lucy’s sound advice a little longer.

Yes. Tuesday it is.

“What are the plans for today?” you ask as you make your way up the stairs.

“Pool party, burgers and, me personally, winning every game of Badminton.”

You laugh, nodding your head slowly. “I’ll be rooting for you.”

“Aw,” he coos. “My little cheerleader.”

“I can hear your thoughts, Jeon.”

“I can see you in a mini skirt, ___.”

“Hey, I might. Just for you,” you say, looking back at him as you make your way to the kitchen.

“Ah, you spoil me.”

You turn around, pointing a finger at him. “That’s true actually.”

“That’s true actually,” he mimics your voice when he says this, making you shove him playfully and open your mouth in shock.

“Dada!” Soori’s sweet voice makes him turn around, a big smile on his face as she enters the living room in Jimin’s arms.

“There you are, my little princess!” She falls into his arms the moment he’s close enough for her to, wrapping her chubby arms around his neck. “Aw, thank you, baby. You’re so sweet. Good morning.”

“Nana,” she says, pointing at you. Lucy and Jimin smile, although you don’t notice, too hyper fixated on Soori.

“You wanna go with Nana?” Jungkook leans over towards you, handing her over before he’s pulling away playfully. She whines. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry,” he says, laughing.

“Come here,” you tell her, arms outstretched and she falls into them swiftly. She giggles some, clapping two times before she’s turning back to Jungkook, shooting grabby hands at him.

“That’s what I thought.” He takes her into his arms.

You gasp, feigning offense. “Traitor!”

“You guys are cute.” Jimin voices his thoughts out loud, unable to contain them as he takes the sweet scene in. He doesn’t voice how happy it makes him, though. He doesn’t tell you guys that seeing the three of you together like that makes him feel like he’d found the last piece of the puzzle – one he couldn’t when Ira was around and his expectations of seeing his best friend in a loving family dynamic sort of tumbled when she wouldn’t play her part.

Jungkook looks over at him, smiling as he bounces Soori in his arms, whose already looking at you like she’s about to betray him this time. He smiles, silently agreeing with his friend, almost as if he understood what he was thinking. Almost like he was feeling it, too.

“A tankini? Really, ___?”

“It’s cute! Plus, it’s appropriate for the job. Soori tends to tug at my clothes at times, I can’t wear a bikini.”

“No, no. I get that much,” Lucy says, “but a tankini?”

“It was on sale!”

“You get away with too much by being drop dead gorgeous and having the face of an angel.”

“Your compliments won’t make me want to wear my tankini any less.”

“I beg of you, don’t wear the tankini.”

“But it’s pink,” you protest, spirit a bit deflated although you know she’s kind of right.

“May I?” She points at your suitcase and you nod, plopping down on the bed a little dramatically. “Okay, I see the potential,” she says, throwing shirts and dresses around. “This!” She holds a white strapless one piece swimsuit. It’s one of your favorites – simple but cute.

“That one gives me a wedgie.”

“Something’s got to give!” She throws the bathing suit at you. “Also, don’t blame the swimsuit blame your thiccy.”

“Did you just call my ass thiccy?”

“Yeah, I got it from Jimin.”

“Ew,” you say, looking at her. “Ew.”

“Here,” she says, throwing an oversized blue button up shirt your way.

“What about pants?”

“Use that as a dress!” You’re about to protest, “and that’s final.”

You throw a firm nod her way. The shirt was long enough to pass as semi-modest so you opt out of protesting.

“So,” she says, sitting on the spot you’d left empty on the bed as you begin to change. “Have you decided about when to talk to him?”

“Yeah,” you say, pulling the bathing suit up your body. “Tuesday. Tuesday after he comes home from work. I’ll have it all perfectly rehearsed in my head.”

Lucy smiles. “That’s good. The both of you will be well rested after this weekend and you’ll be able to have a sensible talk.”

“Yeah, exactly!”

“Do try to, you know, sleep at night.”

“Shut up. I’m feeling fine! Running on caffeine and adrenaline, but fine.”

She laughs. “Ready?”

“Ready!”

“Let’s go.”

“Wait,” you say, making her turn around, confused. She lets out a nod of understanding when she sees you grabbing Mingyu’s sweater, which you’d neatly folded to give back to him.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” she reassures. “It’s gonna be a good day!”

“God willing, Lucy Lu. God willing.”

You sigh, giving yourself a little pep talk for courage before you exit the room, ready to take on the day.

The rest of the morning, as well as the beginning of the afternoon, had really catered to your inner child. Yes, it was your job to take care of Soori but the rest of the kids seemed to love you just as much and so your hands had been full. You’d swam in the pool with them, built sandcastles, played mermaids and even had a little water balloon fight that seemed to interest both the children and the adults alike. By the time noon hit and Jungkook and Taehyung were starting to roll the burgers around, you’d been convinced to sit at the kid’s table. Which wasn’t a table per say, as they’d wanted to have a little picnic and so you’d found yourself sitting on one of the many beach towels they’d retrieved from inside to make their own picnic blanket.

It’d been sweet and fun, exactly what you needed after having to walk down memory lane this morning. And in a way, it added to the lighthearted mood you’d ended up your talk with Lucy in. Kids were easy – well, kids came easy to you. You found them to be less complex than people gave them credit for. They were easily entertained as long as you were willing to step inside their little world, which at times played out to be more entertaining than your own.

By the time 3 p.m. rolled around you could start feeling the shift in atmosphere, though. They were exhausted, you included, as a sleepy Soori fuzzed about in your arms.

“I think it’s time for a nap, kiddos,” Mai says, her words followed by whines of protest from the kids.

Sun acts as the voice of reason, though, as she says, “but can we keep playing afterwards, auntie Mai?” she pleads, turning to you, “will you still play with us after nap time, ___? Pleeeeease.”

“Of course,” you tell her, free hand caressing her hair. “Plus, it’d be funner then because you guys will have more energy.”

“I am a little tired,” Dae says, his Rs running a bit, making him sound ten times more adorable.

“See? We all need a nap. You guys can go inside the play room and make it a little mid-day pj party, how about that?” Mai’s idea comes as a success, the kids jumping with excitement, some even hugging her. She turns to you, voice a whisper when she says, “I’m kinda badass at this.”

Your lips form a pout and you nod at her. “You are.”

She smiles at you before she’s officially on nap duty, gathering all the kids and bringing them inside the house. You bounce Soori in your arms, her eyes half closed already, head wobbly as she fights to stay awake. You give her a kiss on the cheek, making your way to the sunbeds where the boys are drinking beers and talking about some game they’d watched the night prior, the team scoring the winning goal only three minutes before the game was over.

“___!” Jin says the moment he sees you, making them all turn their heads in your direction. “Aren’t you god sent? I think my kids like you more than me today.”

“My kid likes her more than me at least once a week,” Taehyung says, smiling at you.

“Thank you, thank you. I do birthdays, weddings, baptisms.” You say, making them all roar out in laughter.

“You do have that midas touch when it comes to kids, ___.” Hobi tells you, leaning back and taking a sip of his beer.

“I probably enjoyed that more than they did.” You smile, feeling a bit shy under their praise.

Jungkook smiles, feigning a casual front as he takes a sip of his beer, eyes on you. Wet hair, a little ruffled from the day’s activities. A big blue shirt that’s mostly wet, too, and that bathing suit that as modest as he knows you tried to aim for, does very little to keep him away from what he knows is underneath. Your cheeks are officially crimson and your body golden. He can’t help it when his eyes travel down, the softness of your skin drawing him in. You’re nothing if not perfect and if he were to reach out, he could run his hand down your leg. Not sexually, per say. Just… touch. Touch so as to let you know what he thinks. What he feels.

He composes himself for a second before his eyes are on Soori. “She ready for a nap?”

“Yup.” You nod at him, looking at Soori under your nose. She smiles and when you follow her line of vision you see that it’s Yoongi and his silly faces that pull it out of her. “I can go put her down, if you want.”

“No, let’s go together,” he says, standing up, coming down to kiss her chubby cheek. He turns to his friends one last time, bowing before saying, “gentlemen, I’ll be back. Take this time to decide who’s ass I’m beating next in Badminton.”

As you turn around and walk towards the house, you can’t help but laugh at the remarks that follow, his friends absolutely going ham on him, all lighthearted blows he opts to ignore with a chuckle of his own.

“You’re like the meme of the girl standing in front of the burning house.”

He looks at you, frowning in confusion. “Excuse me, what?”

“Oh my God, you’ve never seen the meme of the girl standing in front of the burning house?”

“No, but that sounds horrible. Was she okay?” You laugh as you turn to him, noticing the way real concern laces his features.

“It’s funny! It’s like a cult favorite, too. I’m pretty sure it’s been around for a while. Like back in the 9GAG days. You know, B.C.” You smirk his way, not missing the way he rolls his eyes at you.

“Hey, I loved 9GAG. It was funny.”

“Of course you did.”

You step inside the house, walking in front of him and laughing when he pauses in his steps and says, “what’s wrong with 9GAG?”

“Nothing,” you tell him, smiling and dragging him upstairs by the arm. “It’s always an honor to be in the presence of people that have witnessed history.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he tells you, chuckling at your little bout of wittiness.

You make it inside of Soori’s nursery, promptly changing her diaper and getting her into a pair of dry pyjamas. She falls asleep halfway into this, making you both laugh and bask in a quiet satisfaction at realizing just how much fun she’d been having. When you put her in her crib, you take a second to just look at her, neither of you saying much, simply taking her in.

“She’s perfect, huh,” you whisper.

“She’s so perfect,” he whispers back.

Jungkook smiles at her before turning to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and kissing your cheek. It all feels… domestic. Tender, lovely and sweet. The knot in your stomach that’d been growing bigger and bigger for the past couple of weeks begins to break, slowly, releasing a small army of butterflies that seem to both excite and calm your nerves. You kiss his cheek, basking in the bliss his proximity brings.

“Let’s go back,” you tell him, “you have asses to kick.”

He smiles, lips coming to yours in a quick peck. “You should relax. Drink some wine with the girls, get some sun.”

“If I have one sip of wine and lay by the sun I’ll probably end up like her,” you say, looking down at Soori.

“Do it, baby. I got her.”

The knot breaks entirely, wings fluttering violently as they’re freed after so long.

You’re in love.

You’d taken Jungkook’s advice, laying on the sunbeds with the girls, glass of wine in hand as you snack on the fruit platter Mai and Seulgi had prepared. You’d even fallen asleep for all of fifteen minutes, which had recharged your battery more than you’d originally thought. You’d think it’d be quieter with all the kids sleeping, but the boys and their very serious game of Badminton kept the ambiance just as loud as before. At one point, you’d all taken the roles of spectators and cheerleaders, rooting for your competitor of choice. Jungkook won, yet again, and you didn’t miss the smile he shot your way, overly confident in his skills. Overly confident in his ability to pull reactions out of you. This one in particular he’d found adorable, seeing the way you flustered at his actions, hiding your face in your hands for a second before you went back to feigning nonchalance.

Now you were all scattered around. Some in the pool, some by the beach, a couple of you still in the sunbeds, soft music playing from the speakers. It was rather blissful, if you were being honest.

You’re in the middle of small, lazy talk with Mai when you suddenly remember,

“Oh, I have to get Soori’s swimming diapers. She ran out but Jungkook said he had spare ones somewhere…”

“Oh, yeah,” Mai says, “he keeps them in the pool house. Go inside the bathroom, they should be in one of the drawers.”

You smile at her, thanking her before you’re making your way to the small, white house that sat at the end of the big backyard. Making your way inside you see that it’s mostly for storage. Floaties, surfboards, spare sunbeds. You notice that the door to the bathroom is open slightly, but don’t make much of it as you walk towards it. Both you and Jungkook let out a loud scream when he appears by the door frame.

“Holy fuck.” You whisper yell, hand on your mouth.

“You scared the living shit out of me.” His own hand comes to his chest, leaning against the counter and steadying his breathing.

“Me? You scared the living shit out of me! Why are you in there with the lights off like a crazy person?”

“Why didn’t you turn the lights on when you came in like a normal person?”

You both stare at each other for a second too long before you’re breaking out in laughter.

“I came to get Soori’s diapers,” you tell him, mid-chuckle.

He raises his hand, showing you a handful of diapers. “Me too.”

“Ah,” you say, walking closer to him. “Great minds think alike.”

“Mhm,” he leans against the counter once again as you stand in front of him. “My heart’s beating so fast, dude.”

You laugh. “You’re so dramatic, dude.”

“Hey, you can’t dude me.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Fine. You’re so dramatic, Jungkookie.”

“I’m not! Look,” he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his bare chest and placing it over his heart. He’s still wet from the pool, skin warm from the sun. His heart is beating a little irregularly, you must admit.

“I’m sorry,” you say, adding to the drama of it all as your voice grows soft. “I’ll put a bell around my neck the next time so I don’t startle you.”

“Ha ha, funny.”

“Oh, I am.”

You can’t explain it, but the air shifts around you. Jungkook can’t explain it either, but he welcomes it.

“Yeah?”

You smile, cheeks growing red for whatever reason. Or perhaps for all the right reasons. He can dismantle you with a few words and that’s one your favorites by far.

“Yeah,” you breathe, eyes growing heavy as his own look into yours. In a matter of seconds they’re landing on your lips. And then he’s kissing you.

The kiss holds the same nature this morning’s had, perhaps a little less playful. A little more intentional. Like you’re both finding a means to an end just so you can bask in the journey of getting there. When you sigh into his lips, Jungkook brings you closer, hand on your cheek as he parts your lips with his tongue. The kiss grows heady, your fingers carding through his wet locks and his hands land on your waist, squeezing some before he’s turning you around until you’re leaning on the counter. The swiftness with which he handles your body has a moan escaping your lips and he feels the way you smile against his mouth. He pushes his hips into yours, drunk on you already, determined to pull those little sounds out of you.

“Wait,” you say, parting your lips from his, laughing a little when you see his flustered state, lips red and swollen in his signature pout. “What if someone walks in?” He smiles, eyes not leaving yours as he leans to the side and closes the door, locking it in a beat. He’s about to kiss you again but you interrupt him. “Soori?”

“Baby monitor in my back pocket.” He kisses you. “We’ve got like, twenty minutes give or take.”

You laugh, kissing him back, arms wrapping around his neck as you breathe into the kiss in giddy anticipation. “Think you can make me cum in twenty minutes give or take?”

He pulls away, but it’s only an inch. He scowls, a smile on his lips that takes your breath away. “Is that a challenge?”

The air shifts yet again, air growing dense this time. “Yeah,” is all you can muster.

“What do I get?”

You hum, pretending you’re deep in thought. “Me?”

“I’ll do it in ten.”

You laugh, sweet music to his ears and his smile meets yours in a kiss. It’s deeper this time, grows sloppy soon enough and Jungkook wastes no time as his hand cups your tits over your bathing suit, grunting a bit at the fabric getting in the way before he’s pulling it down in one swift movement. He brings his mouth to your nipple, expert little sucks that have you throwing your head back as your fingers pull at his hair. You lean back, head hitting the mirror as your breathing grows heavier. When you come back up, you push him back with a hand to his chest as you come to stand in front of him. You erase the frown from his face the moment he sees the way you roll the white fabric of your swimsuit down your legs, leaning back against the counter.

“Better than the mini skirt,” he says, towering over you as he pushes his hands against the counter.

You bite your lip, smiling at him with dark eyes before you’re turning around, your hands falling in front of you, tits pressing together as you push your ass back against him. You look at his reflection on the mirror, giggle a bit when you catch him staring, lust filled eyes scanning over your body.

“Like what you see?” your voice is teasing, cocky even, and it comes to no surprise when Jungkook’s firm hand comes to your waist, holding you in place before he delivers a hard smack to your ass. The pain translates to pleasure in a brief yet delicious second, eyes closing as you moan and bring your body forward. His hand lingers for a while, softer this time as he caresses the warm skin before his fingers travel south, parting your slit and drawing lazy circles against your clit.

“You’re so wet, baby.”

“Fuck, I am,” you pant, head lolling forward as you breathe into his touch.

“You’re a little brat today,” he says, matter of factly, staring at your reflection in the mirror as his fingers expertly pull little moans from your lips.

You look up at him, fucked out eyes pleading, “need you inside me.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yes,” your words get caught up in a whiny moan when he pushes two fingers inside of you. “Please.”

“That’s more like it. So pretty when you ask nicely.”

His eyes don't leave yours and you see the way he pushes his swim shorts down slightly, wrapping a hand around his cock before he’s lining himself against your entrance. He teases your hole with the head, smirking at the way you squirm in his hold at the mere action. He wishes he could tease you further, but Jungkook’s time is limited and he knows that much. He pushes his cock inside of you, gasping when he bottoms out. His hips pick up the pace right away, wasting no time as he starts fucking you the way he does when all he wants is to make you cum, perfectly angled so he hits all the right places repeatedly.

“Fuck, that feels so good, baby,” you mumble, words breaking at the intensity of his thrusts. You close your eyes, try to steady your breathing out but he has other plans as his hand wraps around your neck, pulling you up some as his fingers close around your throat.

“Keep your eyes open.”

He looks at you through the reflection in the mirror, takes you in as he fucks you, a low groan escaping his lips when he feels you clench around him. His face contorts in pleasure, a grin pulling at his lips when he realizes you’re already close. The hand that wraps around your throat tightens, applying more pressure at the flesh, making you feel a bit lightheaded in the most perfect way, aiding to the way your senses zero in on him and the way he makes you feel. You know you’re close the moment your tummy tenses, his cock massaging your g-spot with each push and pull of his hips.

“Oh my God,” you breathe out, hand clasping around his own as you make him press harder. “Don’t stop.”

He moans at your actions, at the way you beg for more with your body when your words fail. He keeps that exact pace up, thumb and middle finger pressing into your throat a bit deeper, just the right amount to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your body falling back into him, head on his shoulder as you cum around his cock with a silent moan. The sight before him feels straight out of the craziest of his wet dreams and it makes his cock throb inside of you as your walls milk him through your orgasm.

Your body shakes a bit as you fall on top of the counter, your hand coming to his hip to get him to stop moving for a second as you cringe a bit in overstimulation.

“Victory is sweet,” he says, bringing his hand to your back, fingers running down your spine in a soothing manner.

You smile at him. “I was confident all along. Just needed an excuse to get you to fuck me.”

“Aw, baby. All you had to do was ask.”

He pulls your body up, hands on your hips as he turns you around and sits you back on the counter. He lets out a low grunt when he pushes his cock back inside you, your pussy pulling him in right away and he knows he won’t last long.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

You giggle, brains completely fucked out before you say, “we’re having a quickie in the bathroom.”

Jungkook scoffs, hands closing around your tits, hips thrusting into you slower, letting himself enjoy it. His head falls, eyes fixed on the way his cock pushes inside of you, moaning at the sight alone. His gaze travels up, taking you in. It’s so hot inside the bathroom he can feel the way his body sticks to yours every time he fucks into you. A single drop of sweat falls from your chest, traveling between your tits before it lands on your navel. His eyes close in a mix of bliss, disbelief and pleasure.

“You’re so sexy, baby. Shit, I’m so close.”

“Cum for me, Kook. Need it so bad.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you kiss him, lips locked in his as he breathes out into the kiss, little whines leaving him as he lets himself fall into the feeling completely. You become conscious of him, let yourself enjoy him in this state, when he’s so close to letting go he grows a little desperate, hands all over yours, needy sounds passing his lips, hips lazily moving into you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he says against your lips, pulling away so he can bury his head down the crook of your neck. He gets carried away – too carried away. His cock throbs inside of you, hips slowing down their pace as his body tenses for a second. He’s about to let himself relax, let himself cum, and it’s then that he realizes he’s still inside of you. “Fuck.” he looks down, pulling out and wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping once before he’s cumming on your leg. You bring a hand to your mouth when you notice, trying to muffle your laughter. “Shit, that was close.”

“Yeah,” you say, bringing his face to yours. “Got carried away?”

“Yeah. Completely let go of the principles of conception for a good minute.”

You laugh. “No conception would’ve taken place. It would’ve been a creampie at the max.”

“Don’t say the word creampie, my dick just jumped and we can’t go again.”

“You’re such a boy,” you say, bringing your lips to his.

“I’m a man,” he protests, words muffled by your kiss.

“Mm, yeah you are. You’re also a daddy so let’s get those diapers inside.”

“Don’t say the D-word, my dick just jumped for real and we really can’t go again.”

“Oh my God. You’re so filthy minded!”

You push him off of you playfully, pulling his shorts up before you’re doing the same with your previously discarded swimsuit, jumping a bit as you roll it past your ass. Jungkook smirks at your struggle.

“Mmmm,” he hums. “Do that again.”

“Have I ever told you you’re an ass man?”

“I’m a you man, baby.”

“Shut up.”

“Shut me up.”

“Oh my God!”

You both laugh at your flustered state that only seems to edge him on further, but it’s short lived. Your hands land on the door knob of the pool house at the same time, making you giggle before your smiles are falling as you realize that you’re about to do the walk of shame and have no idea how to get out of it.

“Shit,” you say.

“Shit, indeed,” he says back.

To your fortune, the walk of shame isn’t that bad. It isn’t bad at all, actually. The kids had woken up from their naps and had everyone’s attention so nobody noticed your absence much. To your misfortune (and Jungkook’s) it doesn’t take you long to realize that Mingyu keeps Dae entertained as they play around with water guns.

Jungkook lets out a big sigh that you don’t miss before he’s clearing his throat and saying, “hey, bro. You made it.”

“Hey,” he says, a little too giddy for his friend’s liking. “Yeah, sorry I’m late. Went on a hike this morning, could barely move afterwards.” He waves at you, a smile on his face.

“Gotta work on that stamina,” Jungkook says, mostly playfully with a little hint of something else.

“You should come with me the next time, we can work on it together,” he bites back, no hint of anything but playfulness in his words.

His eyes land back on yours and you give him a tight lipped smile, taking the diapers from Jungkook’s hands before you’re letting him know that you’re gonna go get Soori. He smiles, feels the need to pull you closer, give you a kiss in front of everyone, take your hand in his. Anything. But he doesn’t. He just nods and then you’re on your way. He doesn’t miss the way his friend’s eyes scan over your body, a stupid smile plastered all over his face that makes his blood boil a little.

You don’t really notice it, though, making your way inside the house and going up the stairs to make it to Soori’s room. She’s awake, jumping a little when she sees you walk inside the room.

“Hi, baby,” you coo. “Did you have a good nap? Are you ready to keep having fun?”

“Nana,” she whines, making grabby hands at you.

“Come here.” You get her out of the crib, taking her to her changing table before you’re getting her swimming diapers on and putting her in a clean swimsuit with cute daisies printed all over it. “You’re so cute.” You kiss her cheeks repeatedly until she gets ticklish, pushing you away as she cackles.

You sit her against your hip before you exit her nursery, walking the long hallways and going down the stairs as you sing her a little song she babbles along to. It’s then that you brave yourself for what you’re about to do, walking inside the kitchen, quickly finding Mingyu’s sweater that you’d left on top of the breakfast table this morning. It’ll be quick and harmless. You’ll just hand it over to him, thank him and go about your business.

It’s a good plan. A great plan even. It’s also a plan that crashes down before it can even take off as you see him make his way inside the kitchen.

“And so we meet again.” He smiles when he sees you, looking down at Soori and smiling even wider.

“Hey,” you say, a bit nervously.

“Came to get some beers, the boys are out.” He walks closer to you, hand coming down to rest on top of Soori’s head as he caresses her hair softly. “Hi Soo Soo.” She smiles, falling into his arms as quickly as he reaches them out towards her. It’s in that moment that you realize that he’s closer to Jungkook than you’d originally thought. He has to be if Soori’s this comfortable around him.

“Thank you,” you say, passing his sweater over to him.

“No worries. Sure you don’t wanna keep it? It’s gonna be just as chilly tonight.”

“No, that’s okay.”

“You kinda disappeared last night,” he says, bouncing Soori on his hip, looking down at her so as to not have to look at you when he says this.

“Yeah, I was really tired, couldn’t get to bed soon enough.”

“It was nice getting to talk to you. I was looking forward to today… just so we could do it again.” He laughs a little, shaking his head at his words. He doesn’t mind your silence, though. “I was thinking… maybe we could grab a coffee when we’re back in the city?”

“Coffee,” you say, and he can’t tell if it’s a question or a statement.

“Or dinner! Or a movie, or something. Just… hang out. Get to know each other.”

“I’m sorry… I- I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

He smiles. “Yeah, perhaps me asking you this right now isn’t the smartest move, huh?” He looks down at Soori. You’re silent yet again. “Perhaps I’ll leave it up to fate.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps we’ll bump into each other in some random place like the grocery store or in the middle of a really busy street and… I’ll ask you again. And perhaps you’ll say yes.”

You feel bad. You feel bad because as dense as you might be when it comes to receiving attention, you don’t fail to see that he likes you. Genuinely, sincerely likes you. Or at least likes the idea of you enough to want to pursue it further and get to know you.

“Or hey,” he says, making you look into his eyes again. “Maybe I’ll make my own fate.”

“Sorry what,” Jungkook’s head turns so fast he’s sure he’s given himself whiplash, grateful to not have taken the sip of beer he’d planned on the moment he started talking because he’s sure he would’ve spat it out.

Mingyu’s idea of making his own fate was… something, to say the least. And so there he was, next to Jungkook as they both started the fire for the grill, asking him to be his wingman.

“I mean, perhaps it was a bit wrong of me to ask her out while she’s on, you know,” he says, looking at Jungkook and pointing at him with the tongs, “the clock and whatnot. But fuck I don’t know. She’s just so-” he sees the way Jungkook looks at him in shock and it makes him chuckle. “Am I making any sense right now?”

“No.”

“Yesterday- we hit it off. But you know, it was casual. We barely got to know each other in a,” he pauses for a second, and every pause makes Jungkook’s blood boil further. “Deeper level. So I tried to not look into it that much. But then I got home and got in bed and all I could think about was her. Like, fuck, I felt eighteen again. She’s so beautiful. She’s so fucking sweet. And so I knew it couldn’t end there. So I just asked her out.”

“When?”

“In the kitchen, when I went to get the beers. She was giving me my sweater back and I thought to myself, might as well.”

“And what did she say,” Jungkook asks.

“She said no. She said she doesn’t think it’s gonna work.” Jungkook lets out a breath he very much knew he was holding. “But I blame myself for that. I mean, I get why she wouldn’t agree to it right now. She’s technically on the clock, like I said, and I get why it could be perceived as inappropriate.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says, eyes a little lost, quite literally begging for the earth to swallow him.

“But that’s where you come into the picture.”

“How exactly do I come into the picture,” he says, but what he really thinks is, I already am in the picture, dumbass. She’s mine. He also realizes this would be an extremely childish thing of him to say.

“Well, you know, we’ve been friends for so long. You can put in a good word for me, sort of encourage her to-”

“You want me to encourage my nanny into going on a date with my friend?” His words have edge to it but Jungkook doesn’t care anymore, not that Mingyu seems to notice, too caught up in the visions of a future with you he’s formed inside his head.

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen, I get it,” Jungkook scoffs. “But, you know, maybe you could do it in a lighthearted manner. Like, yeah he’s a great guy! You totally deserve to be happy! You know, kinda like… a brotherly figure. Yeah! That’s it!”

“You’re fucking insane.” Now he really doesn’t care that his words have bite to them. And Mingyu’s head is still way up in the clouds for him to notice they do.

He chuckles. “Maybe I am. But she’s…,” his eyes find you in the crowd, “different. She’s special you know?”

Yes, I know, is what Jungkook wants to say. But instead he says nothing.

Mingyu looks back at him. “But hey, I’ll find a way. I’m telling you, man. This was written in the stars. Luck is on my side. Then you can play cupid,” he says, patting his back.

Jungkook laughs faintly. Not because anything’s funny, but because he’s glad the conversation is over.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Sure, I’ll get this started,” Mingyu says, motioning to the grill.

Jungkook tries to stop it, but he can’t help it. He feels the way his heart constricts inside his chest. He’s angry, furious even, but he can’t do anything to release said anger. He had to sit through that conversation and pretend like his friend’s words were only fucked up because he was trying to get with his nanny, not because he was trying to get with his-

Girlfriend.

Jungkook wants to call you his girlfriend but he knows he can’t. He knows he has no right to call you that because you aren’t his girlfriend. Because Taehyung was right – you guys weren’t exclusive. You didn’t owe him anything. Not a title he hadn’t asked for. Nor loyalty. Nothing. If you wanted to, you could very well accept Mingyu’s proposal. He was there, at your disposal, and perhaps even in ways Jungkook hadn’t been. He’d been straightforward with you. Bold, even. Jungkook almost had to admire it. He’d gone up to you and simply… asked you out. Showed interest, shot his shot. He liked you. He liked you and Jungkook knew he liked you in a way that you deserved. The realization sinks into him, a punch that knocks the air out of him as he makes his way through the garden and out into the beach.

He’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t notice you noticing him. But you do. You notice the way he talks to Mingyu, see the way his eyes grow darker with each passing second. You see the way he pushes the anger that threatens to leave him away. See the way he makes his way through the garden, steps a bit lost, like he doesn’t know where he’s going. You see the way his face falls with every step until they land in what you can only describe as sadness. The moment he’s out of sight, you excuse yourself from the conversation you’d halfheartedly been in, and go after him.

He faces the ocean, takes in the sun as it begins to set, the air growing colder around him, the breeze making the waves choppier before they break at his feet. His mind is blank now and he’s almost grateful, his thoughts unable to attack him any further. All he can focus on is the sky turning colors and the ache that grows inside his chest.

“Jungkook.”

Your voice is a whisper that gets caught up in the wind and for a second you think he doesn’t hear you, but then he’s turning his head around, eyes on yours as you make your way to him. The sand feels heavy on your feet, almost like it wants to stop you. But once you’re face to face with him he smiles. He smiles and you almost want to buy it but you know it’s not fully there. Nonetheless, you smile back. Your lips pulling up with the same nature as his.

“Hi,” he says, looking at you for what the eternity of a second can hold before his gaze is back to the blue of the sea and the pink of the sky.

“What happened?” You don’t have to pretend like you don’t know something did. You see the way he smiles again, only this time it holds something more. Bitterness, perhaps.

He doesn’t look at you when he says, “Mingyu told me.”

“Told you what?”

“About him asking you out… he really likes you, you know?”

“Jungkook, I’m sorry. I- I said no. I told him-”

“I know,” he says, and it’s soft, holds no anger or resentment. “I guess that I’m just realizing that if you hadn’t said no… I couldn’t really hold it against you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your voice grows faint, a silent plea. You want him to look at you.

“I can’t pretend like you owe me anything. And that’s on me, I guess. No- I know. I know it’s on me. And so I guess it’s catching up to me.”

You scoff, turning your face away from his, your own gaze fixated on the sea. The sky paints itself orange. You wrap your arms around your body, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You still don’t get it, do you?”

He’s silent, and for once you welcome it. You don’t think the words you say next could leave you if he weren’t. And although brave, your voice is soft when you say,

“Jungkook, I love you.” You feel it when his eyes are on you. “I love you,” you shrug, a faint laugh leaving your lips. “I love you in the heat of the moment and I love you in the warmth of it. I love you when it’s cold. I love you when it’s freezing, even. I love you. And you don’t get it still. And perhaps I should try and find better words in hopes that you’d understand but I’m afraid that all I have is…,”

You pause, look into his eyes.

“I love you.”

★taglist★

@roro-in-utopia @yiyi4657 @littlrmills14-blog @namjooningelsewhere@drownforryou @iwanttohitmyself @finelinememories @yukiehyukie@shatzkrinslinzki @bts-fic-recs-mess @kokoandkookie @subtlepjiminie@hobipost @kookiesbreaky @di0rgguk @bloopkook @babyrosieareroses@kookiecrumb @casspirit0705 @eclectictacozinewobbler @tickledpink55@rjsmochii @dimcorner @miniiimee @vintageroses10 @amyniu @tessxblxckthorn@emotionaltrashcansblog @fangirl125reader @laurynne5 @thickgrinch@dianaxnyc @ruinsofangels @berryonasummerevening @taeslarityy@hisunshiine @preciouschiminie @ruclements @galaxyflab @jalexad@missseoulite @bangtannoonalvg @kootonins @lustremyg @kissme-ornot@92thk @everythingaboutfangirling @cakecobain @callmejimmeo @simp4tae@landl7xoxo @jungjoonie @sanfransolomitatm @khadeeeeej @mar-lo-pap @nanjeonlangakook @parkinglot-nights @purplebeebs

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ibetonlosinghuskies · 5 months ago

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hiiiiii! Some one shot requests for Pazzi! I love seeing Paige hurt and azzi comforting so anything like Paige being sick and Azzi there for her, Paige getting hurt in practice and Azzi worried, Paige getting benched and Azzi supporting her❤️

hi hi, thank you for all the reqs!! i swear sometimes you guys live in my brain, one of the other two will be present in the upcoming chapters, but here’s this for now 🤭

fever dreams (bonus chp)

summary: paige is sick so azzi takes a surprise visit to uconn to comfort her.

cw: just fluff

a/n: sry this is so short, i wrote this at the beach so it’s not really formatted or spell checked sry!!

paige's pov:

my head spins as i open my eyes, immediately regretting my decision. an ache throbs in my head, my throat feels like sandpaper, and every muscle in my body feels tender.

i hadn't been feeling good after practice yesterday, but i had attributed it to the usual pains of conditioning. i knew it was gonna take some getting used to, but this was a different kind of pain.

i swept my sheets over my legs, trying to take my first step. my foot hits the ground, and i become aware of how warm my skin is. a chill runs through my skin, my bones ache at the weight of my body.

i can't ignore it anymore, i'm definitely sick.

a sharp dread works its way through my stomach, relentless and unforgiving. i feel nauseous at the thought of telling coach i had to miss practice already.

it's only been a few weeks into summer workouts with the team, and i'm already gonna get benched. coach is going to kill me. i squint at my phone, the brightness sending a searing pain through my head.

a few missed calls from mom, a couple of insta dms, a handful of texts from my teammates. but my heart sinks when i see no messages from azzi.

my first instinct is to call her, to let her voice soothe my sickness through the phone. just the thought of her soft cadence coats my mind like cough syrup down my throat.

god, i wish she was here.

it's only really been a few weeks since i left minnesota but i couldn't help but feel like we were drifting day by day. she'd called me the first few nights, but things felt different. we were still us, just muffled through the static of my phone.

i know i should've told her i'm sick, but part of me hopes she'll reach out first. i shoot a quick text to geno then close my eyes, hoping to drift away from the pain.

i fall asleep quickly, heavy with sickness. my sleep is light, burdened by the fever and chill of my body. my fever makes me kick the sheets off, just to immediately put them back on after my skin chills.

a soft knock pulls me from my feverish haze, and i blink slowly. all the light in my room has dimmed as the sun cast it's final warmths from outside. i drag myself to the door, every step a conscious effort.

when i open it, i squint in disbelief. azzi stands there, or at least i think she does. worry flickers through her expression as she scans my body. my head feels fuzzy, the edges around her features softened, blurred.

am i dreaming? this can't be real.

"azzi?" i whisper, my voice barely audible. "what-" my throat aches, voice cracking at the first syllable.

even in my dreams, i'm still nervous around her.

i reach out, half-expecting my hand to pass right through her. my fever must be worse than i thought, conjuring up the one person i've been longing to see.

please be real. please be mine for a day.

my hand reaches her forearm, solid and warm. a rush of gratitude wades over me, and for a moment, the pain ceases.

she's here. she's actually here.

"oh honey," she calls out empathetically, "is it that bad?" she pulls me in for a hug, squeezing at my waist. the cool touch of her fingers against my back is soothing, like she carried acetaphetamine under her fingertips.

i didn't realize how much i needed this until now.

i lean into her, resting my cheek on her shoulder. i turn my head, burrowing myself into her neck. i take a deep breath, inhaling her scent. a sweet familiar vanilla and something else uniquely her. my voice muffled by her skin as i speak, "are you real?"

i feel her laugh at this, "yeah, paige. i'm really here," she says, her voice soft but clear. "your mom called me. she said you were sick and all alone."

my heart races at the thought of my wellbeing being her catalyst to come all this way. i imagine her packing a bag, careful and deliberate. reading on the plane, asking my mom for directions, knocking at my door.

she came here for me. she dropped everything and came to see me.

"let's get you back to bed," azzi says softly, wrapping an arm around my waist to hold the weight of my body. she sets me down on my bed, her eyes carefully scanning my movements as i tuck myself in. i pull the sheets over my chin, looking up at her.

she's so pretty, so kind.

she reaches the back of her hand to my forehead, pressing softly for a moment. "you're burning up," she says empathetically. "i'll be right back okay?"

i almost want to reach out and pull her close, tell her she’s the only thing i need. but i let her go, she grabs something from her bag and walks towards the bathroom.

when she returns she places a cool cloth on my head, holding my cheek in her hand. the cloth is nice but it’s her touch that’s really soothing. her careful, loving hands both soothes and brings a new ache to my body.

i worry i’ll never be cured from the ache of needing her.

“thanks az,” i whisper, giving her a soft smile. “mhm,” she hums, “do you want some tea? it should help your throat.”

“oh you don’t have to-” i start, but she’s already heading for the sink.

“do you want lemon or no?” she calls out from the kitchen. i’m impressed, she really thought of everything.

“sure,” i croak out, trying not to strain my voice. in the few short minutes she’s gone, i feel my eyelids grow heavy. i lay my head down, slowly drifting back to sleep.

azzi’s pov:

i pour the hot water into the cup, letting the tea seep. i wrap my hands around it, taking in its warmth.

i walk out towards her, talking to myself, “i brought green tea too but it has caffeine and i figured you should sl-”

she’s already passed out, her blonde hair thrown lazily over her shoulders and face. i watch her chest rise and fall, her eyelashes flutter slightly. even in the dim light of her dorm, she glows.

she’s so beautiful.

i’m almost grateful she’s so deep in sleep she doesn’t catch me staring. i set the mug on the nightstand quietly, climbing into bed with her.

despite my best efforts, she feels the bed shift and takes a few sleepy blinks. once i lay down, she puts her head on my shoulder curling into my body.

it’s a rare moment of stillness for paige, who’s usually so full of life and energy. a wave of tenderness washes over me.

i want more of this, of us.

the depth of my feelings for her scares me, but in moments like this, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

her breathing has evened out now, a gentle rhythm. it brings me peace to know i might have brought her some sort of comfort.

the weight of her head on my shoulder sends a wave of sleepiness through me. i wrap my free hand around her back, stroking my thumb across her back. holding her tight, i let myself sleep.

…

when i wake a few hours later, i realize she’s interlocked our hands. her messy hair scatters across my chest.

we’re so close i’m afraid my breathing might wake her. i pull my other hand to feel the cloth on her head. i should change it, it’s already grown warm. plus she probably needs to take some medicine before she sleeps for the rest of the night.

i run my hand down her back, trying to wake her. “paige,” i brush some of her hair out of her face. she’s a deep sleeper, she probably can’t even hear me.

i shake her shoulder a little rougher now, “okay sleepy, time for some medicine.” she blinks slowly, looking up at me, “hm?”

“i bought allergy meds and cough syrup,” i say, starting to sit up.

i reach for my bag pulling out both. i start with the allergy meds, putting two pills in the palms of my hands.

“here,” i hand them to her, reaching for her tea.

she examines the pills in her hands, rolling them around. “these look big,” she complains, mumbling.

"paige, you cannot be almost twenty years old and not know how to swallow a pill,” i tease.

"i can swallow a pill. it’s just that these are bigger than the normal ones,” she protests.

"above average," i put the pill in her hand. "now, swallow."

"that's what she said,” she coughs, laughing.

i feel a smile flicker across my lips. "not to you," i quip, poking her side.

her jaw drops for a moment before closing to pout her lips. "be nice to me, i'm sick," she mumbles.

god, she’s cute.

hearing the rasp in her voice softens my expression “i know, honey. i’m sorry, i just want you to feel better.”

she nods, finally taking the tea from my hands. she winces as she swallows. i put my hand on her back, stroking softly.

“good job,” my hand lingers for a moment too long before i pull it away.

“do you wanna watch a movie? i have love and basketball downloaded on my laptop,” i ask, reaching for my laptop.

"how you gonna come over to take care of me then play your favorite movie?" she croaks, her voice still raspy.

"see you’re already feeling good enough to argue with me," i smile, putting on the movie anyways.

like always, we fall into a comfortable silence. i hold her close, tracing the lines on her palms with my fingertips.

it isn’t long until i feel her start to fall asleep again. she closes her eyes, “please stay,” she mumbles into my shoulder.

of course, i’ll stay. i’d stay here forever if i could.

“i’ll be here when you wake up, okay?” i take her face in my palms, kissing her forehead. “get some rest.”

“promise?” she asks, her soft blue eyes stirring up emotion deep inside me.

i wanna kiss her again. like really kiss her.

“i promise,” i whisper back, running my hand through her hair.

as i watch her drift back to sleep, i come to a realization. i came all this way to take care of her, but being here, holding her in my arms, feeling needed- it’s healing something in me too.

maybe she’s all i need.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #uconn #uconn wbb #pazzi fic #pazzi fics #i bet on losing huskies

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eepwtf · 11 days ago

Text

MY HEAVENLY ANGEL

summary: stiles stilinski has always been the kind of guy whose curiosity gets the better of him. but when his guardian angel starts appearing to him in all their ethereal glory, curiosity turns into something darker, something dirtier. and despite their pure intentions, even angels aren't immune to the sinful pull of human desire. after all, isn't God always watching? (it’s a little rushed, the idea just came to me when i was writing spn!stiles’ backstory sigh…)

warnings; eating out an angel, stiles being a freak, voyeurism /exhibitionism (because God is always watching) don’t know what else to say, it’s just smut.

it started innocently enough, as most catastrophes do.

stiles was lying in bed, staring at his popcorn ceiling and pondering the sheer mediocrity of his life. his latest brush with the supernatural had left him rattled but alive, and he'd muttered a quick "thanks" to whatever celestial being was responsible for his continued survival. he didn't expect a response.

and yet, there you were.

at first, he thought he'd fallen asleep and was dreaming. you stood at the foot of his bed, a faint glow surrounding you, your eyes wide and otherworldly, your hands clasped in front of you as though you were the one nervous to be seen.

"who—what are you?" he stammered, sitting up and clutching his blanket like a shield.

you tilted your head, the gesture slow and deliberate, almost… birdlike. "’m your guardian angel," you said softly, your voice carrying a melody no human throat could produce. "i’ve been watching over you."

that’s was how it began. you’d appear at the oddest times—when he was studying, brushing his teeth, driving. always with that serene, unreadable expression. stiles couldn’t help but notice the way your gaze lingered on him, curious yet unassuming, as though trying to decipher what made him tick.

but then the watching turned into something else.

stiles wasn’t sure when exactly his thoughts started getting... inappropriate. maybe it was the time you perched on his desk while he worked on a paper, leaning so close that he could feel the warmth radiating from your body—if angels even had bodies, which wasn’t something he should be thinking about, what the hell was wrong with him. or maybe it was the time you appeared in his room soaking wet, your clothes clinging to you as water dripped onto the carpet. you’d claimed you’d been “cleansing yourself” in the rain, but the look on your face made it seem like you knew exactly what you were doing.

and god, the way you said things sometimes—your words always came out too calm, too deliberate, with a slight edge that made his skin prickle. like you were aware of your own power, of what you could do to him if you wanted. stiles couldn’t tell if you were mocking him or just... existing in a way that wrecked his sanity.

still, he tried to brush it off. he tried. you were an angel. angels weren’t supposed to be… hot? no, no, not hot, that was wrong—ethereal. otherworldly. totally not something a human should look at and ache.

but stiles was stiles, and of course his brain couldn’t leave well enough alone.

there was that time you’d bent over to inspect something on his desk, and he’d immediately clamped a hand over his eyes, muttering something about boundaries. you just blinked at him, completely unfazed. “are you unwell?” you asked, your voice soft, like you genuinely cared.

and maybe that was the worst part—the caring. You didn’t just watch him; you noticed things. the twitch in his hands when he was anxious. the way his breathing hitched when he lied. the tightness in his voice when he tried to joke away the heaviness in his chest. you noticed all of it, and instead of judging him, you… stayed.

which made everything worse.

he couldn’t stop thinking about you. couldn’t stop thinking about your hands, delicate yet strong, and the way they’d brushed against his once when you handed him a notebook he’d dropped. couldn’t stop thinking about your voice, low and lilting, curling around his name like a prayer. couldn’t stop thinking about your eyes, how they seemed to see through him, stripping him bare until he didn’t know where stiles ended and you began.

either way, stiles knew he was going straight to hell for the things he thought about when you were around.

"you’re supposed to be... holy," he said one night, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but on the curve of your lips or the soft swell of your chest. "aren’t you?"

you tilted your head, genuinely confused. "of course i am. but i don't understand why that bothers you so much."

"’s not that it bothers me, it’s just—" he gestured vaguely at your form. "do angels normally look like that?”

your brows furrowed. "like what?"

"like they walked off a Calvin Klein runway!" he blurted, immediately regretting it. "i mean, come on, the hair, the glow, the whole—" his hands flailed as he tried to encompass your entire existence in one gesture.

you smiled, a faint flush spreading across your cheeks. "i take on a form you’d find pleasing. does this one... please you?"

stiles choked. "uh, yeah, sure, it’s great—very pleasing."

the knowing look in your eyes made his skin prickle.

it came to a head one night when he woke to find you standing by his window, bathed in moonlight. you weren’t glowing this time, but there was something even more divine about the way the light kissed your skin, illuminating every curve, every line.

"do you ever sleep?" he asked groggily, his voice rough from sleep.

"angels don’t need rest," you replied without turning, your tone calm, matter-of-fact, like you weren’t haunting his room in the middle of the night, looking like that.

"must be nice," he muttered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. his heart was already racing, though he didn’t want to think about why.

you turned to face him then, and for once, your expression wasn’t unreadable. there was something soft about it, something… human. it threw him off balance. "you were dreaming about me again."

stiles froze, his blood going ice-cold and boiling hot all at once. "uh, what?"

"your dreams," you said, stepping closer. "they're always... vivid."

"okay, first of all, rude," he said, his voice cracking. "second of all, you watch me sleep? isn’t that, like, against angel code or something?"

you frowned, genuinely perplexed, your head tilting like you genuinely didn’t understand the problem. "i’m your guardian. watching over you is my duty."

"yeah, well, maybe watch a little less when i’m unconscious, okay?"

but you didn’t step back. if anything, you moved closer, your gaze dropping to his lips, then lower.

"do you want me to leave?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

he swallowed hard, his pulse pounding in his ears. he should’ve said yes. he should’ve. but instead, the word came out like a confession:

"no."

and that was it.

stiles wasn’t sure who made the first move. one moment you were standing by his bed, and the next you were straddling his lap, your hands tangled in his hair, your lips hot and insistent against his.

it was surreal, the way you melted into him, the way your body—so soft, so warm, so human—pressed against his like you’d been made to fit there. every nerve in his body was on fire, and yet he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t get enough of you.

“is this… allowed?” he gasped when you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, his hands trembling against your hips. his voice was rough, desperate.

“don’t know,” you admitted, your breath hitching as his fingers tightened, grounding themselves in your skin. “but it feels… right.”

“God’s probably watching,” he said, a crooked grin tugging at his lips, though there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

"let him," you whispered, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "He created me, didn’t He? He made me like this—for you."

the weight of your words sent a shiver down his spine.

"jesus christ," he muttered, his grip tightening on you.

"wrong deity," you teased, your smile wicked.

and then there was no room for talking.

the next kiss was hungrier, more desperate, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as if the space between you was unbearable. stiles’ hands roamed your body with a reverence that made your skin burn under his touch. his fingers trailed the curve of your waist, lingering at the small of your back before gliding down to your thighs, gripping them with a possessiveness that sent shivers up your spine.

"you feel... warm," he murmured against your lips, his voice husky, thick with wonder. his fingers traced the curve of your waist, lingering at the small of your back before sliding lower, squeezing like he needed to anchor himself.

"so do you," you whispered, your breath hitching as his lips trailed along your jaw, then down your neck. your fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, deeper, until his scent, his heat, his everything surrounded you.

stiles’ hands trembled as he tugged at your clothes—not out of hesitation, but from sheer need. with every layer he peeled away, his breath hitched, his eyes growing darker, hungrier, devouring the sight of you. his lips followed the path of his hands, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, the hollow of your throat, the curve of your shoulder.

"god, you’re beautiful," he breathed, his voice almost reverent, but there was something feral behind his gaze, something that made your chest tighten and your thighs press together instinctively.

"don’t use His name like that," you teased softly, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips even as his words sent a shiver down your spine.

"right, sorry," he said, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips was anything but apologetic. his hands slid down your sides, his thumbs grazing the soft dip of your hips before settling on your thighs, his fingers flexing possessively. "but seriously… you're unreal."

the last of your clothes fell away, leaving you bare under the soft glow of moonlight. stiles leaned back for a moment, his eyes roaming your body with an intensity that made you feel both exposed and cherished.

"are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less urgent.

"yes," you whispered, your fingers curling against his shoulders, nails pressing into the soft cotton of his shirt as your legs shifted restlessly beneath him. "want this. want you."

that was all he needed to hear.

his lips crashed against yours, hot and desperate, his hands roaming your body with a reverence that made your skin burn under his touch. every kiss, every brush of his fingers felt like he was memorizing you, committing every curve and line of your body to memory. his kisses trailed lower, down the line of your jaw and across your neck, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of your skin.

“you’re so soft,” he murmured, his voice rough as his lips moved down to your collarbone. his hands slid to your waist, gripping you firmly, grounding himself in the feel of you as if you might slip away at any moment.

your breath hitched as his mouth found the curve of your breast, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin with maddening precision. his hand followed, cupping you gently, his thumb brushing over your hardened nipple in a way that made you arch into him.

when he reached the apex of your thighs, you tensed, your body trembling under the weight of his gaze. he paused, his hands resting on your hips, his thumbs brushing soothing circles into your skin.

"you’re trembling," he murmured, his voice low and thick with need.

"’m nervous," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"don’t be," he said, his lips quirking into a crooked smile as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. "i’ll take care of you. promise."

he kissed his way lower, pausing just above the apex of your thighs. his hands slid down to your knees, gently coaxing them further apart, and the cool air against your bare skin made you shiver. his gaze flicked up to yours, and the heat in his eyes made your breath catch.

"you’re so soft," he murmured, his fingers tracing the delicate skin of your inner thighs. "so perfect."

the first brush of his lips against your core made you gasp, your hips jerking instinctively at the sudden jolt of pleasure. stiles groaned at your reaction, the sound low and guttural, sending heat pooling low in your stomach.

"easy, angel," he muttered, his breath hot against your slick folds. "let me take my time with you."

and he did. stiles licked a long, languid stripe up the length of your slick folds, his tongue swirling around your clit before dipping lower to taste you. the noises he made—soft groans of approval as he tasted you, hums of satisfaction as your body writhed beneath him—only heightened the fire coursing through you. his lips closed around your swollen clit, sucking gently, and the sensation was enough to make your vision blur.

“stiles,” you gasped, your hands flying to his hair, threading through the messy strands as you tried to ground yourself against the overwhelming tide of sensation.

"that’s it," he rasped against you, his voice rough and gravelly. "let me hear how good i make you feel, angel."

his tongue delved between your folds, exploring every inch of you with a thoroughness that bordered on worship. he alternated between teasing your clit with quick, flicking strokes and thrusting his tongue inside you, tasting you from the inside out. the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth against you filled the room, and the sheer intimacy of it made your cheeks flush. you gasped, your fingers threading through his hair and tugging, but it only seemed to spur him on.

"you taste so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice muffled against you. he tilted his head, changing the angle, and the sound that escaped you—a sharp, desperate cry—made him growl in response. his fingers digging into your thighs as he pulled you closer to his mouth, as if he could consume you whole.

when he slid a finger inside you, curling it to press against that perfect spot, your back arched off the bed, a sharp cry tearing from your throat. he groaned at the way you clenched around him, his hips grinding into the mattress unconsciously as his own arousal built. he added a second finger, thrusting them in and out in a steady rhythm that left you gasping.

"fuck, you’re so tight," he muttered, his voice thick with need. "so wet for me."

his tongue returned to your clit, circling it with deliberate precision before sucking it into his mouth. the combined sensation of his tongue and fingers was overwhelming, and your body tensed as a wave of pleasure began to build, tightening with every movement.

you could feel his own body trembling against the bed, like he was barely holding himself together. every gasp, every twitch of your thighs, seemed to fuel him, his movements growing more fervent, more desperate. his stubble scraped against your sensitive skin, the sensation a sharp contrast to the heat of his mouth, and it made you gasp, your hips bucking against his face.

“fuck, stiles.” you cried, your fingers tugging hard at his hair, your legs shaking uncontrollably.

“yeah?” he muttered against you, his voice rough and almost teasing. “that good, angel?”

“shut up,” you gasped, but your words held no bite, your voice breaking into a whimper as he thrust his fingers deeper, his tongue swirling over your clit with unrelenting precision.

he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your core, and it made you tremble even harder. “can’t help it,” he said, his lips brushing against you as he spoke. “you’re just—God, i could do this forever.”

he shifted slightly, pulling your hips closer to his face, his grip bruising as he held you in place. you couldn’t move if you tried—not that you wanted to. all you could do was lie there, your body arching into his touch as he worked you over like he’d been made for this. like he’d been designed to unravel you.

the obscene wet sounds of his mouth on you filled the room, punctuated by your soft gasps and cries. his fingers curled again, dragging over that perfect spot inside you, and your thighs clamped instinctively around his head, trapping him there.

stiles groaned, clearly loving it. he pulled back just enough to grin up at you, his lips and chin glistening, his eyes blazing with lust. “you trying to suffocate me, angel?”

“don’t tempt me,” you shot back breathlessly, your hands still tangled in his hair, trying to pull him back down.

“oh, i’m tempted,” he said, his grin widening before he dove back in with even more fervor, his tongue and fingers moving faster, harder.

you arched off the bed again, your entire body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, coiling tight in your stomach. you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something overwhelming, something that threatened to consume you completely.

“shit, i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he growled against you, his voice rough and commanding. “i’ve got you. let me take care of you.”

his words only pushed you closer to the edge, the heat between your legs becoming almost unbearable. you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but feel. stiles seemed to sense it, his free hand sliding up your body to grasp your breast, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple in time with the flicks of his tongue.

you were trembling all over now, your legs quaking against his shoulders, your nails digging into his scalp. he wasn’t stopping, wasn’t slowing down, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on.

“fuck,” he muttered, pulling back for a brief moment to catch his breath. his lips were swollen and slick, his face flushed, and his hair was a wild mess from where your fingers had tugged at it. he looked wrecked, and it only made you hotter.

“you’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he said, his voice low and rough. “falling apart for me. you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

you glanced down at him, and your breath hitched when you saw the way his hips pressed against the bed, his obvious arousal straining against the fabric of his boxers. he was rutting against the mattress, unable to stop himself, and the sight of him so desperate, so undone by you, made your head spin.

“stiles…” you whispered, your voice shaky, and he groaned, ducking his head back between your thighs, his lips and tongue resuming their assault.

you weren’t going to last much longer. he wasn’t going to let you.

stiles' fingers worked deeper, curling inside you with a perfect rhythm that made your legs shake uncontrollably. his mouth was relentless, his tongue flicking over your clit in maddening circles, then sucking gently before starting all over again. he was completely lost in you—your taste, your scent, the way your body writhed under his touch.

your hips jerked upward, seeking more of the heat of his mouth, the pressure of his fingers. every nerve in your body was on fire, coiled so tightly you thought you might snap. stiles could feel it too; he groaned into you, his voice vibrating against your sensitive core, and it pushed you that much closer to the edge.

"you're trembling s’much," he murmured, lifting his mouth just enough to let his breath ghost over your soaked skin. his fingers continued their steady thrusts, his palm pressing against your clit in teasing pulses. "you're right there, aren’t you? c’mon, angel... let go. let me feel it."

his words sent a shudder through you, your thighs tightening around his head. stiles buried himself deeper, his tongue returning to your clit with renewed focus, his lips closing around it as his fingers curled again, finding that perfect spot that made your vision blur.

“stiles, oh—fuck,” your hands flew to his hair, holding him there as your body arched sharply off the bed, your head thrown back as the tension finally snapped.

a wave of pleasure crashed over you, raw and all-consuming, leaving you gasping for air as you came undone beneath him. heat spread through your body, every nerve lit up as your release coated his fingers, his mouth, soaking him in your arousal.

"that’s it angel," he said again, his voice dripping with satisfaction. his hips grinding into the mattress as he worked you through it, his tongue lapping at you like a man starved.

he finally pulled back slightly, his lips swollen and shining, his eyes dark as he looked up at you. his chin and cheeks were slick with your arousal, and he wore it like a badge of honor, his grin crooked and breathless.

"that’s my girl," he muttered, his voice thick with pride and awe. "did so good for me." his grin widening as he climbed over you, his body pressing against yours, solid and warm. his lips found yours, and you could taste yourself on him. but even as he kissed you, his hips pressing against yours, you could feel the hard, insistent heat of him through his boxers. “gonna take care of me aren’t you? gonna be a good little angel for me.”

and somewhere, in the back of his mind, he swore he could hear God laughing.

#eepwtf’s works ! ( •)▄︻テحكـ━一💥#stiles is a freak confirmed!#stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #spn!stiles stilinski x angel!reader #stiles stilinksi smut #smut #yah yah

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