#so uh. it's nearly ready?

[sky-scribbles]

My agent, two years ago, completely unsuspecting of her danger: so pitch your book idea to me! Is it an introduction to what it means to be asexual and aromantic?

Me: well yes, but also no? I want to unpack how western society gives the message that having a single, monogamous, romantic and sexual relationship is not just the default state, but the only way for anyone to be happy

Her: ... go on

Me: The way people are led to think that getting a romantic partner will be their shield against ever being lonely. That everything in their life will get better once they have a partner.

Me: Also how men, in particular, are taught that nurturing physical touch is only acceptable and not 'unmanly' in a relationship with a woman, so they have to get a partner or never have gentle touch

Her: ...

Me: Oh and also the way anything non-normative is treated when it comes to sex? Did you know that in the UK, penetrative sex is basically the only kind of sex that counts as 'ordinary and complete' sex under the law?

Me: And. also. it's weird how we put all this emotional weight onto one person. A romantic partner is supposed to share your home, your finances, childcare, emotional support, a sexual relationship, they're meant to be your first port of call for everything, they're meant to be the person who provides your happiness.

Me: and I think about that all the time. because being aro, I have to share that weight among multiple friends and loved ones. I have to invest in more social connections.

Me: so really the book is about how much we limit ourelves when we think that sexual and romantic relationships are the only way to be happy

Me: and about how aroace people are social connectors.

Her: ...

Me: and also I might use Sherlock Holmes and Watson to explain what a QPP can look like. so there's that

(edit: people were asking for a link, so here it is! It's only in pre-order right now and there's no preview available yet; I'll try to update once they've sorted that.)

[arctic-hands]

The subject came up today and I can't decide so I'm throwing it out there because I don't give a fuck and also having survived all of this kinda makes me sound like a badass

[erythristicbones]

i keep having some points of feeling mildly guilty about scripting another webcomic after putting my old one on indefinite hiatus but. idk man, i think it's gonna really work out this time around. im hesitantly letting myself get excited for it

[makaylaloves-words]

Jason Todd thought his need for touch had died with him.

Part two!!

here’s part one

Pairing: Jason Todd x afab reader

TW: Loss of virginity (male), nsfw, pinv, religious imagery, body issues mentioned.

1.7k words

The sun comes dreadfully early. Bright butter yellow beams forcing Jason away from the oasis that is your embrace. You kiss his forehead then head to get ready for work. You start your usual routine, unaware of his recurring thoughts. Usually, he will wake up a little slower then go to make breakfast while you get ready. Today he lingers like the last bits of snow as winter fades into spring.

He watches you come out of the bathroom after your shower, music still playing from your phone. Music he will never admit to liking but listens to when he misses you. Your perfect skin slightly damp as you put on that lotion that makes him want to take a bite out of you.

Clad in only your underwear and bra, hair up in a towel, you pick your outfit for work and start on your makeup. Humming and dancing to your music. He stands.

He’s silent as he approaches, a huge sleepy figure looming behind you.

“Hi” you chirp, rubbing lotion into your skin.

“I want to have sex with you.”

You slowly turn, eyes wide. “Well good morning to you, too.” he swallows but doesn’t back down.

“I kinda have work” you blink.

“I- I didn’t mean right now. Just soon.” he says and your heart picks up. “Okay, honey, soon.”

You step closer and lift on your toes to peck his cheek. You let your hand linger on his bare chest, his hips against you in a way you can feel as hard he is. It gets you drunk on power to know how little it takes for you to do that to him.

Four nights later, it’s the usual routine but something’s off. He goes out on patrol for a few hours and you get finish up some work and make dinner. You eat together then he showers while you wind down. You’ve been dating over a year so naturally you’ve seen eachother naked but he’s always been a little secretive about his body. That’s why you’re very surprised when he walks into your bedroom in just his towel around his waist. Raven hair still damp and water droplets clinging to the scared tissue of his muscled chest. As anyone would eyes would, you give him a good stare down. He looks.. nervous.

“Something wrong?” you finally say.

“Now.” he says

“Now.. what?” your head tilts

He looks away, swallowing in embarrassment.

“I want to have sex.”

Oh.

Oh.

“I- uh right now?” you nearly laugh. You have been on a dry spell ever since you started dating Jason so honestly just him shirtless has got you hot and bothered but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I’ve made you wait this long” he nods and steps towards the bed. you stand, arms looping around his neck like a perfect ribbon. “You’ll help me know what to do?” he whispers and you smile ���of course.”

Turns out you really have to tell him what to do. You don’t know if you pity the guy or are proud because he’s clearly never watched porn or anything of the sort.

“Just kiss me firs-” you instruct and before you can finish the words his lips are on yours. He’s grown a lot in his kissing ability. From small pecks on your forehead to now as he tangles his tongue with yours. Jason hooks his arms under your thighs and lifts you with practiced ease. Your legs wrap around his hips and his hands hesitantly inch towards the back of your thighs. You nod against as your mouth works on his and his hands slide to grip your ass, holding you to him. He groans.

The towel is slipping off his hips and you can feel an anticipation that you haven’t felt in so long coursing through you, straight to your gut.

“Are you sure about this? You can change your mind.” you say, pulling back. your chest is heaving and you know his answer as he licks a stripe up your neck.

He slowly steps forward, setting you on the bed and looking at you like you’re a goddess who just offered him immortality. “Do i sit down or-“ he bites his lip and you giggle. “We can just do missionary.” he blinks in confusion. “i’ll lay down” you add, stripping your shorts and scooting back on the bed.

You strip your shirt and look up. He’s staring at you in a way you’ve seen very few times. He’s flushed, pupils dilated and hands gripping the towel on his hips so hard his knuckles are white. “Um you come over here now” you swallow as he drops the towel and crawl towards you.

For a long time, Jason thought he was disgusting. A foul ugly creature who rose from the dead and doesn’t deserve a single thing he has. You, however, have never understood this. He is beautiful. Greek god level. You can feel the arousal on your thighs as you bite your lip.

He leans down and kisses you again, hard length pressed against your bare stomach as you start taking off the rest of your clothes.

It’s a charming process in the way that it’s kinda clumsy. You haven’t done this in a while and well Jason’s literally a virgin so it takes you a couple tries to get your bra and underwear off.

He breaks the kiss to look down at you. Eyes trialing over your breast as he rests his hands on your ribcage. “You are beautiful” he whispers and you smile shyly. “You too” he blushes.

Both naked as the day you were born, he gulps “So do i just-“

“pretty much”

He gives himself a few strokes, dark lashes fluttering before he leans to you and presses against you. An inch in and he bites his lips. “God” he whines and you smile. he’s larger than most and you revel in the stretch as he pushes more.

“Oh i understand now” he mutters, hands fisting the sheets by your head.

“Understand what?” you say with a small whimper.

“Why people enjoy this so much” he cuts his words off with a moan as he pushes in a bit more.

With a final gasp from him, he’s all the way in and he swears he’s in heaven. He’s never been a very religious person but if there is a god then it is you and this fucking pussy. He groans, hands gripping the sheets beside your head as your hands delicately grasp his wrists.

“You can move” you say quietly, eyes loving as you look up at him.

“I-“ he should move. he knows he should but he is already close to coming and he doesn’t wanna come that fast. You’re just so warm and wet and tight and- oh no.

no no no.

you shift your hips, forcing his dick to rock in and out of you. It barely even moves. “Fuck, no—sto—"

Jason grunts. Chokes on it. 

you do it again, just the softest roll of your hips. “Baby, you don’t understand” he groans, arms shaking beside your head. “It’s okay” you coo, “it’s normal just- please” he swallows. yes he didn’t want to be the guy who blew it like a two pump chump but it’s true he wanted you to feel good to. god, he wants that more than his own pleasure. So, he moves.

A small thrust, just the last 2 inches coming out and in but he whines and turns his head away. You smile, “Hey. look at me, pretty boy”. he groans and looks down at you. god you look like a fucking angel.

He’s nearly drooling as he shudders and thrusts a few more times. Then he stops, “What are you doing?” he gulps.

You blink up at him. It’s true your hand had snaked down and drew a few circles around your clit but that was not a crime.

“I-“

“Show me how.”

“What?”

“That thing you’re doing. Feels good? Show. me. how.” Jason’s words would sound like a demand if he wasn’t bright red and pussy drunk. And instead of getting all butt hurt, he’s asking you to teach him and-

—and oh, isn’t your heart melting into a puddle.

You gently take one of his hands off the sheets next to him and guide his thick calloused fingers to your clit. “Just- circles or press a little.” you say, words cutting out with a moan when he rubs your clit. good to know he was a fucking natural. His eyes are glued to where his cock is pressed into you and he gulps before continuing his ministrations on your clit. Then he thrusts at the same time. You both moan in sync and he smiles, “‘m doing good? I’m not gonna last much longer, baby.”

You nod, simply letting him now it’s okay. A few more thrusts and he is shaking. Eyes closing as he gulps.

“Can i-.. in you?” he mutters.

“Yes.” you say calmly, chest heaving.

He buries his face in the warm crook of your neck, a bright flush over his scared skin. Then he’s coming and- “I love you” he groans and you pause.

“what?”

he’s only half conscious as he spurts into you. eyes rolling back as he gasps. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. I’m in love with you, have been for a while.”

you blink “i love you too, Jay.”

He keeps his head buried in your neck but he slowly trails some kisses along your jaw in response. His hand speeds up on your clit as he keeps pumping his slowly softening cock. After a few moments he sits back up, eyes hazy, “you haven’t- should i try again?” you laugh.

“Just give me a minute, love.” your hand snakes down and you lay your fingers on his, helping his finger your clit in that way that had you sparking. You tighten around him and he swears he’s seeing stars. “Fuck” he pulls out of you, grunts turning into a self satisfied smile when you come. You aren’t super loud or anything but he swears it’s the most beautiful melodic thing he has ever seen.

When you come down from your high, he’s laying half on top of you. You can feel his heartbeat thunder against yours, as if merging together—erratic and unsteady. “You did so good” you kiss the top of his head. “You too” he teases.

you have officially deflowered the great jason todd.

thank you for all the support! this is my first time really writing and i’m having a very fun time. i’m kinda new to tumbler so let me know if i’m doing this tag list wrong, lol.

@theendofthematerialgworl @nwjsns @anamiranda7383 @vicky342 @jayskookies @cyberangel-graphics

[joonberriess]

t h e b o y i s m i n e

⋆ TAGS — mean!jk, heavy degradation, sub!oc vibes, fingering, creampiess, pussy eating, oc is super sensitive hehe, cock warming in the car, ass play(?), intense cow girl moment, dirty talk, mentions of squirting(?), messy sex, oc is cunty (CUNT CUNT CUNT), RED MF FLAGS, jk ain’t shit and neither is oc, mentions of cheating, possessive!oc don’t play about her bestie, joon n oc moment bc why not, she’s lowkey a bimbo, jk likes mocking oc, nasty sex, jk’s a simp for his bestie, oc whines a lot lol, 4liferrrsssss, oc messy asf but jk is too

⋆ WORD COUNT — 6.2 k

‘Something’s not right.’ Is what Sujin begins to think right off the bat when her boyfriend brings her to meet his “best friend”. Sujin already knew that Jungkook had a “girl” best friend wayy before she even talked to the man. All her friends were against it when she told them she was interested in Jungkook.

“No girl, you’re gonna regret it like big time. That man is going to have you looking like a fool.” They’d say but Sujin seemed hard of hearing..

Sujin knew what she was getting into but nothing could have prepared her for the hot piping mess being served in front of her face. For fucks sake her boyfriend couldn’t even fucking sit next to her because he chose to sit with “y/n”. Sujin wants to think it’s a childhood thing, maybe that’s why they’re so unnaturally close.

“Oh.” Sujin says when y/n tells her that no, they in fact met almost two years ago as college freshmans. (Sujin’s beginning to run out of ideas to make up in her head so she doesn’t go insane over the sight of you casually touching her boyfriend and Jungkook letting it happen?) Jungkook even helps separate your perilla leaf with his chopsticks.

What are you a child? Sujin’s NOT liking this so far.

“So,” Sujin smiles as politely as she can muster, “how’d you guys meet?”

You smile softly back at her, “My brother has a frat house and Jungkook happened to join, we only met cause my brother was forcing his frat guys to help me move into my new apartment. He made them do it shirtless which was pretty funny.”

Sujin nods slowly, “Ohh.. how nice. So like you guys started hanging out or what’s the deal?”

Jungkook shrugs, “I saw her manga books and we bonded over that,” he keeps it curt, like he’s not interested in talking to her (his own girlfriend), “we started chilling and yeah.” Sujin fucking hates when he talks to her like he’s bored already.

“He kept saying I reminded him of Bayonetta!” You pipe back in with a dreamy smile.

“Uh-huh, Bayonetta..” Sujin clears her throat and shifts around in her seat, “Uhh well, I think it’s getting a bit late no? Kinda time for me to get going.”

You purse your lips in a soft pout and nod at her, “I see.. I hope to see you again, you’re really nice and pretty.” You coo, “Jungkookie’s super lucky to have you,” Sujin appreciates your sincerity but she’s not so sure if she can look past how close you are with her boyfriend.

“You didn’t bring your car didn’t you?” Jungkook suddenly says, “C’mon I’ll drive you.” He rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you take.

Sujin’s jaw nearly drops as HER boyfriend slings your purse over his shoulder and helps you up, guiding you out of the booth by a hand to your back.

“Jungkook.” Sujin snaps, “I think she’s got it don’t you think?” Her boyfriend turns to look at her, and proceeds to give her the meanest fucking mug ever. Like if she had the audacity to ruin whatever the fuck was happening in front her. “What?” Sujin raises a brow.

You look up at Jungkook with those stupid puppy eyes of yours, “I can call an uber no biggie.” You say softly.

“Hey, since our meeting was cut so short, how bout I pay for it, yeah?” Sujin smiles while whipping her phone out and pressing ‘request’, like she didn’t have that ride ready to order.

Jungkook does that thing when he’s pissed where he pokes his tongue inside his cheek, he has the audacity to have a staredown with her but Sujin doesn’t back down. “..Yeah, I’ll walk you out then y/n.”

“It was nice meeting you.” You softly say while hugging Sujin tightly before waltzing out the door with Jungkook’s hand over your hip.

Sujin has to pinch the bridge of her nose, on one hand you’re the sweetest thing ever but c’mon you can’t be THAT dense can you? Sujin would have liked you in another world where you weren’t trying to get with her boyfriend.

Sujin looks out of the window and sees Jungkook leaning against the car door while you slip into the back. He’s telling you something and you’re looking at him like he’s hung the fucking stars or something. Luckily nothing happens and Jungkook closes the door before stepping back to watch the car take off.

“Fucking prick.” Sujin mutters under her breath as she steps out with a pissed look. “What the fuck was that Jungkook, huh? You gonna sit there and lie to my face and tell me not to worry about her? Answer me.” She lightly hits his arm.

Jungkook sighs deeply, “What? Fuck are you on right now, the night was going so good I don’t see the problem here.”

His nonchalant attitude makes her seethe even more, “Jungkook, she has no fucking boundaries and you don’t seem to give a shit about that, I’m the GIRLFRIEND here but this fucking turned into me meeting you two instead of her meeting me. It’s fucking humiliating watching her put hands on my boyfriend and worse that you chose to sit with her.”

“And yet you knew I was friends with her. Literally that’s everything everyone’s been telling you before I brought you here to meet her, be prepared for how close y/n is with me. This isn’t brand new to you Sujin.” Jungkook replies while fishing a cigarette out of his pocket.

Sujin watches in disbelief as he lights it and takes a drag like nothing, “That doesn’t make it okay for her to do that though. Close or not I don’t give a fuck Jungkook, you’re either with me or you’re not.” She snaps, “So tell me now before I waste my fucking time.”

Jungkook takes his sweet time, puffing away as he watches the smoke disappear into the night sky, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Sujin tilts her head, “Okay, what?”

“It’s over.” And just like that Sujin’s jaw drops for real this time, she’s utterly gagged into silence as she watches her (now) ex-boyfriend stomp out the cigarette before turning to her with a sinister look in his eye, “Bye.” He passes without as much as a glance, leaving her silent.

Sujin turns her head and watches him leave, “What the fuck.” She whispers.

.

(Not even an hour later.)

“Okay, this one or this one?” You held up two different babydoll dresses—one white with delicate frills, the other silk but more of a bodycon-type but it had a cute bow on it so why not.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flick up from his phone, he stares at both of the dresses for a cool minute before nodding his head, “The white one.” He leans back with one arm on the bed and both legs spread apart (gosh him and his manspreading).

“I thought so too!” You happily say and carelessly toss it into the pile of clothes lying in your open suitcase, “Okay now help me decide between my sneakers or my ballet flats?” He doesn’t even answer cause he’s busy laughing at something on his phone.

“Jungkooookkk,” you huff irritably but this man does not look up. He just toys with his stupid lip ring while smiling down at his screen.

You let the shoes hit the ground as you quietly saunter over, slipping right into his lap with practiced ease. He doesn’t react because this is an all too familiar scene for him. He hooks his arm around your waist and tucks his chin over your shoulder, still scrolling mindlessly. “What’s up? Hm.” He murmurs.

“I needed your help choosing which shoes I should take.” You hide your face in his neck and lay one tiny kiss on it, “You’re mean.”

“Am I?” Jungkook brings you down with him when he slowly lays back on the bed. He tosses his phone somewhere and rests his arm behind his head. His free hand strokes your backside, cheekily stopping right above your ass before repeating.

Your hands settle over his toned stomach where his shirt has ridden up revealing his beautiful physique underneath. His damn Calvin Klein boxers hug him just right too, hanging low over his hips where a small amount of hair leads down…you know where..

“Mm-hm, ‘s not nice to ignore me.” You nod with a dreamy look, pillowy lips pursed (which make them much more alluring in Jungkook’s humble opinion).

Jungkook hums again and runs his hand over your ass, landing small little pats of appreciation here ‘n there, “It isn’t huh,” he trails off quietly while tattooed fingers make work of the bow tied around the front of your shorts.

You shake your head and come down so that you’re chest to chest with Jungkook, face leveled with his as the two of you stare into each other's eyes. “No,” you softly say, nimble fingers creeping under his shirt to trail up his middle with light feathery touches.

“No.” He softly mimics in a high-pitched tone that’s meant to sound like you, “You’re so fuckin’ cute, but you might wanna get a move on though cause the guys are gonna be here any minute now ‘n you don’t want them to come in and see what a desperate little thing you are? No huh,” he mock pouts while tapping your cheek.

“You’re mean! I’m not talking to you for ten whole minutes.” You huff angrily and get off his lap, “Stop laughing, it's not funny.” You’re whining again before you can even stop yourself. It makes him double over in laughter, shoulders shaking and all too.

“My bad, my bad, I didn’t realize you were still upset over the shoes.” He chuckles while sitting back up with messy hair, “C’mere I’ll make it better.” He waves his hand, “C’mere! I’m not joking!” He laughs because you look at him incredulously.

You fold your arms over your chest and turn away, “No, I have to pack remember?” You’re shoving clothes into your suitcase with a quiet huff.

“Yeah, yeah.” You don’t even notice when he comes up behind and hauls you up into his arms. Jungkook tosses you on the bed like nothing causing you to yelp in surprise as your body bounces off the mattress a little, “If I give you a kiss will you quit your fuckin’ pouting?” He smirks.

You nod vigorously, “I want one here, here, and here.” You tap different areas on your face.

“I said one, not fucking five,” he snorts while peppering your face in small smooches regardless because he could never resist a pretty girl like you, “dumb little thing you are.”

“They don’t count as real kisses.” You smugly reply.

Jungkook smirks, “Oh, and what does hm? Give your Jungkookie a kiss and show me.” Without hesitating you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his.

You’re lips locked, softly moaning as he kisses the fuck out of you. It’s the way his lips glide over yours so smoothly like you’re meant to be kissing. All you can really do is dreamily sigh while his tongue runs over the seam of your lips. Of course you let him in and the kiss gets filthier if possible.

You feel his hand slide up your back slowly until he’s hooking his finger under the strap of your flimsy sleep top. He watches in hunger as your tit slips out from under the top, perky nipple already hard as he leans down to wrap his lips around it. The pleasure is hot when his tongue presses down on the bud, he has you whimpering quietly while burying your fingers through his hair.

“Mmm–Jungkook, wait,” you breathlessly sigh while pushing his face away, “Sujin.” You softly say while playing with his hair, “What ‘bout her?”

Jungkook stares back up at you through hooded eyes, “Who?” He replies to which you grin back, “Hm, just let me enjoy your tits in peace.” He crudely mumbles before taking your nipple back into his hot mouth.

He fondles and squeezes your other tit while sucking on your rather sensitive teat. The heat between your legs is unbearable, Jungkook knew damn well why you hated having your nipples played with yet he carried on without a care. Your poor clit throbbed from neglect and your pussy was slicking up by the second, you fear a glob would slip out if he dared to switch your positions.

“J-Jungkook..!” You huff and press your thighs together hoping to alleviate some of the heat.

He pinches hard causing you to whine, it doesn’t stop him because he’s then using a hint of teeth on your sensitive bud. “Oh..!” Your mouth falls open and your back arches off the bed, thighs shaky and wobbly.

Jungkook pulls away with a string of slick connecting to your nipple, “Turn over baby,” he smacks your ass hard and jiggles your cheek, “arch that pretty back for me, yeahh like that—low.” He darkly comments while watching you turn over with your hips raised high and front flat to the bed.

He shuffles around and gets behind you holding you steady with a hand to your hip. “Pull ‘em to the side,” he says while lazily pushing his sweats down, shoving them low enough till they’re right under his balls, “How desperate are you, hm? How bad do you want this cock baby?” He grins while slapping the tip through your dewy sticky folds.

You bite your lip and reach behind you to hold yourself open for him, “Bad, need it so bad Jungkookie..feel so empty without it.” You pout while pushing back until his cock gets trapped between your thighs, the thick shaft pressing right up against your throbbing little clit.

“Yeah?” Jungkook licks his lips, “Gonna let me have it?” He murmurs as his cock slides through the mess between your thighs, globs of slick coating the shaft.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod.

“Mm-hm.” Jungkook smirks as he lands a rough smack to your ass, “Push me in baby.”

You reach back to rub his cock through your folds, tapping the tip against your needy hole until it catches. Your breath hitches as the tip pops in, he doesn’t make a move to shove himself deeper or anything—he stays perfectly still.

“Jungkook!” You turn to glare back at him, “S-Stop teasing me.”

“I’m not doing anything, if you want it you know what to do.” Jungkook grins while biting his lip, “You know what I wanna see baby, don’t play dumb.”

You grumble under your breath and slowly push your hips back until your ass meets his pelvis. There’s a low squelch as the rest of his cock slips in and as much as you would’ve loved for him to fuck you, this was also good. You pant hotly into the pillow and wiggle around with soft little ‘mm’s as Jungkook rubs his hand over your hip and holds you steady.

“There you go, bring it back for me,” he huskily mumbles while watching the ripple of your cheeks jiggle each time your ass meets his pelvis.

Little clapping noises begin to rise subtly as your pace gets quicker and quicker. You meet him thrust for thrust, there’s a low fopping sound as his balls make contact with your puckered lips, pressing right up against you each time you bottom out.

Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the sight of your pretty pink rim hugging his cock tight each time he backstrokes. His cock is covered in a sheen of slick and he swears every time he pushes back in he comes back out with more.

“So messy,” he lays his thumb over your other puckered hole, “hear that?” He grunts, “Sloppy lil cunt taking me so well, got you creaming for me.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches when his thumb accidentally slips through the tight barrier and into your ass. You loudly mewl and buck your hips in surprise, it doesn’t hurt but it feels weird..weird in a good way though.

“Oh, you like that don’t you?” He licks his lips, “Baby loves having her holes filled up doesn’t she?”

You moan in response and bury your face in the pillow with muffled cries. The pleasure shoots up your spine and has you curling in on yourself. Your cunt throbs like crazy now and everything somehow feels ten times better than before.

“Answer me.” Jungkook slaps your cheek rather hard.

“Mmph–y-yes..!” You whimper despite the pillow being in your mouth.

“Yea,” he laughs as he suddenly snaps his hips up, “you love it don’t you? Can’t get enough of this cock.” He plows into you with repeated thrusts, each one jostling you up the bed and sending you into a pleasure hazed mind.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as Jungkook grips you by the hip with one hand and slams you back onto his cock. Your toes curl from the intensity of his cock slamming into your g-spot while his thumb fills your ass. The heat coiling in your tummy has you squirming and whimpering.

“Too much? Where you goin?” You don’t realize you’re actively moving away from him till his cock threatens to slip out, “You can take it baby, don’t run.” He laughs low while dragging you right back onto his cock.

In fact he follows you down till you’re laying flat on the bed and his thumb slips out of your puckered hole, “Gonna cum? Hm?” He lays flat over your back and hooks his chin over your shoulder, “C’mon, don’t go stupid on me.” He smacks your cheek gently a couple of times.

“Yes..!” You gasp breathily, “S-So, so close..” Your voice sounds wobbly and garbled, and the shaking in your thighs doesn’t stop.

Jungkook coos, “So close,” he buries his face in the side of your neck and leaves marks of his own there, “go on, cum on this dick.”

Your lips part and you let out a high-pitched mewl, your pussy spasms around him with your cunt squeezing and massaging his cock. Your eyes slip shut and you slump against the bed with a whine, the orgasm took the life out of you.

“Fuuckk,” he sighs as he slows down, grinding his cock in and out of the mess between your thighs, “good girl,” he groans softly until he comes to a stop and stills.

His cock throbs and twitches, spurt after spurt of cum filling you to the brim. You can feel some of it slide out with globs of your own slick. Jungkook hums deeply and gives your ass a pat of appreciation, “Shower?” He asks softly.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod still face down in the sheets.

“Mm-hm.” Jungkook copies while laughing to himself as he slips out of your cunt with a lewd squelch. You don’t even have the energy to fight with him right now, you’re just ready for bed at this point.

+

You can’t help the little yawn that escapes as you turn your face to tuck yourself into Jungkook’s side. Whose idea was it to take a roadtrip to Busan, you don’t know but you’re barely even awake after that rough fucking.

You and Jungkook had opted to sit in the back away from everyone and enjoy each other’s company instead. Jungkook’s hand came to rest over your thigh like that’s his permanent spot.

So far the ride is peaceful, Yoongi’s managed to successfully get you all out of the city and onto the highway (thanks to Namjoon’s excellent navigation skills). In front of you Jimin’s knocked out while Taehyung watches something on his phone. Namjoon’s talking with Yoongi about something you can’t bring yourself to care for.

You can feel your eyelids getting heavier by the second and it feels like you’re about to slip into the best sleep ever when Jungkook stops you. Not literally, but it still feels like it with the way he slides his hand up your bare thigh.

“Hm?” You sleepily look up wondering what on Earth he was up to now.

Jungkook pats you, “C’mere, want you on my lap baby.” He mutters as quietly as he can.

You rub your eyes and slip yourself on to his lap, tucking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing your thighs on either side of him. God bless that you chose to wear your thin sleeping shorts and slutty juicy sweater, Jungkook can just about feel your perky tits through the soft material.

“Shh.. not a peep or else I’m gonna gag you with your panties.” He mumbles low in your ear, stroking over your back to keep you calm.

“Jungkookie–”

“Jungkookie needs you to shut the fuck up, can you do that for me?” He squeezes your ass and kneads both cheeks rather roughly, “Good girl.”

“If they look, I’m not stopping. So if I were you I’d keep quiet baby, unless you want Joon and them to know how much of a cock hungry slut you are.”

He sounds so fucking calm but his words are the complete opposite, you find yourself holding in your desperate whines. “Can you..?”

“Can I what?” He slips his hand under your shorts and tugs it to the side alongside your panties, “Hm?”

You bite your lip and lift your hips, “Want something in me, I feel so empty Kook..” You breathe out and wrap your arms around his neck.

Through the drowsiness you faintly make out his soft curses as he whispers under his breath. Jungkook pokes at your slit and slips his fingers through your messy folds.

“Take my cock out,” he mumbles and you happily reach between the two of you to slip your hand into his sweats.

His cock throbs when your soft hand wraps around it, he has to bite his lip when you dig your thumb into the slit and swipe over the messy head. “Don’t tease..” He grunts with a small sharp smack to your ass.

You lift your hips and with his help manage to slip his cock through your dewy folds. You blindly slap the tip against your slicked up hole, the tip catching on your rim.

“Slow,” he sounds calm and collected but the way he swallows harshly tells you otherwise.

You bite your moans back and push yourself until your ass is meeting his thighs. The heat in your belly pools and your poor clit throbs. Is it you or the car feels hotter?

You hide your face in his neck and suck over old and new hickeys you’ve left these past days. Jungkook relaxes into the seat and sighs, luckily it doesn’t sound like it’s out of the ordinary.

“You can sleep now.” Jungkook off-handedly mumbles while closing his eyes, leaving you utterly speechless. You’re not entirely surprised given his little track record of being mean and shit.

“G’night..” You softly mumble and kiss his cheek, you lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Maybe if you’re a good girl he’ll make you cum later on..yeah, that sounds amazing, you smile in your sleep and drift off into dreamland with a cunt full of cock.

.

“So hot..” You softly mumble while fanning yourself with a make-shift fan.

Everyone but Namjoon went out today to explore the town and shit. You opted to stay back and wait for the sun to die down to go out later. Namjoon said something about keeping you company so you didn’t mind.

Here you are laying on the ground with your legs thrown up on the couch over Namjoon’s lap. Your pretty babydoll dress rides up your thighs and you occasionally catch Namjoon’s gaze drifting down. What a sight is it to see—veiny big hands plastered over your soft ankles toying with your cherry charm anklet.

“Namjoon, if penguins are related to the bird family, how come they can't fly?” You softly say while looking at him through your lashes.

“I dunno,” He shrugs while stroking over your foot, “environmental and evolutionary reasons maybe?”

You pout and tilt your head back to watch the TV, “I think they’re cute.”

“Why don’t you find one and give it a kiss then?” Namjoon smirks in amusement, “Maybe Jungkookie can save you if it tries to attack you or something.”

“Not funny.” You whine kicking your sock-clad foot at him, but he catches it and tugs on your foot.

You squeal softly as he ends up dragging you upwards just a tiny bit, “Owie let go, you’re squeezing my freaking bone.” You giggle.

Namjoon lets your foot go with a laugh, “My bad, my bad.” He raises his hands in surrender, “You can tell your Jungkookie to kiss it all better when he comes back yeah?” He grins.

“Ugh you’re also mean.” You huff while sitting up feeling light headed cause you were laying on the ground for so long. “You and Jungkook.” You mumble and climb onto the couch with him.

Jungkook finds you two like that. You’re tangled up with Namjoon side by side, legs thrown over his lap as he strokes over your soft thigh. Namjoon’s mindlessly scrolling through his phone and you’re just you watching some animal documentary on the TV.

“Hey.” Jungkook greets while falling on another sofa.

“Back already,” Namjoon hums, “where’s the others?”

“Out, they went to the beach cause Jimin wanted to go. It was fuckin’ hot so I came back, we didn’t do much but walk around the tour shops and shit.”

You lift a leg in the air to admire your pretty anklet, “Did you bring me anything?” You softly ask.

“Yeah, it’s in the bag.” Jungkook replies calmly as he fishes his phone out and does whatever the hell he usually does on that thing.

With both men preoccupied with their phones you decide to head outside to sunbathe. God bless the airbnb for having a private pool. “Where you going?” Jungkook mumbles, not looking up from his screen.

“Sunbathing.” You curtly reply and head outside through the large patio doors.

It’s hot as hell but you don’t care as you kick your socks off and strip out of your babydoll dress. You happily lay your towel out on the grass and set up a mini umbrella. Once you're happy with your setup you lay on your back and slip your heart shaped glasses on.

You can hear Namjoon and Jungkook talking in the background faintly, something about Sujin but you honestly don’t bring yourself to care much. Along the lines Jungkook mentions Sujin texting him again, Namjoon says “oh shit really” and then Jungkook tells him everything.

“..giving… chance… again..?” You can’t make out the entire convo. You crack a slow smile and turn over on your belly, legs kicked up and your feet in the air as you call out to the boys.

“Can someone bring me my phone?” Your voice soft and velvety, you slip your glasses up on your head and flutter your lashes, “Please?”

Jungkook stops talking and looks over the coffee table before stepping out with your phone in hand. “Look at you all cute and shit, enjoying your sunbathing?” Jungkook asks as he squats down in front of you.

“Yep, it’d be funner if you and Joonie joined me though.” You softly hum while tilting your head up and letting Jungkook lay a kiss over your soft lips.

“Yeah..?” He murmurs low. It’s glaringly obvious you have this man wrapped around your little fingers. It’s like you didn’t even have to try with him.

“I’ll be right back.” He says and disappears into the house.

You roll over on your back with a satisfied smile, slipping your glasses back on as you hum, “The boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him,”

+

Maybe Jungkook’s the one trying you right now. It’s not even nine am yet..

Your thighs encase his head like a pair of soft earmuffs, he’s got his tongue dipped between your messy folds with your pussy stuffed in his face. Jungkook doesn’t seem to care though, he’s got his strong big arms wrapped around your thighs as he holds you down and makes you take it.

Your clit’s just as sensitive as every other part of you, and Jungkook just loves to make you shake. He traces the tip of his tongue over your sensitive bud, flicking it back and forth with quick strokes. It has your lips parting and your head leaning back from the cloudy pleasure.

“Oh..” You roll your hips upward into his eager mouth, something that greatly pleases Jungkook.

He slips his tongue lower and flicks it upward to get a taste of all that creamy slick gushing from your empty cunt. You slap a hand over your mouth and whimper when he goes back to your poor clit. This time though he wraps his lips around it and gives it a harsh, mean suck.

Jungkook flicks his dark eyes up to look at you, just watching as you lose yourself on his tongue. The way your tummy goes taut and your body stiff when he grazes his teeth over your clit sends a dark thrill down his spine. He wants to see more, so he’s going to get more.

“J-Jungkook!” You cry out as he stuffs his fingers knuckle deep into your pussy.

There’s a loud squelch each time he slaps his fingers up into your greedy cunt. Your pussy’s literally leaking as small dribbles of squirt oozes out with each passing second. You’re shaking, thighs struggling to stay open and not clamp down on his head. Your lower half shakes slightly from his rough movements and your pussy makes these nasty wet sounds.

“Wait,” you sob and reach down to grip his hair, “ ‘m so close..! P-Please, please,” you’re not sure what you’re begging for—go, stop?

The heat in your tummy builds quickly and you’re teetering on the edge of a powerful orgasm when he suddenly stops. All at once both his fingers and mouth are gone as he pulls away while harshly panting. You can’t even complain but the intensity has your heart racing with excitement and fear.

“Okay?” He quietly asks while stroking your thigh gently.

You take a couple of seconds to catch your breath, meekly nodding as you bite your lip, “ ‘m okay.” You softly reply.

He climbs up the bed and hovers over you, necklace dangling in your face as you stare up at him with glossy eyes. “Kiss?” You softly say while parting your pillowy soft lips. He’s very much happy to oblige of course..

You lazily make out, your lips feel swollen and they’re glossy from spit. He doesn’t let you pull away, he’s quick to chase after your lips and reel you back in with a hand to the back of your neck. His hand tightly grips your hair and teasingly tugs because he knows you’re a little slut for it.

You moan into his mouth and needily press yourself closer to him, hooking your thigh over his hip just so you could press your needy pussy against him. Everything feels hot and you don’t like it, Jungkook’s not helping with the way he drops his other hand down to your ass cheek, gripping it tight and using his grip to yank you even closer.

Body to body, you’re rolling your hips up to feel the tent in his boxers. It’s mouth watering when the curve of his thick cock presses into your inner thigh, so close to where you need him the most..

Jungkook tightens his grip on your hip, it’s bruising even as he presses himself into you and rubs his cock over your soaked pussy. The rough friction has your toes curling and another needy gasp escaping. He pulls away from the kiss with a wild look in his eye, he pants quietly as he shoves his boxers off and tosses them somewhere.

“Hold yourself open for me baby,” he holds his heavy cock in his hand, stroking over it slowly as he looks down at your glistening cunt, “just like that..” He mumbles darkly.

You hook your arms around your thighs and pull them up to your chest so that your pussy is laid out bare for him. You bite your lip in anticipation and try your best to stay still when he taps the tip over your swollen clit.

“Look so pretty like this,” he muses as he slips his cock in inch by inch, “prettier down here too.” He grins as he lays his thumb over your clit and rubs it side to side slowly.

You let out a long “mm” as his cock fills you over and over again, filling you in the right places combined with his gentle strokes over your clit. He’s got you dripping even more as his cock re-surfaces covered with your creamy slick.

Jungkook rolls his hips into yours slowly, you can hear the quiet grunts and moans slip from his lips as he remains focused on the spot where you’re connected. His face is scrunched in pleasure, and his thumb becomes jerky as he messily swipes over your bud.

You get the urge to ride the fuck out of him, he’s been nothing but doting and now you want to return the favor. Always the giver but never the receiver, and you’re going to change that.

“Jungkookie,” you softly sigh as his eyes snap up to your face, “wanna ride you,” you pout, “can I pretty please?” You purposely squeeze around his cock as he back strokes slowly.

“Yeah,” he softly breathes out and lifts you up into his lap as he switches places with you.

You huff as his cock somehow slips deeper in the new position, “No, you lay back and let me do it.” His eyes widened slightly at your demanding tone, “I wanna make you feel good too..” You pout and wiggle around in his lap.

Jungkook bites his lip and lets his hand fall to your thighs, “Fuck–okay, yeah,” he lays his head back on the pillow and swallows harshly as you smile down at him and lay a soft kiss on his lips.

“Fuck,” he groans when you turn around in his lap to ride him reverse cowgirl. He lays his hands over the fat of your ass and smacks each cheek repeatedly while you grind yourself in his lap.

Your moans spill from your lips as you arch your back and roll your hips back and forth. Behind you Jungkook sounds like he’s having the time of his life as he holds your ass tightly in both hands. The noises he makes only fuel your desire more as you rock yourself in his lap.

“Mm–fills me up so good,” you tilt your head back with a teasing smile, “can feel it so deep in my pussy.”

Jungkook growls low and spanks you harder, “Yeah? You like knowing you’re the only one taking my cock like this huh,” he smirks, “ ‘s all yours baby.”

You huff softly and look at him over your shoulder with puppy eyes, “Mine only.” You nod, “Not hers,” you roughly slap your hips back, catching him off guard as he grunts, “Right?”

“Only you.” Jungkook sighs as he tugs you back so that you’re grinding over his cock the way he likes, “Always yours.” He murmurs.

You smile happily and begin bouncing in his lap, your ass claps against his pelvis as low fopping noises build up. The bed creaks a little and your skin smacks together as you get a little wild with it.

Your moans rise in volume alongside his as the two of you lose yourselves in your rough fucking. Your pussy clamps down when the tip of his cock brushes over your g-spot repeatedly. You have to put your hands on the bed for support as you whimper and grind quickly on his lap.

“F-Fuck..” You whimper low as your thighs begin to tremble again.

Jungkook throws his head back with a low groan as he holds your hips tightly, “Fuck keep going baby, almost there,” he whispers breathlessly, “you can do it.”

You let out a cry and slam yourself on his lap until you go still as your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. It’s mind blowing as your cunt tightens up and a wave of hot pleasure comes crashing down on you. You shake in his lap and whimper out a garbled version of his name.

Jungkook quietly moans as he holds you still and bucks his hips up a couple of times until he’s filling you with his cum. His cock twitches and pulses through his orgasm, dully reminding you that you’re on planet earth still and you need to come down from your high.

“My pussy hurts.” You softly whine while looking back at him.

“My pussy hurts,” he mocks softly, “but who just got the dicking of their life hm? You did.” He pokes your cheeks and brings you back so that you’re laying with him, “You okay?” He chuckles.

You hide your face in his neck and nod, “Nap now, food later?” You softly ask.

“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” He grins.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

It’s You

Where Y/N’s chaotic energy clashes with her grumpy, tattooed neighbor, her mission to get on his good side turns into stolen glances, quiet moments, and a connection she never expected.

Au Harry

Word count: 13,395

Content warning: Cursing, smut, alcohol.

The warm glow of string lights illuminated Y/N’s cozy Los Angeles apartment as the sound of laughter filled the air. The small space was a mix of bohemian chic and personal touches—a gallery wall of polaroids, a cluttered coffee table covered with open bags of snacks, and a few empty wine bottles standing like trophies from their earlier indulgence.

Y/N flopped back onto the couch, a glass of red wine in hand, her cheeks flushed from both the alcohol and nonstop giggling. Her two best friends, Harper and Lila, sat cross-legged on the floor, snacking on popcorn and chips, fully embracing the childlike joy of their adult sleepover.

“This feels so right,” Y/N said, her voice slightly tipsy. “Why don’t we do this more often?”

“Because we’re responsible adults now, remember?” Harper teased, adjusting her oversized hoodie. “Nine-to-five, bills, and pretending we know what we’re doing.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lila quipped, popping a gummy bear into her mouth. “I’m thriving in my chaos era.”

Y/N snorted, and Harper rolled her eyes with an affectionate grin. Lila was the wild card of the group, always coming up with unpredictable ideas. And she didn’t disappoint tonight.

“You know what we should do?” Lila suddenly said, sitting up straighter. “Karaoke.”

“Yes!” Harper exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Oh my God, yes. Do you still have that mic we bought for New Year’s Eve?”

Y/N groaned dramatically, but her smile betrayed her fake reluctance. “You mean the mic that nearly got us evicted? Of course, I still have it.”

Lila grinned wickedly. “Perfect. Let’s wake up the entire building with our stunning renditions of 2000s throwbacks.”

Without waiting for further approval, Lila dashed to the hall closet and pulled out the karaoke mic, triumphantly waving it in the air. Harper grabbed her phone, already scrolling through a playlist.

“You’re starting,” Harper declared, pointing the mic at Y/N.

“What? No!” Y/N laughed, holding her hands up defensively. “I’m not ready!”

“Too bad,” Lila said, shoving the mic into Y/N’s hands. “You can’t escape destiny. Pick your song.”

Y/N sighed theatrically before smirking. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when your ears bleed.”

As Y/N queued up Since U Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson, the room erupted in cheers. The first few notes played, and soon enough, Y/N was belting out the lyrics with unrestrained enthusiasm, her friends joining in for the chorus. It didn’t matter that they were slightly off-key; in that moment, they were superstars in their own private concert.

Wine glasses were forgotten, snacks spilled, and every lyric was sung at full volume. It was the kind of night they’d remember for years—a reminder that no matter how grown-up they pretended to be, some things never lost their magic.

The girls were in full swing, harmonizing (poorly) to “I Want It That Way” by the Backstreet Boys. Lila stood on the couch holding the mic as if she were performing at Madison Square Garden, while Harper played air guitar with a half-empty wine bottle. Y/N was doubled over in laughter, her cheeks aching from smiling so much.

Just as they hit the iconic, “Tell me why—” part, a loud knock echoed through the apartment, cutting through their drunken fun like a record scratch. The girls froze, their voices trailing off mid-note. Y/N straightened up, exchanging wide-eyed looks with Harper and Lila.

“Uh… did someone order pizza?” Lila whispered, her voice unsure.

“Nope,” Y/N said, setting her wine glass on the coffee table. “Stay here. I’ll get it.”

With a mix of nerves and annoyance, Y/N padded to the door. She peered through the peephole and groaned. It was her new neighbor, Harry. She’d only exchanged a polite “hello” with him in passing, but he’d already struck her as the brooding, grumpy type.

Bracing herself, she opened the door.

There he stood: tall, disheveled hair pushed back in a lazy attempt at taming it, wearing a faded gray hoodie and black joggers. His sharp green eyes narrowed as he took in her flushed face and the muffled chaos behind her.

“Good evening,” he started, his British accent dripping with sarcasm. “I just wanted to say how much I’ve been enjoying your concert tonight. It’s like living next door to a live music venue. Only… worse.”

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned by his dry humor. “Oh. Uh, sorry about that. We didn’t realize how loud we were being.”

Harry crossed his arms, leaning casually against the doorframe. “I figured. Thought I’d come over before I lost the ability to hear entirely.”

From behind her, Lila’s voice chimed in drunkenly. “Is it a noise complaint? Tell him to sing with us!”

Y/N turned and shot Lila a glare. Harper muffled a laugh.

Y/N sighed and looked back at Harry. “We’ll keep it down. Promise.”

He tilted his head, lips twitching into the faintest smirk, though his tone remained gruff. “Appreciated. Just… try not to turn it into a full-on festival.”

With that, he turned to leave, but Y/N couldn’t help herself. “You know, you could’ve just sent a passive-aggressive text or something.”

Harry glanced back over his shoulder, one brow arched. “I thought this had more impact.”

And then he was gone.

Y/N closed the door, leaning her forehead against it for a moment. When she turned around, Lila and Harper were staring at her like she’d just walked off the set of a rom-com.

“Um, who was that?” Lila asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Harry. My new neighbor,” Y/N replied, walking back to the couch.

“And Mr. Grumpy Pants is cute,” Harper added, grinning.

Y/N rolled her eyes, picking up her wine glass. “Yeah, yeah. He’s cute and cranky. Now can we please move on before you two start planning a love story?”

But the mischievous glint in her friends’ eyes told her they weren’t letting this go anytime soon.

The karaoke mic had been put away, and the girls now lounged in the cozy living room, passing a bottle of wine between them. The earlier buzz of excitement had mellowed, but the energy was still warm and lively. Lila was sprawled on the couch with her legs dangling over Harper’s lap, while Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, sipping from her glass.

“I mean, let’s just talk about him for a second,” Lila began, her voice dramatic. “The mopey neighbor with the accent? And did you see those tattoos? They were peeking out, Y/N. He’s giving mysterious bad boy energy.”

Y/N groaned, her cheeks warming instantly. “Oh my God, Lila. He was literally just here to tell us to shut up.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not hot,” Harper chimed in, grinning. “He has that whole ‘I’m grumpy but secretly charming’ vibe. Like, did you see the way he smirked when he made that little joke?”

Y/N tried to hide her flustered reaction by taking another sip of wine, but she couldn’t stop the blush creeping up her neck. She’d noticed too—his smirk, his sharp jawline, the tattoos curling up his forearm, just barely visible under his hoodie sleeves. She’d noticed everything.

“I mean, he’s okay, I guess,” Y/N mumbled, keeping her tone nonchalant.

“Okay?” Lila shot up, nearly spilling her wine. “You’re lying. You’re the worst liar ever.”

“Shut up,” Y/N said, laughing as she buried her face in her hands. “Fine, he’s cute. So what? He’s also my neighbor, and he’s probably annoyed with me forever now.”

“He’s not annoyed,” Harper said, nudging her with her foot. “If he were, he wouldn’t have made the effort to come over himself. He would’ve sent an email to management or something. He wanted an excuse to see you.”

“Right,” Y/N said, rolling her eyes. “Because nothing’s more attractive than a drunk girl singing Backstreet Boys at full volume.”

“Exactly!” Lila exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. “You’re memorable. He’ll never forget you now.”

Y/N shook her head, laughing despite herself. “You two are ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Harper said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “But I bet he thinks you’re cute too.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed deeper, and she quickly changed the subject. But as the night went on, she couldn’t shake the image of Harry standing in her doorway, his messy hair, his smirk, and those tattoos. Maybe her friends weren’t entirely wrong.

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds of Y/N’s apartment, illuminating the chaos left behind from the night before. Wine glasses, half-eaten snacks, and the abandoned karaoke mic were scattered around the living room. The girls were tangled up in blankets, sprawled across the couch and the floor like a scene from a sitcom.

Y/N was the first to stir, groaning as she rubbed her eyes and sat up. Harper was curled up on the couch with a throw pillow over her head, while Lila lay on the floor in a makeshift nest of cushions, one arm dramatically draped over her face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Y/N teased, nudging Lila with her foot.

Lila groaned. “Why are you awake? It’s illegal to be this alive right now.”

Harper peeked out from under her pillow, her voice muffled. “What time is it? Do we even have the energy to exist today?”

“Barely,” Y/N replied, standing and stretching. “But I’m starving, so I’m making breakfast. Come help me.”

Harper and Lila grumbled but eventually dragged themselves up and into the kitchen, where Y/N was already cracking eggs into a bowl. Together, they whipped up a chaotic but delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and a mountain of coffee.

The girls sat around the small dining table, eating in comfortable silence at first. Then Lila broke the quiet with a wicked grin.

“So… Harry.”

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, covering her face. “Not again.”

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Lila said, smirking. “Next time we do this, we should make it even louder. Really make him come back over.”

Harper snorted into her coffee. “Yes! Like, full-blown karaoke night but with amps and disco lights.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. “You two are the worst.”

“But you love us,” Harper said, nudging her with an elbow.

After breakfast, the girls cleaned up and packed their things before heading out. Harper hugged Y/N tightly. “We definitely need to do this again.”

Lila nodded enthusiastically. “Louder next time. You know, for research purposes.”

Y/N shook her head, laughing as she walked them to the door. “You’re both insane, but I love you. Drive safe.”

Once they were gone, Y/N flopped onto the couch and opened their group chat. Almost immediately, messages started flooding in.

Lila: Next sleepover, let’s bring a fog machine. If Harry shows up, we’ll just act like it’s a concert.

Harper: Or we could rent a spotlight. Make it an event

Y/N: You guys are unbelievable. No more wine for you next time.

Lila: Admit it, you want him to show up again.

Y/N: …maybe.

Harper: KNEW IT.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at her phone, her cheeks warming yet again. As ridiculous as her friends were, they weren’t entirely wrong.

The day passed in a blur of cleaning and tidying as Y/N tried to get her apartment back to its usual organized state. By the time the sun started to dip low in the sky, the chaos from the night before had been erased, leaving her apartment looking like a picture of calm domesticity. Feeling accomplished, Y/N decided to check her mailbox before settling in for a quiet evening.

She padded down to the mailroom in her building, dressed in a casual but presentable outfit—high-waisted jeans and a simple white top. As she rifled through the usual junk mail and a couple of bills, the sound of someone entering the room caught her attention.

Glancing to the side, she saw Harry walking in, his hoodie replaced by a fitted black t-shirt and dark jeans. His tattoos were on full display now—intricate designs that wound up his forearm and disappeared under the sleeve of his shirt. He barely glanced at her as he moved to his mailbox, unlocking it with practiced ease.

Y/N swallowed her nerves and decided to seize the moment. It was better to make a proper introduction now than to let the awkwardness from last night linger. Turning slightly toward him, she cleared her throat.

“Hey, neighbor,” she began, keeping her tone light. “Figured I should introduce myself officially now that I’m not, you know, half-drunk and screaming karaoke at midnight. I’m Y/N.”

Harry turned his head, his green eyes locking onto hers. His expression was neutral, almost unreadable, as he gave her a quick once-over. “Harry,” he said simply, his voice low and clipped.

Y/N bit back a grin, determined not to let his gruff demeanor throw her off. “Nice to meet you, Harry. Sorry again about last night. I promise we don’t usually host impromptu concerts. Unless, of course, you’re a fan of boy band throwbacks.”

Harry let out a soft exhale that could’ve been a laugh—or just a sigh. “I’ll survive.”

Encouraged by the hint of amusement, Y/N decided to keep the conversation going. “You know, if you’re ever feeling nostalgic, you’re welcome to join us. We could use a fourth member for our extremely off-key girl group.”

Harry’s lips twitched slightly, but his expression remained mostly stoic. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Y/N tilted her head, giving him a mock-serious look. “You’re really hard to read, you know that? Most people at least chuckle at my jokes.”

Harry glanced at her, his gaze steady and calm. “Maybe I’m just not most people.”

For a moment, Y/N didn’t know how to respond. There was something almost challenging in his tone, but it wasn’t harsh. If anything, it piqued her curiosity even more.

“Well, Harry,” she said finally, flashing him a bright smile. “Challenge accepted. I’ll make you laugh one of these days.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead closing his mailbox and tucking the letters under his arm. As he moved to leave, he paused, looking over his shoulder.

“We’ll see about that.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Y/N standing there with her stack of mail and a strange mix of frustration and intrigue swirling in her chest. One thing was for sure—Harry might be grumpy, but he was far from boring.

As soon as Y/N got back to her apartment, she tossed her mail onto the counter and grabbed her phone, already smirking to herself. She opened the group chat with Harper and Lila, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

Y/N:

Guess who I just ran into in the mailroom?

It didn’t take long for her phone to buzz with replies.

Lila:

Was it… oh, I don’t know… Mr. Grumpy Hot Neighbor?

Harper:

Harry! Tell us everything right now.

Y/N rolled her eyes fondly, typing out her reply.

Y/N:

Yes, it was Harry. I introduced myself properly. You know, as a fully functional adult and not a drunken mess.

Lila:

And? Did he swoon? Did he drop all his mail and propose on the spot?

Harper:

Or at least crack a smile?

Y/N sighed and leaned back against the counter, smirking to herself as she typed.

Y/N:

Absolutely not. He was… well, Harry. Polite but distant. He might’ve almost smiled, but I can’t be sure.

Lila:

Ugh, he’s really sticking to the mysterious moody thing. It’s so hot. What did you say to him?

Y/N:

I told him he was hard to read and said I’d make him laugh one day.

Harper:

Bold move, I love it. What did he say?

Y/N:

He said, ‘We’ll see about that.’

Lila:

STOP. That’s basically flirting.

Harper:

Right? That’s flirty! Subtle, broody flirting.

Y/N:

You two are ridiculous. It wasn’t flirting. He’s just… like that.

Lila:

Y/N, this is your rom-com moment, and you’re living in denial. Grumpy guy + sunshine girl is literally a trope for a reason.

Harper:

Exactly. Next step: get him to join us for karaoke.

Y/N:

Oh, sure, because he definitely seems like the kind of guy who wants to sing ‘Toxic’ with us.

Lila:

You never know. Maybe he has a secret karaoke voice that’ll blow us all away.

Y/N laughed to herself, shaking her head. Her friends were relentless, but she couldn’t deny that their enthusiasm made her smile. As much as she tried to brush off the encounter, she couldn’t stop replaying it in her head—the way Harry’s green eyes lingered just a second too long, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. 

It had been a couple of weeks since Y/N’s encounter with Harry in the mailroom, and she’d managed to push him to the back of her mind. Between work, friends, and her usual routine, she hadn’t bumped into him in the halls or around the building. Life went on, and the memory of his grumpy smirk became just another amusing anecdote to share with Harper and Lila.

Until one night.

Y/N was jolted awake by the blaring sound of the fire alarm. Disoriented and groggy, she stumbled out of bed and grabbed a sweatshirt, pulling it over her pajama tank top. She shoved her feet into sneakers, grabbed her phone, and headed for the door. The hallway was chaotic, filled with neighbors in various states of sleepiness and confusion, all heading for the exits.

Once outside, Y/N joined the crowd of residents gathering on the sidewalk. The chilly night air bit at her skin, and she crossed her arms to keep warm. She craned her neck, scanning the crowd to see if there was anyone she knew—until her eyes landed on a familiar figure leaning against a lamppost.

It was Harry. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction, and he wore a hoodie over loose sweatpants. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, which, to be fair, he probably had. His expression was pure exhaustion, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he yawned.

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She made her way over, her footsteps crunching on the gravel. “Hey, neighbor,” she said, coming to a stop next to him.

Harry turned his head, his green eyes narrowing slightly as he registered her. “Y/N,” he said, his voice rough from sleep. “This is… unexpected.” He waved his hand around. 

She grinned, shifting her weight to one foot. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. But hey, at least it’s the fire alarms being obnoxiously loud this time and not me.”

Harry’s lips twitched, and for a second, she thought she’d finally gotten him to crack a smile. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?” he asked dryly.

“Never,” Y/N replied, a teasing lilt in her voice. “It’s too good of a story.”

Harry exhaled softly, almost like a laugh, and shook his head. “Fair enough.”

They stood in silence for a moment, watching as a fire truck pulled up and a couple of firefighters headed inside to investigate. The air was crisp and carried a faint chill, but Y/N barely noticed. She glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye.

“Do you think it’s an actual fire?” she asked.

“Doubt it,” he said, crossing his arms. “Probably just someone burning their midnight snack.”

“Sounds like a riveting Saturday night,” Y/N joked, earning another small exhale from him.

“Tell me about it,” he muttered, glancing down at her. His gaze lingered for a moment, and Y/N could feel her cheeks warm, though she tried to play it cool.

“Well,” she said, rocking back on her heels. “If it turns out to be a drill, I’m demanding a formal apology from management for ruining my beauty sleep.”

Harry’s lips quirked, just enough for her to notice. “I’m sure they’ll get right on that.”

For the first time, standing outside in the middle of the night with Harry didn’t feel awkward or forced. It was easy, natural even, despite his perpetually tired and broody demeanor. Maybe it was the ridiculousness of the situation, or maybe her persistence was finally wearing him down.

Before either of them could say more, a firefighter emerged from the building, shouting to the crowd that it was a false alarm. People groaned, some laughing as they shuffled back toward the entrance.

Harry pushed off the lamppost and looked at Y/N. “Guess that’s our cue.”

“Looks like it,” she said. “Catch you later, Harry.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable but not unkind. “Night, Y/N.”

As she headed back to her apartment, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a small spark of satisfaction. Sure, he was still grumpy, but she was getting closer to breaking through. And honestly, she didn’t mind the challenge.

By the time Y/N woke up the next morning, she had already drafted the text she knew Harper and Lila would demand. Still half-asleep, she grabbed her phone and opened their group chat, typing out the full story in detail.

Y/N:

So… guess who I bumped into at 3 a.m. when the fire alarm went off?

It didn’t take long for her phone to buzz with rapid-fire responses.

Harper:

Oh my God. HARRY?

Lila:

Please tell me you were both standing there in your PJs like the meet-cute of the century.

Y/N:

 No, it wasn’t a meet-cute. We just talked. Very normal. Nothing groundbreaking.

Harper:

What did you talk about?

Y/N:

I made a joke about how this time it wasn’t me being loud, it was the fire alarm.

Lila:

YES. Classic Y/N. What did he say?

Y/N:

He just… smirked. Or sighed. I’m honestly not sure anymore. He’s so hard to read.

Harper:

Smirking counts as flirting. I’m logging it.

Lila:

Definitely flirting. He wouldn’t have smirked if he wasn’t secretly interested. Men don’t waste smirks on people they don’t like.

Y/N:

Or he was just tired and didn’t care enough to argue.

Harper:

Nope. Not buying it. He’s interested. He’s just grumpy interested.

Lila:

Exactly! Brooding types like him don’t wear their feelings on their sleeves, but trust me, he’s intrigued. You just need to keep working on him.

Y/N rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile.

Y/N:

You two are absolutely ridiculous. We talked for five minutes, tops. Nothing more, nothing less.

Harper:

Sure, keep telling yourself that.

Lila:

Face it, Y/N. This is your slow-burn romance, and we are here for it. We’re already planning the playlist for your wedding.

Y/N:

Oh my God. I can’t with you two.

Despite her protests, Y/N couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in her mind—the way his eyes lingered on her, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Harper and Lila were reading too much into it… weren’t they?

Shaking her head, Y/N tossed her phone onto the couch. She had no intention of indulging their wild theories. But deep down, a small, stubborn part of her couldn’t help but wonder. 

Y/N lay in bed, staring at the faint shadows cast by her bedside lamp on the ceiling. The city sounds outside her window were faint but constant—cars in the distance, the occasional murmur of voices. She’d been tossing and turning for what felt like hours, her brain refusing to shut off.

It didn’t help that every time she closed her eyes, all she could think about was Harry.

It wasn’t intentional, or at least that’s what she told herself. She’d been trying to push him out of her mind all day, but now, in the stillness of the night, his image seemed to surface unbidden. The way his messy hair stuck out when she’d seen him by the mailboxes. The tattoos peeking out from under his shirt sleeves, the intricate designs winding across his arms like a story she desperately wanted to read.

And then there was his face—sharp jawline, green eyes that seemed to pierce through her defenses, and that faint smirk he’d given her last night when she’d cracked her fire alarm joke. It wasn’t a full smile, but it had been enough to spark something in her. Something she couldn’t quite shake.

She groaned, rolling onto her side and burying her face in her pillow. “Get a grip,” she muttered to herself.

But it was no use. She kept thinking about the way his voice sounded—low, calm, almost soothing in its quiet confidence. The way he seemed perpetually unimpressed but not unkind, like he was holding back a part of himself from the world. And the way, despite all that grumpiness, she felt drawn to him.

The worst part was that she barely even knew him. A few brief encounters, a handful of words exchanged—it wasn’t enough to warrant this level of overthinking. And yet, here she was, wide awake at 2 a.m., her thoughts spinning in circles around a guy who probably wasn’t thinking about her at all.

She sighed, flipping onto her back again and staring at the ceiling. “You’re losing it, Y/N,” she whispered into the dark.

But no matter how hard she tried to distract herself—counting sheep, replaying her favorite movie in her head, anything—her mind kept drifting back to Harry. How frustratingly attractive he was. How much she wanted to figure him out. And how, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she kind of liked the challenge.

The next afternoon, Y/N tied her apron around her waist and stepped onto the floor of the bustling Italian restaurant where she worked. The warm scent of garlic, fresh basil, and baking bread filled the air as the sounds of clinking silverware and cheerful conversations hummed around her. It was her favorite kind of shift—steady but not overwhelming, just busy enough to keep her energized.

She loved being a server. There was something satisfying about knowing the menu by heart, from the way the chef perfectly folded the handmade ravioli to the rich, velvety tiramisu that always left customers raving. She enjoyed the rhythm of it all: taking orders, making guests laugh, weaving between tables like she was part of a well-rehearsed dance.

By the time her shift ended, the sun was low in the sky, casting a soft golden glow over the city streets. Y/N slipped her bag over her shoulder, said goodbye to her coworkers, and began her short walk home.

The evening was warm, the kind of weather that made her glad she’d chosen this neighborhood to live in. She liked the convenience of being close to work, the charm of the old brick buildings, and the occasional vendor selling flowers or roasted nuts on the sidewalk.

But as she rounded the last corner toward her apartment building, the sky darkened suddenly. Heavy clouds rolled in overhead, and before she could process what was happening, the first fat drops of rain began to fall.

“Seriously?” Y/N muttered, looking up at the sky as if it might offer her an explanation. Within seconds, the light drizzle turned into a full-on downpour. She didn’t have an umbrella, of course—it had been sunny when she left for work—and now she was too far from the restaurant to go back.

She quickened her pace, pulling her bag closer to her body to shield it from the rain. Her hair was already plastered to her forehead, and her clothes clung to her as the rain soaked through. She groaned in frustration but couldn’t help laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

By the time her apartment building came into view, she was drenched. She jogged the last stretch, her sneakers splashing in puddles, and darted toward the lobby entrance. As she reached for the door, it opened from the inside—and there, standing in the doorway, was Harry.

Of course, it was Harry.

He was holding a takeout bag in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. His green eyes widened slightly when he saw her, taking in her rain-soaked appearance.

“Rough night?” he asked, his voice dry but laced with faint amusement.

Y/N brushed a wet strand of hair out of her face, shaking water from her arms. “You could say that. Apparently, the weather decided I needed a shower.”

Harry stepped back, holding the door open for her. “You’re dripping everywhere.”

“Thanks for the observation,” Y/N said with a wry smile as she stepped inside, water pooling around her feet. “I hadn’t noticed.”

He smirked, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary before he nodded toward the elevators. “You should probably get upstairs before you flood the lobby.”

“Wow, you’re so thoughtful,” she teased, her sarcasm barely masking the warmth in her voice.

Harry didn’t reply, but his lips twitched like he was holding back a comment. He stepped aside, letting her pass, and as Y/N headed toward the elevator, she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder. He was still standing by the door, his attention now on the rain outside, but she could’ve sworn she caught him sneaking a glance at her as she walked away.

Y/N stepped into her apartment, water dripping onto the floor as she kicked off her soaked sneakers. She stripped off her rain-soaked clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket before heading straight to the bathroom. The hot water of the shower was bliss, washing away the chill of the rain and the lingering frustration of getting caught in it. By the time she stepped out, wrapped in a fluffy towel, her skin was warm and her mind was clearer.

Slipping into her favorite pair of soft pajamas—shorts and an oversized t-shirt—she towel-dried her hair and grabbed her phone from the counter. She hadn’t checked it since leaving work, and the screen lit up with a few notifications. Most were unimportant, but one text made her freeze.

Unknown Number:

Hey, it’s Harry. Got your number from the resident book. Hope that’s okay. I, uh, ordered way too much food. If you’re not busy and don’t mind eating with someone who’s terrible at small talk, you’re welcome to join me.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Harry had texted her? She stared at the message, rereading it a couple of times, unsure what to make of it. The grumpy, brooding neighbor had gone out of his way to invite her over for dinner?

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she thought about what to say. She could easily come up with an excuse, blame the rain, or even politely decline. But something about his message—how he’d gone through the trouble of looking up her number and even made a self-deprecating joke—made her hesitate.

Finally, she started typing.

Y/N:

Hey! I’m surprised you didn’t mention how loud I was running through the lobby earlier. I’d love to join, but fair warning: I’m in my pajamas. I’ll bring wine to make up for it.

She hit send before she could second-guess herself and immediately got up to rummage through her small wine rack. She picked out a bottle of red, grabbed her favorite corkscrew, and texted him again.

Y/N:

Give me five minutes to make myself look less like a wet dog.

His response came almost instantly.

Harry:

I wouldn’t have said anything about the lobby, but now that you’ve brought it up… five minutes works. Apartment 4D.

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. She quickly towel-dried her hair a little more, tossed it into a loose bun, and grabbed the wine. As she stood by her door, nerves fluttered in her stomach, but she pushed them aside.

Whatever this was—neighborly dinner, an olive branch, or something else—she was curious enough to find out.

Y/N stepped out of her apartment, the bottle of wine in hand, and made her way to the elevator. As she descended a floor, her nerves started to tingle, though she shook them off. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just dinner with her neighbor. Her very attractive, grumpy neighbor with tattoos and a British accent. Nothing to overthink at all.

When she reached Harry’s door, she raised her hand to knock—but before she could, the door swung open. Harry stood there, leaning casually against the frame, one eyebrow raised.

“I could hear you coming down the hall,” he said, his tone dry but his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Subtlety isn’t your strong suit, is it?”

Y/N let out a laugh, rolling her eyes. “I’ll take that as your way of saying you’re happy to see me.”

“Something like that,” he replied, stepping aside to let her in.

Y/N walked in, glancing around as she entered. Harry’s apartment was similar in layout to hers but had an entirely different vibe. The walls were painted a deep, moody gray, with shelves lined with books, records, and a few small plants that looked suspiciously well cared for. A guitar rested in the corner by the window, and the faint smell of takeout wafted from the small kitchen.

“Nice place,” she said, setting the wine on the counter. “Very… broody chic. Fits you.”

Harry arched a brow as he closed the door. “Broody chic? Is that a compliment?”

“Depends how you take it,” Y/N shot back with a grin.

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he moved toward the kitchen. “Hope you’re hungry. I may have overestimated how much I can eat on my own.”

She followed him, glancing at the spread on the counter. There were containers of what looked like Thai food—pad thai, green curry, fried rice, and spring rolls. Definitely enough for two, if not three.

“You weren’t kidding,” she said, grabbing a spring roll. “Planning on feeding the whole building?”

“Only the loudest resident,” he said, smirking again.

She gave him a playful glare before grabbing plates from the counter and handing him one. “Lucky for you, I came prepared,” she said, holding up the wine. “This should balance things out.”

As they settled at the small table, Y/N couldn’t help but notice how relaxed Harry seemed. He wasn’t smiling, not really, but there was something softer about him tonight. Less guarded. And as they started eating, trading sarcastic comments and occasional small talk, she realized she didn’t mind the challenge of cracking through his tough exterior one bit.

Harry handed Y/N two wine glasses, their fingers brushing briefly as she took them. He didn’t say anything, but his lips moved slightly as if he was trying not to smirk. Y/N poured the wine, filling each glass just enough before sliding one over to him.

Meanwhile, he plated the food, carefully dividing the dishes between two plates. His movements were deliberate, almost methodical, and Y/N found herself watching him for a moment before realizing what she was doing. Shaking herself out of it, she grabbed her glass and followed him to the bar counter.

They sat side by side, the warm glow of the pendant light above them casting a cozy atmosphere. Y/N took a sip of her wine, her gaze flicking to Harry as he started eating in silence.

For a while, she stayed quiet, enjoying the food and the unspoken rhythm of their shared meal. But her curiosity got the better of her. Setting her glass down, she turned toward him slightly, resting her elbow on the counter.

“So,” she began, her tone light but probing, “why are you always so grumpy?”

Harry paused mid-bite, his fork hovering over his plate as he looked at her. His green eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger but as if he were trying to decide how serious she was.

“Grumpy?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, grumpy,” she said, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “You know, the whole emo, barely-smiling, ‘I don’t have time for your nonsense’ vibe you’ve got going on. Is it like… your thing?”

Harry leaned back slightly, taking a slow sip of his wine as he considered her question. “Maybe I’m not grumpy,” he said finally, his voice calm. “Maybe you’re just too… cheerful.”

“Cheerful?” she echoed, laughing softly. “That’s your explanation? I’m cheerful, so that automatically makes you grumpy?”

“Something like that,” he said, his lips quirking into the faintest smirk.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help smiling. “You’re deflecting.”

He raised his glass, meeting her gaze over the rim as he took another sip. “Maybe.”

“Come on,” she pressed, leaning in slightly. “There’s got to be a reason. I mean, you’re not actuallymiserable all the time, are you?”

Harry sighed, setting his glass down and leaning his forearms on the counter. For a moment, he seemed to be debating whether or not to answer. Finally, he shrugged.

“I’m not grumpy,” he said, his voice quieter. “I just… don’t see the point in pretending all the time. People put on this front like everything’s great, but most of the time, it’s not. I’m just… honest about it.”

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. There was something in his tone—something unspoken but heavy, like he was revealing more than he intended.

“Well,” she said softly, “for what it’s worth, I don’t think being happy is the same as pretending. And I’m not pretending.”

Harry glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “I noticed,” he said simply.

Her cheeks warmed, and for a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of the conversation settling between them. Then Y/N picked up her glass and raised it toward him.

“To being honest,” she said with a small smile.

Harry’s eyes flicked to her glass before he picked up his own, clinking it against hers. “To being honest,” he echoed.

And for the first time that evening, his smirk softened into something closer to a smile.

Harry swirled the wine in his glass, staring at the deep red liquid for a moment before setting it down and looking at Y/N. His expression was more open now, his usual guarded demeanor softened.

“You seem nice enough,” he said, his tone casual but sincere. “I could use a friend around here.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the admission. For a moment, she wasn’t sure how to respond. Then a warm smile spread across her face.

“Well, that’s unexpected,” she said, her voice light with humor. “I thought for sure you hated me after the whole karaoke fiasco.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, his lips twitching in amusement. “Hated you? No. Annoyed, maybe. But hate’s a strong word.”

“Good to know,” Y/N said, laughing softly. “Because I was convinced you’d written me off as the world’s loudest neighbor.”

“I’ll admit,” Harry said, smirking now, “the karaoke was… a lot. But it’s hard to hate someone who sings ‘I Want It That Way’ with that much enthusiasm.”

Y/N covered her face with her hands, laughing harder. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you remember the song. That’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s unforgettable,” he said with mock seriousness, taking another sip of wine.

When her laughter died down, Y/N looked at him, her expression softening. “For what it’s worth, I’d be happy to be your friend. You don’t seem as scary as you pretend to be.”

“Scary?” Harry echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah,” she teased. “You’ve got the whole ‘grumpy lone wolf’ thing going on. It’s a little intimidating.”

Harry shook his head, but there was a faint smile on his face. “I’m not scary.”

“No,” Y/N said, grinning. “You’re not. You’re just… Harry.”

He didn’t respond right away, but his gaze lingered on her for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. Finally, he nodded, his tone soft but certain. “Yeah. Just Harry.”

As they continued eating, the conversation grew lighter, the initial tension between them fading into something comfortable. By the time they finished their meal, Y/N realized that beneath Harry’s gruff exterior was someone she genuinely wanted to know better. And judging by the way his smirk had softened into something warmer, she suspected he felt the same.

After finishing their plates, Harry leaned back in his chair, resting his forearm on the bar counter as he glanced at Y/N. There was a comfortable silence between them, one she hadn’t expected when she first showed up at his door.

“Thanks for coming over,” he said finally, his tone quieter but sincere. “I don’t usually… do this.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, swirling her wine in her glass. “What? Order too much food or invite people over?”

He smirked faintly, shaking his head. “The second one. I’m not exactly the ‘neighborly dinner’ type.”

“Well, I feel special then,” she teased, tilting her head at him. “Although, if you’re not usually this social, why’d you invite me? I mean, not that I’m complaining.”

Harry shrugged, glancing down at his glass. “You seemed… different. I don’t know. Most people I meet just seem fake, like they’re putting on a show. But you’re…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Real.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the raw honesty of his words. “Oh,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips. “Well, thanks. I think.”

“I mean it,” Harry added, looking at her directly now. “You’re… not what I expected when I moved here. In a good way.”

Her cheeks warmed at his words, and she tried to play it off with humor. “Careful, Harry. You’re starting to sound like you actually like me.”

“Don’t push it,” he said with a smirk, though his eyes were softer than usual.

They fell into another comfortable silence, sipping their wine and letting the moment stretch out. Y/N felt herself relax more with each passing second, realizing how easy it was to be around him now that some of his walls had come down.

After a moment, she broke the quiet. “You know, for someone who claims not to be social, you’re pretty good company.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” she said, her grin widening. “You should let yourself be social more often. You might surprise yourself.”

He scoffed softly, shaking his head. “One step at a time.”

They shared a small laugh, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel like this was a turning point. Whatever Harry had been holding back before, he was letting her in now, even if only a little. It felt… nice.

Eventually, she glanced at her phone and realized how late it had gotten. “I should probably head back,” she said, setting her empty wine glass down. “I’ve already overstayed my welcome.”

Harry stood as she got up, shaking his head. “You haven’t. But… thanks for coming. I mean it.”

She smiled, grabbing the bottle of wine. “Anytime, Harry.”

As she walked to the door, he followed her, leaning casually against the frame as she turned back to face him. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at her, a softness she wasn’t used to seeing from him.

“Goodnight,” she said, her voice lighter now.

“Night, Y/N,” he replied, his smirk returning.

She headed back to her apartment, her heart unexpectedly lighter. Maybe Harry wasn’t as grumpy as he seemed—or maybe she was just getting used to it. Either way, she found herself smiling as she closed her door behind her. And for the first time in weeks, she wasn’t overthinking anything.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the sunlight filtering through her blinds and a faint smile lingering on her lips. The night before with Harry had been… unexpected, but not in a bad way. She stretched, grabbed her phone from the nightstand, and immediately opened her group chat with Harper and Lila.

Y/N:

So, guess what? Harry invited me over for dinner last night.

It didn’t take long for her phone to explode with notifications.

Lila:

WHAT. DETAILS NOW.

Harper:

DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM?!

Y/N rolled her eyes, her cheeks warming despite being alone.

Y/N:

No, I didn’t sleep with him. Calm down.

Lila:

Boring. But continue.

Harper:

Okay, but like, did it feel like it was going there?

Y/N:

No! It wasn’t like that. He said he had too much food and could use a friend, so I brought wine, and we had dinner. That’s it.

Lila:

You brought wine. That’s a date move.

Harper:

Right? Totally a date.

Y/N:

It wasn’t a date. We ate at his bar counter, talked a little, and that’s all. But…

Lila:

BUT WHAT?!

Harper:

Spill, Y/N. Don’t make us beg.

Y/N sighed, biting her lip as she typed out her next message.

Y/N:

Okay, fine. I wouldn’t mind if something happened, but it’s not like I know much about him. I don’t even know what he does for work.

Lila:

Oh my God. You want to bang the mysterious, tattooed neighbor. I KNEW IT.

Harper:

This is your grumpy/sunshine romance, and we are living for it.

Y/N:

You two are ridiculous. I’m just saying he’s attractive, okay? That doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen.

Lila:

It’ll happen. The sexual tension alone is probably unbearable.

Harper:

Agreed. You just need to ask him questions about himself. What he does for work, what his favorite food is, if he’s single—

Lila:

Definitely ask the last one. For research purposes.

Y/N groaned, shaking her head but smiling despite herself.

Y/N:

You two are impossible. But fine, if the opportunity comes up, I’ll try to find out more about him. Happy?

Harper:

Ecstatic.

Lila:

Can’t wait to hear how this unfolds. We’re already planning the wedding playlist.

Y/N laughed, tossing her phone onto the bed. Her friends were relentless, but they weren’t wrong about one thing—she was curious about Harry. And as much as she tried to deny it, she wouldn’t mind getting to know him better… or seeing where this strange connection between them might lead.

Later that month Y/N walked into her apartment after a long day, expecting the usual cozy warmth to greet her. Instead, an icy chill hit her the moment she stepped inside. She frowned, rubbing her arms and heading straight for the thermostat. She fiddled with it for a minute, but no matter what she did, the heater refused to turn on.

“Great,” she muttered, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders. It wasn’t unbearably cold outside, but inside her apartment, it felt like a freezer.

With no other options, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She didn’t know many people in the building—just Harry, really. And as much as she hesitated, her fingers hovered over his name before she finally sent a text.

Y/N:

Hey, random question. Do you happen to have a small heater or something I can borrow? My heater’s broken, and it’s freezing in here.

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed.

Harry:

Why don’t you just stay here tonight? I’ve got heat, and I don’t own a portable heater.

Y/N stared at the message, her heart skipping a beat. She hadn’t expected that. Borrowing something was one thing, but staying at his place? She hesitated, her fingers tapping lightly against the screen. Before she could overthink it, she typed out a response.

Y/N:

Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.

His reply was quick.

Harry:

You’re not intruding. Besides, it’s better than you freezing to death in your apartment. Bring whatever you need.

She bit her lip, a mix of nerves and curiosity swirling in her chest. Finally, she grabbed a bag and threw in some essentials—pajamas, a toothbrush, and a few other things—before bundling up and heading out.

When she reached his door, she knocked softly. It opened almost immediately, and there was Harry, leaning against the frame with his usual calm demeanor.

“Figured you’d take me up on the offer,” he said, stepping aside to let her in.

“Yeah, well, hypothermia didn’t sound appealing,” Y/N replied with a small smile, brushing past him into the warmth of his apartment.

As she set her bag down by the couch, she glanced at him. “Thanks for this, by the way. I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged, closing the door. “No problem. It’s just one night.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Wow, Harry. That almost sounded like you’re happy to have me here.”

He gave her a dry look but didn’t respond, instead gesturing toward the couch. “You can take the couch if you want, or I can grab some extra blankets for the guest room.”

She looked at the couch, then back at him. “Guest room? You have a guest room?”

“Barely,” he said with a shrug. “It’s more of a storage room, but there’s a bed in there.”

“Well, as long as it’s warmer than my apartment, I’ll take it.”

Harry nodded, heading toward the hallway. “I’ll grab some blankets.”

As Harry disappeared down the hallway to grab blankets, Y/N called after him, her voice light and teasing. “By the way, I brought some wine as a thank-you! You know, for saving me from my frozen wasteland of an apartment.”

She heard him chuckle faintly, his voice drifting back from the other room. “Thoughtful of you. What kind?”

“Red. A classic, nothing too fancy,” she replied, smirking as she started to take the bottle out of her bag. “Figured you’d prefer something a little understated, given your whole ‘mysterious and broody’ vibe.”

Harry reappeared in the doorway, carrying a thick blanket over one shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at her. “I think you enjoy calling me broody a little too much.”

“Well, it fits,” she shot back, grinning. “Speaking of which, I realized something earlier—I don’t even know what you do for work. So, enlighten me, oh mysterious one. What is it that you do?”

Harry paused for a moment, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I own an art gallery,” he said simply, setting the blanket on the couch.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “You own an art gallery?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning casually against the back of the couch. “Small place over in Silver Lake. Nothing flashy, just local artists and smaller exhibitions.”

She stared at him, her curiosity piqued. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“What did you see coming?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” Y/N admitted, laughing softly. “Something more… I don’t know, corporate? Like sitting at a desk all day and brooding at spreadsheets.”

Harry actually laughed at that, a low, warm sound that surprised her. “Sorry to disappoint. No spreadsheets involved.”

“No, it’s not disappointing,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “It’s just… unexpected. I mean, you own an art gallery. That’s cool. Artistic and grumpy? You’re full of surprises, Harry.”

He shook his head, but there was a faint warmth in his expression, like her enthusiasm had caught him off guard. “It’s just a business.”

“Just a business?” she repeated, tilting her head. “Don’t undersell yourself. That’s impressive.”

He looked at her for a moment, his gaze steady. “Thanks.”

They fell into a brief silence, and Y/N felt the air shift slightly. It wasn’t awkward—if anything, it felt… comfortable. She gestured to the wine. “So, should we open this or what?”

Harry nodded, stepping into the kitchen to grab two glasses. “Why not? You’re my guest, after all.”

As he poured the wine, Y/N couldn’t help but think that for someone who seemed so guarded at first, Harry was slowly becoming an open book—one she was eager to keep reading.

Y/N leaned against the counter, swirling her glass of wine as she watched Harry pour his own. “So, how did you end up owning an art gallery?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. “I mean, that’s not exactly the most common career path.”

Harry took a sip of his wine, his gaze thoughtful as he set the glass down. “I’ve always loved art. Painting, sketching… that sort of thing. But it’s not exactly the easiest way to make a living.”

Y/N nodded, understanding the struggle. “So, the gallery was a way to stay involved in the art world?”

“Something like that,” he said, leaning his hip against the counter. “I came into some money after my mom passed a few years ago. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was enough to make me think about what I really wanted to do. I didn’t want to sit in an office or work for someone else. I wanted something that felt… personal. The gallery felt like the right choice.”

“That’s incredible,” Y/N said, her voice soft. “I mean, turning something you love into a business? Not many people can say they’ve done that.”

Harry shrugged, a faint smile on his lips. “It has its challenges, but I don’t regret it.”

Y/N smiled at him, feeling a new layer of respect for her neighbor. After a moment, he tilted his head, his eyes flicking to her. “What about you? What do you do?”

She hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Oh, nothing nearly as impressive as you,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m just a server. I work at an Italian restaurant a few blocks from here.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he was holding back a laugh. “Why do you say it like that?”

“Like what?” she asked, frowning.

“Like it’s nothing. You said you’re ‘just’ a server,” he said, taking another sip of his wine. “You’re in food service, right? That’s an art in itself. Just… a different kind.”

She blinked, caught off guard by his perspective. “I’ve never thought about it like that.”

He nodded, gesturing with his glass. “Think about it. You’re part of creating an experience for people. The way the food’s presented, the way you interact with customers—it’s all part of the artistry. Doesn’t matter if it’s a painting on a wall or a plate of pasta. It’s still something people connect with.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over her. “That’s… actually really nice of you to say.”

“It’s true,” Harry said simply, his green eyes meeting hers. “Stop selling yourself short.”

She smiled, feeling unexpectedly lighter. “Thanks, Harry. I guess I’ll try to keep that in mind the next time someone complains about their breadsticks not being warm enough.”

He chuckled at that, shaking his head. “Breadsticks or not, it sounds like you’re good at what you do.”

Y/N sipped her wine, the corners of her lips curving up. 

Y/N swirled the wine in her glass, glancing at Harry over the rim. She hesitated for a moment, then decided to push the conversation a little further. “You know,” she began, her voice softer now, “you have a really nice way of thinking about things. The way you look at art, even food… it’s kind of impressive.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter with an amused expression. “Is that your way of saying I’m not just a grumpy neighbor?”

“Maybe,” she said with a small grin, her tone almost teasing. “But seriously, you’ve got a smart mind, Harry. You see things in a way most people don’t.”

He tilted his head slightly, his green eyes studying her as if trying to figure out her angle. “Are you flirting with me, Y/N?”

She laughed, feeling her cheeks flush slightly. “And if I was?”

Harry’s lips curved into a faint smirk, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a slow sip of his wine, his gaze never leaving hers. “Then I’d say it’s about time you stopped pretending you find me intimidating.”

“I never said you intimidate me,” she shot back, her grin widening. “I said you have a grumpy vibe. Totally different.”

“Right,” he said, his tone dry but his smirk giving him away. “Good to know I’m not scaring you off.”

“Not even close,” Y/N replied, her voice confident now. She leaned her elbow on the counter, resting her chin in her hand as she looked at him. “You’re not as scary as you think, Harry. In fact, I think you’re kind of… interesting.”

Harry chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

“Right back at you,” she said, her gaze warm.

For a moment, the air between them shifted. The playful banter was still there, but beneath it was something quieter, something unspoken. Y/N didn’t know what exactly was happening, but she wasn’t in a hurry to break the moment.

Harry finally set his glass down, his expression softening just slightly. “Careful, Y/N,” he said, his voice low but with a hint of amusement. “You keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you actually like having me around.”

“Maybe I do,” she said simply, holding his gaze.

The corners of his mouth twitched, and for the first time, he didn’t deflect her comment. Instead, he just looked at her, something unreadable flickering in his green eyes. Y/N felt her heartbeat quicken, but she didn’t look away.

The mood in the room shifted as Harry leaned forward, his green eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. 

He tilted his head slightly, his voice low and teasing as he said, "You wouldn't be able to handle me."

Her breath caught, but she wasn't about to let him have the last word.

 "Try me," she challenged, her voice steady but laced with anticipation.

Harry's eyes darkened, the playful smirk on his lips giving way to something deeper, something more raw. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and placed his hand lightly on her throat-not gripping, just resting, his thumb brushing the edge of her jaw. The warmth of his touch made her heart race, and she felt her breath hitch as he leaned in closer.

For a moment, the world around them seemed to disappear, the only sound her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Then, without another word, Harry closed the gap between them, capturing her lips in a deep, searing kiss.

It wasn't gentle, but it wasn't rushed either-it was deliberate, like he'd been holding himself back and was finally letting go. His lips moved against hers with a confidence that left no room for hesitation, and Y/N melted into the kiss, her hand instinctively reaching out to grip the edge of the counter for balance.

She kissed him back just as fervently, tilting her head to deepen the connection. His fingers slid from her throat to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as though he couldn't get enough of her. The heat between them was undeniable, and in that moment, nothing else mattered-not the chill of her broken heater, not the wine, not the playful banter that had led them here.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads nearly touching. Harry's green eyes searched hers, and for once, his usual guarded expression was nowhere to be found.

"Still think I can't handle you?" Y/N whispered, her voice a little breathless but tinged with humor.

Harry smirked, his hand still lingering at the nape of her neck. 

"Guess I underestimated you," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "But l'm not done yet.”

Harry's hand slid down from Y/N's neck to her wrist, his grip firm but careful as he led her through his apartment toward his bedroom.

Her heart pounded in anticipation, her breath catching when he opened the door and gently but deliberately pushed her onto the bed.

Y/N gasped softly, propping herself up on her elbows as she looked up at him. The intensity in his green eyes made her pulse race, and the energy between them was electric, the room feeling heavier with every passing second.

Harry stepped closer, his movements slow and controlled, like he was savoring the moment.

He placed a hand on her throat again, this time with a gentle but deliberate squeeze that sent a shiver down her spine. His thumb brushed along her jawline as he leaned in, his voice low and commanding.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" he asked, his tone dripping with authority and heat.

Y/N's breath hitched as she nodded slowly, unable to look away from his piercing gaze.

Her voice was caught somewhere in her throat, so she let her actions speak for her, tilting her head slightly into his touch.

Harry smirked, leaning down until his lips were just a breath away from her ear. His voice dropped even lower, a whisper that made her skin prickle with anticipation.

"I knew you would be," he murmured, his tone both teasing and possessive.

The words sent a jolt through her, and she felt her body react instinctively, her cheeks flushing as she surrendered to the moment.

Harry's lips brushed against the corner of her jaw, trailing down her neck as his hand stayed firmly but gently in place. Every movement felt deliberate, like he wanted her to feel every second of his attention.

Whatever control Y/N thought she had going into this was slipping fast, and the way Harry's touch consumed her made it clear—he knew it, too.

Harry paused, his intense green eyes meeting Y/N’s as he leaned over her. His hand lingered on her throat, his grip light but enough to hold her attention completely. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, didn’t move any closer. He just looked at her, his gaze softening slightly, as if he were silently asking her a question.

It wasn’t just a look—it was a pause, a chance for her to stop him if she wanted to. His eyes, usually so guarded, were now open and searching, silently asking for her consent.

Y/N’s heart raced as she looked back at him, feeling the weight of his unspoken question. She swallowed, her breath shallow as she gave him the answer he was waiting for. Slowly, purposely, she nodded.

Harry’s lips curved into a faint smile, a mixture of relief and satisfaction crossing his face. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with an edge of tenderness.

He leaned down again, his lips brushing hers as his hand on her throat tightened just slightly, enough to make her feel both safe and completely at his mercy. And as the space between them disappeared, Y/N felt herself giving in fully, her trust in him unwavering.

Harry's piercing gaze never left Y/N's face, his touch as light as a butterfly's wings. He slowly pulled her to the edge, his hands on her hips. The soft rustle of sheets filled the room as she sank into the bedding, eyes darting up to meet his.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him undoing his pants, revealing his hardness beneath. She gulped audibly as he climbed onto the bed with her, their bodies pressed together from chest to knees. His hand trailed down her side, stopping just above her thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. His touch sent shivers of anticipation up and down her spine.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered against her earlobe, his hot breath causing goosebumps to form on her skin.

She bit her lip, hesitating for only a moment before whispering back, "I want you to take control."

Harry's smirk was both predatory and reassuring as he nodded once in understanding. His hand slid underneath her shirt, tracing patterns across her stomach before moving higher till it reached its destination: her lacy black bra. He palmed one of her breasts through the fabric, eliciting a moan from deep within her throat that echoed around them. His thumb circled her nipple roughly, making it harden into a tight bud underneath his touch.

His lips followed suit, kissing along her jawline and trailing down towards that erect nipple. He flicked it with his tongue teasingly while simultaneously tug

His smile was wicked as he leaned back, a glint in his eye. "Is that so?" He trailed kisses down her neck, his stubble grazing against her sensitive skin, making her shudder with pleasure. His hand slid between their bodies and brushed against her center, indulging in the wetness there. She gasped at the sensation, arching into his touch.

"You're so ready for me," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He pushed her shorts aside and slid one finger inside her slowly, feeling the tightness surrounding him. Y/N moaned softly, her hips grinding against his hand in encouragement.

Harry removed his finger, teasing her as he lowered his head to capture one of her nipples in his mouth. He growled softly against her skin, sucking gently as he began to thrust two fingers inside her in short, quick motions that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She cried out softly, gripping the sheets beneath her as he continued his ministrations. He quickly undressed her and stared at her body. Y/N felt hot under his eyes. 

They quickly lost themselves in each other's touches. The squeak of the bedframe echoed in the room as Harry positioned himself at her entrance and pushed inside her slowly. She gasped at the fullness but welcomed it, urging him on with a nod of encouragement.

He slowed down, taking deep breaths to regain control as he braced himself above her. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" he asked hoarsely, gaze locked onto hers.

Y/N nodded fiercely, signaling him to continue. With a low growl of approval, he began moving inside her slowly but steadily, their 

bodies meeting in a dance of desire. Every thrust sent ripples of pleasure through them both, their skin slick with sweat under the dim light of the bedside lamp. The air was thick with an almost palpable tension as they moved together, the sound of their bodies meeting filling the room.

Harry's grip on her hips tightened, his rhythm becoming faster and harder, mirroring the desire that flared in his eyes. Y/N met him stroke for stroke, their eyes locked on each other as if they were the only two people in the room. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the silence beneath the duvet, broken only by their heavy breathing and soft moans.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she neared her climax, his name falling from her lips in a whispered plea. Without missing a beat, he quickened his pace, his cock driving into her with urgency. Their connection was intense, overwhelming, everything she could have asked for and more.

As she cried out in ecstasy beneath him, feeling her orgasm wash over her like a wave, Harry followed close behind. His body tensed as he groaned loudly, filling her with his warmth and love. Their hearts raced in unison as they finally collapsed onto each other, panting heavily but content.

He rolled off her slowly, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead before rolling onto his back beside her. 

Harry lay on his side, propped up on one elbow as he looked down at Y/N. His green eyes were softer now, a flicker of mischief dancing in them as he smirked. 

"So," he said, his voice low and teasing, "are you going to text your little girl chat and tell them we fucked?" Y/N let out a surprised laugh, turning her head to look at him. 

"What? No! They'd never let me live it down."

Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. 

"You should. Tell them the hot, mysterious guy was really grumpy the whole time."Y/N laughed even harder, covering her face with her hand. 

"Oh, right. That'll really sell it. 'Hey, girls, just an FYl, my grumpy neighbor is not only hot but also excellent in bed. Highly recommend.'"

Harry chuckled, his grin widening. "Not bad. Make sure you add in the part about how I stayed in character the whole time-grumpy and all."

She rolled her eyes, still smiling as she nudged him playfully. "Fine. I'll throw in that your scowl is even sexier up close. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," he said dryly, though the amused glint in his eyes gave him away. YN shook her head, the laughter subsiding into a warm smile.

 "You know," she said, her tone softening, "you might be mysterious and grumpy, but you're also a little cocky. Just saying."

Harry leaned down, his face inches from hers.

"Maybe," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "But I think you like it."

Her cheeks flushed as she looked up at him, biting back a grin. "Maybe I do."

"Good," he said simply, before capturing her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss that made her forget about everything else-including her friends waiting for updates in the group chat.

The week passed in a blur of near-misses and brief encounters between Y/N and Harry. She saw him in the mailroom once, where he gave her a small nod and the faintest hint of a smirk before disappearing upstairs. Another time, they crossed paths in the hallway, exchanging quick hellos but nothing more.

Neither of them brought up the night they spent together, and while Y/N tried to brush it off as a casual hookup, part of her couldn’t help but wonder if he was deliberately avoiding the topic. She didn’t want to push, figuring Harry would open up if and when he was ready.

Then, one evening, as she was curled up on her couch with a glass of wine and her laptop, her phone buzzed with a text.

Harry:

Hey. Sorry I’ve been so distant this week. The gallery is getting ready for a new showing, and it’s been… a lot.

Y/N stared at the message for a moment, her stomach fluttering. She hadn’t expected him to reach out, let alone apologize.

Y/N:

Hey, no worries. I figured you were busy. New showing sounds exciting though!

A moment later, her phone buzzed again.

Harry:

It is. Stressful, but worth it. You should come by. It’s this Saturday night. Bring your friends if you want.

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Harry inviting her to his gallery? That felt… significant.

Y/N:

I’d love to. Are you sure you want me to bring my friends? They’re a little… loud.

Harry:

If they’re anything like you, I’m already prepared for chaos.

She laughed softly, shaking her head.

Y/N:

Fair warning: chaos is guaranteed. But I’ll be there.

Harry:

Good. I’ll send you the details tomorrow.

Y/N set her phone down, a small smile tugging at her lips. For all of Harry’s grumpiness and guarded demeanor, this felt like his way of extending an olive branch—a step toward something more. And she couldn’t deny that the idea of seeing him in his element, at the gallery, intrigued her.

She grabbed her phone again and opened the group chat with Harper and Lila.

Y/N:

Ladies, clear your schedules for Saturday night. We’re going to an art gallery.

Predictably, her phone exploded with responses almost immediately.

Lila:

Wait, is this Harry’s gallery?

Harper:

The grumpy tattooed neighbor has an art gallery?

Y/N:

Yes. He invited me. And before you ask—no, we’re not talking about the other night.

Lila:

Boring. But fine, we’re in. Is there wine?

Harper:

And snacks?

Y/N:

I’ll ask. But behave yourselves. He already thinks I’m loud.

Lila:

Oh, honey, we’re just getting started.

Y/N laughed, already imagining the chaos her friends would inevitably bring. But deep down, she was looking forward to Saturday more than she cared to admit. 

The week crawled by as Saturday approached, each day slower than the last. Y/N found herself obsessing over small details—whether Harry would be too busy to notice her, what kind of people attended art gallery showings, and most importantly, what to wear. She wanted to look effortlessly put-together, like someone who appreciated art but wasn’t trying too hard.

By Saturday afternoon, her room was a battlefield of discarded outfits. Finally, she settled on a sleek black jumpsuit paired with a cropped denim jacket and ankle boots—stylish but not over the top. She added a few gold accessories and a swipe of lipstick before grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

On the way to Silver Lake, she picked up Harper and Lila, who were already buzzing with excitement when they climbed into the car.

“You look hot,” Lila said, eyeing her outfit. “Very ‘I like art but I’m too cool to talk about it.’”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, laughing as she started the car. “I’m going for low-key, not intimidating.”

“Well, mission accomplished,” Harper chimed in, adjusting her blazer. 

Y/N glanced at them in the rearview mirror, grinning. Harper wore a bold red jumpsuit, while Lila had opted for a metallic skirt and leather jacket. 

By the time they pulled into Silver Lake, the sun had set, and the neighborhood was alive with energy. The gallery came into view, its windows glowing warmly against the evening sky. People were milling about on the sidewalk, chatting in small groups with glasses of wine in hand, while others filtered in and out of the bustling space.

“This is it,” Y/N said, parking the car and taking a deep breath.

“It’s so fancy,” Lila said, practically bouncing in her seat. “Look at all these people!”

Harper leaned forward, peering out the window. “I’m already picturing Harry brooding in a corner, glaring at anyone who talks too loud.”

“Probably,” Y/N muttered, her heart fluttering as she got out of the car. She grabbed her bag and adjusted her jacket before turning to her friends. “Okay, let’s not embarrass me too much, yeah?”

“No promises,” Harper said with a grin, looping her arm through Y/N’s as they headed toward the gallery entrance.

Inside, the space was even more vibrant. The walls were adorned with bold, eclectic pieces of art—paintings, sculptures, and mixed-media pieces that immediately drew attention. Soft music played in the background, and servers wove through the crowd with trays of wine and hors d’oeuvres. The hum of conversation filled the air, blending with the occasional burst of laughter.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room, searching for Harry. She didn’t spot him right away, but she noticed how carefully curated the space felt—each piece arranged with intention. It was a reflection of him, she realized, meticulous and thoughtful.

“This is amazing,” Harper said, grabbing a glass of wine from a passing server. “He really knows what he’s doing.”

Lila nudged Y/N. “Speaking of, where is Mr. Grumpy Art Dealer? I want to see him in his element.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N said, glancing around again. “He’s probably—”

Before she could finish, her gaze landed on him. Harry stood near the back of the room, dressed in a crisp black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showcasing his tattoos. He was talking to a small group of people, but his eyes flicked toward her as if he could feel her presence.

Their gazes locked for a moment, and he gave her a subtle nod before turning back to his conversation. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt Lila squeeze her arm.

“Oh, he definitely saw you,” Lila said, grinning. “And I’m not imagining the way he looked at you.”

“Stop,” Y/N hissed, her cheeks flushing. But she couldn’t deny it—there was something in his gaze that felt personal, even in the middle of the crowd.

“Go say hi,” Harper urged, giving her a nudge.

“Not yet,” Y/N said, grabbing a glass of wine for herself. “I’ll wait until he’s free. Let’s just look around first.”

As they wandered through the gallery, admiring the artwork, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that Harry’s eyes were on her—even when she wasn’t looking his way.

Y/N wandered through the gallery, sipping her wine as she admired the artwork. Each piece was so different—some abstract, others intricate and detailed—but all of them carried a sense of purpose. It was easy to see that Harry had a good eye for curating.

She glanced across the room and saw Harper and Lila chatting animatedly with a group of women, likely bonding over their outfits or the wine. Typical, she thought with a smile, shaking her head.

As she moved to the next painting—a striking piece of layered colors and textures—she felt someone step up beside her. There was a shift in the air, a quiet presence that made her turn her head.

It was Harry.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the painting. His black shirt, with the sleeves still rolled up, contrasted sharply against the warm tones of the art, and his tattoos seemed to blend seamlessly into the aesthetic of the space.

“It’s acrylic and resin,” he said, his voice low but steady. “The artist used palette knives for the texture and then poured resin over it to give it that shine. Took weeks to cure properly.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard for a moment before she found her words. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly, turning her attention back to the piece. “I love the depth in it. It feels like you could reach in and get lost.”

Harry glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “That’s the idea. The artist wanted it to feel immersive, like stepping into an emotional landscape.”

She looked at him, her curiosity piqued. “Do you know all the details of every piece in here?”

“Pretty much,” he admitted, his smirk growing. “Part of the job. I like to understand the process—it helps me connect with the artists and explain it to people who come through.”

Y/N smiled, sipping her wine. “It’s impressive. You’ve created something really special here.”

Harry looked at her again, his green eyes studying her for a moment. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “It means a lot, coming from you.”

She tilted her head, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “Why me?”

He shrugged slightly, his gaze flicking back to the painting. “Because you actually look at the art. Most people just see it, but you’re trying to understand it.”

Her cheeks warmed at the unexpected compliment, and she turned back to the painting to hide her flustered expression. “Well, you make it hard not to appreciate it. The way you talk about it… it’s obvious how much you care.”

He didn’t respond right away, and the silence between them felt comfortable, almost intimate. Finally, he leaned in just slightly, his voice softer now.

“I’m glad you came,” he said.

Y/N turned to look at him again, her heart skipping a beat at the closeness between them. “Me too,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, the bustling crowd around them faded into the background, leaving just the two of them standing there, the art surrounding them as if it were part of their story.

Harry slipped his hand into Y/N’s, his fingers warm and steady as he gently tugged her through the gallery. She followed without question, her curiosity mounting as they weaved between groups of people. He didn’t say a word, just led her down a quieter section of the space where fewer people were lingering.

When they stopped, Y/N noticed the piece in front of them was a painting—bold yet delicate, with strokes that somehow conveyed both strength and softness. She tilted her head, studying it, drawn to the way the light and shadows played across the figure in the painting. There was something familiar about it, something that tugged at her memory.

She took a step closer, her heart beating faster as the realization slowly dawned on her. The painting wasn’t just beautiful—it was her.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she turned to Harry, her eyes wide. “Is this…?”

He nodded, his gaze steady but unreadable. “It’s you.”

Y/N stared at the painting again, her mind racing. The details were unmistakable—the way her hair fell, the soft curve of her face, the hint of a thoughtful expression she’d never realized she wore. But it wasn’t just her likeness; it was the way the he had captured something deeper, something vulnerable and raw.

“How?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “I started it a few weeks after I moved in. I didn’t even know your name then. I just… saw you.”

Her chest tightened as she turned to him again. “You saw me?”

He nodded, his green eyes softer now. “In the mailroom. In the hallway. On your balcony once, drinking coffee. I didn’t know why, but there was something about you that I couldn’t get out of my head. So, I painted.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, a mix of emotions swirling inside her—flattery, disbelief, and something she couldn’t quite name. “Harry, this is… incredible. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I just thought you should see it. This is the first time I’ve shown it to anyone.”

Her heart thudded in her chest, and she took a step closer to him, her voice soft. “Why me?”

Harry’s gaze locked on hers, his expression open and sincere. “Because it’s you, Y/N. I couldn’t have painted this if it wasn’t.”

The noise of the gallery faded around them as she stood there, her hand still in his, staring up at the painting of herself. For the first time, she saw herself through someone else’s eyes—not as the loud, chaotic neighbor, but as something worthy of being captured in art.

And Harry, the grumpy, mysterious neighbor, was the one who had done it.

[mostly-imagines]

Moonstruck

jason todd x reader

aka sober thoughts and all that

warnings: intoxication

Jason has a thing about drinking around you. He’d kind of skirted around it for a while when you were first dating, but after a while you’d noticed he never really has more than a drink or two regardless of how much you had. The only times you ever see him drink more is when he’s downing whiskey as a pain mitigater when he needs stitches. You’d initially assumed he just wasn’t a big drinker, but eventually you’d come to realize it was more of a matter of not wanting to lose his inhibitions around you. 

You know he’s still working on trusting himself, even sober, because he’s terrified of accidentally hurting you. But you have a hard time imagining him losing control like that in any state and you’re nearly certain he’s just being hard on himself.

You’ve been falling in and out of less than peaceful sleep for the past few hours, having trouble easing yourself while your boyfriend is still out. You at least attempted to get to bed earlier tonight because for once he isn’t out fighting crime and risking injury, though you haven’t found much more luck than usual. 

You lie on your back, half ready to give up and turn on a movie while you wait.

You’re momentarily startled to hear Dick bellow out your name, no regard for the fact that it’s nearing three in the morning and you have neighbors. He’s not much of a shouter so you’re instantly on alert, worried that he or Jason are hurt.

You fumble out of bed and rush to the living room, surprised to find your fire escape empty. You turn, proceeding towards the front door, opening it cautiously. 

“Dick? What—” You don’t need to finish your question because the second you take one good look at the two of them, the state of them is immediately clear. Dick, who’s barely standing upright on his own, supports your boyfriend's weight via Jason’s arm slinged around his shoulder.

“Hey!” Dick grins at you, far more lively than he has any business being this late at night. “Sorry, couldn’t remember which apartment was yours.”

You nod pensively, “Well the perspective’s different than when you’re coming in through the window.”

He continues on past that without thought, “I’ve come to deliver,” he says, gesturing up to Jason with a bit of a strain. You’re pretty sure there were supposed to be a couple more words at the end of that sentence but you understand well enough anyway.

You nod, eyebrows raised and try to hide a smile. “Thanks, Dick.” He shifts your boyfriend off of his shoulder to lean him up against the door frame, where Jason places a majority of his weight.

You eye him warily, not confident in his steadiness. He seems to hold well enough against the heavy door though, his eyes drifting around the tiled floor. Your attention shifts to Dick, who’s clearly satisfied with a job well done and ready to go.

You tilt your head, seeing him turn away. “You good?”

“I’m great!” He calls out with a thumbs up. You watch as he staggers away, nearly missing the exit.

You look back over at Jason, who’s already staring at you with a soft gaze. “You’re pretty,” he fawns, irises blown out and flickering all over your face.

“Oh you’re drunk drunk.” You grin, watching him stumble forward a bit.

He shakes his head, looking a bit dizzy after, “Shoulda seen Tim.”

You pause mid laugh, “…Who drove you here?”

He falters at that, gaze falling to the floor. “Uh…” He winces, “Damian…”

You nod slowly, eyes wide, “We’re gonna talk about that tomorrow.”

“He’s better than you’d think.” You’d hope so. 

Well, at least he’s spending time with his brothers.

You sigh, straightening your posture in preparation for the job to come. “Alright, come on big guy,” you pull him up from his slant against the wall, hauling him into the same position he’d been in with Dick—though you’re struggling significantly more to hold him upright. “You gotta help me out here, Jay,” you grunt, trying very hard not to fold under his weight. You swat the door shut behind you, making peace with the fact that he’ll scold you in the morning for not locking it.

He presses an uncoordinated kiss to the side of your head as you try to shuffle him along, not interested in the least in easing your labor. His self discipline isn't quite gone, but his awareness of how big he is sure seems to be. 

You wobble from the heavy weight of his arm around your shoulders, holding onto him by his waist. You manage to get him to sidestep your cat, narrowly, though Salem hisses at him all the same. Jason takes no notice. You stumble into your bedroom with only about 30% of his usual balance aiding your effort.

He collapses onto the bed the second his legs hit the frame, pulling you down with him. You lie, somewhat awkwardly, on his chest as he holds you tight—probably tighter than he would if he were sober. It feels nice though.

You lie your cheek flat on his chest, relaxing against him. “What’d you guys do? Thought you were just having an easy night.”

He takes a deep breath before answering, “Raided Dick’s liquor c—” he stops, mulling over his words. “...Bruce’s liquor that was in Dick’s cabinet.” He annunciates every word in that sentence very carefully.

You squint speculatively, “Didn’t take Dick for the stealing type.”

He grumbles, “He’s not. ‘Less it’s Bruce.”

You can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face, “Aw, you really do take after your big brother, don’t you?” 

He scoffs at that, “I don’t. I’m the one who gave him the idea.” Yeah, that sounds right.

He taps on your cheek lightly and you pick your head up to find him looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“What’s that look for?”

“Can I kiss you?” his eyes drop down to your lips, “I really wanna kiss you.” He’s nearly whispering and you feel your heart skip several beats at the feeling of his eyes on you like this.

You press a light kiss to his lips and he practically purrs.  

You pull back, admiring the serene expression on his face. “You taste like whiskey.”

“I like whiskey,” he says honestly.

You smile, nodding. “I know. Don’t know why, but..”

He leans in for another kiss but you parry, only letting his lips meet your cheek. He frowns grimly, attempting to chase your lips. 

“Lemme kiss you,” the pout on his face is adorable and while you hesitate to deny him, you retreat, resting your chin on his chest.

You smile wistfully, tracing his cheekbone, “You’re drunk, baby.”

“‘M not that drunk,” he tells you, though everything about him says otherwise.

Your hand falls flat on his shoulder. “Your eleven year old brother drove you here.”

He shrugs, “He can drive the bat…batcar? Bat…”

“Batmobile,” you finish.

“The batmobile.” he nods, as if he was seconds away from remembering. You suspect he wasn’t. 

“Bruce lets him drive it?” you question, wholly disbelieving.

“No.”

Enough said.

“You’re gonna be hungover as hell in the morning,” you mumble, taking in his uninhibited demeanor.

He nods that off, “‘S okay. You’ll be here, right?”

You tilt your head, observing him chalantly. “Where else would I go?”

His arms snake tighter around you at that, giving you a little squeeze before relenting. 

“I wanna marry you,” he murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face and tucking it neatly behind your ear. 

You blink rapidly a few times, “What?” You push yourself up on his chest, sitting up on his abdomen.

“Wanna marry you.” He repeats, eyes lidded as he breathes easy under you. “You’re m’favorite person…want you t’be my wife.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. “..You want me to be your wife?”

His lips are slightly parted and his pupils are wide as he stares up at you, taking in your features carefully. “‘Course I do.” He brings his fingers up to your cheek, touching you softly with all the wonderment of a little kid. “You’re so pretty.”

You’re quick to return, “So are you.” Especially right now.

He shuts his eyes momentarily, shaking his head morosely, “You gotta stop bein’ so nice t’me,” he lets his hand fall to rest on your thigh. “Don’t deserve it.”

“Shut up,” you lour, “You deserve it more than anybody.”

“No. Not more than you,” his hands knead at your thighs like it’s an instinct. “You deserve everything.” He closes his eyes, tilting his chin up as his head sinks further back into the pillow. “Think I’d do anything you wanted.”

“Jay—”

He continues on, “Want you t’be happy. Wanna make you happy.”

Your face falls into an expression of dazed awe, “You do make me happy.”

He dwindles at that, “No, really happy. Take care of you. Build you a house, give you babies. Wha’ever you want.”

He paws at your thighs, trying to get you to come closer again to him. You lay back down on top of him and his hand instantly buries itself in your hair, stroking softly. “You’re just…you’re so perfect…” He turns his head to mumble against your forehead, “Feel like I dreamed you, sometimes.”

You breathe deeply against the crook of his neck, eyes feeling glassy. “I love you.” It’s all you can get out, and it’s not enough, but it’s all of it. 

“I love you,” he says like he’s trying to turn it into gospel. “So much. I love you so much, so fuckin’ much.” His words start to get lost in his weary babbling.

Your chest feels full and you can distinctly feel every beat of your heart against it. Or maybe it’s Jason’s heart. But what’s the difference?

You press a tender kiss to the nape of his neck. “You’re really sweet when you’re drunk, you know that?”

He hums lowly, head lulling against yours.

You still for a second, finding his breathing has slowed and his hand has seized its movement in your hair. His soft breaths fill the air as you press a kiss to his collarbone before settling in completely. “You’re gonna love when I tell you about this in the morning,” you whisper, letting your eyes shut too.

💗 likes are the poor mans reblog 💗

[st7rnioioss]

omgggg can you please do bestfriend chris guiding inexperienced reader on how to ride for the first time

BSF!CHRIS GUIDING INEXPERIENCED!READER HOW TO RIDE

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... smut, p in v, unprotected sex (nuh uh!!), kissing, mentions of hickeys, lowkey hate this💔

“shh- hey. it’s okay, you’re doing so, so good..” chris mumbled, his hands stuck on your hips while his thumbs traced mindless circles over your soft skin, admiring your pretty form on top of him.

your face was contorted with pleasure, eyebrows knit together and eyes pinched shut while trying to adjust to his size. you were sucking him in, his tip already kissing your cervix as you sat on top of him, your walls fluttering around his thick stretch.

“mhh- chris.. i- i can’t-“ your voice cut through the constant praise and sweet murmurs from chris, your nails digging crescent-shaped moons into his shoulders.

he let a soft groan fall from his lips, running one of his hands up your back in a comforting manner, attempting to soothe your nerves and pain just a little. your pussy was already drooling around him, and all it took was a couple right words and a pair of fingers.

“yes you can, sweetheart.. fuck, such a pretty sight. can you believe i haven’t made you do this earlier, huh?” his question was mostly rhetorically asked, not really expecting an answer from you because of the already fucked out expression plastered on your face. gosh, you haven’t even started yet.

“um.. n-no..?” you shook your head weakly, your eyes batting back open to look down at him, his head thrown back against the headboard of his bed, your response earning a chuckle from him.

“i- i think i’m ready..” your words were mumbled, but chris nodded, clearing his throat as he tightened his grip on your hips.

“i’ll help you, okay? then you’ll try.” you nodded in response, his hands slowly guiding your body to move in a back and forth motion, his eyes flickering to your face to see your reaction, if it made you feel good.

still clawing at his shoulders, your jaw fell slack, letting strings of moans fall from your parted lips. chris was nearly about to cum from just the sight, almost not believing a second of what he was seeing—his best friend since forever, riding him like that.. well, grinding.

“yeah? y’like that?” he chuckled dryly, looking up at you through his lashes from his halfway-shut eyes, nearly leaving marks from his tight grip.

whines fell from your lips as you ground on him, your clit brushing perfectly over his pelvis. chris’s grip on your hips became tighter, gently attempting to lift you, helping you ride him properly this time.

“o-oh.. oh my god-“ you moan, pinching your eyes shut at his tip kissed at your cervix over and over again. “f-feels good..”

chris could tell you were close already from how you basically squeezed around him, your cheeks flushed and lips parted into a perfect o-shape.

“so beautiful.. can’t believe i’m the only one who gets to see you like this,” he smirked up at you, deciding to loosen his grip on you, causing your movements to still. your eyes flutter back open in confusion, his fingers making their way to your waist instead.

“w-what are you doing?” you whined, your hands running down across his chest, eyes glued to his.

“come on. keep going baby, you can do it,” he lightly ran a thumb over your bottom lip that was stuck in a pout, dragging it down just enough to part your lips.

but you couldn’t. at least that’s what you had convinced yourself. “chris.. i can’t, please! it hurts..” you whined and pleaded, but chris just shook his head in return.

“oh, poor thing.. don’t be whiny, just do what i did, yeah? i promise it’ll feel better in a second,” he cooed, his hand cupping your face to lean in, pressing a kiss to your lips while his hand snaked to the back of your head, keeping the kiss simple but firm.

pulling away with a faint smile, you nodded. with your hands still on his chest, you tried moving your hips until you found a somewhat nice pace and motion. pretty moans slipped from your lips that echoed with the lewd squelches from your leaky cunt, eliciting a groan from chris.

“juuust like that.. that’s good-“ he murmured with a strain to his voice, his fingers gripping your waist almost leaving red marks, complimenting the ones he left earlier down your neck and collarbone.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head before batting them shut, eyebrows knitted up in pleasure as you desperately tried your best to keep going, to keep up your face.

but it was getting hard, your thighs aching from the unfamiliar stretch, from both the uncomfortable position and how snug chris was stuffed inside of you.

“chris! g’nna… c-cum..” you babbled between whimpers, letting go of his chest to hold onto his shoulders again, your movements turning sloppy and haphazard.

“g-go ahead.. y’look so adorable, doing just what i’m telling you to,” a choked moan fell from his lips, before taking the plush and swollen lip between his teeth.

when the waves crashed over you, letting loud and careless noises slip from between your lips, he helped you ride out your high, before you both stilled your movements. chris wrapped his arms around you, letting you collapse onto his chest.

“so pretty.. y’think you can keep going for me, angel?” he whispered while playing with strands of your hair, his lips grazing your ear before his hands sneaked back down to your hips.

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: that fucking cheetah print jacket you fucking hottie!!! anyway- not over the fact my fic was in an edit.. im literally sobbinggg its so funny to me. love you freaks!:33

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @forgottxen @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what’s mine is yours

synopsis. suguru is a good best friend—he shares everything. just this once, he shares you too

word count. 2.1k (it's short i promise)

contents. fem! reader, reader is suguru's girlfriend, minors do not interact, virgin satoru <3, cuckolding, fingering, safe sex (who am i ?? jk suguru would not let satoru hit raw lol), petnames (princess, baby, and sweetheart), suguru teaching satoru how to fuck <3

notes. dash pls look away. i am horny at 1 am

satoru, for all his big talk and loud front all these years, is still a virgin. suguru finds it a tad bit funny—but out of the kindness of his heart, he decides to help his best friend change that.

how? you, of course.

“be careful how you handle her,” suguru says with a sly smile, “she’s still my girlfriend—and i have to take care of her. isn’t that right, baby?” his gaze turns to you, finger stroking your cheek gently as you whimper.

“so wet,” satoru mumbles, fingers sinking curiously into your dripping cunt, flexing slowly to pump in and out of you as you whine. his fingers are long, maybe longer than suguru’s—but not nearly as skilled.

“yeah?” suguru chuckles, “bet you like that, huh? careful though, satoru—don’t get used to this. she’s still mine.”

suguru, the ever gracious best friend, has always been one to share. he decides perhaps he can extend the favor to include his girlfriend too—but you’re precious, sweet and kind and oh so doting. he can’t share you permanently. no, it’s a one time thing—after that, satoru will have to find his own perfect little pussy to savor.

“you really get all of this? all to yourself?” satoru marvels, thumbing your clit as you gasp, your hand reaching over to clutch at suguru’s pants. his hand rests over yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he hums soothingly.

“yeah,” your boyfriend grins, “every day. whenever i want. right, baby?”

“uh huh,” you nod—and then you cut yourself off with a squeal when satoru’s fingertips brush against that sweet spot deep within your walls, making you flutter around him with a tight squeeze. he doesn’t find it as easily as suguru, doesn’t know how to angle and curl the tips of his fingers when he sinks into you.

and fuck, satoru thinks, suguru is so damn lucky.

“she’s a vocal one,” he chuckles, “you’ve been living the dream.”

“you should hear her when you use your mouth,” suguru chuckles—how embarrassing. you want to crawl onto his lap and hide away in his neck, hide away from satoru’s eyes that are watching you so carefully. satoru has good eyes—the best, even.

but you also like it. for some reason, when his eyes stare down at you with a darkened shade of blue you’ve never seen before, you feel the slick pooling from your core, smearing down your thighs and glossing over his fingers, wetter than ever.

satoru has that effect on people—even if he is a bit inexperienced.

“do i get to do that too?” he asks, sending your boyfriend a lopsided smirk.

suguru raises a brow, tightening his hand’s grip on yours before grunting a low, “don’t get ahead of yourself, satoru.”

“you said it yourself, suguru,” he chuckles, “what’s mine is yours.”

“not her,” suguru growls. and then, sweetly, he turns to you before pecking your forehead with a gentleness he keeps for only you. “you ready, princess?”

“princess,” satoru repeats thoughtfully, “yeah i guess you’re a bit of a princess, aren’t ya?”

“p-please,” you sniffle, tugging on suguru’s wrist, “need more, sugu.”

“yeah? he’s not doing his job, is he?” suguru pouts in sympathy, but his eyes are laced with amusement—like he’s enjoying the show in front of him. you’re sure he is, if the throbbing erection he sports is of any hint.

“hey,” satoru gasps, wounded, “i’m doing exactly what you told me—”

“here,” suguru throws him a condom, cutting him off, “put that on. you’re out of your mind if you think you’re feeling her. that’s only for me.”

“fine,” satoru huffs. you watch as he rolls the condom over his neglected cock—it’s red, swollen and aching, flushed at the tip and drooling with pre cum as he hisses when his hand wraps around it.

it’s pretty, you’ll give him that. satoru isn’t as thick as suguru, but he makes up for it by being a bit longer. he curves a bit with a thick vein running along the underside of his cock, balls heavy as they hang painfully, achingly full. he’s neatly trimmed—messy white strands of hair unlike suguru’s dark ones. you don’t know which one you prefer, if you could even pick one of you had to.

you watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his mouth parts with a low gasp when he accidentally teases the tip a bit as he clumsily works the rubber over himself. he’s sensitive at the head—just like suguru. gives those sweet little breathy whimpers when his slit is thumbed at. it’s cute, you think, maybe not as cute as suguru—but it’s still pretty adorable.

“go slow when you go in,” suguru warns, “if you hurt her, i’ll kill you.”

“she’s tough, she can take it,” satoru pats your cheek with a sly grin, “aren’t you, princess?”

“watch it, satoru,” you hear suguru growl, “don’t get too comfortable.”

“aw, it’s all in good fun, right? she’s taking it so well.”

you do take it well—you let satoru’s fingers play with your for ages, let him learn where to find that sensitive spot is in the back of your walls, let him rub your clit slowly—even if you ache for those fast circles suguru always gifts you with. and now, you’re even letting him slide into you, slowly but surely, inching his hardened cock into your impatiently wet cunt with agonizing patience.

“that feel good, baby?” suguru asks you once satoru’s buried to the hilt, splitting you almost in two as you breathe unevenly and nod. and satoru? well, he’s not faring any better—grit teeth and clenched jaw, panting harshly as he focuses on not cumming right then and there.

you’re tight—way tighter than his hand, and way warmer too. fuck suguru for making him wear the condom, and fuck suguru for landing such a perfect pussy too. he doesn’t know how he’s meant to go back to using his fist after a taste of this.

“you can move now—go slow at first, and then go faster when she’s close. she likes that. and don’t forget this,” suguru’s hand travels to your clit, giving a soft little pat that makes you whimper before he rubs it with those quick circles you love so much. “she likes when you touch this too. they all do—so when you get yourself your own girl to fuck, make sure you remember that.”

“i know what the clit is,” satoru grumbles, “i’ve watched porn, y’know.”

“i bet,” suguru chuckles, “is this your first time seeing a clit in person? pretty, isn’t it? everything about her is pretty.”

“suguru,” you whine in embarrassment, burying your head back into the pillow as much as you can, “you talk so much.”

“baby,” he insists, “someone has to humble him. he’s all bark and no bite.”

“i can too bite,” satoru grunts—and to prove it, he angles his hips to pull out, almost completely, before thrusting back into you. you cry out—clutching suguru’s hand tightly as your tits bounce. satoru let’s out a choked moan, gasping as you squeeze around his sensitive cock, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure.

it’s so good. suguru has it so good. you’re so good—perfect, even.

“f-fuck, more, need more,” you sob, and because suguru can’t help himself, his hand grabs at your tit, pinching and tugging at your nipple as he lets you squeeze his other hand in yours. “please, please—faster.”

“you heard her,” suguru hums, “she needs it faster.”

satoru’s good at fucking you—for his first time, he’s got your back arching and toes curling rather quickly. the blunt head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot with ease, long and curved enough to nudge against it with every roll of his hips. of course, no one knows how to fuck you until you see stars like suguru—but he comes to a close second.

your gasps have turned into long, wanton moans, and satoru moans in sync, head falling next to yours on the pillow as his breath fans over your shoulder with every harsh pant. his hips are rutting into you, slamming desperately as he feels you squeeze around him with every deep thrust. you can hear the squelching sound of your arousal as he bullies into your dripping cunt, smeared along the insides of your thighs. it’s messy, it’s rushed, it’s desperate and it feels so, so good.

satoru has never felt this good—and you? well….you have to admit you’ve never felt like this before either. it’s new, maybe not better, but certainly not worse.

“oh, fuck,” satoru groans, voice cracking as he whines against your shoulder, “f-fuck your so tight—‘s so good. so, so good….’m not g-gonna last much longer.”

“are you close, baby?” suguru strokes your cheek, watching as your eyes squeeze and your face twists in pleasure, “can’t have him be the only one cumming. that’s no good.”

“close! ‘m…’m so close, sugu. gonna cum,” you gasp as you nod.

if satoru wasn’t so lost on the feeling of your tight walls constricting around him, fluttering so perfectly that he almost feels like he can’t move, he might have protested that you addressed suguru and not him—he’s the one fucking you after all. it should be him you’re telling that you’re close, not your boyfriend. just because suguru is your boyfriend doesn’t mean he’s the one who gets to bear the reward for making you cum.

right now, that’s satoru.

“aw c’mon, sweetheart, you’re gonna—o-oh, shit,” he cuts himself off with a breathy moan, “you’re gonna make me cry. say my name too, yeah?”

“satoru,” suguru warns lowly.

“see? jus’ like that. yeah, pretty? say it just how suguru did,” satoru, murmurs against your ear, biting your earlobe softly.

your hand, much to suguru’s dismay, tugs from his grasp so your arms can wrap around satoru’s neck and cling to his large figure as he towers over you, fucking you mercilessly. his pace is frenzied now—that steady ache building up in his throbbing length is about to burst, and that coil in your belly feels like it’ll snap any second too.

“s-satoru, please—‘m c-close, so close,” you mewl, “wanna cum.”

he grins, blue eyes raking over your body as his thumb finds your clit and rubs harshly over it in that way you’ve been craving.

“yeah? you close, pretty? ‘s good to hear. i am too,” he murmurs lowly, finishing the sentence off with a shaky gasp as you squeeze around him.

and then you fall over the edge—he sends you hurtling into your high before you can ever register it. it’s new, satoru thinks—it makes his hips stutter for a second when he feels you spasm around his cock like that, sucking him in and squeezing around him enough that he chokes on a whimper and cums right then and there too. he thinks it’s a miracle he held out just long enough to cum after you, thanking anyone who’s listened to his prayers of lasting. it’s almost impossible not to finish immediately with how your walls hug around his length.

by now, his hips have lost any rhythm they might’ve had before, sloppily rutting into you as he desperately rides out his orgasm, thick ropes of cum spilling into the condom that separates him from fully feeling your warmth. he’s sensitive—his cock is throbbing even as he lets go of that built up tension in the form of white, hot release. you milk him until he’s almost certain he’s got nothing left to give, dry and worn out from the way you pulse so harshly around him.

“so good—m-make me feel so good,” satoru breathes in wonder as he finishes, thumb slowing itself along your clit before his body slumps over yours.

it’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s a mess of limbs as he rests over you, still quivering over your body from the aftershocks of his orgasm. it’s earth shattering—how you make him feel. has he really been missing out on this all this time?

“you’re heavy,” you grumble, patting at his shoulder. he chuckles into your neck, catching his breath.

“yeah? heavier than suguru?”

“i’m careful enough to collapse next to her,” suguru mutters from the side.

“fuck, that was amazing,” satoru rolls over, sprawling himself on the mattress next to you, chest heaving as he breathes, “i see why suguru spoils you so much. you keep him happy, huh?”

“oh yes,” suguru drawls, eyes narrowing. gently, he grabs your wrist and tugs at you, making you sit up as you eye the bulge in his pants and the large wet spot of pre cum staining the fabric. “you’ll see just how happy she makes me in a second here—she’s good with her mouth too.”

idk what possessed me to write this i rly don't. all i know is i want them both carnally

NO PART TWO — please STOP commenting that

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: boyfriend Katsuki's strange guilty pleasure, harassment, nasty online comments, noncon ideations, online pervs

♡ FEM reader

“I’m borrowing your laptop, Kats!” you call. 

He’s in the bath, so you’re not sure he heard you, but also, you don’t think it’s any big deal. You’ve been a couple for years now, and living together has only brought you closer. Besides, it’s not as if you’re going to snoop or anything—you’re just going to check something real quick while you charge yours.

You rethink it when you have to write in his password. Maybe it would be better to just wait for your own machine to get ready—it’s not as if you’re in a hurry or anything. But then again, at the same time, it doesn’t hurt to give it your best guess.

Right on the first try—your name and birthday. Though you appreciate the gesture, he really should see into getting something stronger than that. The information he is privy to through his work is quite sensitive, after all.

But anyway. Onto the task at hand. You click into the browser. It’s already got some tabs open. 

You don’t mean to let your eyes wander, but it just can’t be helped. Katsuki sits before this thing, sometimes for hours during the day. Of course, most of it is surely work-related, writing incident rapports and profiles and the like. But this page right here… you don’t know… something about it seems strange.

“Some type of forum…” you mutter to no one but yourself. Katsuki had never struck you as the type to neither read nor partake in other people’s banter. Again, you’d promised yourself you weren’t going to pry, but it only takes a few seconds to read the comments—it’s over before you can stop yourself.

I bet she’s a squealer, like a really cute squealer

I wanna tie her up in an abandoned building somewhere no one will hear her scream

Same, but not on the bed though, on the floor and take her like a bitch

I‘m sure dynamight fucks her every day, i know i would! 

Dynamight’s such a lucky guy I hate him

You blink reading through the comments—completely having forgotten what you were doing in the first place. Who are these people? What are these comments about? You keep scrolling, eyebrows knit, and then you see it—your name. 

She looks like the type of girl that lets her man fuck her anywhere he wants whenever he wants

I’d literally kill for an hour of having her alone. And I’d make good use of that hour. Make her dump that blond asshat to be with me.

If she were my girlfriend, I’d keep her leashed to the bed with a collar. Can’t have other guys looking at her when she’s mine.

I’d only feed her cum. Trust me, she wouldn’t go hungry.

You’re eyes are fully wide now. Are all these chats about you? What’s Katsuki doing in a place like this? Reading all these sick comments as if he isn’t your boyfriend.

“Hey!” A shout knocks you out of your trance—and startles you enough that it very nearly even knocked you off balance.

“What’re you doin’ on my computer?” he asks in accusation while taking hurried and thundering steps toward you—still wet from his shower, wearing nothing but a white towel around his lower half.

“Uh,” you struggle to find your voice, heart hammering in your chest, head spinning—feeling both caught red-handed and the exact opposite. “Uhm, nothing—I just—”

He rips the laptop off the desk, angry eyes staring at the screen—then quickly going round.

His face pales. You can practically see the goosebumps as they rise in a rush across his skin. 

He swallows thickly, jaw-locked—doesn’t even dare look at you as he asks the question, “Did you read?”

You almost consider saying no but decide against it. This wasn’t something you could just ignore. No, you needed an explanation. Who knows? It might be completely innocent.

“Some of it…” you confess.

He shudders, and then he places the laptop down again, slowly, soundless. He rests his hands on the table and leans his weight on them, head bowed, voice small.

“I just… I… It’s, well…” He scratches the back of his neck, looking for the words.

You’ve never seen him like this before. Katsuki is nervous. But you suppose it’s for good reason.

“It’s not what you think, okay?” he declares, finally looking at you. 

His face is something unfamiliar—riddled with this guilty anxiety you’ve never pictured before—frazzled. It’s completely odd.

“Okay,” you say calmly. You don’t know if you’re angry or not yet. You know you probably should be, but the look on the man’s face is making you feel sorry for him.

“I don’t agree with any of this,” he insists, gesturing to the laptop. 

“Well, yeah, I sure hope so,” you say, although the question still remains, “But why are you on there then?”

“It…” He’s blushing—profusely—bright vermillion-tipped ears and apple-red cheeks. He looks away again. “I don’t know…”

I don’t know is an excuse you’ve never heard come out of his mouth. In fact, excuse or not, it’s a phrase you didn’t think him capable of. But look at him now, using it the same childish way a kid would after being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You better not lie to me, Katsuki Bakugou—or I know someone who’s sleeping on the couch,” you finally find your strict tone. He’s crazy if he thinks this is something you’ll just forget about.

He sighs and then he falls into his desk chair, back hunched, hiding his face, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you close, nuzzling his head against you, mumbling under his breath, “It’s sick, and it makes me sick…”

You wait, giving him the time to figure it out.

“But it…” he continues. You feel his hands tremble just a bit before he confesses, “It makes me feel good.”

You’re not sure you understand, and so you ask for clarification, “What makes you feel good?”

He sighs again, and this time, his voice comes out dark and lusty, leaving no room for confusion, “To know that I have something everybody else wants.”

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist ♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist ♡ ALL masterlists

[shouyuus]

more college roommate hcs?? maybe reader tries to tease vi back for bein shirtless all the time which eventually leads to them getting together??

18+ (no sex, just a$$ and tiddies), mdni, college roommate!vi cinematic universe

you have taken to walking around in your underwear.

and at first, vi wonders if she's losing it a little bit, because she's pretty sure you haven't always been like this. no. if anything, in the past couple of months, you'd been strangely... jumpy. and sure it'd been fun to tease you (walking around with her top off all the time just to get a rise out of you made something warm nudge at the base of her belly) but she doesn't think you're the kind of person to hold a grudge.

(she's been wrong in the past though, and vi thinks that it wouldn't be the worst thing to be wrong about this either.)

at first, it looks like an accident, her waking up to you humming, making breakfast like you do, an earbud tucked into your ear, barefoot in the kitchen, sprinkling salt onto the scrambled eggs. but her eyes skate down the length of your body and her breath dies in her lungs as she realizes you're in nothing but a thin spaghetti strap top and baby blue panties. her eyes catch on the lace trimming against the soft of your skin and she swears her thoughts melt into something akin to tv static.

"uh --"

"oh! hey! breakfast is almost ready -- you don't have morning practice today, right?"

"no... i uhm -- i don't..." she blinks several times before tearing her eyes away from your very bare legs, fighting the urge too shake her head like a dog trying to clear it's ears of water.

"cool! oh, i think there's some orange juice left in the fridge, can you grab it?" you turn back to the pan with a bright smile, humming to yourself.

vi swallows, "yeah sure, princess --" she turns toward the fridge, feeling oddly robotic as she opens it to grab the juice jug. all her hairs startle to attention as you lean over the counter, reaching up into the cupboards for a plate, the motion making your already tiny tanktop ride up, a sliver of skin winking at her from above the waistband of your panties.

she nearly drops the juice jug.

three days later, she comes home to the damp cling of steam in the air. frowning, she drops her duffle and wanders towards the bathroom, where the shower's clearly just been turned off, but the door's wide open. and there you are, standing in the steam-ridden bathroom, in nothing but a bra and panties, toweling dry your hair.

"whoa -- sorry --"

"hm? oh! you're home! nice -- i was gonna ask if you wanted to come out to dinner -- i think mel found a really cute wine bar she wanted to try --"

vi stares; she can't help it. you're in a matching set, and even though it's nothing fancy, it still makes her brain feel oddly liquid as she watches your tits bounce slightly in the semi push-up bra.

"wine... bar?" vi asks, her voice slurring slightly even to her own ears.

your eyebrows hitch, a tiny smile tucked into the corner of your mouth as you cock your head.

"yeah, it's pretty close to that one hotdog joint you like so i figured i'd ask."

you make no move to cover yourself up, and distantly, vi thinks that a few months ago, you would've never showered with the doors open.

"sure i -- i'm down -- uh -- is anyone else coming?" vi asks, somehow forcing eyes away from your cleavage. you reach up to hang the towel by the door, dropping back down on your heels.

vi's eyes snap back to the way your tits just bounced.

(what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?)

"-- probably jayce, but other than that no one... vi?"

"huh?" she jerks back slightly, eyes slingshotting back up too meet your gaze. and this time, she sees it -- a flicker of something so very much like mischief caught in the light there before you're laughing, light and airy.

"nothing just... you seem a little out of it. everything okay?"

you squeeze by her into the hallway and she barely catches the way her own eyes trail the shape of you towards your room, the round of your ass cheeks caught in the simple black panties you're wearing.

"yeah -- just..." she swallows, her mouth suddenly very, very dry.

"a long day?" you offer, twisting around to glance at her over your shoulder half a second before you bend down to rummage for a dress in your chest of drawers.

vi feels a curse bubbling out of her --

"holy fuck --"

"hm?"

"no, nothing! i -- i'm gonna shower before we go."

"sure! i washed your towel for you today, so it's fresh," you say, seemingly unperturbed as you finally disappear into your room, though you still make no move to close the door.

"great, t-thanks princess! really... appreciate it..." vi lets her voice trail off into a soft grumble as she nudges the bathroom door closed with an arm and tugs her sweaty practice clothes off. her foot catches something by the bathtub, and she looks down to find a lacy thong with a bright pink butterfly ribboned in the front.

it takes her four whole seconds before she's reaching down to pick it up and hold it to the light. it's not her's, and it's been months since she's brought a hookup home (not since she's started to imagine you between her legs every time she tries to get off with someone else), so -- by elimination it has to be --

yours.

"sweet fuck."

it only gets worse after that -- she'd come home to find you sat on the couch in a veritable fortress of notes and textbooks, in a crop-top and heart-patterned undies, or walk by your room just in time to catch you tugging off your top, your back to the door (thankfully, vi doesn't know if her heart could take it if she saw you fully with your top off --)

"is our ac broken or something?" she asks one day, frowning at the wall controls. you look up, frowning slightly, a highlighter caught between your fingers, as you sit cross-legged on at the dining table, one of her shirts sloping off your shoulder (but you've tied the bottom up with a rubber band so it sits above your abdomen, cutting off right above where a pair of dark red lacey panties is oh so visible underneath).

"hm? no -- why?" you sound distracted, your eyes falling back to your notes.

vi blinks at you.

"you never wear pants anymore."

you freeze, your fingers poised over a line of miniscule text, the highlighter hovering above the page.

when you look up again, there's a fox-fire gleam to the dark in your irises, and a grin that would've made the god of trickers himself puff with pride slung crescent-moon sharp over the shape of your lips.

"what was it that you told me last time?" you ask, your voice sweet enough to slick the skin, "i just always run... hot?"

vi's expression flatlines. she closes the distance between the pair of you in three quick strides and before you can stutter out her name ("v-vi --?"), she's hauling you out of the dining table chair and onto the sofa, pinning you beneath her, one of your wrists caught beneath hers, her other hand skating down the length of your body to tease at the waistband of your panties.

"you little tease..." she murmurs, but there's no poison in her words, only a bone-deep wanting. it rumbles through her to you, shaking shivers down your spine as you whine beneath her.

"mmm you started it," you say, eyes flickering between hers and the shape of her parted lips; the tiny scar there makes your mouth water.

vi narrows her eyes, giving your wrist a warning squeeze as she leans in just a fraction closer. like this, you can almost taste her breath against your tongue.

"so what... are you gonna finish it then, princess?"

"i-if that's what you w-want --" you stumble over your words as vi presses a knee up between your thighs.

"yeah? you're gonna do what i want?"

you let out a pitched whimper; vi delights in the way your pulse jutters in the triangle of your throat. but you nod, a bit frantic, as vi digs her nose into the junction of your neck and breathes.

she lets out a thick groan, an ever-familiar warmth pooling at the base of her belly as she thinks about sinking her teeth into your skin, about seeing the shape of her teeth inked into your skin for days and days after.

it's nearly enough to drive her off the edge.

"but nothing's gonna happen if you don't ask for it first, pretty girl..." she pulls back, grinning when you immediately try to tug her back, the hand pinned beneath hers curling into a loose fist.

"vi... please --"

desire pulses deep in vi's gut. she wonders if things will ever be the same after tonight (it won't) but she also wonders if she still wants them to be the same after all this (she doesn't).

"yeah? please, what?"

you blink up at her, your lashes almost star-lit in the dim light of the dining room.

"kiss me," you say.

vi's breath comes out shaky, her pulse threading through her like some desperate, fluttering thing. she watches you beneath her, thinks to herself that if this is her undoing then so the fuck be it.

"is that what you want, princess?" she asks, and her voice is honest, the edges frayed with all the uncertainty she's ever felt when you've pressed in a bit too close, when she's lingered over the afterimage of your smile, cast against her eyelids at night.

you nod up at her, and in your eyes, she finds something akin to absolution as she leans down to graze her lips over yours, the touch so soft it's almost a memory.

"fuck, vi --" you groan, jerking her down with your free hand fisted at the throat of her shirt, "kiss me, kiss me, kiss me."

she lets out a debauched moan as she tips herself into the heat of your mouth to kiss you, and kiss you, and kiss you.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Misunderstandings || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Sofia knew what she was doing when mentioning Rafe to you, and she also knew what she was doing when she told you that he never mentioned you, his girlfriend.

Warnings: swearing, fluff at the end, angst

Word count: 873

A/n: kinda really don’t like Sofia 😄

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“Hey, what can I get you?” asks a smiling girl you don’t recognize. She approaches the three of you as you and your close friends settle into the bar stools at the country club, ready to enjoy lunch and catch up. It’s been two weeks since you returned from visiting family overseas, and this gathering feels long overdue.

“Just the usual, please, Sofia,” your friends Kaycee and Jada say with a smile to the brunette server. Her natural beauty was almost unfair. “Coming right up. And for you?” she asks, turning to you. “Oh, uh, the same as them, please,” you respond.

She nods with a soft smile before turning around to start on your drinks. “Is she new?” you inquire, gesturing subtly towards Sofia as your friends glance over at her.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. She started just when you left,” Kaycee responds, her attention shifting back to the menu. You nod slowly in acknowledgment, taking in the information before refocusing your attention on the conversation.

“Is Rafe joining us?” Kaycee inquires, her tone laced with curiosity as she turns her gaze towards you. Just as you open your mouth to respond, Sofia interjects with unexpected enthusiasm, her eyes lighting up. “Rafe’s coming?” Her bubbly expression catches you off guard, and you exchange surprised glances with your friends, wondering why she’s so ecstatic about your boyfriend’s arrival.

There’s a brief moment of silence as you all process Sofia’s reaction, the atmosphere around the table becoming slightly more charged with curiosity. You can’t help but wonder if there’s more to Sofia’s excitement than meets the eye, but before you can dwell on it further, Jada interjects.

“Rafe is—” Before she can finish her sentence, you quickly kick her lightly on the shin to shut her up. “Yeah, he is. You know Rafe?” you smoothly interject, trying to keep your relationship with Rafe a secret for now.

You watch Sofia closely, intrigued by her sudden enthusiasm. To your surprise, she responds with a wide smile, her dimples on full display.

“Yeah. Yeah— he’s pretty cute. Great company too when I’m closing up,” Sofia remarks casually, her tone tinged with a hint of admiration. You raise an eyebrow at her words, sensing a shift in the conversation.

“Really?” you inquire, trying to conceal your surprise. Sofia chuckles softly as she dries a few cups, her movements graceful and effortless. “Yeah, you’d think he has a girlfriend, right? With all that charm he has,” she muses, a small sigh escaping her lips.

You exchange a quick glance with Jada and Kaycee, both of them wearing wide-eyed expressions that mirror your own astonishment.

Ignoring the wide-eyed looks from Jada and Kaycee and the unsettling feeling creeping up from your stomach, you clear your throat, attempting to maintain composure. “I for sure thought that he had a girlfriend,” you say, feigning innocence as you try to mask the rising anger within you.

Sofia shakes her head, her demeanor casual as she continues drying the cups. “Nope. He never mentioned he had one,” she replies, her tone nonchalant.

You roll your tongue against your cheek as you lean back, a wave of frustration nearly bubbling over. Despite your efforts to keep calm, the revelation leaves you feeling betrayed and unsure of what to make of Rafe’s silence about his relationship status.

Your phone suddenly pings, breaking the tension, and you glance down at it, noticing a text from Rafe saying he’s on his way. “That’s really interesting. Thanks for letting me know, Sof,” you say with forced politeness, though your lips purse together and you cross your arms, staring down at your feet, trying to process the mix of emotions swirling inside you.

“Letting you know what?” Sofia innocently chuckles, oblivious to the storm brewing in your mind. Without answering her, you and your friends silently agree to move to another table to have your meals, needing some distance from the uncomfortable conversation.

“What the fuck,” Jada whispers angrily as you walk away from the bar, her frustration palpable. “How does she not know you’re Rafe’s girlfriend? Everyone on this damn island knows it,” Kaycee adds, her voice tinged with disbelief.

As you find a new table, the weight of Sofia’s obliviousness hangs heavy in the air, leaving you to wonder how Rafe could have kept such a significant detail about your relationship hidden from someone you thought was just a casual acquaintance.

You scoff, the frustration and anger boiling over as you aggressively put your purse on the table. “Obviously not her, because Rafe made her believe that he was fucking single. What a fucking dick,” you huff, the bitterness evident in your voice.

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. You thought you could trust Rafe, especially after being with him for years now and never bumping into an issue like this. You would have never thought he’d do something like this, keeping such a significant detail about your relationship hidden and potentially leading someone else on.m, especially with how protective he is of you outside.

Fifteen minutes later, you notice Jada and Kaycee awkwardly looking at something behind you, and you can sense that it’s Rafe approaching. You feel his arms wrap around your shoulders, and he leans down to kiss your cheek, but you keep your gaze fixed elsewhere, unimpressed by his display of affection.

The tension in the air is palpable as you struggle to maintain composure, feeling a mixture of resentment and disappointment toward Rafe for his recent actions.

“Hey,” Rafe says to you, but you remain quiet, refusing to engage with him. “Ladies,” he greets your friends with a forced smile as he takes off his sunglasses.

“Hi,” they both respond awkwardly, exchanging glances. The next few seconds are filled with tense silence as Rafe attempts to decipher your mood.

“Uh, we’re just gonna go to the bathroom,” Jada announces suddenly, her voice strained as she gets up, pulling Kaycee along with her. Rafe lets out a breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as he watches them leave. The lingering tension between you and him hangs heavy in the air, leaving both of you at a loss for words.

“What’s wrong, princess?” Rafe asks, his voice laced with concern as he places his large hand on your thigh. But you quickly remove it, unable to bear his touch.

You can feel the hurt in his expression as he recoils slightly, his hand dropping to his side. The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Despite his attempt to reach out, you remain distant, the sense of betrayal and disappointment still raw within you.

“Do you know Sofia?” you finally speak up, breaking the tense silence. “Who? Oh— yeah. Sof. What about her?” Rafe responds, his confusion evident. You let out a scoff at the nickname, unable to hide your annoyance. “How come she doesn’t know you have a girlfriend?” you demand, your frustration bubbling over.

Rafe’s eyebrows furrow at your word, shrugging, “How would I fuckin’ know—““Oh, I don’t know, Rafe, maybe because you’re the one that made her believe that,” you interject sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his attempt to feign innocence. The weight of your words hangs in the air, the tension between you escalating with each passing moment.

“Don’t give me that fucking attitude,” Rafe snaps angrily, his frustration evident. “You’re so full of shit, Rafe. You purposely left out the fact that you had a girlfriend so you could get into her pants!” you retort, your voice rising ever so slightly with indignation. He hushes you, casting a quick glance around the room before grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the table.

Sofia’s wandering eyes don’t go unnoticed as she looks at the two of you with furrowed eyebrows, her curiosity evident as Rafe leads you outside.

“Let go of me,” you demand, pushing Rafe’s hands away from you as you stand your ground, creating distance between the two of you. The intensity of your emotions swirls within you, a mixture of anger, hurt, and betrayal driving your actions.

“Look, I dunno what the fuck she said to you, but it’s not what it seems.” Your lips part in shock at his words. “Then go ahead, Rafe! Tell me!” you demand, throwing your arms up in exasperation. One of his hands pinches the bridge of his nose while the other rests on his hip, a sign of his growing frustration.

“Okay, okay, what—what’d she tell you?” His tone begins to calm down slightly. “She said you kept her company and never mentioned having a girlfriend—” Rafe cuts in sharply, “—she never asked—” “Shut the fuck up while I’m talking!” you retort, your voice laced with irritation at his interruption.

Your grip tightens on your handbag, your knuckles turning white as Rafe throws his head back in frustration, his eyes closing briefly as if trying to collect his thoughts. “She was new on the island and had no one. I was only talking about the places that she could visit around the island- that’s it- I swear.”

“What?” you snap, your eyes locking with Rafe’s as he stares at you intensely. “My phone was literally right under her nose, Y/N. She would’ve seen my lock screen of you,” he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. His frustration is evident, but so is yours, each of you standing firm in your stance.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I thought I made it quite clear that I had a missus when I literally picked up your call in front of her on Saturday night.” Your eyes soften at his words. You remember the call vividly: the clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversations in the background when he mentioned he was at the country club.

You can still hear his voice, calm and steady, as he reassured you of his whereabouts. The memory tugs at your heart, causing a flicker of doubt about your initial assumptions. You begin to question whether you might have misunderstood the situation, your anger wavering as you process his explanation.

You let out a shaky breath, crossing your arms in an attempt to shield yourself from him. “I’m sorry. It’s just—the way Sofia made it out to be, you never mentioned me,” you quietly admit, your eyes fixed on your Hermès sandals. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken tension, until suddenly you feel his arms enveloping you in a hug.

His embrace is warm and reassuring, melting away some of the lingering doubt and frustration. It’s a silent acknowledgment of your feelings, a wordless apology for any misunderstanding. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to lean into his embrace.

“Babe, ‘s fine, should’ve known she was a jealous little thing,” Rafe murmurs, his lips brushing against the crown of your head as he sighs. With the side of your face pressed against Rafe’s firm chest, your senses are filled with nothing but him. His heartbeat reverberates against your cheek, a steady rhythm that grounds you in the present moment.

NEXT PART

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Fern x Reader PT3(Final)

part 1

part 2

a/n: this is the final part of Fern’s main story, but not the end! You can still make Fern requests and I may rewrite this mini series in the future when I have time.

Fern had been depressed lately. He was a fairy, a dainty little thing, and you were now pregnant. He watched as you waddled around, struggling to do things.

If he were just bigger, he could ensure you never had to lift a finger.

All he could do was use magic to help when he could. Vines sprouted to grab things out of your reach or play with your pussy when you were feeling needy.

Fern wanted you so badly, to properly fuck into you and stretch out your fat cunt like he had before.

At night his wings fluttered softly as he rubbed your pregnant belly, kissing it. When his child was born, would he even be big enough to hold them? It made his heart ache to even think of such a thing. How could he protect his family when he was the size of a small doll?

That’s why he made a tough decision. Fern backed a bag, kissed your forehead and promised he would be back.

There were tales of a witch that lived in the center of the forest. She’d grant a single wish for anyone that came to her… but for a price.

He knocked once on the dirty window, noticing it was cracked and the wooden frame was chipped. Did anyone even live there?

The door creaked open, an old crone beckoning him in. “Hurry, I don’t have all day. Go on and tell me what you want.”

Fern sat on an upside down teacup, watching as the witch bustled about the dusty old cabin looking through books and half empty potion bottles.

“Uh… I wanted to know if you can make me… the size of a human.”

The witch paused, glancing at him. “I can, for a price. What are you willing to give me in exchange?”

~

It had been an entire day since you last saw Fern. He wasn’t the type to be out late, always returning before dark, so it was alarming that he had been gone for more than a few hours.

It was a bit hard walking now. You were six months along, but looked like you were closer to nine. Fern liked to joke that you seemed about ready to burst while laying his tiny head on your belly.

You could tell that his size was bothering him even more lately. As your pregnancy progressed, you needed more help, the kind someone as small as him couldn’t provide.

Despite what others may think, Fern was a proud fairy and hated that he wasn’t able to help his pregnant lover.

Fern wanted to provide and care for you, but that wasn’t really possible when he couldn’t even do most things for himself.

When the second day without any sightings of him filled around, you started to panic. It really wasn’t like him to be gone so long, especially when you were carrying his child.

‘Where could he be?’

Nearly a week passed without him. It was both depressing and terrifying, leaving you nearly bedridden at times. Everything seemed harder with Fern gone.

Even if he couldn’t do much of the heavy lifting, he used his magic to keep you from getting morning sickness, always comforted you when you were hormonal, and made sure all of your vegetables stayed fresh.

Without him, the world felt cold and uninviting. He made all the gray clouds disappear, but now that he was gone the sun had left with him.

You sat in your rocking chair as tears fell down your cheeks. After crying so much, your eyes were puffy and sore.

Even knitting for your unborn child was a chore these days, and you had only finished a single foot when you heard a knock at your door.

For a moment you thought Fern would be behind it… but that was stupid. He was the size of your hand, there’s no way he could knock that loud.

You didn’t rush to greet your guest. Instead you slowly put down the onesie you had been knitting and stood.

Trudging towards the door, you slowly unlocked it and pulled towards yourself…

“Hello, my love.”

You were breathless, eyes wide and mouth agape as you looked up to see a hair of brown curls and eyes as green as fresh oak leaves.

A hand reached out, cupping your cheek and swiping at your tears as you began to cry.

“Fern…”

You sobbed into his chest, warms wrapped tightly around him. He hugged you back, his eyes softening when your baby bump pressed into his abdomen.

“I’m so sorry, love. There was something I had to take care of, something so important I had to leave you for a while.”

As your lip wobbled, Fern began to explain what had happened.

After the witch asked him what he’d give in return, Fern was quick to answer.

“My immortality.”

You covered your mouth, eyes going wide as you swallowed harshly. “You… gave that up to be the same size as me?”

He nodded, smiling fondly as he tilted your chin up. “And I’d do it a thousand times over, love.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips to yours a gentle, yet needy kiss. Although it felt amazing to kiss him after such a stressful week without him, you pulled back after a moment.

“But… why did you stay away for so long?”

Fern went pale, scratching the back of his head with a nervous laugh. “Let’s just say the process to become tall was… long and painful. That old witch enjoyed it too, I’m sure.”

After a moment of simply enjoying each other’s presence, you both walked inside.

After that, Fern waited on you hand and foot. He adored you, that was for sure. Every meal, activity, and even bathroom visit was managed by him.

Fern smiled down at you as he helped you into a bath, his eyes lingering in your heavy and swollen breasts.

When you hissed and winced in pain as your hands brushed against your sensitive nipples, Fern cooed out sympathetically.

“Here, just relax.”

His wings fluttered as his hands groped your fat tits, massaging and squishing them lightly. You let out such a delicious noise that he couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss your neck.

Fern’s cock twitched to life when milk spurted from your perky buds. He always got so hard when he was reminded you were heavily pregnant with his young.

“That’s it, feels good doesn’t it?”

His hand slipped between your legs, a vine replacing the now missing one at your tit while his other continued massaging you.

“Mmph… Fern…”

You had been so needy lately, begging for him to properly fuck you since he had returned. But he was hesitant. Fern didn’t want to potentially harm you or his unborn child…

But with some reassurance from you, the fairy joined you in the tub. He settled you onto his lap, continuing his ministrations.

His cock nudged at your warm cunt, desperate to be enveloped by your velvety walls.

And you wanted him just as much.

Fern groaned against your neck, keeping a hand on your baby bump for leverage as he bounced you up and down on his cock. It felt so good to stretch you out again and have you clench around him.

The vines rubbed at your clit, making you tighten up even more. You came again and again, your body way more sensitive due to your pregnancy.

He loved getting to fill you up with his seed. Watching the hot, white cum leak out of your cunt as he rinsed you off made him want to do it all over again.

But Fern wanted to go easy on you until after your pregnancy.

~

Months passed by, and Fern held onto your hand as you gave birth. Labor hadn’t been easy, but he was by your side the entire time.

“It’s a girl…”

You held onto your baby, eyes half lidded from exhaustion. Fern was an absolute mess, his eyes puffy and red as he sniffled.

“She’s beautiful…”

Fern handled almost everything as you recovered, and as your baby girl grew, her wings started to slowly develop.

“She has wings… is she..?”

“Immortal? Maybe, but I’m not sure… I impregnated you before the witch took my immortality, but she is half human…”

You kissed her little head, letting her nurse as your now husband knelt in front of you.

“I don’t want that for her, Fern. She would outlive all of us. Wouldn’t that be lonely?”

Fern paused to think, slowly reaching out to place a hand over your belly.

“… it wouldn’t be if we… gave her a sibling.”

And so the two of you had several children through the years, slowly repopulating the fairy race. You’d grow old together, and even if your children lived forever, at least they would have each other.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

[hon3y-y]

NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤

cw: noncon filming!

pt 1: here<3 pt3: here<3 pt4: here<3

omfg he would be soooo pissed💀

picture this;

The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 

Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 

He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.

“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”

“Why are you still here?”

Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 

Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 

At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 

You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.

You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).

You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 

He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 

Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.

You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 

Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 

One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?

He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 

Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.

You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.

he’s sooo down bad://

[linoxpudding]

Fashionably Jealous - Han Jisung

summary: you're part of skz styling team, and you've always been assigned to han jisung, but when you get assigned to another member for the upcoming concert week, he can't hide his jealousy- you and his members are waiting till he cracks and finally confess his feelings

pairing: han jisung x reader, skz squad

genre: fluff, humor

fic type: written + text

a/n: written based on this request, bestie!hyunjin is my fav 💜

Masterlist

~°~

[A Week Before The Concert - 9 AM]

Han Jisung’s jaw dropped the moment he saw the stylist assignment list hanging on the wall for next week’s concert. His eyes scanned the names once, twice—three times—just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

You had been his stylist since the day you joined, always fussing over his outfits, fixing his hair, and making sure he looked perfect before every stage. But now? Now your name was next to someone else’s. Changbin’s, of all people.

Jisung felt betrayed. If he had been holding a coffee cup, it would’ve slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor in slow motion. Heck, if this were a drama, the camera would zoom in on his devastated face as dramatic music played in the background.

Without wasting another second, he whipped out his phone and furiously started typing.

[Later That Day - 10:45 AM]

Later in the morning, Hyunjin and Felix walk into the studio and get the drama after entering then they quickly update the rest of the members in the family chat.

[Concert Day ONE - 7 AM]

Han Jisung did, in fact, care. A lot. He sat on one of the dressing room couches, pouting as he watched you adjust Changbin's outfit one last time. It was already bad enough that the members were teasing him, but now you were teasing him too.

He didn't even realise you had finished until you plopped down beside him, nudging his shoulder.

"Hey, grumpy," you said grinning. "Are you going to sulk through the whole concert?"

"I'm not sulking," he huffed, turning his face away dramatically.

"Hey now," you tried once more, but he just got up and got busy getting ready.

You took out your phone seeing Hyunjin's text, you chuckled before replying.

[Concert Day TWO - 4 PM]

It was already the second day. Five more days of this torture of seeing you with Changbin.

He sat in the makeup chair, arms crossed, scowling as you fussed over Changbin's hair instead of his yet again. He didn't even realize his lips were pouting until Minho walked by and flicked his forehead.

“Your face is going to stick like that if you keep sulking,” Minho teased.

“I’m not sulking,” Jisung muttered. “Just…observing.”

“Observing what? The way Y/N fixes Changbin’s collar?”

Jisung scoffed. “No. Who cares about that? Not me.”

Behind him, Hyunjin, Felix, and Seungmin stifled their laughter. They had been watching Jisung stew in jealousy all morning, and it was comedy gold.

You, of course, were well aware of the situation. In fact, you played into it, purposefully fluffing Changbin’s hair a little longer than necessary, making sure to fix his accessories while Jisung watched.

Changbin, catching on, smirked. “You’re really thorough, Y/N. I might request you as my personal stylist from now on.”

That was the last straw.

Jisung stood up so fast his chair nearly tipped over. “NO.”

Everyone turned to him.

“No?” Changbin echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Jisung realized too late what he had done. His face turned red as he scrambled for an explanation. “I mean—uh—you can’t just—request someone like that! Y/N has a schedule! A very important schedule!”

Felix hummed. “And what’s so important about Y/N’s schedule?”

Jisung faltered. “Well… I mean… You know… Stuff.”

Hyunjin leaned against the makeup counter. “Just admit it, Ji. You’re jealous.”

“I—What? Me? Jealous?” Jisung scoffed dramatically, but his voice cracked at the end. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s really not,” Seungmin deadpanned.

You finally decided to put him out of his misery. Stepping closer, you tapped his shoulder lightly. “Han, you know we all know about your crush, right?”

Jisung froze. “Wh-What?”

“We’ve known for months,” Minho added.

“Dude, even staff knows,” Changbin said.

Jisung’s brain short-circuited. “EVERYONE?!”

You chuckled at his sheer panic before grabbing his wrist and pulling him aside, away from the teasing stares of the members.

“Hanji,” you said softly, watching as he nervously fidgeted with the rings on his fingers.

“…Yeah?” His voice was small, his usual confidence completely gone.

You smiled. “Why do you think they knew before you did?”

Jisung groaned, rubbing his face. “I dunno. I thought I was being smooth. Like, super cool about it.”

You laughed. “Babe, you’re about as subtle as a fire alarm.”

He peeked at you through his fingers. “Babe?”

You shrugged. “Figured I might as well, since you like me and all.”

His ears turned impossibly red. “Oh my god, I’m going to pass out.”

You nudged him. “Hey, don’t die yet. You still haven’t properly confessed.”

Jisung took a deep breath, then puffed out his cheeks before exhaling dramatically. “Fine. Here goes. Y/N… I have a stupidly huge crush on you. Have had for a long time. I think about you all the time, I get jealous way too easily, and I may or may not have written a song about how much I like you.”

You grinned. “Wow, that was actually a great confession.”

“Really?” His eyes lit up.

You nodded. “Yeah. And guess what?”

“What?”

“I like you too, Han.”

For a second, Jisung didn’t react. Then, suddenly, he let out a tiny, delighted squeak before throwing his arms around you.

“BEST DAY EVER,” he declared.

From across the room, the members groaned.

“Do we get peace now?” Hyunjin sighed.

“No promises,” you and Jisung said in unison.

[randomnameless]

Plz bring piss to Poor Momo's soul :'(

More seriously,

It's less "trauma olympics" but more than... some complains sound ridiculous, or pretty privileged as in Karen complaining that her mom sucks because she only bought strawberry flavoured poptarts instead of buying vanilla flavored to the point she'd rather have no parents at all, to her BFF who happens to be an orphan who lost her parents and had been living in an orphanage since age 9.

(shit, isn't it basically what happened in the early chapters of a certain manga, to explain how two male characters have a bond while making the female one look like an insensitive jerk?)

FWIW, Hilda's "why should I work I have so many expectations to meet I'm afraid of disappointing people can't I let the slaves do the work I am supposed to do instead?" nonsense isn't related to Crust, but the biggest offenders of the "wah-wah crust system :(" are... "wah-wahs" that can/could be tied to the "traditional" woes of nobility, aka finding a suitable spouse to protect/nurture/strengthen the family and/or being seen as "entry gates" in the world of nobility, or as ways to climb a social ladder.

Remember Sylvain* blaming crusts because they made him the heir of House Gautier and now apparently women only want to sleep with him to become "Lady Gautier"?

UO's Alain had a similar reflection in one of his rapport conversations, wondering if people saved and cared for him because he was him, or because he was the Prince, but Alain doesn't suddenly blame the Unicorn or the Maiden for blessing his family!

Ingrid's woes are less about her crust, and more about her desire to be a knight, apparently clashing with her perceived duties as the heir of House Galatea - sure she's picked heir over her bros because she has a crust (iirc?), but can we say her bros wouldn't, if they had a crust, feel the same? It's the same Ephraim dilemna (swap mercenary by knight though), they want to do something, but have a responsability to their people, and in their endings the accept their responsabilities, because they can't condemn thousands (or even just hundred or dozens) of people due to their (perceived?) selfishness. Ingrid can even have her cake and eat it in some endings, especially the ones in the routes where she can talk to her dad, who supports her all the way.

Mary-Ann's story would be the closest to the Nabs... save that by this game's design, she can never know who was Blutgang and what crime Momo committed to become "cursed", so praying for his soul and/or salvation comes off as really upsetting (especially since Flayn'n'Seteth can be deployed in the same paralogue, and Worst Mom is still chillaxing in Billy's head).

Fodlan tried to scapegoat crusts for, well, classicism, nepotism, sexism (especially the Adrestian brand of sexism, remembers crusts bad bcs getting a bby with a crust was so important that Hanneman's sister died, but he and his "crust potent" sperm can leave Adrestia and still be a bachelor at his age without any issues coming from his family!)

But after realising "crust" is "nabatean blood" and, well, living Nabateans are targets for Supreme ideologies or Agarthans, it sure feels like Sylvain is complaining about poptarts when Flayn is sure that no one would ever want to befriend her because her ears are pointy, or how her Father and Aunt (?) hide their nature and try to protect themselves from people who will pull out the race card to explain why they're "BaD" and "cannot rule over humans", or why their race needs to be erased to "change the shape of the world".

We could have had Flayn pull a Ninian (aka building a relationship with a partner, but then freaking out at the last moment and saying it's impossible because of "reasons" and feeling like dirt for not telling everything/the truth to said partner) with something similar with Seteth (not revealing everything about him, and being distant/pretending to be obtuse because he cannot trust humans)...

But that'd imply giving more spotlight to those green-haired creatures masquerading as humans, and erasing them means HuMaNiTy would finally be free, so we can't develop them much, or develop on their "otherness" because, you know, everyone needs a nice, warm cup of tea.

--

*Sure Sylvain isn't his dad, and I'm glad this part of him was erased in Nopes, but man, imagine him having those kinds of thoughts when his mother is still pretty much around and became Matthia's second wife after the first one died to a Sreng invasion? Also, it's exposed that Matthias loved his first wife pretty much, so where the "wah wah women don't love me they just want the crust" comes from? Is he insulting his mother, or his step-mother ?

The more I think about the nabateans... the less I give a fuck about the crested students problems.