#other days you will create something with nothing in your mind only to realise that even without knowing your brain was cooking Something.

[runariya]

Prompt game:

🥰🤪👽

Alien Jungkook's tentacles try to get attention from the reader. But reader is mad and giving Jungkook the silent treatment. So tentacles decide to take it in their hands (?). I'm sorry my imagination is bad, but i trust yours ;)

a/n: I hope it's alright that I used this request as a Y(E)ARNED bonus...it just fits the couple so well

To spend your days alongside Jungkook is nothing short of pure bliss, a kind of beauty that shows itself in moments both grand and unspoken. There is, indeed, a profound sweetness in being the object of his love, of his adoration, a warmth that seeps into every corner of your existence, making even the most ordinary hours shimmer with a peculiar magic. 

Yet, as with all such beautiful things, this love, though a balm for your soul, does not come without its moments of maddening frustration—little flashes of exasperation that threaten, every now and again, to undo all the softness with their dizzying intensity.

It is during these moments of quiet contentment, where you’ve developed a peculiar fondness for collecting miniature porcelain figurines of Earth’s animals—everything from delicate little ducks to turtles no bigger than a thumb, from bees captured mid-flight to cows rendered in the most absurd detail. 

You‘ve chosen each piece meticulously, though the greater part of the collection, truth be told, bears the mark of Jungkook’s love and generosity. There’s no species left unrepresented, no space on the shelf unfilled. But amidst them all, there is one that‘s your favourite, a tiny maneki-neko with a raised paw and a chubby little face, who commands the centre of the shelf of your now shared home. And of all the figurines, this one—Jackson, with his impossibly cute charm—holds a special place in your heart, the only figurine affectionately christened with a name, as if that alone elevates him from all the others. 

So when you hear the unmistakable, gut-wrenching sound of porcelain colliding with the hard floor while you’re busy tidying the kitchen, something inside you breaks too. 

You turn and see Jungkook standing by the shelf, frozen, his wide eyes filled with a kind of helpless guilt, his lips parting to release the softest, most regretful “oh-oh” that barely registers in the quiet room. Jackson, once proudly perched in his rightful place, is nowhere to be seen, and the realisation dawns on you as swiftly as the growing pit of frustration inside you.

“What did you do?” you ask, your voice tinged with horror as you throw unceremoniously the dish towel aside, running towards the shelf, your heart and mind already brace themselves for the worst.

Jungkook’s wide, panic-filled eyes lock onto yours, and as you glance down to to find poor Jackson, or rather what remains of him, shattered and scattered across the floor in a hundred tiny pieces before Jungkook’s feet, your heart shatters too, as though a part of it has been dashed against the cold floor with Jackson. 

“No…” you desperately whisper, the word as fragile as all your figurines, as you resist the overwhelming urge to drop to your knees  and gather the broken pieces, knowing full well that no amount of careful reconstruction will restore Jackson to his former state.

This isn’t the first time Jungkook, with all his towering presence and boundless energy, has accidentally decimated one of your precious figurines, his sheer physicality, though endearing at many other times, always at odds with the delicate world you curated and that is so easily fractured. But this time, it’s Jackson, and somehow that makes it worse.

“I—I didn’t mean to,” he stammers, his voice fumbling over itself as he scrambles for some sort of excuse, eyes darting as if searching for a way out of the mess he’s created.

“Oh, right,” you say, incredulous, “Jackson just leapt off the shelf, did he? Jungkook, you knew he was my favourite! How could you—how could you let this happen?”

“I swear, it wasn’t me… it… it was them!” he protests, pointing towards his remaining two and free tentacles that hover ominously behind him, as though they too have witnessed the grand disaster. The tentacles, however, seem none too pleased with his accusation; they rear up, jaws flexing as though insulted, ready to challenge his words, daring him to continue with the absurdity.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, turning away, exasperation and resignation rolling off you in waves, the whole spectacle having become too much to bear, leaving the wreckage of both Jackson and your patience in your wake as you walk away, tired of this particular chaos.

"Princess, please, I’m sorry!" Jungkook follows you in a desperate attempt to soothe your anger, fully aware that he’s really messed up this time.

But you don’t answer. He’s destroyed your things more times than you can count—accidentally, yes, but still enough for you to give him the silent treatment before you say something you might regret. So when you enter your bedroom, lying down on your side and huffing with a blank stare, you refuse to acknowledge Jungkook, who’s now kneeling before you, clasping your tiny hands in his, puppy eyes in overdrive.

"I’m really sorry, Princess. Please forgive me, I’ll buy you another Jackson." Jungkook’s pleading eyes would usually make you give in, but this time he’s destroyed more than just a replaceable figurine. No, he murdered Jackson, your precious maneki-neko, taking your good fortune with him. So, no, you’re not giving in. You pull your hands away from his and huffily turn around to avoid his face.

Jungkook scrambles to his feet at that, running around the bed, stumbling over his own big feet, and jumping onto his side. "I mean it, I’ll buy you ten! A hundred! A million! Please, Princess, don’t be mad at me." But again, you just turn back around.

You hear Jungkook sigh in resignation as he plops down on his pillow, mumbling apology after apology that you’re not willing to acknowledge. It doesn’t take long before you feel one of his tentacles tentatively brush along your shoulder, but you shake it off, too fed up to accept any affection.

It tries again, but this time, you stop yourself from pushing it away, realising the tentacle—or rather, they—aren’t the ones at fault. A second tentacle soon joins, poking your side as if to tease you into letting go of your anger. But you still are, not at them, but at Jungkook. You start to pet them, though, and the simple action begins to soothe your frustration.

"Oh, so you’re giving them attention but not me?!" Jungkook whines.

"My precious babies," you coo lovingly, "got accused of doing something they didn’t."

"But they did! It’s all their fault!" He shouldn’t have said that, because his tentacles don’t see it like that though, and the next thing you hear is Jungkook yelping, "Ouch! Don’t attack me! Ouch! You’re supposed to protect me! Hey!"

You do your best to suppress the laugh bubbling up, knowing full well Jungkook deserves it for lying so boldly. When his tentacles slither back towards you, settling over and in front of you, you resume petting them, while Jungkook sulks silently behind you.

Your anger gradually fades, the soothing motions of Jungkook’s tentacles helping you calm down. "Do you know why Jackson was my favourote? He was the first figurine you ever gave me. On our 100th day anniversary." 

He remains silent, so you go on. "He wasn’t just a figurine. He was a symbol of our relationship and our good fortune."

"I’m sorry," Jungkook whispers, clearly sad now.

"You can’t replace him."

"I know."

"And you can’t make him whole again."

"I know." His voice is faint now, as if he truly understands just how deeply he’s messed up.

His tentacles begin to run along your arms, sensing your sadness too. You feel movement behind you, and as Jungkook’s breath fans across your neck and his big hand lightly strokes your arm alongside his tentacles, your resolve to stay mad a little longer disappears entirely. You turn around, facing his beautiful face and mesmerising eyes.

"I never understood why he was your favourite, but now I do. I’m really sorry, Princess."

"S’fine," you mumble, gently stroking his cheekbone.

"Do you want to know what my symbol of our relationship is?"

"Hm?"

Jungkook’s connected tentacles lift behind his back. "This. And this is something that’ll never break, no matter what."

Your eyes well up with tears because, frankly, he’s right. It shouldn’t be a fragile figurine that carries the very symbol of your love, but Jungkook himself. You regret ever giving Jackson that meaning, because there’s something so much stronger than porcelain—a living, conscious bond that shows just how meaningful and overwhelming your connection with Jungkook is.

"I’m sorry."

"You don’t have to be. Please don’t say that. I love you, Princess."

"I love you too, Jungkook."

And it's true, you’re the happiest woman in the world, now and always.

[raazberry]

my relationship with my own art changed drastically once i recognised the inherent awesomeness of "bad" art.... like wow. there is meaning in every little thing, whether it's aesthetically pleasing or not, whether it strives to have meaning or not. that's insane

[olivianyx]

OMGG I JUST GOT RESULTS WITHOUT BEATING MYSELF UP WITH ROUTINES 😭 + RANT ✨

HEYY LUVS! I JUST WANNA SHARE MY RESULTS I MANIFESTED WITHIN 2-3 DAYS! THIS YEAR'S GONNA BE MY BEST YEAR Y'ALL ✋AND GUESS WHAT I DID? NOTHING. LITERALLY NOTHING. NUH-UH. PERIODT.

⚠ LONG POST AHEAD, SWEARING ⚠

WHAT I MANIFESTED:

🪄 PASSING MY FRESHMAN YEAR WITH HIGH SCORES

🪄 MY FAMILY BOUGHT A NEW APARTMENT WHICH WERE PREPARING TO MOVE IN 3 WEEKS

🪄 ME GETTING INTO THE VOID STATE 😭 AND MANIFESTED CLEAR SKIN! (DAYUM GETTING INTO THE VOID IS DEFO VERY EASY OMGG)

🪄 GETTING LESS ANXIOUS LATELY!

🪄 MY GASTRITIS AND ULCERITIS GETTING CURED

🪄 GETTING MORE COMPLIMENTS IN MY UNI!

🪄 GETTING TALLER! I WENT FROM 5'3" TO 5'7" IN 2 DAYS 😭😭

🪄 GETTING DREAMS OF ME SHIFTING TO MY WR 🥺 (ACTUALLY RESPAWNING LOL, AS THIS THING IS REALLY CONTROVERSIAL IN HERE, PLEASE DON'T GET ME CANCELLED- I'M DOING DEATHLESS RESPAWNING ✋)

🪄 MY MIND IS SURPRISINGLY CALM 😌 THERE'S STILL INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS THO (THOSE ARE ANNOYING ASS BITCHES) BUT I JUST IGNORE EM LIKE I IGNORE PEOPLE AT SCHOOL 🗿

🪄 GOT MANY CONFESSIONS TOO 😭 AND I REJECTED EM ALL, CUS I JUST WANT TO BE SINGLE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE ✋🗿 JK

🪄 GETTING COOL CLOTHES THAT MY MOM DENIED A LOTTA TIMES! (ACTUALLY I'VE ORDERED EM BUT STILL HAVEN'T SHIPPED TO MY ADDRESS YET LOL)

🪄 MY CRUSH BECOMING CLOSE TO ME HEHE 🤭 LIKE SHE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT ME MUCH, BUT LATELY SHE'S BEEN TOO CLOSE TO ME AND ALWAYS WANNA BE WITH ME LOL, 3 DAYS BACK SHE AND I WALKED HOME TOGETHER, WHILE WE GRABBED SOME SNACKS, SPOKE ABT EACH OTHER AND ALL (I FELT LIKE BEING IN A SHOUJO MANGA 😩)

🪄 A NEW PHONE! THAT SAMSUNG GALAXY S22 😩

I MANIFESTED EVERYTHING WITHIN 3 DAYS 😭 I REALLY CAN'T BELIEVE MY EYES, JUST. 3. FUCKING. DAYS. GODDAMMIT.

HOW I DID IT:

JUST FULFILLED IT IN MY IMAGINATION

YEP, YOU HEARD THAT RIGHT. I LIVED IN THE 4D REALITY, I NEVER GAVE A SHIT ABOUT THE 3D AT ALL. OK LEMME BREAK IT DOWN FOR Y'ALL SO JUST PAY ATTENTION FROM HERE ONWARDS.

🪄 SUPPOSE SOMETHING UNDESIRABLE OR UNFAVORABLE CIRCUMSTANCES ARE HAPPENING IN YOUR 3D. WHO'S THE CAUSE FOR THAT? YOU. 'BUT I DIDN'T IMAGINE OR THINK OF THESE 😭' BABY, YOU'RE THE SOLE CAUSE, EFFECT, AND THE SOLUTION. THERE'S NO OTHER EXPLANATION TO THIS.

🪄 AS WE ALL KNOW, 3D IS A MIRROR. RIGHT? WHATEVER YOU THINK ABOUT, YOUR ASSUMPTIONS, YOUR THOUGHTS, YOUR FEELINGS, YOUR PERSPECTIVE EVERYTHING WILL BE REFLECTED. SO WHY NOT THINK THE WAY YOU WANT SO YOU CAN EXPERIENCE THE SAME? GET IT.

🪄 IF YOU WANT TO CHANGE THE 3D, CHANGE YOUR 4D FIRST. CHANGE YOUR PERSPECTIVE TO HOW YOUR DESIRED SELF WOULD SEE THE WORLD. KEEP DWELLING IN IT. IF THE 3D SHOWS UNFAVORABLE CIRCUMSTANCES, DON'T FUCKING GET TRIGGERED. GO BACK TO YOUR IMAGINATION AND DENY YOUR SENSES.

🪄 EVERYTIME YOU SEE SOMETHING ELSE IN THE 3D, GO 'BRUHH THIS IS MY OLD STORY, I ALREADY HAVE WHAT I WANT, THIS IS JUST FAKE' AND MOVE ON. DISTRACT YOURSELF. CUS THE 3D WORLD WHICH YOU SEE IS AN ILLUSION, IT'S NOT REAL. IT'S YOUR CREATION, WHY WOULD YOU TRY TO CONTROL WHAT YOU CREATED? IT'S ALREADY IN CONTROL. YOU ONLY GOTTA REALISE YOUR GODSELF. YOU ARE THE CREATOR, NOT THE CREATION. STOP FUCKING VICTIMIZING YOURSELF.

🪄 I GET IT THAT MOST OF THE PEOPLE ARE CONFUSED BETWEEN LAW OF ASSUMPTION AND NON DUALISM. EVEN I WAS, BUT SLOWLY I REALISED THAT WE'RE ALL NOTHING. WE'RE JUST LIVING IN OUR OWN CREATIONS. VICTIMIZING OURSELVES IN OUR OWN CREATIONS. IRONIC RIGHT?

🪄 THOSE THOUGHTS, ANXIETY, FEELINGS, EMOTIONS ARE ALL IN YOUR PHYSICAL REALM. YOUR MIND, YOUR BODY, YOUR EGO EVERYTHING IS NO REAL, WE ASSUME IT TO BE. WE'RE ARE SHAPELESS, FORMLESS, WE'RE NOTHING! AND EVERYTHING AT THE SAME TIME. CUS EVERYTHING COMES DOWN TO ONE THING, I AM.

🪄 K Y'ALL MIGHT BE SUPER CONFUSED, WHAT I'M TRYNA INFUSE IN YOUR BRAINS. SO WHAT YOU DO IS, LIVE IN YOUR 4D.HOW? IMAGINATION. NO MATTER WHAT YOU SEE IN YOUR 3D, GO BACK TO YOUR IMAGINATION, AFFIRM OR VISUALISE. ANYTHING IS FINE BTW. JUST STAY IN THE STATE OF WISH FULFILLED.

🪄 STOP RELYING ON METHODS, FUCK THEM. JUST BE. DON'T TRY TO CHANGE SOMETHING WHEN YOU ALREADY HAVE THEM. JUST STOP, SURRENDER, STOP FIGHTING, STOP TRYING SO HARD WHEN YOUR ALREADY IT. SO GO LIVE IN YOUR IMAGINATION, FULLY SURRENDER. DO THINGS WHICH YOU LIKE. GO LIVE YOUR LIFE. TAKE YOUR POWER BACK.

LIKE AREN'T YOU TIRED? TRAPPED IN YOUR OWN CREATIONS? YOU CREATED THEM, YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE WHATEVER. TELL ME HOW LONG ARE YOU GONNA LIVE THIS BULLSHIT LIFE? YOU'RE REALLY GETTING COMFORTABLE BEING UNCOMFORTABLE. SO LISTEN UP, DO WHAT YOU LOVE, AFFIRM, VISUALISE, OR DAYDREAM, ZONE OUT, WHATEVER. ALL I DID WAS DO THIS MEDITATION IN THE MORNING, WENT ABOUT MY DAY WATCHING JUJUTSU KAISEN LMAO. THEN RANDOMLY AFFIRM, LIVED IN MY 4D, NEVER PAYED ANY FUCKING ATTENTION TO MY 3D, CUS I'M GOD. I REALLY LOVE VISUALISING, SO I PUT ON A SONG AND START DAYDREAMING IN MY ROOM SMILING LIKE AN IDIOT. ALSO, I DID SATS BEFORE GOING TO BED. THAT'S IT. THAT'S ALL I DID FOR 3 FUCKING DAYS, AND GOT WHAT EVER I WANT. ALSO I MADE A CUSTOM TAPE TOO (IT'S A GENERAL SELF CONCEPT ONE) I LISTENED TO IT FOR 30 MINS AND JUST WENT ABOUT MY DAY THINKING I HAD WHATEVER I FUCKING DESIRE, CUS IT'S ALL MY CREATIONS AND I HAVE IT ALREADY. THERE'S NOTHING TO GET, IT'S ALREADY IN ME.

LUV YOU, BYE 💋

[lokidjarin-7567]

TTPD Contents

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

Erik Lehnsherr x Reader x Charles Xavier After joining the First Class of Professor X’s school with your brother Hank, you realised you have a connection with two of the mutants there, and that they might also have a connection to each other… fem!reader, M/F/M, 18+ MDNI 6,258 words EDIT: I'm super proud of this one, maybe my favourite thing I've written! Thanks for all the love on it so far <3

“It’s not going to happen, Charles.” You muttered, frustrated, putting all of your energy into stopping him from walking towards you, but only managing to stop his hand.

“You need to go to that place between…” He started to explain.

“Anger and serenity, I know, I know. I’m not Erik, its not working.” He sighed, moving his hand to his forehead.

“May I?”

“Sure, go ahead.” There was nothing he would see in there that he hadn’t before.

You realised early in your friendship that there wasn’t a lot of point hiding anything from him. You were never sure when he was reading your thoughts, only when he spoke to you without moving his lips, or when he would find a memory like he was doing now. You saw a few flash through your mind, recent ones. The relief when Hank had told you that there were others like you and him. The anger when Shaw had killed Darwin in front of your eyes just a few days ago. The moment your mother found out there was something different about Hank, and kicked him out, so you followed him. Your brother’s mutation was significantly more obvious than your’s, but you left with him regardless. He had always been more than family; he was your best friend, your true and sole confidant, your lifeline. Following your train of thought, Charles managed to find a memory synonymous to that - the day you found out about his mutation. The way he cried and broke down, explained the science to you to try and ensure you understood it, but you didn’t need him to. You whispered his name softly, and told him to wave at you. The perplexed look on his face, but you insisted so he did. Then you stopped his hand dead in its tracks. The shock and relief on his face, the hug you shared, the tears you both shed. It was a joyous memory, peaceful.

You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye and Charles did the same, releasing you from the memory and now you were back in the bunker underneath his family’s house, watching as he nodded to you.

“Now try again.” He moved to the other side of the bunker again, and you concentrated hard, reaching your hand out towards him and trying to stop his slow walk towards you. You were technically telekinetic, but only when the other object was moving. The lighter the object, and the faster it was moving, the easier it was to control. And generally, you would just been able to stop it. You knew that you could move things as well once you had control over them - you had done it once, the day you had gotten your powers, but never since. And if it took that level of trauma to do it again, you hoped you never would.

“You’re moving too slowly!” You exclaimed, huffing in frustration.

“Ok, ok fine. Maybe we need to stop thinking of your powers as telekinesis.” You frowned, confused. Controlling objects was telekinesis. “Just trust me here for a moment…” Of course I trust you, you saved my life and continue to daily. “Close your eyes.” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes tightly. His voice appeared in your head, a soft whisper that immediately put you at ease.

Telekinesis is about creating movement, but you can manipulate movement. And do that, you need to be able to sense the movement around you. I can’t manipulate or read someones mind without being able to sense it, even if I can see the person. It might be the same with you. I’m standing still but I’m going to move soon - keep your eyes closed and see if you can sense me.

You focussed, reaching out into the black space and it took a few seconds, but you could feel him moving. Slowly, his image formed in your mind. You could see the way he was moving: the large, over dramatic steps he was taking, the emphatic hand wave, and you smiled. You reached out to him with even more concentration, but you surprised yourself with how easy it was to stop him in his tracks, cementing his feet to the floor so he almost fell over.

“Holy shit, Charles, you’re a genius.” You opened your eyes, releasing him and seeing the grin that had spread across his face. It was contagious, your own smile growing.

“I know I know, but we’re not done yet, you have a lot more in you…” He was pacing, thinking, and high on the adrenaline, you reached out to stop him, to play with your powers, only to find… you couldn’t. You couldn’t sense his movement. You could see him, but there was nothing else.

“I can’t…” you muttered, continuing to try as hard as you could, but nothing. He frowned, and you heard his voice softly inside your head.

Close your eyes again.

You did, and sure enough, there he was, his movement growing clearer in your mind by the second. You opened your eyes, and it was gone, the tangibility somehow lost when you could actually see him.

“Ok, ok, let’s try this…” He looked around for something, then settled his tie, pulling it from his collar in a swift motion and striding over to you, making you blush. “Can you use this as a blindfold?” He asked, and you nodded, allowing him to press the soft fabric across your closed eyes, the world going black as he tied it in a gentle knot. The difference was instant. It was as though you could physically see him still, a soft, golden glow outlining his body and his movements. Every single detail was highlighted to you.

“Try standing still?” He did, stopping dead in his tracks, but you could still see him - every miniscule shiver across his skin, the rising and falling of his chest with his breaths, the slight tremble in his fingers. “Charles…” you muttered, “I can see everything.”

“What do you mean everything?”

“Look for yourself.” You watched as he raised his hand to his temple, and you saw the subtle changes in his face as it shifted from confused to shocked, a grin spreading.

“That’s incredible. Is it easier to stop movement now as well?” You smiled, instantly halting his arm in the air as he tried to return it to his side. He laughed aloud. “You’re amazing.”

“I know.” You shrugged, letting him go, hands reaching up to remove your makeshift blindfold when you felt something move across the room. Without thinking, you reached back towards it, spinning around just in time to see the door you just felt opening slam shut.

“What the fuck?” You heard an annoyed voice from the other side of the closed door, and you laughed in disbelief. You’d done it.

“Oh my God, did you see that?” You span back to Charles, smiling uncontrollably.

“Yes I did, my dear. Yes I did.” You squealed with joy, running over to give him a hug, which he readily returned. You still had your blindfold on, and you could feel his heart beating when you were this close, even the blood rushing through his veins.

“Thank you.” You whispered in his ear, and he moved back, holding your head in his hands.

“This was all you.” The moment was broken, though, by the door opening again, although slightly cautiously this time. It was Erik - you could see it was him by his movements, and the shape of his body.

“Did you just close the door on me? And why are you blindfolded?” He paused, confusion etched across his face, followed by an almost knowing smirk. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Jesus, no…” Charles piped up quickly, heart rate skyrocketing as he moved across the room to Erik, putting distance between you and him. “We’ve found a way to…”

“I closed the door with my power!” You interrupted, excited, but he did not have the same reaction as Charles did. He actually had no reaction at all.

“So… you can, what, control your power better when you’re blindfolded?” You nodded.

He cocked his head, then he stretched out his arm, and you presumed it was to see if you were telling the truth, but before you could open your mouth to tell him he’d moved, you felt something moving quickly towards you. It was your keys, and you stopped them in midday, before pulling them safely into your hand.

“Hey, that could’ve taken my eye out!” He just laughed.

“There’s a lot more where that came from.”

You often wondered about how your life would have turned out without this place. You hadn’t exactly been here long, but it had already transformed you into someone better, more powerful, more in control. You spent the day with Charles and Erik, getting to grips with your newfound power, figuring out how to use it fully, and that you should keep things on you that you could throw and move to your advantage in the field like Erik did. You felt like you could actually be helpful to them now. And only just in time. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.

You finally got back to your room, laying down almost straight away, your feet aching from the long day. It was a beautiful house, and you would always be grateful to Charles for allowing you to stay, even if it only ended up being for a short while. You didn’t have anywhere else to go, after all.

You closed your eyes, grabbing the small, metal orbs Erik had given you from your pocket, and throwing them in the air, grabbing them with your power as they visualised. You smiled, remembering just a few hours ago when he gave them to you. The way your hands had grazed, his gaze as intense as it always was. The way he had encouraged you as you practiced, and been harsh when you made a mistake.

You had to be careful with your thoughts when you were around Charles. Guarded. There were a lot of things you thought about that you never wanted him to know.

He was one of those things. Erik was the other.

You couldn’t help it; they were both so attractive in different ways. Charles was soft and kind, a smile that could warm you from the inside out and a charm that could make you do anything he asked, no mutation needed. Erik was the opposite, harsh and damaged, cold in his mannerisms, but there was a concern to him that he tried to hide. He always failed, doing everything and more to protect the mutants around him. To fight for them. And to make sure you fought for them too.

“That wasn’t good enough.” You remember a moment from your day when he nearly shouted, frustrated that you had only stopped a flying chunk of metal he had flung at you rather than moving it as well.

“I’m not used to this, Erik.”

“So? We all had to learn to control our powers quick, you aren’t special.” You huffed, clenching your fists as Charles let out a soft, warning whisper of his name, but he carried on. “You can do more than that. I don’t care when or how you got your powers, but even if you got them yesterday, you would be doing a hell of a lot better than you are right now.” While he was talking, you were steadily getting angrier, and halfway through a sentence you noticed a new piece of metal hurtling towards you. You flicked it away without any effort, hearing it smash against the wall and falling to the ground, noticing that the white hot rage had sharpened your vision. He continued to throw more and more object at you, and you continued to retaliate, not realising you were moving towards him until he started to move backwards. He reached the wall, and threw a knife in a last ditch effort. Charles cried out in warning, but you didn’t need it, pulling the knife straight into your hand and holding it to Erik’s neck.

“You have no fucking clue what I’ve gone through to get this power.” You were close enough to feel the shuddering breath he let out, and you could see the way he clenched his jaw, his eyes scanning your face meticulously, as though you couldn’t see every minuscule movement he made through your blindfold.

“I know it was bad enough that you didn’t want to use your gifts for a long time.” You felt as though the wind had been knocked from your lungs, and you stepped back, dropping the knife to the floor with a clatter, making your way back across the room.

“Again.”

How you got your powers was a memory even Charles hadn’t seen. You had never let him. Some subconscious part of you protected it viciously; the first time he had even tried, your mutation had taken over, gripping the only thing you could sense moving and stopping it. That thing just so happened to be his heart.

He hadn’t gone near that memory since.

And neither had you.

You should be trying to get some rest. You had a big day tomorrow. You were going after Shaw. Saving the world. Letting Erik get his revenge on that bastard. It was going to be difficult. You just hoped you could be helpful in spite of everything.

It was no use though. You were unable to think about anything else, so you got up and ventured out to find Hank. You just wanted to check if he'd incorporated the blindfold into your suit, and maybe to get some reassurance from your big brother, but as you wandered through the expansive house, you noticed an unusual quietness. Glancing at a clock, you realised it was later than you'd thought—you should definitely be resting too. But as you were passing the main study, you heard voices and paused, listening for Hank.

Hank isn’t here, but you can come in.

Your heart lurched, although you couldn’t tell if it was from surprise, or an involuntary reaction to his smooth voice. Concentrate, you scolded yourself, opening the door. Both Charles and Erik were sitting in the study in big, leather arm chairs, chess board in front of them and glasses of whiskey nestled in their hands. God, you needed one right now.

“Help yourself.” He said aloud, and you laughed to yourself quietly.

“It still takes me by surprise when you do that.” You moved over to the cabinet, pouring yourself a generous amount, before turning around to see another chair being moved to where they were sitting, Erik’s hand outstretched towards its metal feet. He set it down opposite their’s, and you sat gratefully, tucking your legs up and taking a sip.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” Charles asked, his voice strong and earnest. You frowned.

“Why do you ever ask questions when you could just see it?”

Would you really rather I was in here all the time?

“No of course not.” He already was. You took another sip. “And I’m terrified.”

“You don’t have to come, you know.” It was Erik this time. He spoke quietly, eyes never leaving the chess board.

“I want to.” You said it with finality, hoping to convey a confidence you certainly didn’t feel, but they both seemed to accept it.

“Your progress has been incredible today; you’re going to be a big help out there.” You smiled at the words but still not fully believing them, having another drink and averting your eyes to the chessboard.

“Do you want to play?” Erik asked, and you shook your head.

“No, thank you, I think I’ll watch if that’s ok.” Maybe they didn’t want you here. “Unless that would be crashing your evening, I don’t want to be a nuisance…”

“Never.” He muttered, moving one of his pawns. You smiled, settling further into the chair.

It was at times like this that you wished you had Charles’ power. They had been playing for a while now, and you wanted to know what they were thinking, their plans for the game. You tried to guess, but your chess knowledge was rusty at best, and you kept getting distracted. You hadn’t moved in the last 30 minutes - only once before that to get another drink - and they didn’t speak much when they played, so your mind wandered. Naturally. And it didn’t help that the thing your mind had been wandering to this past week was sat in front of you.

You watched as Erik’s hand gracefully moved a piece across the board from afar, the steel-tipped bishop gliding with ease, then returning to his thigh. His legs were spread slightly, hand resting on each while he continued to look at the board, shuffling slightly in his seat, his hips moving up and forwards and hands sliding further down them and you couldn’t help but think about…

Charles said your name, and you cleared your throat.

“Hmm?” You really hoped he hadn’t been in your head then.

“Weren’t you looking for Hank earlier?”

“Oh… yes I was but it can wait until tomorrow, it wasn’t important.” He’s telling you to leave. “Unless you wanted some space, sorry I totally crashed your night…”

“I promise you aren’t, darling, I just wanted to check you hadn’t forgotten something important.” Darling. He used nicknames a lot, maybe it was a British thing, but it still made your heart flutter every time.

“Thank you.” You smiled quietly as Erik stood up, offering another drink. You accepted, his hand grazing yours as he took the glass from it, fireworks dancing across your skin.

What should I do next?

His voice called out in your head, and you smiled lightly, knowing he didn’t need your help but wanting to include you nonetheless, probably after hearing you mind racing with thoughts of being an annoyance.

Bishop to F6.

I was thinking the same thing.

Erik returned, almost making you jump as the glass was placed back in your hand. Charles moved exactly as you had said as soon as Erik had sat down, and he paused, looking at the board intently, fingers running around the rim of his glass. Jesus, was he doing this on purpose? You twisted in your chair under the guise of getting comfortable to face towards Charles, but he was no better. He was stretched out, his legs wide, hand resting on his chin, shirt sleeves pushed up to the elbows. Fucking hell. It was barely anything, they were literally just sitting down, concentrating on their game, relaxing before what was bound to be a difficult day, but your mind couldn’t stop running away with itself. And to be fair to you, you were tipsy, stressed, and currently sitting in a room with two men who you happened to find insanely attractive. Of course you were going to have some thoughts. You couldn’t help it. About what they might be like. You figure Erik would be a little rougher, domineering, but Charles would talk to you, praise you. Use his powers to know exactly what you needed, to make you feel good…

His power.

Fuck.

You needed to get out of here before you just about died of embarrassment, and you could feel yourself blushing even though he showed no sign of knowing. If there was even a chance he knew, you needed to run, to leave, to literally never show your face here again. You downed your drink, a slight sting settling in the back of your throat.

“I should probably get going,” you croaked, barely managing to talk through sheer shame, “try and get some sleep before tomorrow. Thank you for the drink.” You had moved to stand, feet hitting the floor, but Charles held out a hand to you in a gesture to stop.

“Just one second…” He muttered, looking at Erik intensely. He wasn’t saying anything, but they held eye contact and you realised that he must be talking to him. Oh dear God. There was no expression on either of their faces, so unreadable it made you feel slightly insane. Oh God he saw it. What would he even think of you? Then, without warning, Charles stood up. You thought he might be going to get a drink, but he stopped behind you, and after an excruciating moment, his hands fell to your shoulders. You sighed and fell into them as he started to squeeze lightly, working the muscles that were there in a way that felt so good it was hard not to moan, so you hummed in contentment instead.

“I know it’s been a long day… maybe we can help you relax a little.” We? At that point, Erik stood up, expression still completely unreadable, and placed his fingers gently under your chin, lifting it to meet his eyes. His beautiful fucking eyes.

“Does that sound ok?” He whispered, and you practically melted.

"Yes, God, yes," you breathed. Erik closed the gap before you could finish, his lips capturing yours hungrily as his hand found your thigh. He pulled away, leaving you breathless, but before you could recover, he tilted your head back with a gentle grip on your chin. Charles' lips met yours, tender and exploratory. As he kissed you, his fingers traced soft circles on your collarbone. You sensed Erik's intense gaze, then felt his lips brush your neck—a fleeting touch, gentle yet promising more. You gasped into Charles' mouth, overwhelmed by their dual attention.

“My room’s closest.”

You made it there without bumping into anyone, a true blessing considering your hand in Charles’ and the strong grip Erik had on your hips the whole way. You had barely closed the door before he was on you again, lips on your neck and shoulder, hips grinding up against your ass, and something else too. You noticed Charles was standing just away from the two of you, watching intently with an expression close to disbelief. You smiled at him warmly, pulling him closer just as Erik lightly nipped your shoulder in a way that made you whimper. You reached back, running your nails in his hair, before pulling him towards Charles. They both smiled softly, lips meeting as you stayed in between them, both of their bodies pressed up against you. You took the opportunity to undo a few of Charles’ shirt buttons, and planting a couple of delicate kisses to the top of his chest. You felt giddy with arousal, mind completely taken away from the stress of the whatever was to come the following day, hands taking their time to explore his chest and further down as you continued to undo his buttons, his shirt falling open as you pulled him closer still, pressing his skin to yours.

Let me know if you want us to stop. There is no pressure here, sweetheart, just whatever you want.

You nodded, watching as Charles pulled back from Erik. His eyes scanned your face for any sign of discomfort, though he could surely sense the pleasure coursing through your mind — and they'd barely touched you yet. You hummed contentedly as Erik's hands found the hem of your tank top, pulling it off while Charles' fingers trailed down your arms, grasping your hands and guiding you towards the bed. Shimmying out of your sweatpants, you sat down and kicked them off, then shuffled further up the bed. You leaned back on your elbows, hoping to entice them to join you, but they remained standing, their eyes raking over every inch of you. Suddenly self-conscious, you realised that, apart from Charles' open shirt, they were both still fully clothed, while you lay before them in just your underwear. You would have to change that..

You closed your eyes tight, focusing on them. Charles must’ve heard your thoughts, and he was removing his shirt now, moving to his belt, but Erik just stood, watching you both. He looked so calm, but you could see his rapid, heaving breaths, and the desperation that was growing in his trousers. His breathing was just enough movement for you to latch on to, reaching out and starting to pull up the hem of his top, and he smirked, a grin spreading as he lifted his arms to help you, and you discarded the black material across the room. You blinked your eyes open slowly, and after a small pause where Charles glanced at him, presumably communicating where they were going to be, and finally got a good look at him before he knelt down before the bed, grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him, making you squeal.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, planting kisses up your thighs as his fingertips hooked under your pants, pulling them off. You sat up slightly as Charles moved behind you, resting your back against his chest. He grasped your jaw, turning your head to kiss him. "And this is quite a view…" You blushed, giggling, as Erik settled between your legs, his hands gripping your ass and angling you for access.

"So is this," Charles whispered, his hands finding your bra clasp as Erik's kisses inched closer to your aching core.

"Fuck, Erik…" you whimpered, your hand darting to his hair as his tongue delved into your folds, his hot mouth enveloping you with a groan. Your bra discarded, hands immediately cupped and kneaded your chest, making your head roll back, eyes fluttering closed with sheer bliss. Charles's lips found your neck, nipping the sensitive skin behind your ear and eliciting a soft moan.

"He thinks you taste divine, darling," Charles whispered, and you smiled, already panting as the pressure in your core built. "He does think you could be a little louder, though…" As if on cue, Erik's hands left your ass—one arm pinning you to the bed by your hips, the other at your entrance. Before you knew it, he was pushing two fingers inside you. You groaned, still holding back slightly, acutely aware of the house full of people.

Don’t be shy, I can make sure no one can hear you.

As his voice echoed in your mind, Erik's fingers inside you curled upward, hitting that sweet spot that made you melt. Simultaneously, Charles' fingers found your nipples, pinching and rolling them in a deliciously painful way that drew a guttural noise from your throat. The sound was loud and raw, tearing through your body just like the building pleasure was. Erik's tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit, never pausing. You writhed on the bed, so close to the edge it almost hurt, your moans and whines filling the room.

“Oh God… fuck I think I’m going to…” You felt Erik groan against you, and you looked down at him, seeing him peering up at you through half lidded eyes, lust on his face evident and a realisation hit you then. One of the most powerful men in the world was on his knees in front of you, and behind you was the other, lips planted on your neck, their sole purpose being to give you pleasure. It was enough to send you over the edge.

Your back arched, pressing further into Charles as a low, reverberating groan was pulled from your throat, riding out the waves with his mouth still between your thighs, and you couldn’t stop your hips from grinding into him. He finally realised you when you were done, shaking and quivering on the bed, slowly removing his fingers from you.

“You should really have a taste, Charles.” He muttered, moving up onto the bed and crawling over you to reach him, presenting his fingers to his mouth. You watch in awe as Charles took them into his mouth gratefully, sucking them clean as Erik watched, a dark look entering his eyes.

“You were right…” he muttered, hands moving to your hair and pushing it from your face as he kissed you gently. “Divine.” You hummed into his mouth and kissed him harder, tasting yourself on his tongue, which made that all too familiar ache build up in your core once again.

“Look at that…” you heard Erik start talking, alongside the sound of his belt buckle undoing, “she’s needy already.” You released Charles lips, sitting up slightly to grab a hold of Erik’s waistband, undoing the button and fly quickly and frantically, revealing the huge tent in his boxers.

“Looks like I’m not the only one…” you whispered, moving into a seated position on your knees as your hands ran gently across his bulge, seeing his hips move towards you instinctively, begging for more even though the rest of his body language said otherwise. “I can help with that.” His eyes darkened, and you wondered where he would want to be, but Charles was one step ahead of you.

He wants your mouth, darling. You smiled, guiding him back to the headboard with a gentle push on his chest, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles before letting him get comfortable. Meanwhile, you turned your attention to Charles, putting on a show as you kissed him again, but deeper this time, your tongue taking its time to explore his mouth. Your hands deftly worked at his trousers while his roamed the lower half of your body, all eager grasps and breathless pants against your lips. You loved seeing him come undone beneath your touch, his raw desire palpable, and yours was evident by the slick forming between your thighs.

"Turn around for me, sweetheart." Erik's gruff voice rang out behind you. You obliged, settling on your knees to see a beautiful sight. He had finally taken off his trousers and boxers, and you paused to drink him in. Relaxed against the headboard, legs spread wide, his posture screamed dominance, accentuated by the small smirk playing on his lips as he watched you. Your gaze wandered down, taking in his toned body, strong arms, and down to the happy trail leading to the thing you wanted most. He was hard—painfully so, it seemed—and he stroked himself languidly while waiting for you. And he was big, bigger than you expected, and you swallowed hard at the thought of him, of how he would feel….

Charles had also stripped down completely, and he moved right behind you on the bed, hips pressed to your ass, and his erection pressed against your back.

“Come here…” Erik said, leaning forward and pulling you close by the back of your neck and smashing his lips into yours. You could feel Charles behind you, pulling your hips back and setting you up for him, his hands kneading your ass in a way that made you moan into Erik’s mouth.

Are you safe?

On the pill, I’m all yours. Erik released you from his lips and sat back, giving Charles a small nod and using the hand on your neck to keep your head up and facing him.

“Eyes on me, babygirl.” You nodded, eyes widening and a moan escaping your lips as you felt Charles press up against your entrance, fully sheathing himself in one swift motion.

“Fuck, darling, you feel so good.” He groaned, breathing ragged.

"God, so do you," you whispered, breathless as you adjusted to his size. Your eyes remained locked on Erik's, whose expression darkened as he stroked himself faster. Charles pulled out slowly, taking his time, before thrusting back into you forcefully, his hips colliding with yours. You moaned and whimpered as he set a rhythm, his hands roaming through your hair and up and down your back, murmuring praises and curses. You had finally caught your breath, and you knew it was time someone else got a little attention, so you lowered your head. Your tongue swirled around Erik's cock as his hand gripped your hair tightly. You took him into your mouth, managing just over half before pulling back, one hand moving to his base, the other steadying you on the bed. Matching Charles' pace, you bobbed up and down, drawing a growl of satisfaction from Erik that made your cunt clench, eliciting similar sounds from the man behind you. He pulled you into him by your hips, each thrust pure bliss, and you knew another climax was imminent if he just...

The telepath clearly sensed your thoughts, his hand reaching around to find your clit with precision. He rubbed tight circles in perfect rhythm, building the pressure once more. You could only moan weakly around the cock deep in your throat.

"She's close, Erik. I want to hear her," Charles said breathlessly. You could tell he was nearing his peak too as Erik lifted you off him by your hair, gripping tightly.

"Are you going to come for him, sweetheart?" Erik asked, his low tone making you whimper.

"Fuck... so close... I—" Your words dissolved into a moan as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Your eyes fluttered closed, and your head rolled into Erik's hands. Your body melted into blissful jelly, your core pulsing around Charles, and he followed shortly after, his hips faltering as he pressed deep into you. With a groan in your ear, he filled you, then bit your shoulder as you both rode out the waves of pleasure together.

You were a shuddering mess by the time he was done, barely holding yourself up as he pulled out of you with a deep sigh. He pressed soft kisses down your spine as Erik lifted your head up, lust etched on his face.

“You still up for me, sweetheart?” His fingers ran across your lips and cheek, and you nodded, still breathless.

I’m going to clean up, can I leave you two to it?You heard Charles in your head, and you sent over a yes, turning your head to kiss him goodbye.

“Shall I clean you up before I go, darling?” He asked, clearly having asked Erik the same thing, before standing and moving over to him, kissing him deeply.

“I think we’ll be ok.” Erik muttered, a mischievous look on his face. You smiled, forcing your weary legs to move towards him. He held you up by your hips as you heard the bathroom door close, a quick have fun thrown into your head. You kissed him softly, tenderly as you sank onto him, a sweet, low growl filling your mouth as your hips met his—a surprisingly easy feat despite his size thanks to what had been left behind by Charles. Your legs trembled, worn out, but you pressed your body close to Erik's, draping your head over his shoulder as he guided your movements with his hands. It was intimate - hands tangled in hair, soft, short breaths mingling with deep, grinding strokes that quickly brought you to the edge yet again. Panting and whining in his ear, you tried to tell him how close you were, but the sensation overtook you before you could form the words. Your nails dug into his back as pleasure washed over you. He whispered your name in a dark, husky tone, and then he was coming too, deep inside you. Somehow, he ground even deeper as you managed to lift your head just enough to kiss him.

You both stayed like that for a moment, catching your breath, bodies intertwined. Erik's hands traced lazy patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine. As your heartbeat slowly returned to normal, you lifted your head to meet his gaze, finding a mix of satisfaction and tenderness in his eyes. With a soft smile, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering on your cheek. You wanted to stay like this forever, feeling his heartbeat against your chest, but the moment was broken by the shower turning off. You blushed, climbing off him slowly, slumping next to him on the bed, feeling empty without him inside of you. You knew you would have to go and clean up soon, but you felt so comfortable with his arm draped around you, you didn’t want to move. He pulled the blanket from the bottom of the bed up, draping it over you as you waited for Charles, your eyes fluttering closed peacefully.

“Well, this is nice sight.” You smiled, opening your eyes to see him in the doorway to the bathroom, wet hair hanging over his face and towel wrapped around his waist.

“This is a pretty nice view from here too.” You replied. “Can I…?”

“Go ahead.” Erik muttered, planting one last kiss on your lips as you headed to the bathroom. You had just closed the door when you heard the bed creak, and they started talking.

“We got lucky with her, didn’t we?” Charles muttered, and you heard Erik sigh.

“Yes, I think we did.”

[bbyquokka]

slow

– in which it's yn's & jisung's first time together. jisung gets a little too in to it!

pairing | han jisung x fem reader

genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship , small mention of anxiety , jisung & reader are not inexperienced, its their first time being intimate together , masturbation (m) , dirty thoughts , orgasm denial , pet names , love bites , biting , grinding , jisung is rough at the start , safe word used , breast & nipple play , oral sex (m & f rec) , protected sex (p in v) , aftercare

words | 7.6k ~ ( 7,630 )

notes | it's been a while.. i still dont feel 100% on this site rn but i wanted to post a lil something! also, this was requested a hella long time ago! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

you never thought you could ever be so in love with a human being, yet here you are, smitten by none other than han jisung.

you’ve read and watched about love, soulmates, marriage, sex, all that type of stuff in movies and books. you never believed in the soulmate's thing or the ‘red string of fate’. you simply thought it was a gimmick to hook the audience into whatever media consumption they were consuming.

but alas, here you are. as you look at your lover and soak in every single precious detail of him, you slowly understand the meaning of soulmate's. your heart thumps every time you hear him speak, stomach fluttering every time you watch him fill his cheeks up with food like a squirrel.

you met jisung by chance. you both were attending a beginners painting course at your local community center. it was a chance for you to step out of your comfort zone and meet new people, possibly make new friends too.

you were nervous to begin with and possibly overwhelmed too. new faces, sounds and smells. you were overstimulated and the raging feeling of anxiety activated your fight-or-flight mode.

luckily for you, jisung noticed and instantly calmed you down. he spoke to you in a gentle and soft manner. he made corny jokes to help relax you and ease your mind. you only just met him and yet, you felt instantly connected to him – like you've known him your whole life.

he mentioned that the teacher, who's name you learnt was hyunjin, was a very good friend of his and that you didn't have anything to worry about. you explained that you're a terrible artist and know nothing at all to which jisung replied “me too! let's be terrible together, yeah?” 

that day was the most fun you've had in a long time. the anxiety you felt disappeared as soon as jisung approached you. you both created god awful paintings but they left you in tears of laughter and by the end of the session, you were sure you developed a six pack due to how sore your stomach muscles were hurting from laughing too much.

you could say that you both acted like two high schoolers goofing around in class. hyunjin did tell you and jisung off but he was just happy that his friend was able to find someone just like him.

you and jisung exchanged contact details. calling and texting each other 24/7. it started off small and sweet, telling each other about your day, telling one another to eat well and stay hydrated. sending pictures of things you both think the other would like.

you didn't realise or consider that your feelings for jisung were slowly becoming a lot more than ‘just friends.’ you couldn't explain it at the time. you couldn't understand why you felt so giddy every time you saw his name pop up on your phone screen. you didn't understand why you wanted to scream and shout every time he sent you a comfy selfie. you didn't understand why your heart raced and why you felt the urge to spend every single second of every hour with him and when he wasn't calling or texting you, that you felt sad and empty.

you simply put it down to the fact that you've never had a close friend before, especially of the opposite sex. you mistook your feelings for love as that of excitement and joy.

however, it wasn't until you saw a picture of him with someone else on a night out, did you finally understand.

the jealousy you felt that night turned you bitter and cold. it turned you into something that you didn't recognise within yourself. you did act a little distant towards him the next day and poor jisung didn't have a clue as to why.

one thing about jisung that you've learnt since knowing him, is that he is very good at getting you to talk about things you don't want to.

“do you think the reason you feel like this could be related to something much more? something you haven't quite figured out yet.”

as soon as jisung sent those messages to you, did you reflect and come to terms that you have fallen in love with your best friend. once that was evident, you had a whole new problem.

what if jisung doesn't feel the same as you? what if it affects the friendship between you both?

with so many questions rushing in your mind, you unintentionally ghosted jisung and he noticed.

he noticed the dry messages. the one liners. he noticed that you didn't seem all too interested anymore. yeah, it filled him up with anxiety because he wondered if he'd done anything or said anything to upset you.

instead of letting his mind run away with negative thoughts, he made the bold decision to go to your apartment and talk it out.

it was a day you'd never forget. it was a day that started off angsty and slowly turned into something magical.

you talked with each other and you confessed through your tears. you sobbed and sobbed, worry shaking your entire existence. jisung hugged you tight, his scent calmed your nerves. once calm, did he too also confess and that was the beginning of something you both cherish to this day.

you both agreed to start of slow. neither of you are inexperienced however, going from being ‘just friends’ to boyfriend girlfriend is a whole new feeling.

you're seeing each other in a new light, learning new things about one another. everything is so different, everything feels different. it feels like your relationship with jisung is starting all over again. what you thought you knew about him, turns out to be completely different.

you went on many dates and outings. you held hands multiple times and cuddled a lot. you both even exchanged sweet pecks on the cheeks before kissing each other. however, you both never did anything intimate with one another.

not because you weren't ready or inexperienced, it's a simple matter of the timing doesn't feel right. you (and jisung) both want to be with each other more, spend more time with one another and learn about each other before taking that massive (and vulnerable) step in the relationship.

not one of you pestered or pressured the other about it. it's as if you both silently just knew. at first you were a little anxious about not having sex with him right away and jisung felt the same, however, as time went on and you both started to find comfort in each other as well as understand one another via social/physical cues, did the anxieties slowly disappear.

that's not to say that you don't feel some kind of lust for him. jisung is exactly the same, thinking and feeling like you. some days he wishes he could just ravish you. when you look that extra gorgeous or do something cute that makes his heart skip, he wishes he could just drag you back to his place and indulge in you.

there have been many times that he's masturbated over you. date nights he would find himself going home, straight to his bedroom and his fist around his throbbing cock. his mind plagued with dirty thoughts of you, imagining you in your date attire.

some nights he wants to ruin you. his hand funnelling for his phone as his other is wrapped around his cock and squeezing tightly to deny himself of his orgasm. it hurts and the longer he waits, the more it hurts him but it makes his toes curl and body shakes with excitement.

he doesn't know how long he can go on like this. he knows patience is a virtue but just everything about you is driving him insane. the more time goes on, the more he becomes impatient. the more it builds and builds until it feels like he is suffocating with an intense amount of lust.

luckily for him, he won't have to wait that long.

“thank you for tonight, sungie.” you smile as you stand on the doorstep of your home. jisung hums softly, his hands in his suit pants pockets.

“my pleasure. i hope you enjoyed the meal.”

“i enjoy your company more than anything.” you feel your cheeks heat up slowly. the tips of jisung's ears slowly turn red at your cute confession.

“i – ahm – i shall bid you goodnight then, darling.” as he turns on his heels, he is abruptly stopped by you grabbing his wrist. he looks up at you, a look of confusion on his face, his brows furrowed together.

“what’s the mat–”

“stay the night.” you blurt out in one sentence. 

his heart stops beating for a second. your cheeks pink as the grip on his wrist is tight. heat rushes down south and his mouth becomes dry. 

“darling, what are you trying to say? do you know what will happen if i stay the night?” he takes your hand gently from his wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours as he walks close to you. 

you become fixated on him and your senses become heightened. your throat becomes dry as jisung holds your hand whilst his other wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

you become hyper aware of the situation; of him! you swallow thickly, jisung's plump lips curled up at the corners in a smirk as they glisten from his saliva. 

“you are aware, correct?” he whispers. his voice is husk and his breath fans against your lips. you nod slowly, unable to speak. you worry that jisung would be able to hear your racing heartbeat. his cologne tickling your nostrils and intoxicating you. 

you've never been this close to him before. you can see every single detail of his skin up close and personal. his grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he shakily lets out a slow breath.

he brings the back of your hand to his lips, pressing them against your skin as he peers up at you through his lashes. you feel warmth flooding your body, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“god you're so beautiful.” he mumbles before kissing each of your fingers individually. “do you want to, darling?”

“i–” you stumble over your words.

“tell me. let me hear your pretty voice.” his hand escapes your waist to be pressed against your flush cheek. you instantly lean into his palm, feeling yourself be swayed by his charms.

“i-i want you, ji.” you whisper as your eyes flutter close. with a small huff, you feel jisung leaning closer to you and within a second, his soft lips are against yours in a slow and rhythmic kiss.

it's different. it feels different. it's not a simple peck or a good night kiss. it's a kiss that is filled with built up fiery passion. jisung has finally been given the go ahead and he can feel it all overflowing and seeping out.

he grips your hand, eyes fluttering closed as his brows scrunch together. you tilt your head to the side a little, lips locking and caressing one another. he presses his body against yours, your back hitting your door which causes jisung to snake his arms around your back and hold you firmly in his arms.

your own arms wrap around his neck, keeping him close to you as possible. the way jisung is kissing you is making you feel lightheaded and deprived of oxygen – but you don't want to escape from his grasp.

the cold night air fans against your hot cheeks, failing to bring down your body temperature. you feel the tip of his tongue glide along your bottom lip, silently pleading for permission. you grant it by parting your lips and letting your own tongue caress with his.

your body fills with tingles of excitement, your abdomen fluttering. jisung's suit pants are starting to feel a little tight. he can feel himself slowly melt into you, his mind turning foggy. he's waited all this time to taste you and now he finally has you, he doesn't want to escape and let you go.

“taste so sweet.” he mumbles for a split second to allow some air to resume into his lungs. you don't have a chance to reply because his lips are instantly back on yours, tongue caressing and colliding with yours. melting at the touch.

your heart thumps against your chest so loudly, you can hear it in your ears. your body trembles with excitement but also another feeling that you can't quite put your finger on.

you hear jisung fumbling behind you, his hand coming into contact with the cold door handle. with his lips still locked onto you, he opens the door and slowly pushes you inside. once inside, he kicks the door closed with his foot as you both stumble whilst taking off your shoes.

you're the first to pull away from his lips much to his dismay. you look at the man that stands before you and notice that he looks and feels different. he no longer feels soft and gentle. his eyes are hazy but darkened with hunger and lust. his cheeks are pink and lips swollen and glistening with saliva. you see his chest rising up and down with every breath and his neat hair now dishevelled.

“where?” his words dripped with a hint of impatience. you swallow a little and chew your lip gently.

“we can go to my room?” you press your lips together in a thin line. you're suddenly aware that jisung is in your home, in your space and it's making you nervous as hell! jisung notices you trembling a little so he places one hand on your shoulder whilst the other is used to lift your chin up gently so you're looking at him.

“are you sure?” his voice is now soft and gentle, the same softness you've grown accustomed too. “we don't ha–”

“i want to!” you blurt out causing jisung to widen his eyes slightly before chuckling to himself. “just give me a few seconds. i need to go to the restroom.”

he gives you a gentle smile and nods. as you go to the restroom, you tell jisung the directions to your bedroom in case he wants to sit and wait and whilst he does, he takes his time looking around your place.

he makes a mental note how it's just like you. how every piece of decoration resembles you in one way or another. he walks to your bedroom, cautiously sitting on your bed as he waits for you.

as he waits, he suddenly becomes hyper aware of where he is. he can smell you. the same lavender scent that emits from your clothing is now tickling his nostrils. his lips part as he lets out small, shaky puffs of air.

“fuck.. this is bad.” he mumbles as he unbuttons the first few buttons of his dress shirt. his body temperature skyrocketing, skin glistening in sweat as your scent continues to hug him deliciously.

meanwhile, you're in the restroom giving yourself a pep-talk. the coolness of the ceramic sink feels soothing against your hot palms.

you're nervous. you've never been this nervous before. it feels like you could throw up. you want to run and hide but the desire you have for him is too strong. you want him and he wants you, it's just because it's all new that you feel like this.

however, you can't shake that hungry look from jisung's eyes away from your mind. he looked like an animal, ready to pounce on you at any second. 

you take a few deep breaths in and slowly release before fixing your hair. “you got this yn.” you mumble to your reflection before walking out of the restroom into the bedroom.

jisung looks up at you and gives you a grin. his legs are spread, hair pushed back with the buttons of his dress shirt still open, giving you a glimpse of his honey smooth skin you've been dying to caress.

he pats his inner thigh, silently beckoning you forward. like a puppet on a string, you feel yourself being pulled towards him. you stand between his legs, his hands on your waist gently as he strokes it with his thumb.

you glance at him, soaking in how beautiful and flush he looks. he tilts his head to the side, his bangs covering his eyes and his lips curl into a smirk as he sees your eyes flicker from his face to his crotch.

“like what you see?” 

your eyes widen and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. your brain melts and your ability to speak fails. words lodged in your throat and all you can muster is broken sentences.

jisung laughs at your flustered state, pulling you onto his lap. he pulls you flush on his crotch, chest to chest. his arms wrapping around your back and holding you close and he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

the tips of his hair tickle your cheeks. hot, shaky breaths fanning against your skin as you feel your clothing being bundled up into jisung's hands.

“fuck, i’m in trouble. you’re too cute.” you giggle, your fingers caressing his soft hair. the tips of your fingers rake against his scalp and jisung closes his eyes slowly. his lips brush against the skin of your neck before being pressed against it. 

he starts off slow and gentle at first, peppering and sucking gently. but that soon fades.

you feel his teeth graze against your skin and your breath hitches in your throat. you bite your bottom lip gently before whimpering a little as his teeth dig into your neck. you squeeze your eyes shut, enduring the stinging sensation as you hold your breath. 

his kissing and sucking quickly becomes rough and painful. you grip onto jisung as his hands trail down your back to hold your waist. he grips onto you, moving your hips back and forth on his crotch.

when he pulls away from your neck, do you realise exactly what is happening and why you feel so anxious.

this isn't your first time but with how rough jisung is being is making you feel scared. the kind, gentle man you're so accustomed to is nowhere to be seen. his eyes are darkened, half-lidded. kiss bitten and swollen lips glistening in saliva.

his jaw clenches as he grips onto you forcefully. his mind has fogged over and he is purely chasing his own high. his body is being driven by the intense lust and hunger that had been building for months.

he's a different person and it's scaring you.

“h-hey. why don't we take i–” your attempt at trying to calm him down and bring him back to you cut short due to jisung throwing you onto the bed.

your back is hit with the bouncy mattress, the springs squeaking from impact. you watch jisung kneel between your legs, hands fumbling with the rest of the buttons of his shirt before it's quickly discarded to the side leaving him in nothing but his dress pants.

you wish you could enjoy the beautiful sight before you but you simply can't. you've seen jisung's body numerous times via gym or thirst selfies, seeing it in the flesh and glistening in a thin layer of sweat is a different experience and you so wish you could enjoy it.

“ji–” your eyes widen as he leans down and kisses you. it's not the same as before, it's rough. all teeth and tongues with no coordination. you start to panic, palms becoming sweaty and your heart beating against your chest.

this isn't how you imagined your first time to be with jisung. this isn’t what you wanted. you want your passionate, gentle and loving jisung back.

“v-volcano!” you sob. as if a switch has suddenly been switched inside of him, he is fast to get off you. his eyes widen in pure shock at the sight before him. you chew your bottom lip gently, unable to stop a few tears from trickling down your cheeks.

“oh my god. oh no. yn, oh fuck. i’m so sorry!” he reaches down shakily and presses his palm against your cheek. you lean in as you sniffle.

“it’s ok.” you whisper.

“no!” his sudden loud tone of voice makes you jump a little. “it’s not ok. i lost myself in the moment and i made you cry. fuck, i’m an idiot..”

“hey, it's ok.”

“it's not ok yn. i didn't mean to scare you. i've been wanting you for so long that when i finally got you, i lost sight of everything and in the process hurt and scared you.” his voice cracking and shaking. his brown, boba eyes filling with tears.

you sit up and kiss his cheek gently. your lips are met with the salty flavour of his tears. he wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you into his chest as he sobs.

“i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry. this wasn't how i planned this. fuck i’m so stupid!” he babbles. you hush him softly, stroking his hair slowly. you make a mental note of how he currently reminds you of a lost child, babbling and crying till their red in the face and snotty.

“i’m ok jisung. it did scare me. i saw a side to you that i’ve never seen before and it frightened me but you stopped when i used the safe word and that counts for something.”

“really?” he mumbles against your neck which is currently wet with tears.

“really. it'd be different if you carried on but you didn't. don't beat yourself up about this. this is our first time together.” you pull away slowly, cupping his cheeks. “we’re still learning about one another, darling. intimacy is a big big step in a relationship. it's probably one where we're at our most vulnerable.”

jisung simply nods and looks down, chin into chest as his lips turn into a pout. a few stray tears falling down his cheeks as he sniffles.

he really is like a child you say to yourself mentally before giggling.

“i'm sorry.” he whispers before looking up at you. “can we start all over again?”

you smile softly at him and nod. he leans on, tilting his head to the side and eyes slowly closing as your lips meet again. he is slow, tender and so gentle with you. it sparks butterflies in your stomach and for you to melt and relax into him.

he gently pushes you down so you're resting on your back, the kiss not being broken once. you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close to you. his fingers dance along your jawline and down your neck, trailing down to your breasts when he gently cups them through the fabric of your clothing.

your breath hitches a little in your throat. he gently massages your breast, kneading it in the palm of his hand. you gasp a little and groan, your legs parting a little bit more to allow more space for jisung to situate himself in.

his hand slowly trails up your stomach from under your clothing. his soft fingers dance along your skin like delicate pixie feet. it leaves a trail of heat and butterflies behind making you longing for more.

jisung licks your lips slowly and is pleased to feel them slowly part. the two wet muscles meet in the middle when they collide, hug and caress. his delicate fingers reach to your breast where he presses his palm on the flesh and wraps his fingers around it gently.

he squeezes your breast a few times, kneading and rolling it slowly. he swallows every gasp and soft moan that falls past your lips.

“god.” he mumbles as he pulls away to bury his face into the crook of your neck. “you sound so beautiful.” 

“i do?” 

“mhm.” jisung's fingers brush over your hardened nipple, causing you to moan softly in shock at the sudden sensation and sensitivity. “see? i might become addicted.”

you flush at his words, your stomach fluttering and heartbeat skipping beats. you worry with how close jisung is to you, that he'd be able to hear and feel how erratic your heart is.

he presses his lips against your neck, kissing it tenderly and giving gentle sucks. his fingers work on your breast whilst you're unsure on what to do with your own. jisung notices this.

“it’s ok. you can touch me.” he chuckles against your neck. you flush red with embarrassment.

“i-i know! i just don't know where..”

“you can caress me. hold me. tangle your fingers in my hair. whatever feels natural, yn.” he pulls away from your neck to kneel up. his hand is off your breast as he takes your hand gently by the wrist. he brings your hand to his lips, eyes on you as he kisses your fingers delicately. “i won't break.”

you watch him kiss your fingers before kissing the back of your hand. then, he takes your wrist gently, guiding it to his cheek. he presses your palm against his flush skin as he leans in, his own hand pressed against the back of yours to keep your hand there.

“it’s ok to touch me, yn. touch me as much as you like. i've been dying for your touch so please, indulge in me. be greedy.” he whispers. 

you can't help the onslaught of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. it feels like they're travelling throughout your whole body, hugging your veins, nerves and tips of your fingers and toes. your breathing becomes shallow and jisung becomes the only thing you see.

everything turns blurry and time passes by slowly as you look at the man that is smitten for you. this love you feel from him, the love that's radiating and seeping from his pores is more than you thought.

it's suffocating but it's good. you want to drown in his love, drown in his warmth. you want to be entangled with him and have him be the only person you think and feel. 

you've noticed it for a while. noticed how hot he makes you feel. how his touch makes your skin burn. how his kisses linger on your skin. your lips automatically turned up in a smile whenever you see his name pop up on your screen. you're always thinking of him and you miss him when he isn't with you. you want to lock him up and never share him with anyone else because you'll get jealous. you want him by your side for eternity.

he is your life, your soul. your present and your future.

“i love you.” 

jisung looks at you, his eyes slowly widening. you haven't registered what you've just said, feeling like you're in a haze.

“say that again.” 

“huh?” you blink, coming back to reality.

“do you mean it? like, truly?” 

“mean what?”

“you said… you said you love me.” your eyes widen as you open and close your mouth like a goldfish, words stuck in your throat.

“i… i…uhm..”

“because–” he cups your cheeks gently. his eyes sparkling and wet as they fill with tears. “because i love you too. so fucking much.” 

your own eyes fill with tears as you watch tears trickle down jisung's cheeks. you laugh softly, stroking them away with your thumb.

“yes. i mean it, ji. i love you.”

“fuck.” he sobs before kissing you sweetly. you laugh in the kiss before kissing his tears away.

“yn.” he mumbles. you hum as a response. “i’m really fuckin' hard.. it hurts..” you press your lips together and glance down.

true to his word you can see a bulge in his suit pants. the fabric hugs him nicely, giving you a brief idea of his size and girth. he looks thick and long.

“please yn.. please do something. i can't bear it no more.” his voice is husk and dripping with lust. it tickles your ears and makes you shake with adrenaline.

you reach down and unbutton his pants, pulling the zip down. it gives him a small sense of relief but it's not enough. he lets out a small sigh before raising up a little on his knees to allow you to pull his pants down.

you do so with shaky hands, pulling them down to his thighs. jisung watches you stare at his crotch, watching you soak in all the information you have right in front of you.

his grey boxer shorts hugging his lower half tightly, the material stretching a little due to his bulge. it hugs him, feeling too snug to be comfortable. a wet patch where his tip is resting turning the fabric a darker grey.

“baby.. you're embarrassing me.” you look up to see jisung looking to the side, his bottom lip being chewed and his cheeks pink.

“sorry! it's just..” you trail off. jisung laughs softly and cups your cheeks.

“it’s ok. i understand.” he kisses your forehead gently. his muscles twitch and jerk as he feels your fingers come into contact with his sides.

you hook your fingers under the waistband of his shorts and slowly pull them down. you both hold your breath, time feeling like it's slowed down. you reveal his happy trail, his neatly trimmed hair until finally, his penis bounces free from its restraints.

jisung sighs heavily in relief, his eyes closing. you, on the other hand, stare at him with your mouth wide open. your hands have now bundled up the fabric of his shorts as you swallow and lick your lips.

you knew he was packing, that was evident in the way you could see it in jeans, pants and even his underwear – but you didn't think he'd be this big.

“holy. you're big.” you say without giving it a second thought. jisung stutters and covers his face with his hands, peering at you through the gap of his fingers.

“not sure if that's a compliment or not but, thank you.” 

“it's a compliment.” you whisper before leaning down.

his hips buck and muscles twitch. you haven't done anything but your breath fanning against his hot skin makes him throb and anticipate. you lick your lips and use the tip of your tongue to lick his tip.

“f-fuck.” he instantly moans. your actions are miniscule but it feels so much more than what it is. maybe it's because he's wanted this for so long or maybe it's because you both confessed and said i love you that makes it feel the way it does.

you press your tongue flat against his tip. your taste buds are met with a salty flavour from his pre-cum. you wrap one hand around the base of his penis as you slowly start to become more confident. you stroke him slowly, rotating your wrist a few times as you wrap your lips around his tip.

he feels hot – so so hot. jisung feels like his skin is burning. he feels like he is drowning in molten lava. he pants as he watches you, his eyes half-lidded and his teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

“hot.” he pants. he reaches down to bury his fingers in your hair. “ahh, fuck..” his head tilts to the side as you bob your head in time with your hand, giving his penis equal stimulation from both your hand and mouth.

you flatten your tongue to stoke the underside of him. you can feel the bumps from his veins against your palm. you hollow out your cheeks and breath through your nose the best you can. the corners of your mouth start to stretch and sting due to them splitting slightly. your mouth becomes accumulated with saliva which makes it easier for you to take more of him.

“a-ah.. fuck, yes. that's it. god, your mouth is so warm and feels so good.”

his praises and soft moans hug your ears. the deep octa waves of his voice send shivers down your spine and encourage you to be more brave. your eyes flutter shut as you focus all your attention on pleasuring jisung. 

he slowly unravels right before you. a thin sheen of sweat soaking his body as his penis throbs and twitches. he gently tugs on your hair, his hips bucking several times. soft whimpers and moans leave his swollen and parted lips as he slowly becomes dizzy with heat and lust.

jisung reaches down and gently pushes you away from him. you look up at him with a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed together. he strokes your saliva coated lips with his thumb before speaking.

“you're going to make me cum and i don't want to cum just get.” 

you laugh softly but it's quick to become muffled and swallowed by jisung kissing your lips slowly and passionately. you only pull away from a brief second to allow him to undress you.

once stripped of your clothing, you're left in your underwear. just like you did, jisung is currently staring at your body. his mouth agape and eyes filling with love and admiration as he soaks in every single detail of your body.

you become aware of his eyes and feel somewhat violated by his piercing gaze. you cross your arms across your breasts and stomach, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable.

“hey, don't do that.” he whispers softly to you as he gently pries away your arms.

“but it's embarrassing.” you mumble.

“but you're so gorgeous, yn.” you remain silent. you don't know how to respond. he's always showered you with compliments and love, forever telling you how beautiful and pretty you are but it feels different this time and it's making you feel embarrassed and shy.

your thoughts are disrupted by the feeling of jisung kissing your stomach. you watch him, tangling your fingers in his hair. he reaches up and hooks a finger underneath your bra strap as if he's silently asking.

you nod slowly. he grins, showing his teeth and gums. he takes off your bra and discards it with the rest of the clothing. his head dips low and you close your eyes, whimpering as you feel his lips peppering kissing on your breasts.

“so pretty.” he mumbles between each kiss. your hard nipple is caught between his teeth, lips sucking and tongue licking the sensitive nub.

you chew your bottom lip to suppress the moans that are building in the back of your throat. you tremble a little and let out a small pant. jisung notices and releases your nipple to kiss your neck softly and slowly.

“don't hold back your voice. let me hear your pretty moans.”

tingles are being left behind from where jisung has kissed your skin. heat pools in the pit of your stomach and much to jisung's delight, you let go of the moan that had been building in the back of your throat.

“see. told you your moans sound pretty.” his hot breath fanning against your hard nipple before his tongue swipes over it slowly. it gets covered in saliva and slowly becomes sore and sensitive.

the tips of your fingers and toes feel tingly. you feel restless and needy. you want him to hurry up and touch you but at the same time, you want to indulge and embrace the sweet yet tender moment.

he moves from your breast and kisses between them, kissing, sucking and licking your stomach whilst his hair tickles your skin. he stops just above the waistband of your underwear, eyes flicking up to meet your hungry gaze.

you nod and give him the go ahead. he licks his lips and slowly pulls down your underwear, discarding them on the floor. you swallow, feeling nervous and embarrassed now that you're on full display for jisung to see.

he shuffles between your legs, kissing your inner thigh slowly as well as sucking it. he squeezes your soft flesh as he looks at you and keeps eye contact with you. you bite your bottom lip, loving this new side to him. your once innocent looking skin now tainted with purple love bites and goosebumps.

using the tip of his middle finger, he trails it up and down your inner thigh slowly. he looks at your pussy, humming softly as the sight of your soaked folds and swollen clit.

“all this for me?” he whispers as he drags his middle finger to your entrance and gently scoops some of your slick onto it. you nod slowly, unable to speak with how embarrassed you feel. “cute.” he mumbles before licking his finger clean.

he leans down and in, pressing his tongue flat against your neglected bud. your muscles twitch and you gasp as electric like tingles shoot up and down your spine. jisung hums at your reaction, swiping his tongue along your clit.

“j-jisun.. aah!” your eyes flutter close as you press your head onto the pillows. the tip of jisung's tongue is now swirling around your bud, fingers teasing your entrance slowly. he gently sucks on your clit before kitten licking it and moaning softly.

he hooks his arms under your legs, pulling you flush against his face. his tongue slips down to your entrance where he laps at your slick, moaning at the taste and rutting against the mattress. he huffs occasionally, hot breathes fanning against your entrance.

“so good.” he mumbles. you go to reply but a moan replaces your words due to jisung slowly pushing his tongue into your entrance. your warmth encapsulates his tongue, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. he pushes and pulls his tongue in and out whilst his nimble fingers work on stimulating your clit.

“mhm, fuck. ji don't stop, please.” you moan as you reach down and grab his hair on your hands. you gently tug as your back arches a little. jisung feels your walls flutter on his tongue, your muscles twitching with the stimulation.

your folds get coated in slick and saliva along with jisung's lips and chin. he pulls away for a brief second to catch his breath before resuming back to the task at hand. jisung is thrusting into the mattress, the roughness of the sheets rubbing against his length that's being pressed against his stomach and coating it in his pre-cum.

you feel that all too familiar heat and knot in the pit of your stomach. you gasp and moan, tugging at his hair by the roots. your eyes flutter open and you look up at him as he pulls away, your lips forming a pout.

“i want to carry on, believe me baby but–” he kneels up and between your legs. he looks down and bites his lip. you follow his gaze and press your lips together in a thin line from how hard he is. “it’s painful. i need to be inside of you.”

“o-oh.” you blush. “then, hurry up because i want you.” 

“do you have any protection?” you nod and point to the side drawer by your bed. jisung reaches over you and you take this opportunity to lean up and kiss his neck. jisung grunts and shivers, his lips parting slightly as you gently bite and lick his skin.

“baby.. you're not helping.” 

“shh, just focus on getting a condom.” you purr. jisung's hands fumble around, struggling to open the drawer. when he does, he is met several packs of condoms, lube and some toys.

“i see you're fully stocked up.” he says with a smirk, grabbing a condom and closing the drawer. you feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“there for a friend.” you mumble, averting his gaze. jisung laughs as he opens the condom.

“riiiight, a friend.” 

“shut up.” you whine. “it's better to be prepared.”

“oh i know. that's what i love about you, baby.” you watch him roll the rubber on his length and hold your waist, pulling you closer to him. “ready?”

“i’m ready.”

jisung nods and holds the base of his penis. he guides it to your entrance, rubbing his tip against it and between your folds before slowly pushing in. you both hiss for different reasons.

for him, the warmth and tightness is delicious. you feel so comfy and hot that the heat is spreading throughout his entire body and replacing the blood in his veins with molten lava. he feels his cheeks becoming hot, his palms sweaty and brain feeling like it's melting.

for you, the pain from the stretch burns. you know it'll subside once you get used to him but his thickness is currently the issue. he is being careful and content, going ever so slow for you. he has a little under half his length in and you already feel full.

“it’s not all of it but you're still so tight so we shall go from here.” jisung manages to say through his laboured breaths. he gives you a few minutes to adjust, his hands gripping onto you as he painfully waits.

you give him a nod that tells him it's ok. he starts of slowly, the burn still there but pleasure is soon quick to override it. you reach down and hold onto his wrists as he slowly picks up the tempo. 

his head tilts to the side and his lips part slightly. soft moans and grunts leave his lips. you hold onto him, your body rocking with each thrust of his hips.

“aah fuck. you feel even better than i imagined.” he pants.

“y-you too. please go a little faster and harder.” jisung nods and starts to thrust harder and faster. your back arches as pleasure hugs your body tightly, making you feel like you're suffocating. moans being lodged in your throat.

jisung leans over you, resting on his forearms that are beside your head. the new position allows him to push a little bit of his length deeper inside you but his hips slow down. his movements are long, slow and sensual. 

the ridges of his cock rub your gummy walls, reaching places that have never been touched before. jisung leans down, burying his head into the crook of your neck as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“this feels too good.” his voice is hoarse and low due to his throat being dry from panting. his hair sticks to his skin, the tips coated in sweat as his body glistens.

“it does. you're so deep, ji. please don't stop.” you whisper in his ear, moaning a few times.

“fuck.. you sound so fucking pretty moaning my name. is it even possible to become even more addicted to you?” he kisses your neck slowly and gently. 

your gummy walls tighten around him. both of you reaching your peaks. denying yourselves from previous orgasms meant that it's been building and building up to this point.

“i can't..” you stutter, nail digging into his back.

“me too.. i think i’m at my limit.” you whimper and nod as a response. a few more thrusts and you both orgasm together. your walls flutter around him whilst he twitches and empties into the condom.

you both pant heavily, exhaustion settling in. jisung's arms shake a little, threatening to give up and collapse on top of you. using the remaining strength he has, he pushes himself up and pulls out slowly, taking off the condom, tying and discarding it.

you spread out on the bed, eyes slowly closing. jisung laughs and kisses your forehead gently. he rushes to the bathroom, running a warm bubble bath for you both.

he gently scoops you up in his arms, placing you in the tub before settling behind you. after washing yourselves, you both take a few minutes to relax. you lean into his chest, listening and feeling his steady heartbeat.

“i’m sorry about before..” he mumbles as he strokes your hair slowly. “i became too excited and lost myself in the moment.”

“it’s ok. all's forgiven.” you grin, looking up at him. your grin falters as you look at him. his head dipped low, chin tucked into his chest. his boba eyes glistening as he chews his bottom lip. “hey, it's ok.” 

you spin around to face him in the tub, kneeling uncomfortable in the small tub. you cup his damp cheeks gently, water droplets falling from the tips of his hair. he looks at you and pouts softly.

“but i sca–” you press your lips against his to silence him. his eyes widen a little but he is quick to kiss back.

“i said it's ok. you stopped and you snapped out of it pretty quickly. don't beat yourself up about it, baby. besides–” you push his hair back gently “i enjoyed my first time with you.”

“me too.” his cheeks flush pink, whether from him feeling shy or the humidity of the bathroom. “i’d love to do it with you again.”

“the feelings mutual.” you giggle before kissing his forehead. “now c’mon, let's get to bed. it's been a long night and i’m exhausted.”

jisung agrees and gets out of the tub with you. you both dry yourselves off and get ready for bed. jisung suddenly scoops you up in his arms which causes you to squeal and laugh. he walks to the bed, gently placing you down.

you snuggle into the duvet, watching jisung get in beside you. he faces you, holding your hand gently.

“i love you, yn. i love you so much.” he plays with your fingers as he whispers those sweet and delicate words to you. your heart flutters and skips beats, time freezing for nth time.

“i love you too, ji. forever and always.” 

[afterglowkatie]

lost | k.c.c.

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 2.7k | after a few days of feeling lost, confused and being distracted at training, kyra decides to confide in lia about her feelings for you

ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of the pair of pests universe. thank you for being so patient with me on this part! i know it's taken a while but i'm still thankful for all the support :)

‘Kyra, the goals over there. Maybe we need to put some big arrows pointing towards it for you,’ Alessia laughed, watching Kyra miss the goals yet again. None of her shots today at training made it anywhere near the goal, which ignited the harmless comments from some of her teammates.

‘Maybe if you weren’t daydreaming about a certain Catley then you’d get one,’ 

‘You’d think you’d be hitting the back of the net constantly if you wanted to impress her,’ 

Kyra’s head shot around after the comments from her teammates, making sure neither you or Steph were anywhere within earshot. She really didn’t want you or Steph to hear the teasing comments. The comments weren’t unusual. There had always been the odd comment every now and then. But since realising and accepting her feelings for you, the teasing comments felt like they had intensified. Bordering on overwhelming, since Kyra’s head was everywhere but at training.

It had only been a few days since the other night when Kyra had the realisation, but it had been messing with her head a little bit. The days at training Kyra was noticeably different. Nothing was going right for her. Her mind, a million miles away. You were the only thing on her mind. She was confused and distracted. 

One part of her didn’t want to ever risk changing your friendship by confessing her feelings for you. She didn’t ever want to lose you, you helped Kyra more than you would ever know. Kyra was scared that you would distance yourself from her if she ever said anything.

But another part of her knew that eventually she wouldn’t be able to keep pretending that she didn’t have feelings for you. Kyra knew that one day she would have to confess her feelings for you and face a possible rejection or leave your life without ever knowing if there was a possibility that you could like her back. 

Though Kyra felt foolish everytime she thought you might feel the same. Thinking that she was getting ahead of herself and trying to see something that wasn’t there just because it’s what she wanted. It would be the ideal situation, but she knows to keep her hopes low. Besides, things like that only ever seem to happen in the movies, and this wasn’t a movie.

It was a lot for Kyra. Lia could see that. She had always kept an eye on Kyra, ever since she joined arsenal. Making sure to try to create an environment where the younger girl might feel safe and supported no matter what was going on, ‘Hey are you alright?’ Lia took the opportunity while they were resting on the side watching another group of girls take over the drill they were running through.

Kyra was sitting on a ball sipping on water when she felt Lia’s hand on her shoulder and the question directed at her, ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ Lia saw the way Kyra looked around before answering. Like she was seeing who was around before she replied. She could feel how tense Kyra was just by the touch on her shoulder.

‘Come on, partner with me,’ Kyra smiled softly and followed Lia. The further the two went from the main group the more Kyra visibly relaxed. Lia and Kyra continued doing partner drills, joking around and chatting amongst themselves. The distraction was welcome by Kyra, since Lia came over she’d only been focused on training and hadn’t let her mind wander back to you or anything that was overwhelming her mind earlier. It wasn’t a complete fix but the temporary distraction was nice for a bit. Even though it had only been a few days Kyra was slowly starting to feel like she was losing her mind.

‘Did you want to come over?’ Kyra hesitated a little. She wasn’t sure if any of the other girls would be around, not knowing if she could handle being around a lot of people right now, ‘It can just be the two of us. No pressure, you just seem like you need some time away from everyone where it’s more quiet,’ Lia quickly added when she noticed Kyra’s hesitation.

Kyra thought it over for a minute. She was also supposed to hang out with you again, but honestly Kyra could use this to help her, maybe help to settle her thoughts. She felt that maybe she could trust Lia with her thoughts and feelings, and maybe Lia might have some advice for the younger one, ‘Yeah I’d like that. I just need to sort something out and then I’ll be over, thank you Lia,’

Lia pulled Kyra into a hug, ‘You don’t need to thank me. It’s what friends are for, I’ll always be there for you,’

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

You were in the locker room getting changed after training, headphones on trying to decompress after the session today, when you felt a familiar pair of hands rest on your waist and head lay on your shoulder. 

You smiled and reached up to take off your headphones, ‘Hi Ky,’ Your voice was just above a whisper. Though your smile fell a bit when you turned your head to look at her. Kyra had a small smile on her lips but you could tell something wasn’t right. Kyra’s smile seemed slightly forced, like something wasn’t quite right but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. She didn’t seem upset or anything, Kyra just seemed off in a way you couldn’t describe. 

‘Hey,’ Kyra whispered back, she somehow always made rooms full of people feel like it was just the two of you, ‘Somethings come up, can we rain check?’ Kyra pouted slightly, feeling bad for cancelling on the plans the two of you had. 

Your eyes glanced down towards Kyra’s lips where you noticed the little pout she was giving you. You thought it was cute. Looking away biting your lip slightly before glancing back at Kyra, trying not to let your eyes drift again and giving her a small reassuring smile, ‘Yeah of course Ky. Is everything okay? You can always tell me anything, you know that?’

You felt Kyra cuddle into you more, her arms fully wrapping around your waist, ‘Thank you, but it’s nothing for you to worry about,’ You felt Kyra’s breath against your neck with each word she spoke. Your heart was racing a bit more than usual, your hand soothingly rubbing along her lower arm that was around you, ‘You’re too sweet to me,’ You heard Kyra sigh, barely above a whisper. You felt your cheeks heat up but chose to not comment on the last bit she said. 

‘I’ll see you tomorrow the girls are all going out, you’re still coming?’ You were hopeful that whatever was going on with Kyra wasn’t impacting her enough to miss out on a night out with you and the girls. Specifically, you didn’t want to miss out on spending a night with Kyra. 

‘Yeah, I wouldn’t miss out on that,’ Kyra knew she had to let go of you at some point, but being around you made her feel better. You help make all her problems feel so far away. You just make Kyra feel better, like nothing else matters in the moment, ‘Wouldn’t miss out on a night with you. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Kyra mumbled out quickly. Without hesitation, without thinking, Kyra’s lips were on your cheek, giving you a small kiss before pulling away. 

For the both of you it felt like a natural reaction, like something Kyra had done a million times before. It wasn’t something completely unusual for your friendship but it felt different. You stayed in place even while Kyra had left grabbing her things on her way out. 

‘Y’know might want to be a bit more careful,’ Katie’s voice next to you brought you back to reality, leaving behind any thoughts you were having about your interaction with Kyra. Confused by Katie’s comment, you turned your head towards her furrowing your eyebrows, ‘You and Kyra, unless you’re gonna tell Steph,’ 

‘Tell Steph what?’ Your voice was low and if any one else was listening they would be able to hear a slight panic in your tone, ‘We’re best friends, Steph knows that. That’s all,’ You raised your eyebrow at Katie before continuing to pack away your things.

‘Okay, sure,’ You rolled your eyes, you didn’t even need to see her face to know she was smirking, ‘Just saying, no one would care. We just want the best for everyone here, even the pests,’ Katie patted your back, a slight rub while you smiled at her comment, a slight laugh slipping past your lips.

‘I’m happy Kyra’s my best friend,’ Katie gave you a nod, you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more so than anyone else. But there was nothing anyone could do to push along the progress, you had to realise and accept your feelings in your own time. Soon enough you were on your own again but not for long, only until Steph called out for you to see if you were also ready to leave.

‘Everything all good with Kyra?’ Steph asked you once you had both settled into the car. She noticed Kyra seemed a little bit different throughout training. She wasn’t completely her normal self. Barely anyone could get a smile out of Kyra and Steph kind of missed Kyra’s mischief during training. 

‘Yeah, you know she gets more clingy when she’s tired’ You shrugged. The lie easily comes out of your mouth. It wasn’t a complete lie, the truth being you really had no idea what was wrong with Kyra. But you didn’t want to think about that. That your best friend who always tells you what’s wrong or just anything like that, didn’t tell you. You know she doesn’t have to tell you everything, but you couldn’t help the pit that formed in your stomach wondering why she didn’t confide in you like normal and if you had done anything wrong, ‘Drive faster I want to see Calvy,’

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

‘I’m not going to push you to talk about it. If you need just the company without talking about what’s bothering you then we’ll do just that,’ Lia was the first to speak since Kyra entered Lia’s apartment. Kyra settled on one of the stools at the kitchen counter, watching Lia finish off the last bits to the dinner she was making for them, ‘Just know I am here for you. All the girls are, they just have a different way of showing it. Whenever you’re ready if you want,’

Kyra looked at Lia with a small smile. She was incredibly grateful for the friendships she’s made within the team in a small amount of time. Especially the friend she’s found in Lia. Unlike the others Kyra would potentially consider talking to about her feelings, she knows that Lia isn’t one to outright tease or make fun of her. The others mean well but they can be a bit much. Sometimes all Kyra wants and needs is someone who will listen or just be around without the teasing comments. 

‘I know they mean well but the teasing can be a bit much,’ Kyra’s voice was small. She always tries to brush off every comment, it was easier before she realised she had feelings for her best friend. Kyra could reduce any teasing comment down to it not being true. But now it was true, everything felt different. 

Kyra helped Lia carry everything down to the table, ‘There’s no pressure. I want that to be clear,’

‘I think I like,’ Kyra started but cut herself off shaking her head, picking at the food in front of her, ‘No, I know I like Tiny,’ Kyra couldn’t keep it inside and Lia always made her feel calm and safe. Enough that Kyra blurted out the main thing that had been bugging her the last few days, ‘But I don’t know. I’m scared. I don’t know if I should tell her, I don’t want to lose her or risk ruining anything. She might not even like me back and then I’d feel stupid for telling her. What if she hates me for this? Why does it all have to be so hard and confusing?’ 

Lia continued to just listen while Kyra poured out everything that was on her mind. Once Kyra started she kept going until the weight had lifted off her shoulders and she felt like she could breathe again. Kyra kept looking down at her food, slight tears coating her eyes but not enough for any to fall. Part of her is glad to finally get everything off her chest but also she wishes the ground would swallow her whole so she doesn’t have to face what Lia might say.

‘Kyra, one thing I know is that Tiny could never hate you. Anyone can tell how much she loves you. Even if it’s just as friends she wouldn’t leave you. I know you know that,’ Lia’s voice was soft but also firm, wanting her words to sink into Kyra’s head. Regardless of if you liked Kyra the same way, Lia was right in how much love you have for Kyra even just as a friend, ‘No one but her could tell you whether that love is more. But it’s understandable to be scared. You know in your heart when you are ready to tell her, don’t force yourself but listen to yourself. I’ll be right here the whole time no matter what happens,’

Kyra nodded along, offering Lia a small smile in appreciation to her words. Being able to talk through this with someone was a better decision than bottling it up until Kyra eventually exploded, ‘Thank you Lia. It’s hard to listen to myself but I guess that is the only thing I can do. At the end of the day I’ll still have everyone regardless and I have to remind myself of that,’ 

Lia smiled back at Kyra, ‘Now…tell me, what is Tiny like?’ Lia smirked trying to lighten the mood and take Kyra’s mind away from the bigger more serious thoughts that were no doubt racing through her mind.

‘Where do I start?’ Kyra joked, a wide smile taking over her face just at the thought of you, ‘I kind of wish I was with her tonight, I miss her smile and laugh. She just gets me and knows me in a way that no one else ever could. I’ve never wanted more with someone as much as I want this with her,’ The rest of the night Kyra spent gushing over you, while Lia just listened and occasionally made a teasing comment amongst the endless support she made sure to keep reassuring Kyra with.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

You were laying on the couch. Calvin laying on top of you, more like squashing you but dog cuddles were your favourite part of the day, they made up for not getting any Kyra cuddles, ‘Stephy, you expecting someone?’ You heard the knock at the door, Calvin pushing hard on your stomach making you wince when he got up to stand at the door tail wagging.

‘Oh yeah, Leah’s coming over for dinner,’ Steph poked her head out from the kitchen to tell you before disappearing to finish off the food she was cooking.

‘Hey Le, when are you gonna learn to cook?’ You smiled, laughing a little while greeting Leah with a hug before letting her into the apartment, ‘Figured you just kept Wally as your personal chef,’

‘You’re a little shit you know that,’ Leah rolled her eyes, shaking her head at you, ‘Kyra’s at Wally’s and I wasn’t allowed to intrude so here I am,’ Your smile dropped slightly after hearing that Kyra was with Lia. Kyra cancelled on your plans to be with Lia instead. It was weird Kyra didn’t tell you. You were sure that if Kyra liked Lia then she would’ve told you about it.

The thought of Kyra liking someone didn’t sit well with you. Your stomach churning at the thought, ‘We weren’t even your first choice,’ You clutched your heart, faking being offended at Leah’s words. Joking around to cover up how you were really feeling, ‘No more Calvy cuddles for you,’ 

You grabbed the dog up into your lap away from Leah. Holding onto Calvin a little closer and a little tighter. Hoping the dog in your lap would help ease the thoughts swirling around in your mind. 

[mattsonly]

Invisible string

Summary: reader and Matt always find their way to each other, finally the smarter of the two realising it might just be a sign.

Warnings: none! just tooth-rotting fluff really, kissing, mutual pining, idiots in love, unrequited love, reader is an actress

a/n: i loved writing this, love writing fluff sm in general, not as good at it as i am smut, but still :)

~

The friendship had always been one of absolute clarity, honesty and trust. Matt had even sat in the bathroom on the floor while you showered, recounting his events of the day and always laughing stupidly when recalling something Chris did that he deemed hillarious, or stupid. Mostly both. And after the water stopped, he'd always grab your favourite towel from the cupboard, tossing it over the shower curtain so you could step out and he could continue his ramble.

Even when you had to move to LA for your blooming career, nothing shifted within the relationship. Not even the distance managing to shatter the bond. Facetime calls from then on lasted almost full days whenever your schedule would allow it, conversations ranging from a debriefing of one anothers day, to how you had almost choked on your coffee that evening, to how much Matt's mother missed you.

You were best friends, inseparable in heart and mind, despite living far away from each other. It was most definitely fair to say you and Matt had a unique bond.

Every day, you would wake up to the realization that you were separated by miles and time zones. Yet, your connection remained unbreakable. You and Matt would send each other messages, sharing the highs and lows of your lives, bridging the gap with your words.

You would reminisce about the memories the two of you had created together, the laughter echoing through the air, and the adventures you embarked upon side by side. Despite the physical distance, your spirits remained intertwined, as if you were still exploring the world together.

The friendship became a sanctuary, a place where you both could seek solace and support. Matt would offer words of encouragement, lending a listening ear, and providing comfort when needed. You were each other's pillars, despite the miles that separated you.

Through the ups and downs, both of you celebrated each other's victories and provided a shoulder to lean on during moments of sorrow. Both understanding the importance of being present for one another, even if it meant being present from afar.

This bond was a testament to the power of friendship, proving that distance could never truly diminish the love and connection you shared. Despite being physically apart, two hearts were forever intertwined, united by a friendship that knew no boundaries. As if connected despite the distance separating you.

A year after your departure, you could've sworn you saw Matt's registration plate while grabbing a coffee, resorting to procrastinate your beverage in order to discover. Well, if that meant follow. Nearing closer to the vehicle, with only one car apart, it was easier to tell that it was infact Matt's car.

Sneaky bastard, didn't even tell me.

Eventually pulling into a parking lot outside Mcdonald's, you stepped out of your car and made your way over to Matt's, your hands shaking in excitement before he turned his head, clocking you outside the car window and practically leaping out the door, your feet now carrying you at a much faster pace, landing directly into your best friends open arms.

His warm scent enveloped you, swarming you in comfort and drowning you in a sense of security.

Pulling away, Matt winced at the sharp blow you left to his chest, clutching the area almost immediately.

"Ow! what the fuck?" he shrieked, clearing his throat to conceal the evident voice crack.

"You didn't tell me you fucking fuck!" your choice of words spontaneous and only dawning on you after already being shouted into the brunette's face.

"I didn't know we'd see you, LA is huge man, we thought we would just be staying with Laura for a little bit, didn't wanna get our hopes up." As he uttered the word 'we' your head snaps back to the car, Nick and Chris leaned against it, both with an unimpressed expression.

"Ah, so we aren't invisible!" The eldest smiles, opening his arms for you to run into, softly rubbing your back as your eyes water.

When you turn to Chris, his dopey smile almost splits his face, causing you to shake your head before collapsing against his chest too, feeling his palm softly hit your back repeatedly.

Turning on your heels back to Matt, you take a moment to appreciate his features before even recognising his words, his voice falling on deaf ears. His hair had been changed, now sat in a fresh middle part rather than the fluffiness from before. He was also taller, not by much but it was noticeable. Eighteen had evidently shaped him, he looked more.. mature yet his youthful face remaining.

"Helloooo? I asked if you wanted to come with?!" Matt's words finally registered as he tilted his head towards the fast food building, a teasing grin on his face at your evident daydreaming.

The debriefing when you were all eating lunch in Matt's car was possibly the most dramatic and longest you'd had since you parted, finalisimg with the decision to spend the two weeks they were in the area together.

During the fortnight you were finally reconnected, your two souls found themselves reunited after months of being apart. It was a serendipitous moment, as if fate had conspired to bring you together once more. Unbeknownst to either of you, both yours and Matt's hearts held a secret, a love that had silently blossomed over time.

As you directed him and his brothers through your daily views, memories flowed back from the few similarities between here and Boston, painting the town with hues of nostalgia. You all laughed, reminisced, and shared stories of your now separate lives. Yet, amidst the laughter and joy, there was an unspoken longing between you and Matt, a connection that neither of you fully understood.

Days turned into weeks, and with each passing moment, your bond grew impossibly stronger. You each found solace in each other's presence, seeking comfort in the familiarity of the shared history. But as the days dwindled, reality began to set in. The boy's departure back to Boston loomed on the horizon.

In those final days, there was a bittersweet ambiance that enveloped you both. Treasuring each stolen glance, each touch that lingered a little longer. Yet, the both of you remained blissfully unaware of the depth of your feelings for one another. You were caught in a delicate dance, two hearts yearning to speak the unspoken words.

The day of departure arrived, and as Matt along side Chris and Nick boarded the plane, a sense of longing filled the air. You all exchanged a heartfelt goodbye, but with you and Matt your eyes betrayed the emotions you dared not voice. It was a farewell that held within it the weight of unspoken love, a love that would remain hidden.

And so, you parted ways with you bestfriend, though carrying a piece of the middle child within your heart. You each returned to your separate lives, resorting back to the long daily phone calls and camera kisses rather than warm embraces. Little did either of you know that destiny had more in store, and that your paths would cross again, perhaps when the time was right for the love to be revealed.

And so they did, your life entangling with the triplet's once again after another almost two years since your last in person encounter. After returning from filming in Italy for 6 months, having to reduce the amount you reached out to your best friends due to your schedule during said period, deja vu striked unexpectedly as you saw Matt's car again. The interaction almost mirrored the last exactly, though this time you were informed of the boys' plan to also move to LA.

This discovery had tears to your eyes, sobbing into three chests that all stroked some part of your overjoyed body, whether it be your back, your hair or your shoulder.

After a few months of going back to being attatched at the hip with Matt, it was almost inevitable that the boys asked you to move in, already being such a big part of their life that it felt natural to ask. Of course, such an offer couldn't be refused, and so you were all intertwined again. The invisible string always managed to pull you back towards your best friends and Matt.

Weeks of being close with your boys once again had your stomach bubbling nervously whenever Matt was around. The source of the sensation was a mystery, confusing even yourself. Yet, even so, it had you wondering whether the boy felt it too.

You had now become an inseparable part of the triplets' tight-knit group. But ubeknownest to you and Matt, hidden beneath the friendship, a love was quietly blossoming.

Late one night, as the apartment was shrouded in darkness, you and Matt were both in the kitchen seeking comfort in a midnight snack. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, your hearts beating in sync, as you engaged in a conversation that seemed to transcend words.

During the small hushed interaction, a realization washed over your mind like a gentle wave. You saw the way Matt's eyes sparkled in the dim light, the way his laughter filled the room with warmth. And in that instant, you knew. Without hesitation, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, a silent confession of the love that had silently grown between you.

Time seemed to stand still as your lips met, the world around you fading into insignificance. In that stolen kiss, the depth of the silently spoken feelings was finally acknowledged, your hearts intertwining in a dance of unspoken passion. It was a moment that would forever change the course of your lives, embarking on a journey of love that had always been there, waiting to be discovered, finally spoken through spontaneous actions.

Your friendship transformed into something more profound, a love that would be cherished and nurtured. Alas, finally acknowledging the action that would not normally be performed by two best friends, words stumbled past your lips in a hurried excuse in attempt to aid the now broken wall between you both.

"Matt.."

"Shh, shhh, just.. don't.. don't say anything." The boys words had you dumbfounded, looking up into his love blown irises, seeing nothing other than adoration which had your heart and mind swarming. Your swirling thoughts were short lived, interrupted by Matt's soft lips on yours again, moving softly against your own, capturing a stray tear falling down your cheek.

Oh universe, you sneaky, sneaky bitch..

a/n: so sorry abt the rushed ending!! i just thought i dragged it out too long already and i didn't want to bore anyone. ANYWAY!! i hope you likeee :)

@mattsenthusiast @raysmayhem-72 @slut4mattsturn @sturnlovr @ivonchetooo1239 @evieolo

[grandline-fics]

Hi can i request a Luffy x fem!reader where the pair are just two dumb idiots together like the reader has a personality like his (overly enthusiastic and optimistic) and they do everything together but they both dont realize that the like eachither (bc again dumb idiots) and the crew works tgt to make them both realize and get them to confess to eachother?

DESCRIPTION: You’re just as clueless as Luffy and the crew have to intervene to make you both realise your feelings

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Luffy

WORDS: 1,734

A/N:  Thank you for this request. I honestly didn't know how to make this work in the beginning but I'm happy with how this fell into place. Hopefully you like what I came up with

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

Once upon a time the Strawhat crew believed that their Captain was one of a kind. They took his energetic nature, clear motivation to only do what he wanted as his current mood directed without any thought beyond that, stubbornness, and still unwavering joy in the face of most things as the concoction that could only be Luffy. However they were all collectively shocked when you crash landed into their lives and promptly made them realise that everything that made Luffy his loveable yet exhausting self was also very clearly what made you you too and when you and Luffy first interacted it was like two points finally connecting, never to separate. 

All their adventures before you came along seemed like such a breeze, how naive they had been in those days to consider it difficult to keep up with Luffy’s optimism and spontaneity. After you joined the crew if felt like double the work. It didn’t matter if they had eyes on one of the chaotic pair you two created because without the vigilant supervision over both of you, it only assured a disaster that could have been avoided. It never mattered to you or Luffy because at the end of the day you two would be laughing and telling the drained crew that it had worked out in the end and that there had been nothing to worry about. After a while it wasn’t the lack of thought to the crew and their wants of an easy time on an island to explore that frustrated them, it was the fact that you and Luffy still hadn’t realised you had feelings for each other and continued to act like oblivious morons every single day while also so clearly showing them and anyone else you interacted that you were two idiots in love. 

“They’re doing it on purpose.” Nami muttered one day, arms folded tightly across her chest as she glared at you and Luffy running about the deck of the Sunny, laughing and chasing Chopper without a care in the world. Suddenly Luffy grabbed one of the masts and propelled himself through the air. Chopped managed to dodge but you ended up being the one Luffy tackled loudly onto the ground. There was a beat of silence before the two of you burst out into loud laughter once more, doing nothing to move out of the position you were currently in. “They have to be doing it on purpose. They’re evil geniuses.”

“Don’t give them so much credit. They’re both just blind to how they really feel.” Zoro disagreed from his spot in the shade, opening his good eye to look you and Luffy’s way. “Don’t know how many times the stupid cook and I have brought it up. Luffy just believes he loves them the same way he loves us as his crew.”

“Oh no, that’s a very different kind of love compared to what he feels for us.” Usopp said with a small shake of his head. He supposed that the only reason this whole matter hadn’t been resolved yet was because of your personality. Anyone else would have been more aware of the difference and clear feelings and actually talked things out with their Captain. Everyone seemed to let out a collective sigh of exhaustion and resignation. All of them wishing-more for their own selfish peace of mind more than anything- there was something to be done and help you both realise your feelings.

It wasn’t until a week later that the crew stopped at a new island to relax and enjoy while they waited for the Log Pose to set. While some took to resupplying the ships, others took to exploring. You weren’t exactly annoyed that you hadn’t gone with Luffy, you were just confused at why Usopp and Nami insisted on you joining them on their shopping trip and no one else coming with them. Had they had a fight with some of the others on the crew that you weren’t aware of? You certainly hoped not, you didn’t like the crew fighting amongst themselves. 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Nami whispered to Usopp as they remained a couple paces away from you. Operation: Divide and Conquer might have had a good name but the strategy didn’t seem all that good except try and get you to confess to Luffy by either making you jealous or straight up lying. If they couldn’t get through to you, they would try the same tactic with Luffy.

“It has to!” Usopp hissed back, quickly throwing you a nervous smile when you looked over your shoulder with a curious tilt of your shoulder. “Hey let’s go in here!” He called out in a panic, pointing to the closest store. You stopped and shrugged, going along with whatever the sniper wanted. You had nothing to buy on this trip so you were just here for company and fun. Still this wasn’t what you’d thought would be on his or Name’s shopping list.

“Is someone getting married?” You asked, looking around the store filled with elegant gowns, robes and suits. Suddenly your eyes lit up as you hurried to hug Nami and Usopp tightly, so this was why they had insisted on you coming with them. You couldn’t fully understand why they were being so secretive but it didn’t matter given how overcome with happiness for them. “You guys! I’m so happy for you both! Have you told the others?! Are you getting married on the island?” 

“WHAT?! NO! ” Nami blurted out in shock while Usopp could only shriek at the implication. “We’re not getting married!”

“Oh…that’s a shame.” Your smile fell slightly. “I always thought you two made a nice couple. Guess I was wrong. So who is getting married?” You asked, staring intently on your friends who stammered and struggled to think of something. Operation: Divide and Conquer was crashing and burning around them and their brains all but blanked as together they rambled together while you patiently listened. Neither of them really knew what they’d told you or knew if it made any sort of sense but you seemed to accept it and continued with your day with the frazzled pair.

When you returned to the Sunny later that day you went to your usual perch of the railing near Sunny’s head. Silently you thought over what Usopp and Nami told you and were beginning to work it out in your head when Luffy appeared beside you with a bright grin. “Hey, what’s got you so frustrated looking?” He asked, oblivious to the rest of the crew on the deck; all of them pretending to go about their business when they were only making sure they were close enough to hear. 

“I’m thinking about Usopp.” You explained in a dazed tone, absently running your fingers along your bottom lip, deep in thought. Luffy frowned slightly while different sets of eyes glanced Usopp’s way, all confused about what he and Nami did while they were alone with you. “I’m trying to work out this wedding.”

“Usopp’s getting married?” Luffy asked. On the one hand he was happy but on the other hand he thought Usopp would have told him personally. “To who?”

“That’s what I’m trying to work out.” You mumbled before taking a deep breath, deciding to start from the beginning. “Usopp’s enemy wants him to marry their princess to avoid a great battle but he doesn’t want a fight or to get married so he needs to make them think he’s already married so they don’t get angry right? He needs Sanji to cater the wedding, Brook to preform the music, and Zoro to be his bodyguard so they’re out. Nami said because she’s giving Usopp the money for the wedding that’s the only favour she’s doing and won’t marry him as well because that’s not fair. Usopp said he can’t marry Franky or Robin because they’re like his parents and Chopper’s a reindeer and that’s weird. Which leaves us.” 

The more you explained the situation the more Usopp and Nami shrank towards the floor out of despair and embarrassment. Why had you believed that nonsense enough to now relay it to the entire crew who were now looking at them in bafflement. Through it all Luffy hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. He didn’t want Usopp to be forced to be married to someone he didn’t like but it didn’t stop him from quickly turning on his heel and looking to his friend. “Usopp I’ll marry you!”

“You can’t marry me dumbass!” Usopp shouted back making Luffy glare, all but standing in front of you to block you from Usopp’s stare.

“Well you’re not allowed to marry them. So it’s me or the princess.” Luffy told him with defiance in his eyes.

“Why can’t he marry me?” You asked curiously while getting to your feet, watching Luffy blink as he only now considered his fierce sense of protectiveness and possessiveness towards you. 

“Because I don’t want him to?” He suggested with a shrug. “I don’t want you to marry him, I don’t like it.”

“Well I don’t like you being married to Usopp.” You added, voicing your own reluctance and unhappiness at the thought of Luffy marrying…well anyone. There was a silent exchange between you and Luffy as though you were communicating in your own way through a look alone. Together you both grinned with a faint blush creeping across your cheeks as you both whipped your head towards Usopp and declared in unison.  “Usopp you’re marrying the princess.”

While it hadn’t been the grand romantic epiphany the crew had been expecting to witness, they could tell that a shift between you both had occurred. There was something a little more intimate between you both while you both remained your happy, energetic selves. No one on the crew had the heart to tell either of you that Usopp had been completely lying about the arranged marriage so they never mentioned it again. They were however all in agreement that if it ever was brought up it was to be brushed aside and explained as a story Usopp had been thinking of writing and nothing more. But from the looks of things slowly developing between you and Luffy they could all see that it was shaping up to having a happily ever after.  

[mistiell]

When you're lost in the Darkness

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Summary: Astarion suspects that you're afraid of the dark. What he doesn't know, is that not only will he soon be proven right, but he severely underestimated just how severe your fear is.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, nyctophobia, brief description of panic attack, possibly ooc Astarion, literally one use of y/n

A/N: Hey hi hello, I am back from the void for now. I would like to make a disclamier: I have not yet played BG3!! So, if anyone is out of character, I apologize!

---

Astarion has a theory.

A small and rather unimportant one, but a theory nonetheless.

It started when he noticed the way you set up your bed roll when the group makes camp for the night. You’re always as close to the fire as you can be without lighting yourself aflame, and when it dims to a certain point, he’s watched you rouse out of a dead sleep to stoke the coals and add more fuel. At first, he thought perhaps you were just prone to chills – he knows some people run cold when they sleep – but after lingering after one of your shared nights together, he came to realise that you’re actually more like a mostly-human furnace.

Then he noticed the way you linger around any sort of light source like a moth to a flame after the sun has set, and the way you fidget and glance over you shoulder every few minutes on the off chance your back is to the darkness.

He finds it strange. Granted, he thinks you’re strange for a variety of other reasons, but this pattern of behaviour is particularly puzzling to him. Which has lead him to his theory;

“You’re afraid of the dark.” He jests after watching you glance into the woods for the umpteenth time, aiming for teasing and realising he’s missed when your face falls into something akin to shame and discomfort.

You try to cover it with a scoff, rolling your eyes in a way he knows is meant to feign indifference, “I have far worse things to fear than the dark.” You spit those last two words, as if they taste bitter on your tongue. Firelight dances in your eyes as you keep your gaze trained firmly on him, even despite how much you look like you want too search for whatever it is you’ve convinced yourself is out there, intent on disproving him.

“True,” He smirks with a practiced ease, suddenly – strangely – desperate to ease the tension he’s just created, “But should you ever find yourself too afraid to sleep alone,” He leans in just a smidgen closer, grinning coquettishly, “My arms are always open.”

You snort, the tension in your shoulders ebbing just so as you chuckle, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“By all means, keep me in your thoughts as long as you wish, darling.” He hums, smile just a little softer than he intends when you genuinely laugh at that, the sound sweet and airy as it bubbles up from your throat.

“And with that, I’m off to bed.” He nearly mistakes incredulousness for fondness, but catches himself as you stand. Turning back for just a moment, you give him a smile so soft, it makes is gut twist with a feeling he’s a little unsure of, “Goodnight, Astarion.”

If he’d fed more recently, he’s sure his cheeks would be flushed. He blinks, clears his throat, “Sleep well, my sweet.”

Only days later, his theory is proven correct when you stumble upon some sort of abandoned cottage – House? Astarion’s not entirely sure – and, upon Gale’s insistence that it could be useful, decide to search it for wares.

“You do know there’s likely nothing of use in here, don’t you?” Shadowheart sighs impassively as she thumbs through a tattered book, slotting it back into place where she found it once she’s deemed it useless.

Gale huffs and rolls his eyes, “Well, we won’t know until we look, will we?”

“We won’t be finding much of anything if you two don’t quit your squabbling.” You quip before turning your attention back to the chest you were searching. You just barely lean into Astarion’s space, grinning impishly. He leans in just a little closer – only to hear you better, of course – as you whisper, “They’re like children, I tell you.”

Something shatters. You both turn just as Shadowheart fixes Gale with a stern look, “Hells, Gale, pay attention to where you’re going!”

“Wh- It’s not my fault!” Astarion raises a brow at their bickering, tutting amusedly, “Children, indeed.”

Huffing a laugh, your attention slides to a door on the far side of the room and move to investigate. After trying the handle and finding it jammed, it takes a good shove to get it open. The only thing that illuminates the small pantry is the light filtering in from the door you’ve just opened.

You seem content to simply skim over the contents of the room from where you’re standing until you spot something of interest, eyes lighting up with a little gasp.

Astarion takes your place in the doorway as you rush into the room after propping the door open with a nearby pail, curious, “What have you found?”

Snatching a little tin box off a shelf, you open it and beam, “Oh, I haven’t had this in ages!”

“What?” He asks again, a little impatient.

You hold it out to him, and when he comes closer to look over the lip of the tin, he finds a fair amount of shredded, aubergine coloured leaves inside.

He looks back to you, confused, “Tea?” “Tea.” You grin, holding it up to your nose and closing your eyes to revel in the fruity scent, “I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s delicious.”

With how delighted you are over finding it, he doesn’t doubt it.

“Well, at least we can tell the others our searching wasn’t in vain.” He turns, “Settle that dispute between Gale and Shadowhear-.” The toe of his boot bumps the pail, sending it rolling as the door swings shut and swathes the room in darkness.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but eventually, the door comes back into view, only now the faded sage green paint is a dull grey.

Just as he moves for the door, he’s startled by the clattering of metal and a loud bump. He whips around to ask what in the hells just happened, but the words die in his throat when he finds you pressed flat against the shelves on the far wall – which really isn’t that far considering there’s only about six feet between the two of you. He can hear your heart racing from where he’s standing, your breaths quick and shallow.

That theory he had just got a lot more important.

He calls your name and you flinch, gaze flitting in his general direction but never settling on him. You look well and truly petrified. “Darling, are you alright?”

It’s a terrible question considering you are very visibly not alright, but he can’t seem to come up with anything else fast enough.

“I can’t–.” Your voice cracks and you swallow, looking dreadfully close to tears as you squeeze your eyes shut and cover your face with your hands, “I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.”

“Hang on,” After trying the handle, he finds the door is jammed no matter how hard he yanks. He considers calling for Karlach or Wyll, but thinks better of it, not wanting to frighten you further. They’ll notice the two of you are missing and come looking eventually.

“Astarion.” His name from your lips pulls him from his thoughts. He usually loves hearing you say his name, even when your cross with him. But when it comes out like a pitiful mix between whisper and whimper, he finds his heart twists uncomfortably in his chest.

He turns back to you and stalls. Unsure, helpless. He wants desperately to comfort you, but he has no idea how. He goes over the many different ways he could try, and the many different ways you could react, before finally, “Tell me what you need.”

After a moment of hesitation, you hold out a trembling hand and he steps forward to take it without a second thought. You tense when his skin first meets yours, palms wet with tears as your breath hitches. You tug him closer to wrap your arms around his middle and cling to him like a lifeline, shaking terribly as you bury your face into his neck. He secures you to him with an arm around your back and a hand cupped over the nape of your neck. He can feel your heartbeat stuttering under his fingertips when they settle over your pulse.

You’re still gasping.

“You need to breathe, lovely.” He says it gently, voice void of his usual coquettish flare. The nickname is softer than what he’s used with you so far, and it feels and sounds more earnest than it should. He tries not to dwell on it as he soothes his palm up and down the length of your spine, “Try to mimic me. I’ll guide you, alright?” You nod, and when starts coaching you through each inhale and exhale, you do your best to follow.

It takes several breaths, but eventually, they grow deeper and stop catching in your chest. Your heart slows. Not by a lot, but enough that Astarion can stop worrying that you’ll work yourself into a panic induced fainting spell.

He guides you through a few more before asking, “Better?”

You nod. With your throat dried out from crying, your voice is rather croak-y when you reply, “A little.”

“You sound like a frog.” It startles a laugh from you, the sound letting Astarion breathe a little easier.

“I do!” You sniffle, still laughing. It makes him laugh too.

“What the hells is so funny in there?” Lae’zel shouts from the other side with all her usual charm.

“Frogs!” Astarion shouts back, and you giggle a little more.

There’s a few loud bangs as one of your friends attempts to open the door. He can feel you flinch with each one until finally, it bursts open, blessed light washing over the two of you despite Karlach towering in the doorway. Your body sags with relief, and a little, involuntary sound escapes you as a new wave of tears threatens to spill, this time for an entirely different reason.

“What happened in here?” Gale asks, looking wildly confused as you slip out of Astarion’s arms and wipe at your cheeks hastily. “Oh, erm,” You clear your throat awkwardly, gaze bouncing between the items the fell when you backed into the shelf before settling on the tea leaves. You look genuinely disappointed as you gesture vaguely towards the small pile on the floor, “I found a tea I really like and got upset when I dropped it.”

“Ah. I see.” Gale nods, still obviously perplexed. If any of them find the explanation odd, they don’t say anything.

Shadowheart leans around Karlach, “We should get a move on. There are only so many hours before sundown.”

“Right. Yes, that’s a good idea.” You nod, clearly thankful for an excuse to get the hell out of there as you squeeze past them and lead them outside.

Much to Astarion’s chagrin, Karlach turns when she notices he’s hung back, “Oi, Astarion. What are you doing?”

He glances between her and the pantry before huffing, “Just... Tell them to wait a moment.”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously but agrees, leaving him to tell you and the others. He makes his way back into the pantry for a moment before jogging outside to join you.

It’s a good few hours until you make camp, and another few before he finally plucks up the courage to approach you near your tent.

You notice him striding over and smile at the sight of him, “Astarion! To what to I owe the pleasure?”

“I come bearing gifts.” He announces dramatically, hoping his puckish grin will be enough to mask how incredibly fucking nervous he truly is.

“For me?” You ask, cocking your head slightly to one side.

He rolls his eyes playfully, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, would I?”

“Well obviously, I just meant–,” You huff and shake your head, chuckling incredulously, “Never mind. What have you got for me?”

He holds out the tin and watches surprise and confusion flash over your face in quick succession before something unbearably soft settles over your features.

Taking it from him, you’re quick to pop the lid off. You gasp when you lay eyes on the contents, eyes wide when you look back at him with such wonder, it nearly knocks the wind out of him, “How did you–?”

“I salvaged what I could off the top of the pile. I– erm,” He clears his throat, “I thought it would be wasteful to leave perfectly good tea behind when at least one of us could enjoy what’s left of it. Irresponsible, even.”

You huff a laugh. There’s no mistaking the fondness this time.

“You’re absolutely right. That would be irresponsible of us.” Your smile shifts into something heart achingly earnest as you step closer and lean up to peck his cheek, “Thank you.”

“Of course, love.” He’s aiming for coquettish but it comes out too sincere to be convincing. That feeling twists at his chest again and it’s only now that he realises what it is.

He actually, genuinely cares for you.

Rattled, he feigns a yawn and smirks, “Well, as much as I adore your company, I really must be off to bed. Beauty sleep, and all that.”

“Right!” You seem to startle yourself with your own volume and clear your throat, chuckling awkwardly, “Right, of course. Goodnight, Astarion.”

He takes a mere second to mull it over before he throws caution to the wind and cradles the side of your neck in his palm, thumb brushing the curve of your jaw as he presses his lips to the apple of your opposite cheek. Before he takes time to actually think over his new found feelings and potentially freak himself out, he’s going to let himself indulge in you just a little while longer.

Pulling back, he brushes the back of his knuckles over the skin he just kissed, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

He can hear your heart thump, thump, thumping as he walks towards his own tent. The feelings he has for you are a new and rather inconvenient development. But if later he finds that he doesn’t particularly mind?

No one has to know just yet.

[zlebooks]

𓂃 alhaitham + no words to describe .

for a haravatat graduate, alhaitham sure knows a lot of words. but when it comes to you, it’s only silence that he can provide for comfort.

alhaitham, a scholar who has mastered over 40 languages, classifies words into two categories: those that defy translation and those that cannot be expressed in any other form. to him, whichever you might be, will always be someone that he will earnestly try to decipher.

that goes for days when you can’t help but wish to stay quiet on your own, with you pulling away from the group as you’d rather drown in your own thoughts. alhaitham appears right beside you moments later, staring off at a distance with no words leaving his mouth. the scribe provides comfort with no words, making the silence a little bit bearable along with the crickets in the dark night.

kaveh tells him often that he has an emotional quotient of rock. how he lacks empathy and how at times he fails to connect with people. alhaitham knows that there’s some merit behind those words hurled at him, but as he stares at your unmoving form; face riddled with sadness and eyes moist, alhaitham wishes he can provide more comfort than his silent company.

there are also days when you take your isolation to a different level. these days are reserved when all your feelings have filled your insides to the brim, waiting to explode. alhaitham, the last person you expected to lecture you on the matters of the heart, has told you once before that it’s no use in bottling your feelings up— it does nothing for you and for the people around you— but just like the stubbornness of a rock, you never heeded his words seriously. during these times, he’d be there outside your door. he’s not hovering; he never hovers. he’s there to wait, just in case you decide to come out and seek his silent comfort. you have always thought that he’ll eventually grow tired of this setup, with him always waiting around and you taking longer to come out each time. but similar to knowledge, always there and always true, alhaitham remains outside your door, every single time.

it seems like it was one of those nights when you have yet again bottled up your feelings against alhaitham’s advice. the moon lights up the sky, its light going through the cracks of your blinds. a familiar ache settles inside your chest. only this time, the weight feels heavier, like the unspoken words and pent-up feelings are tugging the edges of your heart harder. the air around turns difficult to breathe in, like everything holding you down materialised became the very dust you had to breathe in.

outside, alhaitham is waiting like he always has, the gentle hum of the night accompanying him.

tonight, something shifts within you. your feet take you to your door, your hand trembling as you reach for the handle. as you twist the door open, familiar teal eyes meet yours and flickers in surprise.

people around you would always talk about how the scribe was expressionless. if no one knew better, one would think he’s some sort of smart machinery, created by the brilliant mind of a builder. but as merely metres separate the two of you, you notice the slightest movement in his eyebrows, the small tilt of his lip, expressing concern. he makes no move to enter your room, waiting for you to utter words. and for the first time, you step out. not to flee, but to confront.

“alhaitham,” you start and words like water break free from the dam you were holding in. you talk about your fears, your worries, the dread that consumes you from within. and alhaitham listens, unmoving, he doesn’t care when you stumble over your words because he knows all of it were genuine.

when you finish, alhaitham remains. your words dried up and worries aired out but alhaitham remains. and the scribe realises yet another thing in your presence; he who has mastered over 40 languages learns another one that is beyond words to connect with you.

with the moon unwaning and casting a soft glow on the both of you, alhaitham finds the courage to hold you in his arms. his touch that is so tender, so warm, so delicate, cherishes you in your entirety, with or without your fears.

for the first time that night, alhaitham opens his mouth to speak, “sometimes,” he starts with so much softness in his voice, “no word from any language is needed to comfort and to understand.” he looks you in the eyes and pauses for a moment, “sometimes, just being there is enough.”

and in his gentle embrace you remain thankful, and in your heart, a feeling with no amount of flowery words to describe blooms.

♥︎ please do not repost or translate without my permission . reblogs are heavily appreciated!

a/n: js a little writing practice and projecting my own feelings lawl

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Stolas has an S/O that's obsessed with his scent

His Scent~

You met the prince when both of you were young, Stolas was, well, a nerd. Book worm, rather, if you felt more polite.

And despite his best attempts to interact with other nobles or even other children, it became painfully obvious to the boy nobody really liked him.

A deeply painful realisation for the owls sensitive soul.

This is where you come in, you being the son of an Imp servant, would too lack any real friends, though you were raised as an Imp, so you never really expected much.

This would be how you found the young prince hiding behind the palace.

It was a nook the servants usually used when they wanted soem fresh air, or simply to hide from their work.

You of course, did the whole formal act, asking if he was alright, if he needed anything.

But when it became obvious he was sad, somberly telling you he was fine, but given his statr you didn't really believe him.

Seeing him in such a state, you'd open up to him, asking him if he was alright.

Stolas was hesitant at first, not sure if he could trust you, but when you genuinely opened up to him, he'd warm up to you, the two of you quickly talking back and forth.

It'd be through your talks, you taking e genuine interest in his books that a genuine friendship would develop, the two of you growing close.

You'd end up meeting In that spot often.

You being his only friend, and with the spot being isolated enough to not draw attention, it became your little sanctuary, the two of you spending countless hours there building a deep friendship with one and other.

But it'd be one day, the Owl having received both a verbal and physical lashing from his father, that you'd find him in tears.

You finding him in such a state did the only thing you could. You hugged him.

You'd hold him close and it seemed almost instantly you both realised 2 very important things.

1. Stolas was incredibly touch starved.

The man feeling so very strange, yet so delightful as you held him close. Your warmth and firm body making him feel incredible in your arms.

And 2. You loved his smell.

You didn't know if it was soap, or his clothes, or just his general musk, but you were instantly hooked.

You held the man for hours, the owl holding you back, adoring the contact, relishing every second of it.

This quickly became routine, the two of you meeting in the back of the palace, changing your meeting spot to the middle of the palaces hedge maze, the two of you free to get nice and close.

Literally.

Stolas would lay back on a blanket, the man holding you too his chest. You curling up against him, nuzzling his fluffy chest, adoring his stuffy yet deep scent.

You were hooked. His scent like a drug, your mind going numb as you nuzzled his chest fluff, the chest tuft like a drug for you, as you lay against him, breathing deep.

You'd spend a good bit of time with the Owl, like, not just with your nose in his fluff, the two of you spending lots of time together.

You'd play games, read or just spent time together. Enjoying each other's company.

You'd often spend time around his book, reading it together or the avian would just read it to you, you learning a great deal from the man and his books.

But despite this, you spent most of your time craving his scent, usually curled up against him, breathing in that musk, or wishing you could do as much, keeping close to the owl.

You'd become unreasonably close.

You being Stolas' only and closest friend, he'd become deeply dependent on your, care and your intimate contact, loving the way you'd hug him, expecting nothing in return.

You, adoring his scent, became something of a scent junkie. You taking any opportunity to breath in that distinct avian musk, his feathered form creating a unique and distinct scent you couldnt get enough of.

You spent countless hours together, just curled up. You nuzzling his fluff as he read to you, the both of you happy with the arrangement.

But despite your bliss, your relationship's defining moment would be when your mother caught you with the Prince.

She wasn't demon royalty, something you both thanked Lucifer for.

Though that didn't stop her from chewing you both out, though she targeted you specifically, being her son and ya know, not demon royalty.

She chewed you out, berating you as she demanded you never have such inappropriate contact with a Goetia ever again.

After this the two of you would spend several months apart, even as you both desperately craved each other's embrace, you couldn't risk getting caught, and with your increased duties, you both had work to do.

No chance to sneak off.

In the time you spent apart, you quickly became a servant, working your very hardest to become a trusted and valued servant.

With you working your ass off, you'd eventually end up in Stolas' vicinity.

He was eager to greet you, hoping to rekindle the relationship you once had, the man missing you dreadfully during your separation.

Yet as you walked past the man, you stonewalled him, walking past him like he was nothing.

Stolas' hope dampened, the man going back to the depressed state he was in before. His mood always dampened, believing you never wanted to be near him again.

Yet after a few weeks, Stolas finally giving up on you, falling into a deep depression, believing his only friend had abandoned him, was shocked as one day, as he walked down the halls of his palace, he'd suddenly find himself yanked into a nearby closet.

You'd hug the man close, holding him for several minutes, nuzzling his fuzzy chest, practically huffing his scent.

Stolas, recovering from the shock of the sudden turn of events, smiled. Tears forming in his eyes as he held you close, the two of you holding each other for several minutes as Stolas shed tears, so very happy to hold you again.

You'd talk for some time, speaking softly as you apologised for ignoring him, but you had to play your part, not wanting to blow it before working your way to a position of standing amongst the staff. You taking the occasional sniff of the owl as you explained it to him.

Stolas meanwhile just held you close, relishing your embrace, telling you he didn't care. He was just happy to have you back, missing you dreadfully.

You'd talk, quickly agreeing not to act on your mutual impulses in public. Both of you thinking clearly.

It'd quickly become a part of your daily routine, you always snatching him into a nearby closet, stolas loving the surprise, giggling madly as you held him, you huffing his chest, the man happily holding you close as you both stood there, relishing each other.

This was a common occurrence, and the only thing that kept him sane as he endured the monotony of Royal life.

It became even stranger as you grew, Stolas becoming a lanky, yet powerful man, you still remaining the itty bitty Imp you were as kids, the man now more than triple your height.

Stolas came to love this size difference, never stating as much in plain words and yet he adored the difference, the avian relishing the power dynamic.

It was funny.

Once youd been enough to pin him to the ground, yet now. Now he held you so easily, the man holding your form like e would a stack of books, and yet holding you was even easier.

But ehat he really found funny was that you still believed you held the power.

You never outright said it, but it was clear you believed you were in charge, you usually being the one to drag him into a closet or private room.

It'd be not long after Octavias birth, you taking your natural place as his right hand as Stolas ascended to head of the household, though your position mostly worked as a cover to worship the man's form when in private, an arrangement he was mostly satisfied with.

Stolas, maturing, grew more confident, his form becoming more dominant, the man deciding he wanted your relationship to become more than it was.

It'd be one day, you attempting to pull the man into a private room that he'd finally take command.

He'd resist your pull, you freezing before looking towards him, concerned you'd been caught.

But instead, you found your face forced into his chest fluff, holding you there as youd stare up at him, eyes widening as Stolas simply smirked at you, the avian gripped the base of your skill, fingers gripped between your horns as you breathed in his musk.

With a smirk he'd hold you there for several minutes, out in the open, relishing the look of shock, then realisation in your eyes as he felt an odd sense of submission, finally feeling the mans power over you.

He was in control.

In Command.

The man claming and relishing this new and odd power dynamic.

Leaning in, he kissed your forehead, you already hooked on his scent as he cooed, telling you he'd handle it.

It'd be as you finally pulled back, Stolas holding you tight. And after panting hard you'd look to him, the owl smiling smugly, leaning in to tell you bluntly.

"Your mine. And you'll do as I say. Understand?" He spoke softly, yet with a commanding edge, a tone used by royalty, staring down at you.

Seeing the man's crimson gaze staring at you, you'd gulp, nodding your head, submitting to the man. Only for the man to shove your face back into his fluff, relishing the newfound power he held over you. Loving your reaction. Your... submission. The man feeling this power for the first time in his life, yet finding it, delightfully Sinful.

This marked a distinct shift in your relationship, the man taking charge from that moment forwards.

You found your relationship change over night, the man taking a dominant stance from that moment forwards. Taking command on your dynamic.

It was... odd. Yet you adored the affection he showed. His power almost as addictive as his scent.

The man became the dominant partner in your relationship. As he always would, yet lacking the confidence to embrace his role.

It became a power trip for the man.

He was so used to you being in control of your meetings, when and where about them that when he took charge, it took a minute or two to get used to being in charge.

It didn't take long though, the man relishing his new found power over you, adoring the way you submitted to him, Stolas especially loving the way you loved his scent.

It was almost funny how quickly the demon came to dominate you, the owl wearing a near sadistic smile as he'd hold you down, face smashed into your chest, or his pits, knowing you loved it, that only making it even better for the man.

Stolas, while it woukd take time, with Octavia being born and thr boost of his confidence and ego from dominating you, along with his love for you, the man would divorce his wife as he went through a slight power trip, taking you as his lover.

He'd spend days holding you close, holding you to his musky, avian form. Holding you to his musty feathered chest. He'd forgo perfumes, preferring to expose you to his natural scents, loving how docile you became.

It was quite the power trip for the owl, the man relishing having you close, and seeing the power he held over you, the man felt like a lord. A king in his own right, his love for dominating you only eclipsed by his love for you.

You of course, adored him, loving the owl with every fibre of your being, ensuring you treated him like a king, A God, adoring every inch of the man you could, something Stolas relished every second of.

It'd take some time, especially with the divorce in progress, yet after winning, mostly with your moral support and gaining majority custody of his daughter, the man became even more drunk with power over you.

You became a pet, yet in the very best ways. The man adoring you as much as you did to him.

The man loved you, loved being with you, and how youd be with him.

The owl relished the way you'd submit to him, his favourite ability being to grab you and shove you into his chest, making you huff his scent till you were drunk on him, the owl utterly dominating you.

It was an absolutely unbalanced relationship, Stolas holding all the power, thr man loving the fact, but put simply, so did you.

Stolas was your S/O and master, and you loved every second of it, breathing in the man's element yet sinfully delightful scent.

[vesora]

all you got to do is sit there and look pretty: loa edition

DISCLAIMER: this was written before a series of realisations, the main point still stands but the subconscious mind does not exist. it is simply awareness. let go and let god.

one thing i have noticed, even in myself, is that we have this need to keep doing something. i need to keep affirming, i need to keep forcing myself into a state, i need to keep focusing on my thoughts or else it won’t manifest. all these thoughts have a common link, a fear of not manifesting, or rather, the 3D not conforming. 

it’s not our fault. we have been primed to think this way. work this hard and you’ll get (x). this is not the way it’s supposed to be. with the law, we break free. 

i need you to know that it’s okay if you’re consciously not thinking from your desire all the time. it’s okay that you don’t feel okay with entering another state if this one is too traumatic for you. relax and know the you on the outside, does not manifest.

who manifests then?

our inner self; our subconscious mind. our subconscious mind is us, but unlike our conscious selves, it is also the Universal Mind, meaning it knows all, it has all knowledge and power stored inside it. our job is to give the subconscious mind a job. as the conscious mind, we hold the key to decide to let what the subcon should manifest and not. we are the guard, we don’t manifest. 

all we really have to do is be still and let God, and by God i do not mean some external being, i mean our subconscious mind; our true self. letting go and detaching doesn’t mean you will stop caring about what you’re manifesting, it simply means that you know that the subconscious will handle it for you. because the subconscious IS you, it’s a robot that only listens to YOUR command. it cannot be influenced by any other force. 

experience 

for the past few days, when i made the unfavourable circumstances post, i was feeling so incredibly awful. i felt i had no reason to live, because i thought me as the conscious sora, was responsible for changing my life. while that is true to an extent, all i have to do is give an order. i told my subconscious mind that night to fix everything for me because i was tired and the next day, all the things that were causing me distress got solved. the next day i had an even better day, because the subconscious really fixed the things causing me stress. life was peaceful again.

it was then i realised that i have been too attached with doing things right, when all i had to do was sit there and look pretty while my subconscious does the work. 

another success happened just now! my browser froze and i didnt save this post. i panicked for a second then i was like “sora you just wrote a post about your subcon fixing things”; so i told my subcon “hey man fix this pls” and it did! lol browser is back to normal which is how ur seeing this post rn

what if my subconscious doesn’t listen?

anything that happens regarding these things is a direct reflection of you. inner creates outer, not the other way around. so, any failure is not because the technique failed, it’s because you haven’t changed self yet. and what changes self? persistence. you must keep persisting because the subconcious HAS NO CHOICE but to listen to you. if it ‘doesn’t’, DON’T ACCEPT IT. 

persistence

And He said unto them, Which of you shall have a friend, and shall go unto him at midnight, and say unto him, Friend, lend me three loaves; for a friend of mine in his journey is come to me, and I have nothing to set before him? And he from within shall answer and say, Trouble me not; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give thee. I say unto you, Though he will not rise and give him, because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth. And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. Luke 11:5-9

in this verse that neville also referenced, we can see that the man did not give up. in fact, importunity means: the act of making intrusions, being unrelenting, consistent. unrelenting, he never took no for an answer. he kept going and going and going until the man decided to give him bread. do not take no for an answer. do not settle. even if the door seems shut, you will ALWAYS be the key to open it; there is no other choice. keep telling your subconscious mind that you are rich, you are beautiful, you are everything and your subconscious mind will have no choice but to reflect that onto the 3D because that is its job.

excerpt from power of awareness:

“THERE ARE three principal characters in this quotation, you and the two friends mentioned.

The first friend is a desired state of consciousness .

The second friend is a desire seeking fulfillment.

Three is the symbol of wholeness, completion.

Loaves symbolize substance.

The shut door symbolizes the senses which separate the seen from the unseen.

Children in bed means ideas that are dormant.

Inability to rise means a desired state of consciousness cannot rise to you, you must rise to it.

Importunity means demanding persistency, a kind of brazen impudence.

Ask, seek, and knock mean assuming the consciousness of already having what you desire.

Thus the scriptures tell you that you must persist in rising to (assuming) the consciousness of your wish already being fulfilled. The promise is definite that if you are shameless in your impudence in assuming that you already have that which your senses deny, it shall be given unto you – your desire shall be attained.”

[flowercrowngods]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (these make one big story, you won't understand this part without the others)

day 04: here come the tears

a/n: the people have requested a surprise eddie pov and i have decided to pull a eurovision and ignore the public vote, just a little bit. but you get a tiny eddie pov, as a treat 🤍

Steve is crying. It's 1:07 a.m. and Steve is crying. And there is nothing Eddie can do about it as he's lying in bed, his heart breaking further with every passing second that they lie there in silence, quiet sniffles carrying over the phone. 

Steve is crying and Eddie is breaking. Steve is not talking to him and Eddie is breaking. Steve is not okay, and neither is Eddie. They're both breaking. 

And Eddie doesn't know what to do about it, how to fix it. How to make it better. How to tell Steve that he misses him, how to ask him to talk to him, how to keep him. To stop him from slipping through his fingers further and further until all there is is silence. 

"You know," his mind wanders back to years ago, his heart cracking at the memory. "I had the biggest crush on him for the longest time. Forever, really."

He remembers the way Steve's eyebrows shot up, his eyes round with... shock? Surprise? Or maybe something bad? 

"Oh?" 

"Yeah," Eddie had chuckled, fiddling with the straw in his drink to give his hands something to do. "Remember that kiss?" Steve nodded. "Well." Another chuckle, awkward this time, and possibly too revealing. 

Steve grinned at him, a self satisfied smirk that wavers just a little. "So you're saying you did fall madly in love with me, Munson?" 

Eddie's breath had hitched a little because Steve remembered those words so perfectly that had since doomed Eddie completely. But he covered it up with a laugh so easily, he was sure Steve didn't notice. 

"Maybe," he grinned. "But eh, that's in the past." 

It wasn't a lie; not really. But wasn't the truth either. 

The truth was that Eddie had moved on. The truth was that it's the kind of crush that was never really a crush. The kind that is a Forever more than anything else. 

The kind that will always be there, a flame burning inside my chest that carries your name and keeps it alive, keeps me warm. The kind of flame that will always be ready to become a bonfire again. Just say the word, Stevie. It's written in the universe. Say the word and I'll be yours. 

"Good," Steve said after a while, and Eddie remembers frowning, remembers that he wanted to ask what that tone was, what Steve was thinking. If he was worried or disgusted or felt betrayed that Eddie's been so hopelessly and helplessly in love with him. 

But all he said was, "Yeah. Remember Chrissy? We're kinda official now." 

And Eddie had known then just as he does now, that he'll be a happy man with Chrissy. She's his best friend, a sunshine on bleak days. She's no Steve, but she makes him happy. He had to move on from Steve – to try – and allow himself his own kind of happiness. He'd never expected to find it with Chrissy, but he loves her so much. He's grown to love her in the past years – not the movie kind of love, not the all-encompassing Steve kind of love, because that flame inside his chest can still only carry one name. 

But life is not a movie. And love is not always a fire. But he's still warm, still content, still happy. And so is Chrissy. She knows about his flame, says she understands. Eddie thinks he has one of her own, but he never asked; just held her that night, creating more of that silent happiness.

…Is he happy? Lying in bed, listening to Steve's quiet breaths that are barely audible over the phone, remembering the kiss, the confession, the Forever that he tried to move on from, he wonders what he's doing. Wonders if that contentment is worthwhile if it somehow lead him to losing Steve. 

Did he miss something? Did he fuck up without realising? 

He can't ask; Steve won't talk. 

All he can do is lie there and feel that flame that still carries Steve's name after ten, eleven, twelve years scorching his insides. 

All he can do is wonder if the whispered, "Good night, Stevie. I miss you," is some kind of goodbye. All he can do is lie awake all night and wonder where they started losing each other. 

~*~

Missing Eddie is worse than loving him. Missing Eddie makes it feel like all the heartbreak songs are written for Steve and his pain that will persist.

It’s been three months since the engagement party, and the sharp, biting heartache that cut into his lungs every time Steve tried to take a deep breath has dulled now, turned into a constant ache, an emptiness, the sorrowful traces of where an I love you turned into an I miss you. 

He’s barely talking to Eddie anymore, and with every passing day he just misses him more. 

Steve types the words I miss you over and over and over again, but never hits send. Just stares at them, wondering if Eddie knows. Wondering if he’s doing the right thing. He isn’t. There is no right thing. Nothing is right. Not without Eddie. 

He scrolls up in their chat, past Eddie’s questions if he’s okay, past his very own I miss yous, up and up and up to the strings of hearts, to the inside jokes, to the gentle teasing, to the You’re my favourite persons, to the happiness and joy and good, good times. 

He scrolls and scrolls until his phone vibrates and tells him there’s a new message in the chat. Steve frowns, his hollow heart racing as he scrolls down again to see Eddie’s new message. 

Eddie Munson: — Can I come over? 

Steve frowns. 

— why? are you okay? 

Eddie Munson: — No. — Nothing is okay. You’re gone and you’re not talking to me and I miss you and I’m losing you and I don’t know why — I dont know anything. — I just wanna know, wanna talk, wanna understand — I wanna fix this. I fucked up, I think, and I wanna make it better. — I need to talk to you — Please. Please can I come over 

Steve swallows hard, as he reads the incoming messages over and over again, watching the little bubble that says Eddie’s typing still. Watching as it disappears and reappears, reading until his eyes begin to sting and his vision is blurred with tears for the first time this week. 

Letting them fall as he types, 

— no. please dont 

Eddie doesn’t reply to that, and Steve breathes out long and hard, throwing his phone to the side, not caring where it lands on the couch as he slumps over to the other side, turning up the music even louder. 

Oh, can you tell I haven’s slept very well Since the last time that we spoke. I said, ‘Please understand I’ve been drinking again And all I do is hope.’

It consumes him, this song and the way it was written for him. The way it was written about him. Because he has no right to ask Eddie to stay. He’s the one who’s leaving. He’s the one not telling Eddie what is wrong, why he’s pulling back so suddenly. 

I’m not strong enough for the both of us. What was I supposed to do, You know I love you. Please, stay.

Please stay. Please, please, please stay. It’s about him. It’s about Eddie. About them. 

And Steve listens to it over and over again, not caring that his neighbours will know it by heart by know, will be so tired of him wallowing for weeks and months, and will come knocking soon. He doesn’t care, not when Mayday Parade are singing, All the love’s still there, I just don’t know what to do with it now. 

He types that into Eddie’s chat. Doesn’t hit send. Sends it to Robin instead, and gets a shaking hands emoji in return. It makes him smile as he re-starts the song. 

~*~

That night, he wakes around 2 a.m. to a missed call an hour ago and one new message on his mailbox. He lifts his phone to his ear with shaking hands and bated breath, a pit opening in his stomach when he hears the Judas Priest song that’s been in his Sad Eddie playlist since the beginning. 

His heart cracks open when he hears Eddie’s sniffle, a heavy sigh, and another sniffle, followed by a little, Fuck. 

“Stevie? I’m… You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to just— to just disappear. To slip through my fucking fingers, or float away like a— a dream, when you wake up, and you wanna go back to sleep because it was a good dream, and you— I don’t wan’ you to be a good dream Steve. You’re like… Fuck, man!” 

Eddie’s voice is breaking, and so is Steve’s heart as his hand begins to tremble and he sits up in bed, closing his eyes, squeezing them shut because he doesn’t want to see the world as Eddie’s rambling at him. 

“I miss you. I miss you so much, and I don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t… I don’t wanna miss you. How do I get you back, Stevie? Please just… God, please just talk to me. I’d do anything for you, you know that. Just tell me, just say the word. Just… Just say the word, please.” 

There’s silence after that, only Judas Priest’s Here come the tears over and over as the song is ending. Steve is crying as he listens to Eddie’s silence. 

“Just. Just… Please, Stevie.” 

The call ends then, the line cutting to the staticky voice instructing him to save or delete the message. Steve saves it. He doesn’t know why. 

He also doesn’t know why he’s scrolling through his contacts with trembling hands and hits Call when he reaches Eddie. 

The call doesn’t even get to the second ring before it’s picked up already. 

“Stevie?” Eddie sounds breathless, wild, and just a little hoarse. Like he was still crying. 

“Hi,” he says lamely, still shaking, a little breathless himself, and with absolutely no idea what he should say. 

“I’m… Hi.” 

Silence falls, and Steve wipes at his eyes. He’s still in bed, just sitting there with his phone pressed to his ear, and the ball that’s coiled inside him is growing larger and larger with each passing second that he doesn’t say Sorry, that he doesn’t say I miss you, too. That he doesn’t say I love you. 

“Can I come in?” 

He blinks, the question throwing him off his thought spiral. “Huh?” 

“I’m sort of… outside your building right now.” 

Why, he wants to ask. No, he wants to say. You’re gonna see, you’re gonna know, you’re gonna hate me forever. 

“Okay,” he breathes and climbs out of bed, blanket around his shoulders despite the summer heat, because suddenly he’s freezing. He buzzes Eddie in, listens to him on the phone as he walks up the stairs, neither of them thinking of hanging up, and opens his doors with shaking, trembling hands. 

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @imzadidragonfly @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae @tuesdaycats @totoroinatardis @ilovebookshowboutyou @musical-theatre-gay @theluckyalien @copingmechanizm @srra @changelingbaby @sassygoop @obsessivelyme @r0binscript (sorry if i missed anyone just give me a shout if i did <3)and thanks to everyone who said nice things about this 🤍🌷

come back tomorrow/later for [redacted] | read here

[vermilionsun]

It's me again, I heard the song that goes "get your filthy fingers out of my pie" and I had an idea for a prompt : How would the LIs react to a female MC that hate men ? (Due to trauma or due to the fear of being abused)

Anyway I hope you're having a great day ! xoxo

I hope these turned out good - I got so excited for this req 'cause Florence + the Machine are an all-time favourite of mine agbdvuqvfcujkscv

Tysm and hope you have an amazing day as well <3

Leander

🗡 Bad first impression of each other

🗡 Leander would likely be intrigued and possibly see it as a challenge

🗡 He might approach her with his usual charm but would quickly realize that his typical tactics won’t work.

🗡 He needs people to like him and wants to prove that he can change her opinion.

🗡 “I can fix her” type

🗡 At first, he'd likely try to understand the reasons behind her feelings, showing empathy and attempting to build trust.

🗡 He would do everything in his power to make her feel safe and respected, always being there to support her through her struggles, even if she's hesitant or resistant.

🗡 However, he'd also be mindful not to push her too hard or make her feel uncomfortable

🗡 e̶v̶e̶n̶ i̶f̶ h̶e̶ h̶a̶s̶ n̶o̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶

Vere

✦ Vere’d initially seem indifferent or playful about the MC's feelings, potentially teasing her in a light-hearted manner.

✦ That only lasts until he realizes the depth of her trauma/pain.

✦ Once he realises, Vere would become incredibly protective and supportive.

✦ Vere’s understanding of suffering would allow him to approach her in a more subtle way while getting to know her on a deeper level.

✦ He’d balance his teasing with moments of genuine care and concern, gradually showing her that he can be trusted.

✦ He's simply there to offer her company and support

✦ Vere would show her that she deserves nothing less than love and respect,

✦ hoping her heart may come to soften towards men, or at least, towards him.

✦ i̶f̶ n̶o̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ w̶o̶r̶k̶s̶, h̶e̶ c̶a̶n̶ a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ e̶a̶t̶ h̶e̶r̶

Ais

✩ Ais’d be respectful of the MC's boundaries from the start.

✩ Reserved and cautious

✩ He would approach her with a calm, steady presence, offering protection without demanding anything in return.

✩ Ais would likely focus on actions over words, demonstrating his trustworthiness and reliability until the MC feels safe enough to open up to him.

✩ He would create a safe space for her, knowing that trust is something that must be earned.

✩ He would patiently encourage her to express herself and share her experiences, knowing that growth requires vulnerability.

✩ He would listen attentively, offering support and comfort without judgment.

✩ He would respect her boundaries and let her set the pace for their interactions, always making sure she feels in control.

Kuras

✞ He'd be a bit taken aback and thrown at first.

✞ Assuming the hate comes from trauma, he'd be understanding, if a bit awkward about it to start.

✞ He would probably try to be friendly, but he's not going to go out of his way to do extra stuff for her, either.

✞ Patient and trying to respect her boundaries,

✞ but he might get annoyed at some point 'cause he'd want to get to know her and try to develop a good relationship.

✞ He is a man with enough trauma of his own, though, so at the end of the day he'd understand where it's coming from.

✞ He's very protective of people he cares about, and he'd probably start to worry that she'll be ostracized or attacked by people

✞ If she's a misandrist just for the sake of it, he's not going to deal with that

✞ He doesn't care enough to get angry, at least not outwardly, so he'll just stop trying to get close to her, and would ignore her/keep interactions to a minimum

Mhin

🕊 Mhin would be cautious and probably keep their distance from her

🕊 They would probably end up being a silent ally

🕊 On one hand, they keep their guard up and maintain a distance

🕊 On the other hand, they quietly observe her and look for any signs of distress or trouble, ready to intervene if necessary.

🕊 They’d be internally frustrated by their own actions, feeling conflicted about helping someone who harbors such a… strong dislike

🕊 They'd eventually try to approach her carefully, aiming to have a few conversations with her, asking open-ended questions about her past experience, thus allowing the MC to open up at her own pace and decide how much to share.

🕊 Brief and to the point

🕊 They'd keep any personal information or feelings hidden away

🕊 They might feel a sense of guilt, as if they had personally wronged her.

[peachetteprice]

A Hand for Radio | Simon "Ghost" Riley

Summary:

Ghost X Badass Reader (ft. Soap)

As requested by anon!

Content Warnings: Slight gore (mild), suggestive tones...

Word Count: 2.8K

You were not the sort to sit around and look pretty.

Those were both of the only available two ends of the argument.

You had a purpose, like every other schmuck on base, and you were not about to let anyone think otherwise. It was a damn shame that you had the appearance to promote the assumption, too, because there were many occasions when new recruits sauntered to your behind, shocked you with a dirty line or two, only to be met with the most disappointed expression they'd ever seen.

Sodding bastards never realised that the worst thing a woman could say was nothing at all.

Never mind that your boyfriend could have been there to give a stern word or two. He would have surely scared them half to death. (It would be too crass to make a comparison with his namesake, so it shall not happen.) That, and you often digressed to calling him 'mask', whenever you were in a hurry, which they could have only ever dreamt of - well, when the sun was up, at least - and was the very thing that made Simon chuckle over nothing during briefings, eventually leading to the security of your presence in his cot.

(Other, less digestible, names will not be mentioned.)

Regardless of that position, almost every boy on base had flirted with you, or at least tried their hand in your game.

Oh, come on, who wouldn't have done?

It was practically something of an initiation tactic.

You were quite the catch, nothing but a stunner in a crowd of muppets, and in such a testosterone-filled environment, there was no doubt that a chaste moment of eye candy - whether it be the round of your arse bent over to inspect one of the wheels before take-off, to ensure that the tread hadn't been scuffed flat, or the occasional hair-flip-turned-impromptu-ponytail that had every man above the age of twenty-two drooling over the sight of your neck and stretched temples - was enough to cement your presence as belle of the ball.

To the untrained ear, that might seem to dilute the prowess of your hand in the field. It must be a curse being admirable and capable, right? Unbelievable, almost? People must think you an imbecile. It would be all too easy to show them otherwise. Forget about continuous sine waves, spark coils, and electrons and their existence in magnetic fields within a simple transmitter circuit, and the effect this might have on directional compasses. But... if you said anything of that nature to them, it would have sent a rush of adrenaline to their - don't you dare - heads, and the poor things might have fainted from shame.

That wasn't to say that every man on base was worth less than a nickel of your time and dime, though. Not by a long shot. You were willing to cash in your attention for comraderie. Four of them were worth something, definitely, and a lot of something meant that they were immeasurably lucky to share the same field with you, and you; them.

Even if John "Soap" MacTavish was a bit of a knob.

Oh, MacTavish.

Sweet Scottish MacTavish.

He had a bit of a sore spot on his arse that day, probably too busy kissing others', as he was desperate for a friendly game of scarpering - something of another initiation tactic that he'd forced you to compete in when you first arrived. First to find, fix, or create a device (whether it be explosive, acted upon as a weapon, or communicational in utility) would be crowned winner of the field. He'd even made origami hats - they were boats, actually, but nobody, not even Simon, was going to dispel his excitement so dreadfully - for the finishing ceremonies, as something of a distraction after a mission.

Hell, it was not only exhilarating but made for a stunning pad to your resume of competencies. Beating a Scottish man with tendencies of vile language when bested at his own game? It would put you miles ahead of the crowd.

And, during a moment of downtime - as you monitored a rather grimy tower of flats in the boondocks of North Macedonia, wherein you had been stationed outside the premises beside an adjoining building for hours, until word from Laswell confirmed that a convoy of suspected Iraqi arms dealers were all, in fact, returned to the premises and therefore present, at which point you could enact an ambush on the occupants - did Soap carefully suggest something of a game.

"Absolutely not." Price grumbled over comms.

That was evident enough. He would never sign off on it - and he never had, even when the occurrence was all but inevitable, but it surely happened time and time again.

"Oh, come on, Cap. I'm gettin' a dead arse crouched in this doorway." Soap tutted. "Just one game. It'll be good for team-buildin', an' all tha'."

There was no residual need for team building, and Soap knew that.

Price huffed a breath through his nostrils - it came out more of a growl as it expelled beyond his throat. He wished to speak of keeping one's focus on the job, one's eye on the ball, one's head in the game, and any other turn of phrase that came to mind to convince Soap not to be a prick. But it was futile. Soap had the pester-power of a toddler on the brink of a meltdown in a Sainsbury's (and he was a prick) and - frankly, if he was to be honest with himself and the current state of his withering patience - he would have liked nothing more than to be relinquished from his irksome voice over comms. The man hadn't shut up since he woke from his cot that very morning - and there was no end in sight!

It might have been the only reason that he'd given in to Soap's pleas.

By the time the evening sun had caught the windowsill of the barn you were positioned behind - of which you were crouched below - and spread along the lower half of your body, the game was surely afoot. 

It took mere moments to gather a metal file - repurposed from the lid of a tanker of oil beside the corrugated rear of the barn (which you’d surely inform Price of, if not for its disturbing presence in an otherwise residential neighbourhood) - something from which to fashion a receiver and a transmitter through an attributing pile of wires - likely from a previous building that had been scrapped - copper coil and electronic scraps.

Negating the smarmy replies of Soap throughout - versions that hassled over your ability to do well and your affiliation toward losing, in degreeing intensities of Gaelic (and the occasional profanity) - you fashioned something of a radio, in its most basic form, and settled it beside you at the window ledge. With the size of its battery, and the strength of one silver coin - which was weak, to say the least - it could only pick through the static near a radio, never mind transmitting or receiving audio streams.

Hence, why, after a spot of bartering with Price and the odd word of caution from Simon (in which you convinced them both that it would, in fact, be useful to create, from scratch of a working radio, in case the one on your vest spontaneously ceased working and you became stranded from the boys in rural Southern Europe, a terrible plight, indeed), did you agree to adhere to attentiveness as you rounded the far wall of the barn.

Though it was nary a metre from the wall that you spotted the passing shadow of a person - of a man - cross through the rear property line between a silo and an enclosed warehouse, which were both South of the block of flats. He looked shifty. There wasn’t much to describe how or why he was, certainly not the reason for your suspicion for the matter, save for the singular glance he gave over his shoulder and the way he approached the building with a hunched stature, but you decided to follow nonetheless.

As he swept a wire fence out of his way that snagged at his wrist and pulled fibres from his jacket, you were able to catch the slightest glimpse of his face. No beard. No prominent features, albeit, however, the slimmest of scars running parallel to the curve of his eyelid, situated along his forehead. And that realisation called upon a memory of something Price had said, that morning in briefing. That one of the inferiors to the man you were all there to apprehend had a scar extending from his temple to mid-brow.

And he was right there, ignorant to your presence.

“Time to get back to Dodge, Sergeants.” Price murmured through the comms. “Laswell’s given us the all-green. Everyone has ex-auth., with respect to wanting the poor bastard alive. Ghost, convene at the barn with me. Gaz, you’re solo. Soap–”

“--With me, Scotsman.”

A slurry of solid-copy’s followed in tow, just as you, yourself, neared the wire fence. It was the all clear - the all clear to get your man, via whatever means possible.

And as you had tucked into your vest at your ribs, a silver blade, it seemed there was no other weapon fit for contender to be used towards the man’s demise. And, with no other contender, you snatched the blade, wrung the hand in your palm a few times until you found the right grip, and leapt through the wire fence.

Ten yards soon became two as the man’s gaze fretted through the barren air. He was waiting for someone. Something, if you were lucky. But it wasn’t the time to be waiting around to test it, so you crept forwards, low, lips pinched with apprehension. Don’t turn around, Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. 

Ten yards became five. And five, three. Three, two, your footsteps crunching in the grass. You were reaching the point beyond no return, with either victory in the death of a man’s gaze, or loss: your body in a ditch beside a silo and a warehouse somewhere in North Macedonia. Two yards became one, and with that, you arched your shoulder in preparation to pounce.

The man went down with the tonnage of a whale, and nothing more than a gargled moan befitting one as you plunged the knife deep within his jugular. He dropped, quick, and only struggled for a moment before you twisted the blade and, like a flicked light switch, his muscles collapsed, any prior semblance of life wept from his eyes, and his mouth fell slack open, jaw untensed. As you stood from his body to assess the damage - and see if there was a flap of fabric to wipe your blade on for the next poor sod - you noticed something in the grass beside the man, at his hip.

It was a USB stick.

There was no doubt about it as you ran your gloved finger along its edge, uncapped it to reveal short teeth and a protruding connector, and stuffed it into your breast pocket as carefully as it required.

In the end, the mission was, by all accounts, a success. Although, collectively, the man you were there for - the kingpin, the big fish, the leader - was not present, MacTavish had collected a fair number of blueprints to what seemed like an underground chasm of tunnels beneath a vast section of forestry between Macedonia and Albania, which would lend itself nicely to a spot of inter-border smuggling of contraband, which could now be intercepted at a later date, through Laswell’s extensive researchers.

Price and Gaz had both uncovered what seemed to be remnants of illegal oil distribution centre - thanks to your tip of the tankard beside the barn which - although minute in stake toward the mission and its efficacy - could be used to inform Laswell to possible trading routes and linkage between adjoining countries to track the movement of the fleet.

Simon (though not Simon and Simon, alone) had done away with his fair share of the Iraqis, contributing to a large number of them dead within the flats, and harboured information from at least three innocent residents, which cemented the notion that the mission was, all in all, worth the peril.

And, you?

You had that flash drive.

“I’ll be darned to see that device ye conjured up, lass. G’on, let’s see how ye’ve fumbled it.” Soap slumped into his seat - yes, his seat in the Condor and nobody else’s as he’d bagsied it months prior - and pulled from a tag on his vest what seemed to be the inner workings of an explosive device, notably unfinished.

“Oh, sweet Soap… fumbled it?” You queried, reaching for the radio you’d stitched together. Sure, its components were a little rusty, and it had nothing of a sleek plastic casing to protect its innards, but it was viable as a communication device, which met the only caveat of his game as it existed.

“It works?” Soap scowled.

“It does. Cross my heart.” You replied, and Simon gave the smallest chuckle from beside you before slinging an arm about the bottom of the seat, catching your hips as you sat back. “Poor MacTavish. Does your bomb not work yet?”

“It’s a rudimentary explosive device.” His lips clamped tight, and you thought for a moment that he would make a brilliant nerd if he lost that arrogance of his. “And it'd work if I had another wire, but the Captain talked us into battle too soon...”

You grinned. “Oh. Like one of these, Sergeant?” And stretched one of the radio’s guts out, not completely as to avoid severing the connection, just for emphasis and emphasis only (nothing of bragging, gloating, triumph…)

"Whatever." Soap frowned. "At least I got those papers. Pretty good, wann't I, sir?" Kinking his head toward Price.

Always the suck-up.

It made you want to wipe that smugness from his face. And there was no better way to do so than carefully fish from your pocket a one, white, succinctly intact USB flash drive.

You dangled it in the air and watched the team's gobs fall slack.

Price didn't look too happy - but it was worth it to hide the drive from him when they were looking at you like that.

And Soap's face... it dropped faster than a ballsack on a hot day.

"Forgot about this. Got it from that... Aboud guy. Whatever his name was."

"Saif Aboud?" Price questioned. His palm was in his beard, and the ire in his eyes could have sparked a fire in the lone wilderness, but you maintained that it was still worth it despite the slight insubordination.

Particularly as Soap, with a horrorified expression, quietly asked;

"Whilst we were playin' the game, lass?"

You tossed the drive to Price, who sighed and added it to the sealed collection of evidence, ready to be taken back to Laswell. "Well, there was nothing else to do. Thought I might as well while my time."

"Shit..." Gaz chuckled - any laugh from him was a sign of deep respect.

And at that, Simon caught your waist more fervently as you leant into him, caressing circles beneath the rib of your vest.

"Steamin' bloody Nora..." Johnny clamped his teeth over his bottom lip.

Simon careened down to your ear to tickle a 'that's my girl' which would later be replaced the whisper of his breath; his lips against your skin, cooing about how gorgeous you were for sticking it to the boys - even if he had quite the soft spot for Soap - without a care for their boyish pride.

There was silence then, and Soap looked sufficiently frazzled.

"Oi. Is - is--" Soap stammered. "Is no-one gonna talk about how she just--"

"--No, mate." Gaz clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Best just to leave it, innit? Come on. I think we all need a drink when we get back."

The team shared a unanimous nod. Nobody looked at you throughout the plane ride back to base quite how Soap looked at you. He spent the remaining journey flitting wary glances between the USB and you, with an expression that only served to boost the more arrogant corners of thought because it was, positively, with no semblance of doubt;

A look of incalculable fear.

| Masterlist |

[ken-dom]

3. Cold hands in warm hands

Lars (... or any of the Goose characters*swoons*) being warmed/warming up the reader after they have to be exposed to the cold.

Melts. My. Cold. Heart

Hand holding 3. cold hands in warm hands

Lars Lindstrom x gn!reader

∘₊✧ We have @heresthestorymorningglory to thank for clearing my head with this one. To quote her — ‘not to sound too much like Lars but…’ — and then she proceeded to resolve all my writers block 💕 sorry it took a while anon!

∘₊✧ Pure fluff! Please don’t take any advice from this about being cold or frostbite!!

∘₊✧────────────────✧₊∘

‘It’s better to warm yourself slowly. If you’re too quick you could go into shock,’ Lars said confidently. There was an air of concern that he tried to hide, but it showed in his eyes and it made your heart leap that he would worry about you.

You nodded dutifully, standing before him with hands frozen stiff, unused to the cold here and having spent too long outside without gloves, believing it wouldn’t bother you. Turned out it did bother you, quite a lot more than you’d realised it might.

So thank goodness you ran into Lars at the Lake. You trusted him with ease, never having doubted him a day since you first met.

‘It’s scientifically proven that…’

He trailed off, mumbling the last couple of words as though he regretted speaking at all.

You leant forward, waiting for whatever he was hesitating with, whatever could help you regain the feeling in your fingers and avoid frostbite.

‘Yeah, Lars?’ you prompted.

‘It’s nothing… uhm… here-’

He pulled off his gloves and immediately dropped to his knees, a dull almost silent thud in the snow, the pressure of his weight wetting his trousers on the surface of it without a care. He was entirely focussed on covering your hands with the gloves, forgetting himself along the way.

He was careful not to graze your bare skin with his as he slid them on, but when he stood, he took hold of your gloved hands and placed one on top of the other, sandwiched between his own, and rubbed slowly.

He was strong. You knew this, but now you could feel it, from the firm way he gripped your hands in his and the vigour with which he massages them, gentle and careful, but firm.

And his hands must be huge because yours feel tiny inside the gloves. The thought makes your cheeks burn.

‘It might take a while,’ he muttered, staring down at your hands. You could feel him trembling as he rubbed, now, too. ‘You’ll experience some pain, and some tingling most likely, before they’re warm enough to move your joints comfortably. That’s normal, though. Try not to worry, ok? You’ll be ok, I’ll make sure of it.’

‘Thank you,’ you breathed, voice shaky.

Lars’s head was dipped, but you could see the way his mustache moved and you knew he was smiling. He always liked to be useful.

‘Hey, Lars, what were you gonna say to me before?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Something that’s scientifically proven?’

‘Oh… well,’ he cleared his throat, ‘it’s scientifically proven that… in cases like this, skin to skin contact is technically more effective because it’ll warm you the fastest way while still being safe.’

‘Oh, ok.’

You know he couldn’t do that, that it would only cause him pain or in the very least, distress. He was already doing his very best to help you; you wouldn’t ask him to try.

‘I don’t mind giving it a go, if it’ll help you,’ he looked up at you from under those gorgeously long eyelashes, partly hopeful, partly scared.

‘I couldn’t ask that of you, Lars. Really. This is fine.’

‘It’s fine, but it’s not the most effective method and…’

He stopped rubbing your gloved hands, took a deep, steadying breath, straightened his shoulders, and looked you dead in the eyes as he gently pulled the gloves from your hands and let them fall to the ground.

Visibly trembling now, his hands moved tentatively toward yours.

‘Is this ok?’ he asked, eyes glittering with nervous energy.

‘Yes,’ you said simply. ‘As long as it’s ok for you.’

He nodded, chest heaving, his heavy breath creating a cloud in the frosty air between you.

And then his hands covered yours once again. This felt warmer, all encompassing… intimate. His hands covered yours completely, confining your theory that they must be big. It felt safe.

His breath hitched and you could have sworn a little whine escaped his throat.

Lars’s shoulders dropped and he began to rub with confidence again, warm palms sliding over the backs of yours hands, skin to skin.

‘Does that- f-feel… better?’

‘Yes, it feels good. You sure you’re ok?’

He felt a feint pain, burning somewhere in the background where your skin met his, but it was nothing compared to what he felt when he had touched, or been touched, by anyone else.

This was new. It was kind of nice. He never wanted to break apart.

He nodded, worried he might make an embarrassing sound if he tried to speak now.

‘The science was right,’ you huffed out a laugh, ‘it’s working. I feel so much better now, thank you Lars.’

He stopped rubbing, but he didn’t move away. He was frozen to the spot, hands clamped around yours.

‘Want to hold my hand and walk me home? Better make sure I’m not out here too long without protection against the cold again…’

Lars beamed at you. ‘Yes. Yes! Oh! Hold on…’

He let go and bent to pick up his discarded gloves from the fresh layer of snow.

‘Here — you wear one glove…’ he slipped a glove onto your right hand, ‘and I’ll wear the other,’ he slipped the other glove onto his left hand, ‘and we can hold hands with the other two to keep warm!’

You beamed back at him.

The fingers of his bare hand interlocked with yours so easily it felt like they were made to fit together. ‘It might be warmer if…’

‘Go on,’ you encouraged, squeezing his hand with yours.

He don’t answer but you saw the blush creeping over his cheeks. He guided your connected hands into the pocket of his coat.

‘There. Now let’s get you home.’