#this has so much angst in it for no reason

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch7. if u wanna get groceries

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 7/x

ᰔ words. 10.3k

a/n. hiii my ihm darlings!! i don't have much to say in this beginning author's note haha but i have some author's notes at the end if you want to read them. but anywho hope you enjoy this chapterrr :)

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Ovulation is a very scary thing.

You can imagine many great women have had their lives greatly affected by this phenomenon. 

This biological release of an egg into the fallopian tubes, simply desiring to be fertilized.

Women who have had their hearts set on their dreams, aspirations, full speed ahead towards the finish line on the other end,

Only to be dragged back by–

You shudder to even mention.

Attraction to a man. 

So horrible.

So insane.

So humiliating.

And yet so–...

So natural.

Unfortunately.

You’re pretty sure Sabrina Carpenter has a song about it.

This is what you think of as you lean over the kitchen island, perched up on your elbows as you eat a peach, staring straight ahead at a certain fake husband who is seated on the couch. 

He’s looking at the TV, watching some SNL skit he didn’t get to finish last weekend, tilting his head side to side with his grey sweatpant clad legs stretched out onto the coffee table in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He’s got a can of Celsius he’s swirling around with a loose grip, his elbow up on the cushion for a more lax resting state (which unfortunately also flexes his bicep very sexily from the positioning), and he doesn’t really seem particularly amused by what he was watching. And for some reason, it was hot.

You tilt your head to the right, watching him like a predator from across the hall, chewing down on a particularly juicy piece of peach that bursts its juice in your mouth, and you curse the fact that all you can think about right now is sex.

Sex.

When was the last time you had sex?

You postulated a little over a month ago when you and Choso were still together.

Granted, you’ve been too busy and overwhelmed and overstimulated with all the recent happenings of late to provide your own self with any sort of relief.

And God, it was showing.

Showing in the way that, no matter what, you can’t seem to shake the idea of wanting to sit in Gojo’s lap and be the second reason he never gets to finish watching that SNL skit. 

Maybe it will help.

Maybe sitting in a man’s lap right now would heal you.

You set the now naked seed of peach down on the counter before straightening yourself up and walking around the kitchen island towards the living room. Gojo’s eyes don’t flicker to you until you’re well in his periphery, and when he looks up at you, he straightens himself up on the couch with curious wide eyes and drags his feet off the coffee table to plant his feet on the rug.

You pull your grandma nightgown up to your knees so that you can sit in his lap, surprise evident on his face as he watches your every movement before you’re comfortably seated on him with your hands on his shoulders.

“Fuck me,” you tell him.

“Wh–” he stutters, “I’m sorry, I could’ve sworn you just told me to fuck you.”

“That’s exactly what I said.” The heels of your hands press into his chest further to the point where it has to hurt. 

“Is this a prank,” he asks as his hands fall to hold your hips on reflex.

You sigh, shifting around on his thighs. “Can you just do it already before I change my mind?”

“Wow. That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright. I’ve changed my mind.”

You push off of his shoulders and stand up on one leg, ready to get up and away from him to find some other way to satisfy your desperate desire for a penis, but he reaches out to grab your wrist.

“Heyyy wait wait wait,” he says, pulling you back into a seat on his lap. “Why do you want to have sex all of a sudden?”

You exhale slowly, twiddling with your thumbs as you look at him. “You said it yourself the other day,” you say, “good way to relieve stress.”

“And you’re not gonna kill me afterwards?”

“Umm no promises?”

“Look, as much as I’d like to take you up on the offer, a part of me thinks you’re making a…rash decision here.”

“Oh my fucking god who cares if I am?? Maybe I just wanna fuck for the sake of fucking?? What’s the big fucking deal??”

“The big deal is that, knowing you, you’re not going to speak to me or look me in the eye for three weeks if I let you go through with something you’re not a hundred percent on.”

Your shoulders sulk a little. You thought this would be an easy yes, where he tears your nightgown off and then ravishes you whole on this couch with every primal caveman instinct that’s encoded in his XY chromosome DNA. This was supposed to be spontaneous and sexy…not a candid conversation.

The thought flashes through your head that maybe he thinks that you’re just trying to use him.

“I want to have sex with you,” you clarify. And then a pause. “I think.” You pause for a moment again. “I’m, like, pretty sure.”

He slides you back to where you’re sitting closer to his knees than to his groin, and then fully leans back onto the couch before tucking his hands behind his head like he was physically putting himself in cuffs to prevent himself from touching you any further. “Tell you what. Let’s circle back in an hour, and if you still want to, then sure.”

“I cannot believe how diplomatic you’re being about this.”

“Well isn’t this whole thing between us a diplomatic agreement? That’s what you said to me when we got fake engaged.”

“That–” you blink at him, not expecting those words to eventually be used against you, “...whatever.”

“Also, what happened to the no sex rule?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He grins and leans forward, both of his elbows settling onto the top of the cushion behind him, and you’re proud of yourself for only staring at his biceps for 0.000034 seconds before meeting his line of sight again. 

“Are those rules just suggestions?” he asks with a stupidly teasing look on his face. 

You purse your lips together, skin feeling warm suddenly as you try to push him away by a palm to his sternum. But then you realized something. A fundamental rule of biology. The woman never chases. 

You smile at him, cheeky in a deceptive way that’s meant to scare him, and it does seem to alarm him when you push him back onto the couch rather forcefully. His hands fall to hold your hips again as he looks at you with round eyes, and you scoot forward on his lap, to where you’re almost sitting right above his groin. 

“Hey–” he says, like a warning. 

Like some awful romantic comedy, you’re drawing the tip of your nail down the front of his chest seductively, leaning forward so he catches the faint scent of the perfume you spritzed onto your skin in the morning, and you can tell it’s working from the way he tips his chin up in interest. You innocently “shift” in his lap to get comfortable, and see his throat bob when he swallows hard from the feeling. The finger that’s been running down the soft linen of his shirt trails up until it runs through the hair at the back of his neck, and he’s pulling you closer to him now by a rough grip on your hips. His breathing picks up, eyes somehow wild yet calm as he looks at you with a set jaw, and you try your best to maintain a sultry expression as you tilt your head down at him while strongly fisting at the longer strands of his hair that fall short at the nape of his neck. He shifts underneath you, sinking further into the couch, his breathing fast enough to where you can see the rise and fall of his chest, his gaze finally dropping to your lips as he parts his own, and he briefly runs his tongue over his bottom lip before–

Before the doorbell rings. 

You both blink at each other.

You don’t even realize how close you two were to making out until you realize you can’t even see the tip of his nose anymore. 

“My, uh,” he starts, voice sounding gruff so he has to clear his throat, “my wood just came.”

“Y–” you glance down at his lap, “your wood just what?!”

He leans away from you, sinking his back into the cushion and pointing over his shoulder with a thumb towards the door. “The cedar planks I ordered to finish my woodworking project. Pretty sure they just got dropped off.”

You blink at him, releasing the grip you still had on the hair at the back of his head, your arms moving to weakly rest on his shoulders instead. “Oh.”

“I’ve gotta go sign the delivery.

“Okay.”

“Sometime today, preferably.”

“Alright.”

“Can…can I head to the door? Is that allowed?”

“...I suppose.”

His fingers that were still resting under your butt in a strong grip push up gently on the flesh to prod you off of him, and you (reluctantly) swing your legs off of his lap then slump down onto the couch indignantly beside him, twiddling with your thumbs as you watch him get up off the cushions with a small grunt from the push of his palms on his knees. And then he heads to the door.

Continuing to assess your cuticles with the tuck of your chin towards your collarbone, you hear Gojo talk to whoever was at the door. Another masculine voice. Sounds younger, probably younger than you. Delivery boy. Gojo makes easy conversation with him, some buddy-buddy diction that’s entirely lost on you, and you hear the other man laugh. And the fact that you feel equally as possessed to want to fuck the delivery man makes you realize you need to put yourself in a cage the next time you feel like this.

You hear the door close along with the metallic click of the lock, and you peak your head up over the top of the couch to look at Gojo, who is leaning a giant cardboard box that looks really heavy against the wall. He then exhales, dusting his hands off and he’s stretching his neck from side to side again.

He glances over his shoulder to find you still looking at him.

“You woodwork?” you ask him.

“Yes.”

“Wait. Is that the noisy thing you do at six in the morning while I’m trying to sleep after a night shift?!?!”

“It’s not that noisy,” he says, leaning back onto the wall and crossing his arms. Then he grins. “Want to see what I’m working on?”

“No.”

“Oh come on.” He jerks his head towards the kitchen leading out to the screen door of the backyard. And then he’s shuffling his feet off into that direction. “Humor me for once.”

You slide off the couch onto the floor, grumbling something to yourself before you stand up onto your feet and shuffle your feet across the hardwood floor to follow him, the hem of your nightgown sliding across the surface.

Gojo pulls the screen door back and you step out into the pleasant afternoon. It’s sunny, with crisp air that settles on your senses, the casted shadows of clouds that slowly pass over the grass reminding you of your childhood, or perhaps of simpler times.

You step into the flip flops you see near the shoe mat, and they are nearly twice the size of your feet. Gojo opts for the dustier pair located behind the grill and then he walks across the grass of his backyard towards the shed tucked away near the side of the house. You’ve always been able to briefly see this shed from one of the windows in your house, but you could never see what went on inside. 

He unclasps the metal lock on the wooden door of the shed and pulls it open with a creak. You peer inside, the smell of wood shavings and some other rather comforting chemicals hitting you almost instantly. You also sneeze. And then sneeze again.

“Bless you,” he says, and when you glance at him, he’s smiling at you before he takes a step inside. You cross your arms and rub your elbows, feeling feeble in your ditsy nightgown as you step into a space that looks far too industrial for you. 

“See?” Gojo says once you’re fully inside the shed with him, drawing your gaze from the dusty ceilings towards the covered structure in the center of the workspace. He pulls the blue tarp back, revealing something square-looking. “It’s a coffee table.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you tilt your head to assess it. “Oh. It’s–...it’s actually quite nice.”

“Yeah.” He knocks on the surface with his knuckles. “It’s pretty sturdy. I’ve been looking to replace what I’ve got in the house for a while now. And–” he straightens himself up again, pushing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “That wood I just got delivered is black walnut. Stunning stuff. I’m going to use it to finish the corners and the cabinets.”

“Ahhh,” you say, expressing interest. I mean, you were intrigued by his many strange hobbies. How can you explain this…you suppose after many years of working, sleeping, eating, and taking care of your mom, it's somewhat pleasantly disorienting to find yourself in the middle of a normal person’s life. Someone who has time to woodwork in his free time. Endearing. It was kind of endearing. 

“I’ve gotta flip it over though,” he says with a sigh, “I fucked up and forgot to build the base first.”

You lean back on one of the cabinets behind you that was level with your hip, and you watch Gojo for a moment as he bends down to assess all angles of the table before he grips the underside of it with his hands, the strength of his grip evident in the strain of the veins running up his arms and disappearing into the short sleeve cotton of his shirt. 

But he glances up at you before moving it. “Can you stand over there?”

“Huh?” You blink at him.

“Don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Oh,” you say, and realize you were standing in quite literally the exact zone of potential danger. You make a mental note to work on your survival instincts. 

You lean off of the cabinet and step off to the side. 

You watch as he begins to lift up on the table, his biceps flexing with the movement, oh and that grunt that leaves his lips once he’s got it at the angle he wants hits you somewhere you wish it didn’t. The sight of him leaning over, letting out a slow exhale as he slowly sets the table down on its side over the cushioning mat had you in a trance. 

Once he’s satisfied with wherever it’s at, he steps away from it and dusts his hands off. “Alright.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Got an hour to work on this.”

You nod at him.

He glances over at you. 

You stare at him.

He stares at you.

“Did–...did you wanna watch?”

“Nope,” you say, shuffling your slippers to the other side of the door. Because you fear that catching the sight of him all sweaty and disheveled from woodworking would get you into serious trouble today. At least you know when to call it quits.

In the hour that Gojo spends doing god knows what sort of manly sorcery in that shed, you get dressed into something that wasn’t a cozy nightgown much to your dismay, and head over to your house next door. You figure you could use this time to clean up the place a little so that you can take pictures for the house on Zillow. 

When you step inside the house, the nauseating smell of medication hits you. It’s a smell that you can only know if you’ve lived with it for years. Something artificial, something that smells–...well, sick. It’s a scent you associate with sickness. It hits you randomly sometimes with the patients that you treat at the hospital. Patients that smell just like your mom does. Something akin to a pill closet. You’ve always cursed the human tendency to assort semantics to certain senses, because then it only takes away all the healing you thought you had gotten through.

You walk down the hall towards your mother’s bedroom. You figured you’d start here first, since it would be the most difficult to clean for you. Her bed is set up neatly, exactly as you left it before she left for hospice three weeks ago. 

Her well-worn rocking chair sits near the window with the old knit blanket she made over twenty years ago draped over it. It faces the window instead of the inside of the house, which was a habit she always had throughout her life. Maybe as an art teacher, she always felt that whatever was outside was more intriguing than within. 

You run a hand by the sturdy wooden dresser covered in dust and scattered medications, along with all of your mother’s draped headscarves. She liked to change them every day, the pattern of each of them aggressively absurd and somewhat hypnotizing, but it fits for her age–that sort of clothing. Your mother used to have beautiful hair. It was something all her friends had always been jealous of. She made the decision to shave it all off rather than watch as it slowly detangled from her hair from chemo, and she claims to have stashed it away somewhere, but you know that she likely donated it instead.

When you make it to her desk, you see paint splattered over it with a rusted easel holding up a blank canvas. But there were swipes of paint across the palette, as though she were trying to find the perfect blend of colors, but failed before she could put brush to canvas. Beside her little art setup, you see a little sticky note with scribblings on it.

Morning tea

Medications- Gabapentin 600 300

Today is Thursday. Oct 16th

800 432 5555 call Dr Johnson 

Turn off the stove

At the very bottom:

- daughter. Nurse. She loves you

You suck a deep breath in, releasing it slowly.

This was an impossible task.

To stuff all of this away into boxes. 

All of this life.

You slowly peel the sticky note off the desk, folding it neatly before placing it into your pocket. Then you start with the canvas, the easel, the paint. Exactly as is, without cleaning anything at all, you stache them away into boxes. You wanted to preserve what you could, even if it was all for show.

By the time you finish cleaning out her desk, you feel winded from emotions. You decide to take a break and try to clean whatever was upstairs instead. Before you leave the room, you see another sticky note written behind the door.

remember ! wear your sweater, it’s cold today

And that’s when you start crying. 

.

.

.

•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•

”Hey,” you say as you walk back into Gojo’s house in the early afternoon, holding up a digital camera that you found in the attic in your hand. “The upstairs of my house is cleaned out now, and I’m almost done with the downstairs part…just waiting on finishing one room. Can we start taking photos to put the listing up online?”

Gojo glances up at you from where he’s stood in the kitchen, tugging at his sleeves, and you just now notice he’s dressed up in a dark navy suit with a white shirt underneath. No tie. “Uhh yeah I can help you with it, I’ve just gotta go run a few errands and then we can do it when I get back?” He ruffles his hair a bit and you see that it’s slightly damp like he just took a shower.

“What errands?”

“Gas, amazon return, Costco. Maybe get a donut if I’m feeling like being a bad boy.”

“Ew. Also, why don’t you get gas at Costco?”

“It’s a little cheaper at Sam’s Club.”

You gasp. “You have a Sam’s Club membership??”

“Yes.”

“You’re a traitor.”

He rolls his eyes as he pushes his shoulders back to get better settled into his suit jacket. “I have a Costco membership too.” 

“Can I come?”

“What? For–...for the errands?”

“Yes.”

He blinks at you from the other side of the island, brow furrowing slightly. “Uh. Sure?”

You know it sounds silly to say, but not having to take care of someone twenty-four-seven has left you with little to no sense of purpose, and an even more intense feeling of loneliness. And as much as Gojo gets on your nerves from time to time, you’ve noticed that you’ve been…craving his presence lately. Or maybe a presence might be more accurate than any one specific person, but you can comfortably admit it to yourself that you’re a somewhat codependent person that enjoys being largely implemented into someone’s life. You’ve even started borderline nesting in his home. You bought two new fluffy throw blankets for his couch, set up a bowl of fruits at the center of the kitchen island, and stocked up on laundry detergent, even though he already had two backup boxes. It was driving you crazy. This feeling of having too much free time and personal space than what you knew what to do with.

And it had been a while since you went to Costco. The holy land for all adults. 

“Can I get this? Ohhhh what about this? Can we get this too? Wait. Wait. Brown sugar boba mochi?!” You hold the packet up into the air as if it were baby Simba in the Lion King, and then you turn to Gojo, clutching the bag to your chest. “Please?”

He exhales, leaning over the handle of the shopping cart and levels his gaze with you. “...no.”

You sulk your shoulders and sigh as you put it back.

He begins to push the cart down the aisle again. “You do realize that you have disposable income too, right?”

You trail after him. “No. I don’t. I’m in six figures of debt.”

He nods. “Fair.” And then he grabs a stray bag of brown sugar boba abandoned on top of the instant rice boxes then places it into the cart. 

You watch as Gojo makes his rounds around Costco, very diligently aligning all the items in his shopping cart and assessing the quality of each thing he crosses off his list before deeming it worthy of purchase. Much different than your usual Costco run, which involves a lot of chaos and sweat. And he feels very husband material like this. Breaking no sweat to put the garden fertilizer in the cart shelf meanwhile you would’ve pulled your back out trying to do the same if you were on your own.

As you two make your way through the store, you get stopped by the post-office man, and then the local judge, and then the elderly couple that runs the church's weekly Bingo nights. All greeting you politely with a quick exchange of words and usually a sweet regard for your mother’s health before passing on by. You keep having to introduce Gojo as your husband, and many of them already know who he is, despite the fact that he’s only lived here for a year, which royally pisses you off to great extents, but he’s a social whore so it makes sense. And then all of them coo sweet things like wow, what a beautiful couple and you’re so lucky to have each other and my oh my he’s very handsome and at this point you would pay someone twenty bucks to say something like well she’s a looker! good for you! to Gojo because you’re sick of him always getting the ego boosts. When asked where you guys went for your honeymoon, you both say “Greece–” “Maldives–” at the same time in typical unrehearsed fashion. One of the town locals even asks when the two of you are going to have a baby, and you almost snort your free sample of San Pellegrino out your nose.

Perhaps the only thing that keeps a little pep in your step is the fact that everyone greets you first before they catch the familiar sight of Gojo too. It’s a small thing to celebrate, but when you’ve lived in the same town your whole life, it becomes somewhat of a prideful and wholesome thing when the town librarian, local mechanic, and farmer’s market lady all stop you in your lovely little Costco stroll. It was all in a day’s work.

“Jeez, you’re hella famous, y/n,” Gojo says as he continues to push the cart down the aisle after you just got done catching up with the volunteer Fire Chief.

You toss your hair over your shoulder at him. “Yes. I am somewhat of a princess in this town.”

“Does that make me your prince?”

“No. You’re my filthy peasant.”

“Alright…I like where this is going…”

“Get your nasty degradation kink away from me, you perv. This is Costco. It’s the holy house of God.”

Once you two make it to the wine section, you stare at bottles of dessert wines and hear Gojo talking on the phone off to the side.

“Hey, Sana. I’m at Costco right now. Do you guys need anything? I already got Juno’s muffins,” he says into his phone as he places two containers of blueberry muffins into the cart. You eye the raspberry cream cheese strudels. “Huh? Cornstarch?....If I tried to look for cornstarch at Costco, I’d be here for three hours.”

“Satoru,” you say to him once he gets off the call, tugging at his sleeve, “could we get those Haagen Daz ice cream bars? They’re so good.”

“No,” he says, pushing the cart down the chip aisle before he grabs a bag of tortilla chips. “We can’t get anything that needs to be frozen or refrigerated. I’ve gotta go prep a house that’s in the area since we’re out this far. I’ve got an evening showing.”

“What?!” you exasperate, “I thought we were just going home after this!”

“I never said that.”

“I can’t believe this. I had been dreaming of grabbing those ice cream bars since you mentioned the word Costco back at home. You could’ve brought your little cooler thing that you keep in the garage.”

“Well, I didn’t know that you wanted to come with me,” he says. “My original grocery list had seven non-perishable items on it.” You both glance at the cart, which was almost entirely full of things that you put in there. Things that nobody ever needs. Like a bladeless desk fan and an electric wine opener.

“Ah,” you say.

He smiles, leaning over the cart handle again and pushing it forward again away from the chilly air of the cooler section. “Retail therapy?”

You pout a little. “I haven’t had the chance in years.” You glance at the cart as he pushes it. “I should probably take it all out now.”

“It’s fine,” he says, “I’ll get you your bladeless fan. And whatever the fuck those other things are.”

You stop walking, blinking blankly at his back as he continues to wordlessly push the cart forward. There’s about a five second delay before you finally start trailing after him.

By the time Gojo finishes loading everything into the trunk of his car as you merely stand by for emotional support, and then he comes back from the long trek of returning the cart, you’re absolutely winded. You’re not sure why, because again, you haven’t really done much all day. But God damn, you forgot how exhausting it is to be a regular functioning member of society that contributes to the economy on the weekends (you didn’t pay for anything).

Gojo wordlessly takes off from the Costco parking lot and just when you think he’s going to get back onto the freeway to get to this house of his that he needs to prep, he jumps into the parking lot of a small shopping area before he parks his car in front of a smaller grocery store. 

You give him a puzzled look.

“Hold on,” he says before clicking his seatbelt off, “gotta go get that cornstarch.”

“Wait—” you say, reaching out to grab him by the sleeve of his suit jacket as the most intense sensation of FOMO you’ve ever felt in your life overtakes all of your senses. “I’ll come with.”

He quirks a brow at you. You’re not surprised at his confusion. After all, you’ve been acting like some drug addict in withdrawal of social proximity to him all day long. But you’re at least glad he doesn’t express any further bewilderment and allows you to follow him inside the store like a duckling.

As Gojo veers off in the direction of likely corn starchiness, in a confident manner that would suggest he’s been to this store many times before, you meander about the aisles at your leisure. You get lost in the bustling colors of produce stacked neatly on top of one another, such that they could rival the great pyramids of Egypt. Not to mention, processed foods lining the wall right next to it. This was what suburban life is all about. Matter of fact, this is what dreams are made of. 

“y/n?”

Oh, fuck. That voice is definitely not what dreams are made of.

The opposite, actually.

Nightmares.

You hear that voice in your nightmares.

You turn on your heel to find none other than your ex boyfriend, he who shall not be named (Choso Kamo), standing right behind you as he holds a grapefruit in his hand, blinking at you dumbly with surprise apparent on his face. 

“Wh—” you briefly stutter before the automatic scowl settles onto your face. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m buying fruit.”

“For what?”

“What do you mean, for what? To eat, obviously.”

“I don’t know. I’m not convinced you wouldn’t try to fuck that grapefruit. Given you have low standards for what you stick your dick inside of.”

“Uh?…I’ve stuck my dick inside of you plenty of t—”

“Shut it!!!” you yell at him, then turn away with a wince on your face. “I didn’t think it through before I said it.”

“As usual?”

“You’re being a jerk. You know who I meant when I said that.”

“Okay. So, you don’t think things through before you say them. And I continue to deflect said things. Let me know when anything’s changed between us, y/n.”

You cross your arms at him menacingly and unwaveringly glare at him as a meek mother pushes her young son by the shoulders away from the two simmering adults having their savory conversation within the produce aisle. You’re about the snark out another comment but then the automatic water sprayers interrupt your flow. And also a scrawny employee drops a giant box of eggplant onto the ground before placing them onto the produce shelf.

“What are you doing on this side of town? You’re never out here,” Choso says as he sets the grapefruit back onto the stack.

“I don’t know. What are you doing here?”

“This is my new go-to grocery store.”

“Why not go to the Trader Joe’s that we always used to go to? It’s way closer to you.”

His shoulders sulk slightly at that.

Oh.

Oh.

So, he’s been driving an extra thirty minutes each weekend to go grocery shopping on the other end of town,

Just so he doesn’t have to run into you anymore.

“Look…y/n,” he starts, “it’s not that I don’t want to see you—”

“Choso—”

“It’s just that you accuse me of fucking inanimate objects everytime I do see you.”

“I literally do not care if you do or don’t want to see me.”

He narrows his eyes at you, his gaze flitting downwards to your crossed arms, something catching his eye.

You glance down at yourself, and you catch the glimmer of diamond underneath bright fluorescent light.

“Oh come on,” Choso grumbles, “don’t tell me you actually wear that thing twenty-four-seven.”

“I’m a married woman, Choso. It’s what married women do.”

He clenches his jaw at that, tense enough to cause a vein strain in his neck, his brows narrowing into contempt, but just before he can say anything else, an arm wraps around your waist and you’re being pulled back into a broad chest.

“She’s pretty, huh?” you hear Gojo say and you blink up at him with your chin tilted towards the ceiling, and you yelp as he possessively pulls you in closer to him as he establishes jarring eye contact with Choso with that same old easy grin on his face. “Thank god I’m the one married to her.”

Choso almost blows a fuse at that. “I know she’s pretty,” he says through gritted teeth, “for six years, I was the one that got to f—”

“Ahh!!! Sale on tomatoes!!!” you interrupt the crass and ridiculously toxic masculine energy in the air as you wiggle out of Gojo’s grip then run over to the pristinely stacked romano tomatoes, picking some of them up and holding them like precious commodities. “Maybe we can make some tomato soup with grilled cheese tonight, honey???” you say with a forced smile towards Gojo as you now hold fifteen tomatoes in your arms, a couple of them falling to the floor with a bounce as they roll away.

“HEY!! LADY!!” the scrawny eggplant stacking employee from earlier yells out at you. Some late teens kid with acne speckled across his face and shaggy brown hair scattered over his forehead, somewhat slick with either gel or grease. “I just set those up!!! YOU SQUASH ‘EM, YOU BUY ‘EM.”

“Sorry,” you squeak out, putting the tomatoes back onto the display somewhat haphazardly before grabbing Gojo’s arm and tugging him towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here, please.”

“Huh? I’ve still gotta pay for the cornstarch though,” Gojo says, hardly budging despite your best efforts to womanhandle him.

“No time for that, we leave now. They don’t have cameras here, anyway. I already checked.” You continue to tug on his arm, your body leaning at an almost forty-five degree angle towards the exit as you struggle to get some drag to his feet, but again, he doesn’t budge.

You don’t know exactly why you so adamantly want to restrict Gojo from interacting with Choso, but maybe a part of it was embarrassment. You didn’t want Gojo to find out what Choso did to you and what an absolute fool he had made out of you. It would hurt your pride.

“Isn’t this guy a cop?” Gojo asks as he points his thumb towards Choso. “And you’re telling me to shoplift in front of him?”

“Can you just be on my fucking side for one second?” you grit at him, yanking on his sleeve so hard you almost tear the cuffs out of the holes, and he finally sighs before relenting into a gait towards your general direction.

As you hug Gojo’s arm tightly to keep his momentum towards you, you walk backwards and send Choso a nasty glare. His eyes are wide, studying you and Gojo together as you get further and further away from him. And for a brief, brief, brief, ever-so-slight fleeting moment of love and familiarity and the sight of his dark hair curling at the nape of his neck and the memory of warmth when he used to hold you in his arms in bed on cold winter mornings, you find that you miss him a little. But only a little. You swear that it’s only a little.

Gojo still makes a pit stop at the register much to your pleading dismay, but as always he has zero regard or interest for your melodramatic outbursts, but at least he shoves the extra change from the purchase into his pocket in a somewhat timely fashion so that you two can head out the door in your artificial haste.

In the car, you quickly click your seatbelt on and then have to watch Gojo as he takes his time clicking his back into place and enter some address into his car. You see the ETA on the GPS, and how it shows that this address is roughly thirty-four minutes away.

Once he gets onto the freeway, your mind begins to wander back to seeing Choso at the grocery store and how the sight of him rattled you. You twiddle with your thumbs in your lap nervously, shift around in your seat, chew at the edge of your nail, and Gojo seems to notice this.

“You know, having lived in this town your whole life, I would think you’d be used to the discomfort of running into people you don’t want to see,” he says.

You sigh. “Yes. In theory. But with Choso, it’s–…it’s different.” You hesitate.  “It’s just that—” you try again before worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, “it’s just that, sometimes I don’t get him.”

Gojo is silent for a few seconds as he stares straight towards the road before he responds with, “What do you mean?”

“Like, he avoids me like the plague, and then begs me to go back to him, and then he pretends like I’m just a nuisance to him, and then when he sees me with you, he acts all—…I don’t know…all—”

“Jealous?”

You sink into your seat. “Something like that.”

“Hm. Yeah, to be honest, I don’t know. But you’re not wrong to find it strange.”

Feeling strangely validated in your feelings, you sit there twiddling with your thumbs and then glance out the window. There’s a silence that lasts maybe ten seconds before you say,

“Thanks for interrupting back there. Although, you don’t have to try to deliberately make him jealous anymore. Even though I know I literally asked you to do that. Which makes me a woman of severe psychiatric ailment. Of which I am slightly embarrassed about at the moment.”

“Nah,” he says as he turns the right onto the freeway entrance. When you look over at him, he has a smile on his face. “I like it. It’s never boring with you.”

Unsure if that’s a compliment or some shade of insult, you say, “and that’s a good thing?”

He shrugs, releasing one hand from the wheel and curling the other in a tight knuckled grip at the top of it as the car drives steady down the freeway. He rests his right elbow on the storage console. “Well, it’s different from what I’m used to.”

What are you used to? You so badly want to ask him.

But a flashback to his childhood bedroom at his parent’s house comes back to you.

Yearbook signatures, trophies, and photos abandoned underneath a bed.

You almost don’t even want to acknowledge that he has lived a life before you.

Was that self centered? Or perhaps childish? Or perhaps all in human nature?

You decide not to respond, instead directing your attention to the world outside the car window. The blades of grass dance across the shoulder of the road, all greenery following suit in the same swift motion. You watch as the land slowly turns from developed to more and more remote, yet still cozy and charming. Fields of green, vineyard arrangements, a wooden sign for a winery, a picturesque red barn house, a small cattle farm, an old town church with a bronze bell, hills of empty acres that are just begging to be touched by some great idea or civilization.

You’re privy to change in texture underneath the wheels as Gojo makes a turn onto gravel road about two miles after getting off the freeway. He drives up a hill, maybe a forty-five degree angle, with the crunch of rocks rubbing against the tread of the tires and you see a more distinct, purposeful arrangement of short decorative trees that line the properties of this narrow gravel road. They were large houses, sitting on slightly slanted hills that were all a part of a bumpy landscape that extends for miles. Some had formal fences, some had chain links, but all had expansive yards with no clear distinction of boundary, where the backyard could be the front yard too if only you had the imagination for it.

One house in particular catches your eye. It’s a pretty two story house with a detached garage or perhaps shed, painted in a dusky auburn with dark wooden paneling and structure. It sat near the top of this hill, the front yard being a steep upwards slope of grassy terrain that stretched for the full length of the property, about a hundred yards. The backyard dips behind the back of the hill, downwards into some territory you cannot set eyes on. But it’s stunning. It was gorgeous. Serene. With views of lush green surrounding its every corner. Intimately located, yet open enough to fresh air in which you almost feel one with the world. And in the early evening light, it looked like heaven.

You let out a slow exhale as you take in the sight that looks like a painting to you. There was something so romantic about a home. For as long as time, humans have enjoyed personifying objects, such as boats or planes or cars or  trains. But what could feel more of a living thing than a home?

You hear Gojo click his seatbelt off beside you and you glance over at him. You click off your own seat belt and open your door, stepping out onto the gravel road.

Gojo comes around the car and approaches you, holding a folder in his hand with papers you can only assume have information on the property listing. You also hear the jingle of keys in his pocket as he pushes his hand into it. 

“Got about,” he glances at his watch, “twenty minutes to prep. Oh, and if my clients ask, I’ll just introduce you as my assistant. And we’ll pretend that we have some sort of inappropriate workplace relationship. Just to intrigue them. It’ll make the house more memorable. Sound like a plan?”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever gets food on your table.”

You watch as he pushes a copper key into the rusted lock that was clipped onto the chains holding the fence together, guarding the property. He yanks it down once he’s unlocked it and then pulls the fence apart, opening the way to head up the house. It borders on a feeling of trespassing, but you trail closely behind Gojo as he makes his way up the grassy hill, reminding yourself that he has the clearance as a realtor.

You glance around the property a bit more. There’s a small pond in the dip of one of the smaller hills, fuzzy with moss and some small fish you can see snapping at the surface of the water. Off to the right of it, there are similarly moss covered stone benches, small and antique. Perfect to sit there and watch the sun set behind the house. And towards the left, a small gondola with arranged stained glass stepping stones. 

“Charming, huh?” Gojo says over his shoulder at you, and you realize he’s caught you staring at everything in awe.

Gojo makes it to the veranda after lengthy strides across the broad concrete steps that lead to the most stunning hardwood door you’ve ever seen in your life. He turns around to glance at you when he realizes you’re still stuck at the bottom of the steps, digging your heels into the ground underneath you.

“It’s–” you start, looking across the landscape while melancholy washes over you, “...I just can’t believe that someone gets to live here someday.”

He pushes his hands inside of his pant pockets, silent for a few moments. “Is everything alright?”

You look up at him, the question threatening to make the rawness in your throat burn even more. “Yes, I just–” you scoff at yourself a little before turning back to face the little pond, now further in the distance, “I just realized that I’ll probably never be able to afford a house in my life, so I’ll never really know what it’s like to have a realtor show me around a home I could potentially one day call my own. It’s something that sounds so surreal to me.”

There’s a silence that lasts for three seconds, and when you look up at him, his gaze is soft.

“Alright,” he says, jerking his head towards the direction of the door with his hands still lax in his pockets, “let’s take you on a tour of this one, then.”

You blink up at him, heart beating a little faster. “O-...Okay.” And you hop up the stairs to meet him at the top. The fragrance of wild roses and lavender brush past your senses as the leaves sway with the breeze. 

The moment you enter inside, you’re greeted by a faint trace of vanilla lingering in the air. The foyer is warm, inviting, with soft oak floors that creak ever so slightly with each step you two take forward into it, proving the life that it’s lived. To your left, there’s a spacious living room that glows with the golden light of the early evening sun that has started to gently make its descent from high up in the sky. Filtering through sheer curtains, touching your skin from afar, you glance down at your arm and the glow of heaven that’s been imprinted on it. 

Gojo walks further into the living room, pulling the curtains back a bit and then opens one of the windows by pushing up on it. A small draft reaches you as you walk towards him. Off to the right in a corner is a fireplace, the mantle adorned with wilting candles and creased old books.

“Is it wood-burning?” you ask Gojo.

He nods his head. “Can easily convert it to gas if that’s something you’d like better.”

There’s a sense of joy in your chest at the way he continues to play along, pretending as if your opinion truly matters–as if, just for now, you were a serious contender to make this place your home. 

“No,” you say, tracing a finger over the dark wood of the mantle, collecting withered dust. “I like it better like this.”

As he leads you into the kitchen, set your eyes on the marble countertops that meet soft sage cabinetry, the window behind the sink overlooking the rolling landscape of the backyard. You stand on your tiptoes to get a better view of what’s down the hill, and you see a small trickling creek that flows down the valley. Your gaze diverts towards the countertops and you see an elegant collection of mismatched china.

Spinning on your heel, you find Gojo leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches you inspect every inch. “When were these appliances last updated?” you ask, running your hand across the oven handle.

“About fourteen years ago.”

“Ah, they’re a little old.”

He smiles at you. “So the tolerance for vintage charm ends with kitchen appliances?”

“Charm is cute,” you say, a little cheekily as you move on without him towards the staircase, “but not when the house burns down because of an oven gas leak.”

He hums from behind you as he follows you, and you can hear the smile on his face through the sound alone. “You’re looking out for the right things.”

The staircase, with its dark wood railing and white balusters, curves gently upwards into the second floor. Just like your own home, the third and first steps creak beneath your feet. You always loved the sound, although you know most people attempt to fix such things in a house. For you, it felt like each step had a story, and some were very vocal about never being forgotten. 

The upstairs hallway is lined with more windows, filling the space with the same golden glow that now dances across the soft, tapering wallpaper that has begun to peel around the edges slightly. Your feet wander on their own with a sense of grace that seems to have taken hold of you. 

The first bedroom you stumble across is small, but still enchanting. The bay window has a small reading nook with cushions piled up on the surface, inviting the image of lazy afternoons spent lost in books as the world beyond the glass panes flutters in the wind. The queen-sized bed in the center of the room is minimally dressed and faces an oak dresser that was leaning slightly away from the wall in a crooked fashion. 

The room across from the first bedroom appears to be a study. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves are bolted to the walls and a vintage writing desk sits by another window where the changing light of day turns the room into a living painting. Your mother crosses your mind. And how much she would’ve loved this window. You could picture her setting up her easel and canvas here, painting away with strokes that could threaten even the beauty of the view outside the window. You think about how much joy that would’ve brought to her. 

In that same trance, you walk down the hall to the end with Gojo following behind you. You push through the set of double doors that lead into the master bedroom. It was spacious, yet intimate, with vaulted ceilings and a four-poster bed draped in airy linen curtains. Sitting across from it is another fireplace surrounded by two picturesque little chairs. One with a square backrest colored a dark burgundy, and the other with an oval backrest colored a pinkish opal. Between the two was a small table that had a stack of a few books. 

The attached en-suite bathroom appears timeless, with a clawfoot tub resting beneath a wide, arched window that offers the view of the rolling hills in their entire glory. The marble vanity has vintage brass fixtures that reflect the soft glow of the chandelier that hangs from the ceiling, one that takes the shape of the roof of the house. 

You hear tapping on the window to your right, and when you glance over there, you see a tree branch bothering the surface due to the wind. 

Your eyes also catch the faint bordering corner of wood beyond the frame of the window.

With wide eyes, you turn to Gojo and point in that general direction. “Is that…?”

“The balcony,” he says, then nods, “it’s connected to this room.”

He leads you out onto the wooden platform, the floorboards warm under your feet from the early evening sun. It stretches out about ten feet and wraps around the entire back end of the house, with easily the most breathtaking vantage point you’ve seen thus far. An entire view of the creek that disappears into the valley, the image of dancing wildflowers on distant rolling hills, the sun that continues to glow in the distance, and a gentle breeze with the faintest hint of salt, as though from a distant ocean. It felt like its own quiet little world. A place where time slows, and you can just be as you are. It was difficult to put into words, but you had never felt more at peace in your entire life.

Gojo leans over the sturdy yet worn railing as he glances down at the grass near the foundation of the house. You come up beside him, loosely curling your hands into a grip around the rusted metal.

You see him turn his face to you in your periphery, but you continue to stay staring ahead.

“So…what do you think? Can you picture yourself living here?” he asks you as a soft brush of breeze passes by. 

“Well–” you start, but then a sobering thought flashes through you, “wait, Satoru, what happened to your clients?”

“Oh, yeah,” he pulls his phone out of his pocket to glance at it, “they texted me about ten minutes ago that they weren’t going to make it.”

“You should’ve told me. We could’ve left.”

“Well, you seemed like you were in some sort of trance while you were looking around. I was scared to interrupt it.”

You breathe in deep and then let out a slow sigh, your shoulders dropping slightly. “Mhm. The house is beautiful. And, yes, I could picture myself living here.” 

More than just that. It was like a dream house. The one that a person would see in fleeting memories right before they pass, as it holds all of their most beloved ones. That ethereal, it was. 

He hums softly. You look over at him and find him blinking slowly. The wind brushes through his hair, ruffling it up gently, to where you could see the blueness in his eyes a little more clearly. That, too, was ethereal. 

“Satoru,” you say.

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He continues to stare at the horizon. “Sure.”

“Where did you live before you moved here?”

“New york city,” he easily tells you.

But the answer surprises you. “R-Really?”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“Really long.”

“Mm. You don’t seem like it.”

“Like what? An asshole from the city?”

“Mhm. Just a regular asshole.”

He laughs. You feel the rumble of it from the way your shoulder was pressed up against his arm. 

“Do you ever miss it?” you ask him. But the question was not one that you had thought to say. Rather, it felt as though it was placed on your tongue by someone else.

You feel his shoulders rise slightly with the deep breath he draws in as he leans over the railing a bit more. “I don’t know. It’s hard to say. I still own a place there in downtown Manhattan,” he says, “but I don’t really plan on moving back there ever. So I was thinking of selling it and getting something out here instead.”

“Oh?” you say, “like what? Where?”

“This,” he says, pointing to the wooden panels you two were standing on, “this house.”

You blink, caught between surprise and something deeper. “This house?” you echo, your voice quiet. 

He nods, his fingers tapping lightly against the railing. “Yeah. Although, I still show it to people if they’re interested. It’s been on the market for over three years though.”

You let your gaze drift over the balcony, the way the light softens against the weathered wood, and suddenly, the house doesn’t feel the same. Like it carries more weight somehow. Like it feels more real, more alive. And maybe that’s what makes a house a home–the intent to belong in it. 

"You see that greenery over there?" he asks, his arm stretching out as he highlights an area in the distance with his hand, "aaaaall the way down there?" Now pointing at the creak.

"Mm," you squint, "uh-huh!"

"Believe it or not, those are all avocado trees."

Your eyes widen and then you look at him. "No way."

He smiles. "Yeahhh. Three-point-four acres of 'em. And they're all a part of this lot."

Your smile matches his equally as nerdy one. "Wow I bet you loooove that.

"I do," he grins, and then gratuitously sights, "all I can eat guacamole 'til the day I die."

You snort.

"Yeah, anyways, that's why no one wants to buy this house," he says, "guess how much it costs to water them per month.”

"Mm, per month?" you look up to the golden sky, "a few thousand?"

"Try a hundred-and-fifty thousand."

"What–...I beg your finest fucking PARDON?!?!"

He laughs. "Yeah that's usually the reaction I get when I end a tour of this house on that note."

“That’s so insane…what’s the point of buying the house, then?”

"Avocados are hard to grow, they can be finicky, but all the land on this lot is extremely fertile," he says, "and if you can import the produce, it actually ends up being pretty lucrative." He points across to the dip in the hill behind the creak. "You could turn that place over there into some kind of ranch, too. Or a wedding venue, and rent it out. I don't know. The property has a lot of investment value. But the house itself is a bit dated. Would need some work."

"Like a fixer-upper on HGTV,” you offer for the conversation.

"Yeahhh. Something like that."

"Mm," you hum.

"Y’know, I was on HGTV once."

"What?! There's no way."

"Yup. House hunters."

"Bullshit. I would've known. I have seen every single episode since I graduated college."

"Oh, well, this was back when they still had Design Star on. I was like twenty-four or something. Fresh new realtor."

"Oh right. I was still in college then. I forgot that you're ancient."

He gives you an irritated side eye.

"So...will you be fixing up this house?" you ask him. His hobby of woodworking starts to make a little bit more sense.

"Maybe. I don't know if I'm too young to be thinking about retirement yet...but that's kind of what I was thinking of turning it into. A dream retirement home."

"You're definitely not young. Don't worry about that."

He gives you another irritated look.

"What happens to your other house, then?" you say. "The one next door."

“Hmm," he muses, "I'll probably stay there another year or so and then rent it out eventually."

"You don't want to settle down there? Raise your kids there?" you blurt out. You immediately wince a little at the forward question, but wasn't that something people thought about when thinking of a house? Do they not imagine filling it with their own hopes and dreams? Do they not picture their spouse sitting on the porch outside, swinging with the wind? Do they not picture their children's laughter down the hallway? 

A shiver runs down your spine. You glance over at Gojo, who continues to stare forward towards the horizon, His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he's deep in thought staring out into the landscape as the golden sun begins to turn purple in the sky, casting a dimming glow on his face.

And you wonder. You briefly wonder what a home must mean to him, after having to witness his parents perish in the flames of the one that housed his childhood. 

"It's a nice house," he finally responds to you, "but a part of me wants to live faaaaar away from everyone and everything someday." A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, like he can already tell how contradictory you find that sentiment to be. Mr Grew Up In New York City wants to live in a quaint little cape-cod-esque agriculture farmland property miles away from major civilization? what was it about the city that changed him so much? “Just be at peace, you know. Plant a million more avocado trees out here in the middle of nowhere, and not have to worry about their devilish spawns dropping all over my cute neighbor's herb garden.”

You flutter your eyelids, the comment catching you off guard, before your entire posture softens. "Satoru...it's ok. I'll move my herb garden."

"Oh, you thought I meant you? I was talking about seventy-four year old Barbara to my right."

You sulk your shoulders and roll your eyes, turning away from him to face forward towards the landscape again.

He laughs. "I'm just teasing."

You glance over at him again, and there's that same distant stare he casts over the greenery in the distance. 

"I can't believe your dream in life is to become a farmer," you say.

"Ehhh. It's honest work." he exhales slowly. The sun is now sitting on the hilltop. "It's just a dream, anyways. Just a dream. I'm still allowed to have those, right?" It was asked with genuine curiosity. 

"Why are you asking me for permission?"

His eyes hood ever so slightly, a dip in his expression you can't quite discern. but it's evident in the way his gaze off across the horizon dampens. "Hm. I don't know."

You shiver a little as the evening wind brushes past, and Gojo catches sight of the movement. you mentally curse yourself, because you know that you've just cut this moment short.

"It's cold," he says, "let's get inside."

You try to think of ways to stay here. Ways to lengthen this moment. Ask him for his jacket and make some teasing comment about how he's not a gentleman. Or lie and say that you're not cold at all, that you run warm when you know all your life you've always had cold hands and feet. Or just tell him that you don't want this moment to end. Tell him you want to see the sun through its sunset. Tell him how you never want to step foot off of this house ever again.

"Okay," you whisper. 

And he leads you back inside, down the stairs, and as you stand out on the veranda, at the grassy hills towards his car, you implant this memory in your head, this feeling of standing on this home and dreaming as if it were yours. Before all it becomes is exactly that, 

Only a dream. 

.

.

.

.

.

[end of ch.7, ‘if u wanna get groceries’]

songs of the chapter:  groceries by mallrat  margaret by lana del rey

a/n. thanks so much for reading! this was a fun chapter to write, especially the house sequence. i think it’s mentioned in the chapter somewhere, but yeah…i just think there’s something so romantic and melancholic about a home :’’) i guess that’s a recurring theme in ihm, with reader’s childhood home holding the memories that her mother has lost of her, and then ihm gojo losing his parents to a destructive house fire, and also him being a realtor, and also reader planning to sell her house, and then the dream house in this chapter. it’s been fun breathing a bit of life into these different settings themselves. ah i also decided i want to include little “song(s) of the chapter” to the end of these! just as something kinda fun to do. i’d say these are songs that inspired me to write certain scenes within the chapter, or songs that i listened to a lot while writing the chapter, or songs i could picture playing during the ending credits if this were a tv show xd. but yeahhh!! also just a way to share music bc i love music lol.  big thank you to my beta readers mirl, leni, and ayelin for helping me out w parts of this chapter n giving me motivation to write it <33 i appreciate you guys sososo much!! i really attribute a lot of my writing motivation towards them, as i’ve been really busy but been able to write these lengthy chapters bc of their support.  i did kinda rush parts of this chapter just because i wanted to get it out on the weekend, so i apologize if there are errors or mistakes of if anything’s a little confusing or sudden. tbh i did want to spend a tiny bit more time on it but, that’s ok. fuck it we ball also! i just wanted to say a quick thank you to all of my readers and those that have stuck around for so long with me or maybe newer readers who have interacted or become invested w my works recently… i know that i am so slow w updates and sometimes inconsistent w it as well, life just gets so crazy for me and it’s a struggle to find proper time to sit down and write, and i wish soooo badly to put out chapters faster, but yea easier said than done haha. but all of my readers who continue to engage with lil ol’ me even despite all of that really means a lot to me, more than i can say :”) i still face self doubts so often w my writing, i’m halfway convinced i’ll never be satisfied w my craft, but the little interactions i have w everyone really make my day and push me forward to write even when it’s hard and i realized i haven’t really said a proper thank u to u guys for that as of late. plus i know jjk manga has ended and also i took a hiatus n also tumblr has lowkey been fuckin me over on the algorithm too lol etc etc i definitely have noticed i’ve lost some readers n engagement along the way, which i understand is natural n just a part of being a long fic author however daunting that may be, but i just really wanted to say a thank you to those who continue to be here irrespective of all of that. i appreciate everyone who sees value in my works enough to read them, follow up w them, interact w them, share them, like them etc. especially w ihm bc sometimes i feel so bad for the slow burn and the yap haha i’m sure some of you may be privy to the fact by now that this story will be very long and also so much more than just the romance. but…i find confidence from you all to follow my vision and i’m really grateful for that.  very likely that the next chapter is in ihm gojo’s pov :0 very exciting and makes me a lil nervous. for some reason i find his pov somewhat intimidating to write for loool. but hopefully i’ll pull it off.

much love!! there will be a delay in getting this chapter up on ao3 and also adding it to the masterlist etc bc i'll be away from keyboard when this posts from my queue, but everything should be updated by the time i'm back home tonight :) see you all in the next one <3 -ellie

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[highvern]

Beggin' On My Knees

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, hint of angst, established relationship, biker! hoshi

warnings: pregnancy, impreg/breeding kink, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, praise kink, body worship, spitting, praise kink

Length: ~8k

Note: inspired by the Please, Please, Please MV. this was originally an idea for taehyung but alas my top freak took over again. something about biker/mechanic hoshi really is beautiful thank u @tomodachiii @haologram and @gyuswhore for keeping me sane

summary: After another run in with the law, you come to terms with the fact your friends might be right about your fiancé.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Even at your age, it’s somehow more embarrassing to buy pregnancy tests than condoms. You wouldn’t know since you’ve never bought condoms. That particular responsibility falls exclusively on your fiance after the few times in college when you snagged handfuls from the bucket inside the campus clinic.

You’ve bought a pregnancy test before. Not for yourself but for friends too embarrassed to walk into the pharmacy and publicly declare how active their sex lives were. Now you understand why they wanted someone else to do it. Why are there twenty different brands? Why do they require some high school employee to unlock the case so you can pick the one you want? Why are they so damn expensive? The anxiety you feel rivals the first time you bought weed sophomore year of college from some sleazy frat boy.

You’ve got the box resting on the bathroom counter, a timer on your phone, and the test just out of sight while you pace back and forth in the small space. The door is shut for no other reason than to isolate away from Soonyoung in the event he gets off work early.

You should call Soonyoung. He’d want to know, fight the urge to say something stupid like “I’ll try harder next time” when the tests come back negative and instead offer to pee on one in solidarity if only to lighten the mood.

You never understood when people say a woman just knows until right now because with each passing second the reality that those tests are going to be positive sink in. Despite the fact you and Soonyoung almost always use a condom and the times without them end with him coming anywhere not inside you. You just know it.

Each second ticks down like a bomb waiting to detonate.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your stomach twists.  Surprisingly, you don’t dread it as much as you would have a year ago. But a million things a baby entails rush over you. Cleaning out the spare room upstairs, doctors appointments, daycare, clothes, school. Do you even know how to actually take care of a kid? One that belongs to you, who you can’t give back to their person when they get fussy or hurt.

Soonyoung was born to be a dad. He never hid how badly he wanted a family of his own, a family with you. He’s good with kids too. You’ve seen him with his nieces and nephews, your friends’ kids. The middle schoolers in your neighborhood come to him with broken bikes and scooters to be fixed, knock on your front door to ask if he can help them get their ball down from some tree. Even if he doesn't know what he’s doing he’d be there by your side.

As the initial shock washes away, the knots in your chest slowly unfurl. You can do this. Even though you planned your life down to the last detail, Soonyoung has a way of sweeping you into his tide. Engagement, marriage, house, babies. In that order. You’ve already got the house before he asked you to marry him and your wedding is only a month away. 

After the worst of the panic settles into restless jitters, you leave the solitude of the bathroom. Soonyoung still isn’t home from work yet but it isn’t unusual. He’s been pulling more hours, shouldering more responsibilities since Mr. Lee, the owner, hinted at a promotion. Glancing at the clock, you guess he’ll walk through the door in two hours which gives you plenty of time to put together something to surprise him.

After a long shower, you burn time by cleaning up non-existent messes; you can’t sit still. The ‘surprise’ ends up being lackluster. Your weekly grocery shopping trip is tomorrow so the fridge is slim pickings for dinner and you make the executive decision to go out once Soonyoung is home. Some fancy restaurant neither of you can afford with tiny dishes designed to leave you hungry and stopping at the diner at the edge of town for a burger. 

While the noise from the TV hums in the background, you scroll through internet searches on what to do when expecting. Doctors appointments, blood tests, advice on budgeting. It’s information overload but you’re giddy even with the stress.. Then you see it. A screenshot from one of your friends. No words, just a photo. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The longer you stare the quicker the realization becomes a reality. Soonyoung, your Soonyoung, the Soonyoung you’ve been waiting to get home, the reason for three positive pregnancy tests still on the bathroom counter, stares back. Or his mugshot does. A proud stain on the town jail’s website for everyone to see.

Storming out of the house, you notice Jeonghan’s car is gone from his own driveway. Hopefully he’s given your fiance an earful at the station already. If not, you’ve got plenty to say.

Whatever giddy happiness possessed you earlier is long gone, rotten disgust taking its place. How stupid do you look waiting for him at home while he’s gone and gotten himself locked up?

That stupid bike.

It isn’t the first time. That was the initial appeal back when you were a doe eyed freshman, finally out from under your parents thumb with more freedom than you knew how to handle. Soonyoung was the stereotypical bad boy with a taste for fast cars, working in a garage to your good girl persona who set the curve in all her classes. A few drinks at a run down dive bar landed you on his bike in some back alley, a hand under your skirt while he whispered the nastiest things you’ve ever heard. Then you returned the favor back at his apartment, riding him with enough vigor the headboard slapping against the wall sent his neighbors into a fit.

Then came the routine of Soonyoung picking you up from your dorms late at night, staying out until sunrise doing who knows what. He showed you off at street races, called you his girl in front of friends, and would take you out to the lake after winning a race and make you feel like a winner too. 

It was fun. 

Until the calls he’d been out street racing again wore down your patience as your friends’ giddy curiosity turned to embarrassment and ‘I told you so’s. It wasn’t enough to break your heart, but it tore your ego to shreds. They called him a loser and you defended him time and time again because you loved him. Because he promised it wouldn’t happen again.

He promised the last time was the last time. The time before that was also the last time and the time before and so on. 

The parking lot of the police station is nearly empty this time of day; a few police cars and a handful of other vehicles. Otherwise, it sits deserted. 

Jeognhan is waiting for you at the front desk, pretending to type away at something on the computer but you know better. You’ve done this song and dance too many times. 

“What the fuck did he do this time?” 

He quirks an eyebrow, sliding a clipboard with the usual paperwork your way as he speaks. “What do you think?” 

You nearly rip through the paper from pressing the pen so hard as you sign. “You’re fucking kidding me.” 

“Ma’am, language,” a young officer warns.

You’ve never seen him before and the stern look on his face pisses you off even more. His eyes widen in what must be fear because he scrambles back to the filing cabinet at the back of the room without speaking. “I didn’t know you had a new bitch, Han.” 

Jeonghan takes his clipboard back before you can whack him with it. “Nope, that's still your fiancé. Chan, go get Soonyoung from the box.” 

“Tell him I’ve got a hammer in the car for his balls,” you call. 

“Please refrain from making threats inside the police station.”

Soonyoung has the sense to look afraid when he rounds the corner. He’s still in his work clothes, oil stained shirt and dirty coveralls, hair matted to his forehead. You can only imagine what he sees. Last time you picked up he’d still been drunk from a bar fight and you made him sleep on the porch with Jeonghan’s engine as an alarm clock. You’d been too tired to make threats, half asleep the entire time. This time, you feel on the verge of crying, throwing up, and exploding into a fiery rage.

You don’t wait for him while Jeonghan hands over the bag of Soonyoung’s belongings. Halfway to the car, he races to catch up without a word and goes as far as rushing ahead to open the driver's door for you. There’s a fraction of a second you contemplate speeding off before he can get into the passenger seat, let him walk home in the dark as punishment for being a dumbass. But you don’t. You want to yell at him for being a dumbass until your throat bleeds.

The car smells like motor oil and sweat with him so close in the passenger seat. You gag at the stench, rolling all the windows down to avoid vomiting. The last thing you want right now is to need him.

Under usual circumstances the silence hanging heavy in the air would be comfortable, familiar and warm with the golden hue of the sunset and the sound of cicadas not far off. The world holds its breath, but you don’t.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to find out you got arrested from someone sending me your mugshot?” you ask at the first red light. Soonyoung tries to answer but you cut him off. “No, you don’t. Because I’d never put you in that position.”

He grumbles out the window. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re better than me.”

“You think I’m pissed because I think I’m better than you? I’m pissed because you act like a fucking loser. I’m pissed because you’re a liar! You promised me you wouldn’t do this dumb shit anymore. YOU PROMISED ME. And I look like an idiot because I’m stupid enough to trust you.”

You wait for an excuse. Some honeyed platitude about how much he loves you and it being a mistake and how it’ll never happen again but Soonyoung offers nothing. 

“What do you want me to say?” he asks.

You scoff. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Clearly!” you shriek, the vein in your neck throbbing. “Do you know how it feels to have my friends send me your mugshot? I’m at home tearing my hair out and you’re street racing some kid for kicks.”

“He wasn’t a kid—” 

“I don’t give a fuck!” The edges of your vision scorch red, teeth gnashing. You’ve never been this angry with him. You’ve never been this angry, period. “Grow up!”

He’s lucky Jeonghan caught him and not one of the other officers hell bent on cleaning up the streets. He’s lucky you didn’t have to front bail money neither of you have, especially now. Instead of spending the weekend in jail, Soonyoung’s punishment is fixing whatever Jeonghan sends his way for the next month free of charge but it’s not enough, not even close.

The kill shot bubbles on the tip of your tongue but that last bit of self control keeps it under lock and key. This isn’t how you thought you’d tell him, nowhere close to the way the evening happened in your head before you saw that picture. You wanted to surprise him. Watch the way the news sunk in slowly then all at once. You remember the test you left on the kitchen counter for him to find when he got home before everything went to shit. The ember of rage flairs back to life.

“You wanna race so bad, go fetch!” You don’t think as you rip the keys to that cursed bike from his hands and chuck them out the window into the grassy median, gone in a flash. It’s only a temporary solution but it feels good. It’s the next best thing to taking a bat to his bike until there’s nothing salvageable.

Soonyoung sputters. “Are you crazy?” 

Maybe. You’re absolutely toeing the line of unhinged. The car skids to a stop, tires burning against the asphalt. Thankfully the road is clear of any traffic.

“Get out,” you demand.

“What?”

“Get out. Get out, get out, get out!” You repeat the words over and over until he does what you tell him to. You feel the suffocating tightness in your chest signaling tears are seconds away. 

“Baby, let's talk about this,” Soonyoung begs. He tries to reach through the window, he knows your weak spots too well. You snatch your hand away before he can take advantage.

“You can have this back!” You launch the diamond band right at his chest before taking off.

You get back home on autopilot. There are red lights and stop signs and other traffic laws you can’t remember if you followed but you’re in the driveway and barreling up the porch with shaky breaths. Guilt doesn’t cross your mind for a second. Soonyoung didn’t feel guilty for racing like a dumbass until he got caught, so why should you feel guilty for letting him deal with the consequences? 

The urge to do something mean, not just mean but hurtful with the intent of seeing Soonyoung sick to his stomach, rears its head. If that’s what you wanted then mission accomplished. He saved for a year to buy that ring and you threw it in his face like it was nothing but cheap plastic. The ire from earlier rushes out of you like a deflating balloon. Your fingers itch for a cigarette but unlike your now ex fiance, you have to cut out all your vices. There’s no relief in pacing back and forth. There won’t be any solace inside the house either. You’re so tired. All the highs and lows of the day have drained you of everything. You don’t want to be mad or sad or anything anymore. You just want to go to bed and sleep off the entire day. 

You want to leave but you don’t. You want to yell some more but Soonyoung will be at least another hour. There’s nothing to anxiously clean while waiting so you water the crispy plants on the porch while you wait.

Jeonghan’s cruiser pulls into his driveway across the street thirty minutes later. Still no sign of Soonyoung, not a missed call or text. You think to worry but he gets out of Jeonghan’s passenger seat and trudges your way.

He looks angry and tired. But your swollen eyes and splotchy face melts the furrow in his brows.

“I’m—”

You silence him with a blast from the water hose. Soonyoung takes his punishment like a man, standing completely still while you douse him from head to toe. 

“I deserve that. Please, just listen to me—” He’s silent with another stream aimed at his chest. You feel some validation seeing him embody the way you feel: pathetic. 

“Will you put the hose down so we can talk about this?”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huff, dropping the hose for him to clean up.

“Then I’ll talk and you listen.”

“No.” You head towards the door with no intention of letting Soonyoung inside. “Go sleep at Jeonghan’s, I don’t wanna be around you right now.”

“He already told me no.”

Jeonghan would take mercy on Soonyoung in this state; soaked to the bone with your engagement ring in his pocket.

You turn to face him. “I want you to get rid of your bike.”

Soonyoung stays at the foot of the stairs leading up the porch. He knows how you feel and he has the sense to look ashamed.

“You want me to sell Tammy?” he asks.

“I want Tammy to fall off a cliff into the abyss but that’s obviously not going to happen,” you seethe, blinking away more frustrated tears.

“I have a lot of good memories with Tammy.”

“What? The first time you got arrested? Or the time you fell off and broke your arm? Oh, I know! When you ended up in a ditch?”

“The time I asked you to be my girlfriend. And the time I won enough money to help put a down payment on the house. When—“

“It’s me or her.”

Does it feel juvenile giving your fiance an ultimatum between you and a godforsaken bike? Absolutely. But you’ve got a kid to think about now and the thought of Soonyoung missing their life because he’s too busy chasing the rush makes you sick.

“It’s you.” Soonyoung says it with finality but you don’t believe him.

“Then prove it.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“Sell it. First thing tomorrow morning.”

He laughs bitterly. “I’m not selling my bike.”

“Then I’ll be sure to tell your kid their dad is a fucking loser.” 

He blinks like the words don’t fully set in but your back is already to him by the time they do. Locked inside the house, you lean back against the door. You don’t want him to hear the crack of breath in your throat breaking into hot, wet tears. 

“What do you mean my kid?” Soonyoung’s panicked voice comes through the door. “YN! Open the door!”

“Go away.”

His whispered curses slip through the door while he scrambles for the spare key hidden in the potted plant by the door. If you really wanted him locked out, you would’ve remembered to move it before he got home. Part of you does want him stuck as far away as possible. You don’t want to face him because you know he’ll kiss your tears away and that’s all you want right now. You want him to hold you, promise you everything will be okay.

The lock of the bedroom door clicks into place right as Soonyoung gets the front door open. You hear him downstairs, looking for where you’re hidden. You can plot his course in your head: straight through the living into the kitchen where one of the positive tests waits to greet him on the counter, then he comes racing up the stairs and outside the door.

He twists the doorknob with no success. “YN.”

“Go away,” you sniffle into the pillow. His pillow. You’re on his side of the bed, in one of his old shirts because even if you wish you hated him.  

A dull thud against the door and a sigh signals his departure. You hear him shuffling back downstairs, but the sound of the front door never comes. The fatigue of the day takes over swiftly. Surrounded by the comforting smell of Soonyoung, you fall asleep until the smell of food wafts up through the vents. Not burnt but if Soonyoung is in the kitchen then it’s only a matter of time.

You creep down the stairs, careful to stay quiet so you can sneak back up without getting caught. Soonyoung’s body blocks whatever he’s organizing on the counter but you tell it’s a bribe from the sight of take out bags piled in the trash.

“What’s that?”

“Dinner. Do you want some?”

He’s got an entire pizza with garlic knots and cinnamon twists laid out like a feast. You watch him pretend to be nonchalant but he’s glued to your every move as you approach the counter and shove an entire garlic knot into your mouth, chewing with enough force to warn you haven’t forgiven him yet even though you're close to it. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Then we won’t talk,” he sighs into the base of your skull, fingers edging beneath your shirt for the comforting warmth of skin on skin. 

“Don’t,” you say, but lean back into the warmth of his body despite yourself.

“I’m sorry.”

Sure he is. You know he means it. Soonyoung is always sorry but it doesn’t stop him from being a dumbass. But he’s your dumbass no matter how many fights you have.

He lets you eat, content to hide his face in your shoulder and his fingers warm against the waistband of your sweatpants. You hate crying and you hate crying in front of him – because of him – even more. The heavy silence of the kitchen and the love of your life clinging onto you like his life depends on it brings a fresh prick of tears. Once you start, you can’t stop. The tears keep coming as Soonyong maneuvers your face into his chest. His new, clean shirt turns into your tissue. You fall into him without hesitation.

“Are you really…” he asks quietly, dropping kiss after kiss against your hair while you wring out like a sponge. 

“Do you think I’d lie to make you feel bad?”

“No. I just—fuck. You’re pregnant.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“How do you feel?”

You blow your nose into his neck. “Like I wanna punch my kid’s dad in the nuts.”

“He probably deserves that.”

“He definitely does.”

“And he deserves to sleep outside.”

“Yep,” you nod.

“But you still love him?”

“Of course I do, you big idiot,” you sigh, leaning back to look at him. Mistake. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” His brow presses to yours, face rounded out, soft cheeks that make you want to scream. Brown eyes shine beneath his lashes. Soonyoung knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t but things would be a lot easier if you did.

Soonyoung takes the silence as an admission, and when you don’t object he falls to his knees, pulls your shirt out of the way and presses his face into your stomach. “We should name it Donatello.”

“No.”

“Leonardo.”

“No,” you giggle despite yourself.

“Raphael.”

“You are not naming our baby after a Ninja Turtle.”

“Mojo Jojo Jojo.”

“No.”

“Thanos.”

“Stop!”

“You’re laughing?” Soonyoung gasps, rushing to his feet to pin your squirmy body between him and the counter’s edge. “I’m trying to have a very serious conversation and you’re laughing?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you love me.”

You nod, hiding back into his chest where it’s safe. “Yeah, I love you.”

The silence marinates between you. 

“I’ll sell the bike, promise.”

“You’re not the best at keeping promises.”

“This time is different.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want our kid to grow up thinking their dad doesn’t worship the ground their mom walks on. Because I know she’s way too good for me and I’m lucky to have her.”

“I’m not too good for you, I hate when you say that.”

“You called me a loser.”

“I said you acted like a loser and I won’t take that back.” 

He looks away. “That’s fair.”

The icy wall of hurt freezes back up but you’re too tired to drag on the fight any longer. “When I found out my reaction wasn’t ’oh he’s being stupid.’ It was ‘how would I tell our kid their dad missed their birthday because he got himself locked up.’ That’s all I could think about. Explaining to our kid over and over why you’re never there.”

The words rest like a wet blanket over his flame of excitement. He doesn’t want to be that kind of dad; the one who misses their child’s life for something as stupid as street racing. Who leaves you to pick up a broken heart time and time again, two broken hearts.

You’re at arms length, Soonyoung examining you like a puzzle he can’t figure out but wants to try anyway. You hate when he looks at you like that. Like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen and he can’t quite believe you’re real. “You’re gonna be a great mom.”

“Shut up.” You hide the blush staining across your cheeks with another slice of pizza. 

“You are.”

“Well,” you swallow. “I need you to be a good dad. And if you can’t then I’m not afraid to do it by myself.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“Can I talk to it?”

“If you want to.” You don’t tell him that the thing growing in your womb curiously of him is the size of a pea and doesn’t have a face, let alone ears. You want to hear what his first words as a dad are.

He rucks your shirt up higher until it’s bunched beneath your breast, stomach on full display for him to bury his face into. 

“Hi. I’m your dad,” he starts timidly. You bite back a smile at his earnestness. “I don’t usually make your mom this angry. Usually, she’s pretty happy with me.” His lips brush your stomach with each word, tickling them into your skin. “I hope you take after her. She’s smart, and she’s pretty. God, she’s so pretty. I remember the first time I saw your mom and I knew I wanted to marry her.”

You snort. “You did not.”

“Yes, I did,” he corrects. “We were at this bar. You’re not allowed to go there. Ever. Maybe when you’re thirty or I’m dead. But I remember seeing her when she walked in and I thought ‘that is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and if she talks to me, I’ll throw up.’ I still feel like that sometimes. Even when she’s mad at me. And then when I got the courage to talk to her, I didn’t throw up because your old man is cool.”

Your heart swells too big for your chest. The night you met him wasn’t the stuff of fairytales. You saw him across the bar, all blonde hair and ruby cheeks as he screamed with his friends. He did throw up the first time you talked to him. After an hour of riding him until it hurt, you melted boneless in his lap and he snuck away to the bathroom to toss the used condom. You faked asleep as he emptied his guts into the toilet bowl before crawling back to bed and begging for cuddles. Pure romance.

“So cool,” you tease.

Soonyoung laces your fingers together, nipping at your fingertips in protest. “Your mom is mean to me but it’s okay because I love her. You’ll love her too. I just hope you’ll love me.”

You fight the urge to cry, only a single tear streaking down your cheek before stopping. “They’ll love you.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

“How?”

“Because I love you and I’m very smart. Remember?”

“I did say that, didn't I?”

You hum in agreement, pulling him up your body to nudge his nose along yours. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” You let him shower you in gentle touches, his hands smoothing up your sides. Soonyoung traps you between his body and the counter, his lips sweeping over your chin, your jaw, your covered chest. That’s when you feel it. “What are you doing?”

“Apologizing.”

“Feels a lot like your penis to me.”

“That’s a part of the apology,” he whispers, the weight of his cocky heavy against your thigh, harder with each controlled grind. “Can’t believe I knocked you up and I never even came inside of you.”

“I can. You talk about kids so much I bet you manifested this.”

“You want it though, right?”

“Yeah.”

You’re lifted onto the countertop, legs spread around his hips. He’s got one hand wedge between your ass and panties to keep you close. “Do you think I’ll be a good dad?”

Not the conversation you thought would happen while you’re tugging his shirt off and working at the tie in his pajamas pants but you humor him.

“I think you’ll be a great dad.” You kiss him gently. His lips, his nose, his cheeks that round in your favorite smile. “If you stop getting arrested. How are you gonna ground Michaelangelo if you keep getting in trouble too?”

“She’s gonna be too smart for that. Just like her mom.”

“Oh, it’s a she now?”

“I’ve got a feeling.” He nips at your throat, a sweet flick of his tongue to soothe the sting. “Back to me coming inside you.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Gonna take it all for me?”

Your chin tips back to provide more skin for Soonyoung to mark up. “Want it.”

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he heaves. You’re trapped between a hand against the crotch of your panties and one pawing at your ass like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

“Take your pants off.”

An amused breath warms your throat. “Someone’s bossy”

“Yeah, and I’m telling you to take your pants off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Shirt gone, sweats pooled around his ankles, Soonyoung stands in nothing but a pair of tenting briefs and the thin chain you gifted him a week after he placed that band on your ring finger.

“Wow, who knew you'd be such a DILF.”

His cheeks tinged pink from the complement. “I’ve been a dad for five minutes and you’re already trying to hit on me.”

“We’re engaged, doofus.”

“Speaking of.” He snatches his pants off the floor, digging through the pockets until a familiar ring appears. “Don’t take this off again.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

He catches your chin between his fingers, pining you in his gaze. “I don’t care how angry you are with me. When I asked you to marry me, I meant forever.”

You can count on one hand the number of times he’s used that tone of voice with you. Soonyoung doesn't get angry often; at least, not with you. The last time he talked to you like this was when you wandered on the wrong side of town late at night, alone and drunk without a way home. You were pissed about a grade and wanted to do something reckless like every other kid at your university got to. Luckily, Soonyoung found you before trouble could. He used the same tone to chastise you for an hour about how stupid you’d been. 

But he isn’t just mad at your antics. He’s scared too. You look at him — really look at him for the first time since this morning when you kissed him goodbye before work. Red eyes, lip bruised, not from kisses but the way he chews it when he’s anxious.

“I’m sorry.” You pull him back, arms wrapped so tightly around his torso he probably can’t breathe and you both like the certainty of it. The tension in his shoulders softens like candle wax but he doesn’t let go. 

There’s still the matter of damp underwear and his boner. You want him, the gnawing aching way you always want him. Between your legs, stroking your sensitive spots to life over and over again until you beg for mercy he’s too eager to deny.

You nose against his cheek, adoring kiss after kiss against his skin until mouths meet. Soonyoung slips his tongue between the seam of your lips. You feel it the way down to your toes. On instinct, your hand trickles down his front, wedged tight between your bodies to paw at the fabric. A few dry jerks is all it takes for him to unravel.

“Wait,” Soonyoung gasps, hips rutting into the tight squeeze.

He keens with another tug, neck flushing a pretty shade of pink. The linoleum bites into your knees before you mouth over his underwear for a taste of what's to come. You suck the head through his underwear before leaning back to tease him with a kiss.

“Bedroom.”

“Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d refuse a kitchen blowjob,” you snicker.

Soonyoung doesn’t laugh. He pulls you back up into a bruising kiss, biting at your lip until you’re sure it’s bruised. His hand gropes down your ass, fingers tight to your entrance from behind. Whatever he wants like this you’ll agree to.

“Want you on my mouth.”

You’d kneel over his face right here on the kitchen floor if he wanted. But knowing your fiance, his sights are glued to whatever fantasies boil beneath that blond hair of his. 

You race up the stairs, Soonyoung hands heavy on your sides. His thumbs press into the bare curve of your hips. Your clothes fall until just your underwear remains. You want to turn around and mount him on the steps but the second floor landing is close enough you don’t get a chance. 

Soonyoung flicks all the bedroom lights on, eager to see every part of you as you crawl up the bed on all fours in nothing but your underwear. A few years ago you wouldn’t dream of sex with a lamp on let alone the overhead light but years of his utter devotion to your body and wanting to watch you get off like it’s his very own miracle gave you confidence. He looks ready to jump out of his own skin at the doorway. You glance over back and arch your spine a little more, ass higher in the air for his viewing. You might just finger yourself like this to see him suffer. You’ve done it before.

You stretch out, naked chest on display. “Are you coming?”

“Fuck yeah, I am.” Unconsciously, he palms his cock and approaches the side of the bed, pulling you into a kiss with a heavy lick of his tongue.

It doesn’t take much to drag him on top of you, dick hot to your thigh, perfect to rut against. There’s too much Soonyoung to think of anything else. His hands pinning you in place, his breath fanning across your chest as he suckles across the slope of your breast, thighs surging between yours in a dry hump you can’t help but beg for more of. His hips stutter when you do.

He follows the same playbook you did earlier; fingers trailing to the wet patch of your wants, mouth following closely. You’re in for a treat when he’s on his knees like this. He wants to tease you the way you did him but Soonyoung isn’t committed to denying you anything, he wants to rake you over hot coals by giving too much. 

Your hands eagerly hook beneath your knees, legs spread wide before him like a feast..

“Taste so good,” he rasps with a soft suck at your clit. “You’re so hot.”

Even with the barrier of your underwear each lick lights you on fire. Soonyoung moans a lewd melody, lost in his own paradise. Your thighs twitch with each gentle prod at your entrance, folded away by his shoulders so he can touch as much as he wants.

The promise from earlier lights up your brain. You twist a tight grip in his hair, pulling hard enough to detach him from your body. Lips wet, eyes blown, Soonyoung tries to dive back down until another twist of your nails makes him wince.

“Call Jeonghan.”

His mouth may be gone but his fingers circle your clit in the way that makes you whine. “What?”

“Call. Him,” you command. 

You snatch your phone from the end table, forcing it into Soonyoung’s grasp. He still doesn’t understand what you’ve asked.

“Sell him the bike right now.”

“Now?” He looks down at your pussy still on display, underwear soaked in spit and arousal.

You nod. Soonyoung knows better than to argue. He’s back in your good graces but only just, the promise of shipping that infernal bike off to someone else keeping him afloat. 

Your body throbs for release, for his mouth to go back to work instead of whispering into the phone when Jeonghan answers. 

“Two grand? Bullshit! There's at least…” he trails off.

You’re not going to stop just because he’s busy. You grab your breasts, taunt nipples visible between your fingers. Clad in a pair of sticky panties and nothing else, you’ve reduced him into a stuttering mess. Any other night he’d already be smothering himself in the wetness. You can see the urge in his gaze as he swallows loudly.

“Four,” Soonyoung counters. His face twists between wanting to argue with the neighbor, brows furrowed, lips in a heavy pout, and watch in awe as you suck on your own fingers before pinching at your chest again.

You’ve got him distracted with a hand between your legs, pushing your underwear out of the way to flash him exactly what he’s earning. Flushed and wet, the smell of sex hangs in the air.

“Thirty-five,” his voice cracks as you spread your legs wider, pulling his hand right where it belongs.

Soonyoung bats your hands away, fingers twisting through your heat. A gentle prod at your entrance like he hasn’t mastered your pussy enough to make you stupid and strung out with a few touches. There’s no way Jeonghan can’t hear every pleased sigh, the wet noise echoing from your pussy, the annoyance in Soonyoung’s voice as they barter back and forth. 

Soonyoung leans over and spits where his fingers disappear, making you jolt with the force as he does it again. You nearly ask him to spit in your mouth just to see his eyes bulge but the opportunity disappears with the sound of Jeonghan’s cackle through the line.

“Fine, three. I’ll give you the keys tomorrow.” He ends the call, forces your hand out of the way, and eagerly makes up for the minutes lost.

Both of your hands find the soft strands of his hair to hold him in place. Your feet plant on the bed beside his wide shoulders, allowing you to hump his face pathetically only to be welcomed with a grunt. The rip of fabric registers right before what was once your underwear is left stretched across the middle of your thigh. 

“S-shit, don’t stop.”

His fingers spread for his tongue to lick between. You punish him for such a dirty move with a harsh pull of his hair that he loves more than anything. Soonyoung does what he does best: groveling for your forgiveness. You’ll give it to him like always. But you both want him to work for it; it’s better when he does. 

He spreads your legs wider, gives a pleased grunt when you hold him in place and grind into his mouth. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant; vision blurry, body on fire.

Soonyoung moans into the sloppy mess of your pussy, sucking your clit between his lips, wedging another finger between the two already ruining you. 

“Oh god—there.”

Your thighs crush his head but he forces them up and open, pinned in place. The tender glow of the end escalates into a scalding burn as it rips through every muscle. You clench so tight around his fingers he can’t move them more than a tight curl. When you cry at the overstimulation he finally rests.

“Did you just—”

Pins and needles ripple through your muscles and all you can do is nod. Once the initial shock fades, there’s a smug twitch of his lips. He catches your foot and pins it before you can kick him.

“Shut up.”

“Have I told you how much I think about you being pregnant?” he asks, watching your every move.

You shake your head. His fingers keep working in gentle strokes, the wet noises quieter than before but loud in your ears. 

“It’s a lot,” he grunts. “Fuck, you’re gonna be so sexy.”

“I’m not already?” you half laugh, half gasp. The spark of arousal already demands more so you rock your hips down despite the sensitivity.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“But I’m not sexy?”

“Don’t pick an argument with me right now, please,” Soonyoung begs. 

“Why?”

“Because I’m thinking about coming in you until you can’t take anymore.”

“Then I’ll be sexy?” you goad.

“You’ve always been sexy.” He punctuates the compliment with a kiss to your left hip bone. “Beautiful.” Another on your right. “Gorgeous.” One on the plush of your thigh. “I love you.”

He folds you in half, knees to chest like you possess the flexibility to stay there, ankles cuffed in his hand, lips hot on the back of your thigh. 

“We should fuck on the bike one more time,” you tease. 

“You want me to defile the mother of my child on a motorcycle?”

You moan at his words. You want him to come wherever he wants, as many times as he can. Until he can’t anymore. To feel nasty and used however he sees fit. You want him on top of you, behind you, bending you over every surface he can until you’re shaking.

“You’re about to defile me right here. W-what’s the difference?”

Soonyoung curls the fingers inside you tight, eyes glued to the way you heave before answering. He fucks into that spot that makes you his puppet and all you want is to ruin him the same way he ruins you with the slightest touch. “You said I should stop doing things that’ll get me arrested.”

You choke on another tease as he sucks on your clit, tongue coaxing pathetic sighs right out of your lungs. He could do this all night. He’d be happy to. Soonyoung grips you tighter as you squirm away. It’s too much. He knows it and that’s why he loves it so much, knowing he can make you cum hard enough to scream.

“Are the cameras still broken at the garage?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, already knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“Then you can defile me at your place of business, over the bike. Just like old times.”

“No condoms.”

“How else are you gonna stuff me full of cum?”

Soonyoung groans, pushing your legs wider as his hips rut into the mattress. “Wanna come inside you.”

“Then get up here and do it.”

You’re soaked between the legs, sensitive and swollen. Soonyoung settles into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing his cock into the wet mess of spit and arousal. Your body acts of instinct, hips tilting until he slips between your walls.

“Oh my god.” He laps at the swell of your breast. “‘S okay?”

“Yeah, they don’t hurt yet.”

The sharp edge of his teeth leaves lines across your skin while he sucks at your chest until your spine breaks in half. His fingers keep firm pressure against your clit. Sloppy but enough to keep you pulled taunt. You’ll come a second time if he keeps it up.

“Oh my god,” you echo. 

Soonyoung likes to fuck hard. Hard enough you feel like all your seams are splitting, just shy of shattering your limit. Now’s no different but there's a new edge of caution. Even with his hips flat, inside you until nothing is left to give, he tangles your fingers together and pins them over head in the pillows.

You push your body against his, needy and pliant. Blind want acting as a guide, your ankles lock around his waist. It feels so much better than all the other times he’s fucked you like this; knowing the risk of him coming inside no longer counts and he can do it as many times as you ask. 

The slap of your skin against his fills the room, grunts and pathetic whines passing between mouths with narrowed vision. Nails biting into his shoulders, you flutter tight, trying to pull Soonyoung deeper even if he’s snug to the hilt. Stretched full beyond belief.

“More,” you beg. Frantic. Needy. All those feelings Soonyoung can incite with the barest of touches and a look.

He rises back on his hands, lighting up with each pathetic whimper of his name. “More what?”

If you had the brain power you’d knock the stupid smirk off his face. “Fuck me.”

“I am,” Soonyoung taunts.

“Breed me.”

“Already h-have.” Soonyoung looks like he wants to laugh but he sinks as much weight as he can into his hips, rhythm clumsy but it’s so good you don’t care. “Fuck, such a good girl. Aren’t you?”

You clench around him. He isn’t the most inspired with dirty talk but he knows your buttons, loves to press on your praise kink when you least expect it. 

“Say it.”

“I-I’m,” you stutter from his fingers finding your raw clit. “I’m your good girl.”

“My pretty little wife,” Soonyoung gasps. “Perfect.”

Every bit of praise adds a drop in the bucket, chest tightening until it explodes without permission; shredding through your veins. Your teeth sink into his shoulder. Hard enough to bruise as you cry, “Soonyoung.”

He doesn’t stop for your orgasm, not for a second. You asked him to breed you and it’s his sole purpose until you’re both satisfied. “G-gonna come.”

“Want it, want you to come in me,” you sob.

Soonyoung grabs for your hair, a gentle tug with enough force your eyes open to find his.

“Want it?” he pants, tilting your hips to fuck deeper. You nod with limited room thanks to his grip. “Then take it.”

The sticky heat you’re accustomed to on your skin stains your insides for the first time. There’s no way you can go back. Not after knowing how right it feels to have him fill you. You shiver beneath his weight, nerves twitching from the idea of him doing it again. Immediately.

“Love you, love you, love you…” Soonyoung chants into your skin, lips slipping over your throat with each breathless gasp.

You roll down into the nasty feel of cum and cock, the minor relief not nearly enough. Not with the idea of sucking the combined taste off him rearing its head. But Soonyoung collapses with a point flex of his thighs to stop your motions.

“Holy fuck,” he shudders. “If you let me do that sooner, we’d have ten kids by now.”

You’re flustered at the idea. “Do you think my vagina is a baby rocket launcher?”

“It’s definitely something.”

“How romantic,” you snort. “Give it a few months and I’ll be so hormonal you won’t touch me with a ten foot pole.”

“Is that what you think?” he hums, face still hidden in your neck like he’s too exhausted to move except to lap at the dip in your throat. A subtle grind reminds you of his cock still wedge in your guts, stiff like he didn’t come hard enough to see stars.

It’s hard to think that after so many years together, this is the biggest love rush you’ve ever experienced. The urge to keep him wrapped in your arms for as long as possible brings tears to your eyes. 

Soonyoung pops over your face after the first sniffle, terrified. “Are you crying?”

“No.” You swipe at the tears. “Shut up.”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, failing to hide his amusement.  

“I’m carrying your child, sorry my hormones are all over the place.” You bat his hand away unsuccessfully, leaning your cheek into the comforting warmth of his palm.  “We’re ready for this?”

“I mean, I was planning to knock you up on our honeymoon anyway,” he shrugs, lips soft on your hairline. “Do you have any more of those tests?”

“Why?”

“I wanna see what’d happen if I pee on one.”

“Nothing.” You push him off, rolling onto hands and knees with your ass in the air, face buried in the pillows. “Now, fuck me again.”

Soonyoung pushes the head of his cock through the mess of cum leaking out before sinking back inside with a grunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

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[nightblackowlbat]

OP has the tone of crack with the premise PRIMED for angst.

Flash POV: oh haha, these lil' tykes keep managing to stop me time running, the little rascals.

Dany and Ellie POV: basically every human we ever knew and loved has been ERASED.

Jazz and Tucker and Sam and everyone else from Amity were wiped from existence. They didn't die, so they had no chance to become ghosts. The only reason the ghosts remain is because they are extra-dimensional beings since the GZ exists between all timelines and dimensions.

Danny and Ellie are the sole survivors of Flash's accidental massacre. The only thing saving his ass is the fact that the time fuckery also caused them to de-age upon re-entering the timeline and they're currently too tiny to do much harm.

Danny is stewing in toxic positivity as an effort to avoid the Dan timeline. Falling inso a depression with a smile on his face, anything to keep from the possibly world-ending rage. He is NotOKtm. His people are gone. His purpose to protect his place is gone. All he has left is Ellie, and he has to stay strong for her.

Meanwhile Ellie wants murder, mostly on Danny's behalf since she wasn't as close to them as he was. She can still explore, and she still has Danny. But she wants him to stop being this happy crust over an empty cavern of misery. Maybe revenge will help?

So they come up with the compromise of stopping Flash from ever erasing anybody ever again.

Flash had been noticing he was being stalked by two kids

Especially if the kids is uno reverse Bruce Wayne bait.

These two kids literally stopped him from running back through the time 13th times in a roll by doing something distracting that completely took his attention alongside this them saving the day before Flash went back to fix it.

Scary accurate, too, after the last time he was tackled and manhandled by a giant glowing green dog when the kids play hot potato and threw a purple dog toy at him saying fetch cujo.

This little brats has some type of vendetta over him that they keeps stopping him from time running.

The 'We will break your kneecaps' on the watchtower in glowing green marker is new to him.. in the middle of a meeting with the Justice league.

You know, for the fastest man in the world, he didn't expect to get stalked and unabled to catch the stalkers even at last speed 13 times in a roll.

Especially with a group of heroes and Batman staring down at Flash for him to explain what had happened.

That two little kids were stalking the fastest man in the world to stop him from running sounds ridiculous, but it was true that even his team investigating can't seem to find anything or nothing on the database about this two children.

As if they didn't exist in the first place...

....

....

....

....

All danny wanted to do was go home after a lesson about being the Infinite Prince and its duty from Clockwork, but yet he couldn't seem to find the home portal, not even Vlad’s was opened which was very odd.

He did catch Ellie zooming around the ghost realm, who was panicking as well about the missing portals, but thankfully, Johnny and Kitty helped them find a natural portal to their home dimension.. Danny is going to have a stern talking with them about that later, but right now, he wanted to go home now.

Only.. there was no home to go to because Amity Park had disappeared.

If it weren't for Clockwork's sticky notes all over a stump trunk that used to be Amity Park's welcome sign that saved Danny from having a total meltdown and psychic break in his core with how small he and ellie became slipping out of the natural portal.

Apparently, some Jackass Time Speeder changed the timeline too many times in which Amity Park, the world greatest ghost town, ceased to existence.

Thankfully, Clockwork left them a little gift that were time watches to help located the dirty bastard that basically ruined Danny's timeline in exchange of punishment for all the timelines clockwork had to fix due to this man.

Danny and Ellie would gladly accept beating up this wannabe timeline ruining bastard, and they'll be creative at it, too.

[zepskies]

A SIMPLE TOUCH

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader

Summary: Annie still has reservations about Ben, and you dating him for that matter…until she sees it.

AN: Surprise drabble! Dipping back into the BMD-verse for a sec. Chronologically, it's set sometime after In the Dark.

Prompt from @lifeonawhim: The reader is physically affectionate. (BMD) Ben sees this, tries to give her that comfort, and it just surprises everyone—how Ben is a source of comfort for her, even though he’s quite literally the strongest man.

Originally posted on Patreon: 1/01/25

Word Count: 600

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

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Annie was loyal to a fault. For that reason, she was still skeptical about Soldier Boy—about Ben, even after Vought Tower collapsed.

You might’ve been living with him now, but that didn’t mean he was safe, or even a good enough man for you.

She watched you closely in concern while the team filed onto the small private plane. It was set to take you all from northern Pennsylvania back down to New York. You weren’t injured, but in a way, you were still walking wounded.

The rogue supe that the Supe Affairs team was called in to catch had destroyed an office building. You, M.M., and Frenchie had saved a handful of people while Ben and the rest of the team handled the supe. But a young woman slipped right through your fingers off a balcony, falling to the pavement from three stories high.

You still remembered the look of shock cross her face. It was frozen there, even after her body lay prone on the cement. Her blue eyes, perfect mirrors of didn’t see that coming.

That was the picture you couldn’t get out of your head.

Now, you were moving slow, your face tired and drawn. Annie was about to ask if you were okay, even though she knew the answer full well.

Ben reached out his hand to you first. He was ahead of you in the aisle, having put his carry-on bag and yours in the overhead bin. You looked at his hand, and then up at him.

“Come ‘ere,” he said, his voice deep and steady. It steadied you, along with his hand around yours. He guided you not into the seat next to him, but onto his lap. By now he’d changed out of his suit, leaving him in jeans and a dark gray sweater you picked out for him, rolled up to his elbows.

Annie sat with Hughie across the aisle, but she had you and Ben in the corner of her eye. She marveled at the way he was holding you, seeming to know you needed the contact. With a sigh, you allowed yourself to lay against his chest while his warm hand ran up and down your back. A simple touch was all you needed to relax in his arms.

“Don’t mind me. Just gonna sleep for about ten years,” you murmured against his chest. You laid a hand over his heart, silently thanking him as your fingers drifted back and forth.

Ben’s lips quirked upwards. “Just try not to drool on me. New shirt, you know.”

Despite yourself, that managed to make you smile, huffing a laugh. You shoved his shoulder in retaliation. “I don’t drool.”

He knew for a fact that you did, but he just smirked. He sunk his fingers into your hair and inhaled the familiar floral scent of your shampoo.

“Get some shut-eye,” he rumbled. “We’ll be home soon.”

His thumb brushed your cheek, encouraging you to rest. So you did. Your eyes closed on you after you let go of a deep, even breath.

In the grand scheme of things, it was a nothing moment. This was a man who had crumbled two skyscrapers and scarred Hughie for life. (He’d never be able to listen to Air Supply again, pretty much for as long as he lived.)

And yet, maybe it meant Annie could stop worrying so much about your judgment where Ben was concerned.

Only much later, she would realize that this was the moment she actually started to trust him.

AN: I want to get back into BMD world for a longer visit, hopefully soon. 💚💚

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Next in line, we have a fun, fluffy, angsty, smutty, 3-part Christmas special, Love Actually:

Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system. At least, you hope you can, before he meets the rest of your dysfunctional family on Christmas Day.

▶️ Next Story: Love Actually

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@sarahgracej @foxyjwls007 @just-levyy @roseblue373

[nemisuki]

The Audacity

Synopsis || You've come to the realization that your boyfriend is way too gorgeous to be outdoors alone, time to show everybody he's taken... in your own secret way.

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, fluff, no smut or angst, physical touch, kinda suggestive if u squint, flirty and jealous reader, flustered bkg, aged up to seniors, dating au, short fluff oneshot, silly moments, he’s just a lil guy, 806 word count

She couldn't believe the spontaneous words exiting his mouth, there's no way her blonde — who possesses such high levels of intelligence — could be this dense!

The girl jolts up from under the covers, sitting on the bed to give him her full attention.

"Wait wait wait, what did you say?"

His brows furrowed with confusion at her sudden interest, as he mindlessly grabs his phone, slipping it into the side pocket of his trousers.

"I said I'm gonna go buy snacks, ain't shit in the dorms-"

"Dressed like that?!"

The question left her lips before he could even finish, a look of disapproval on her face.

His head snaps back at her in response to the verbal objection — internally wondering what the hell is going on — it's not like her to comment on such trivial matters.

"The fuck? What's wrong with it?"

A frown threatens to form at her concerns, he didn't put much thought behind his clothes. Why should he for such a quick trip-

"You're wearing the sluttiest outfit!"

Everything around him seems to freeze for a moment and he looks utterly dumbfounded.

What in the world is she on about?

"Grey sweatpants AND a black tank top? Oh hell no... you look way too good."

She abruptly stands up and marches in his direction, a visible pout on her face as she shamelessly checks him out, her eyes practically glued on his torso.

The tight fabric only enhances the outline of every muscle and crevice of that chiseled work of art. It doesn't help that his overall physique has grown more prominent throughout their years at UA.

It's simply not fair to look that good so casually, it's sickening!

"So you're jealous?"

A smug smile slowly forms on his face as he reaches out — grabbing a hold of her waist to pull her in — leaning down to get a good look at her.

Feeling his ego skyrocket at her silly declarations.

Those red eyes sparkling with amusement, only causes her thoughts to multiply the longer she stares into them.

Then it suddenly clicks.

"Not at all, but I AM a bit territorial."

He suddenly freezes as she lessens the remaining distance between them, y/n confidently pressing a soft kiss to his neck, the feeling leaving a warm sensation on his skin.

Tingles spread to every part of his body.

His grip on her waist slightly tightens at the contact. Her eyes glanced at his neck then met his flustered gaze a few seconds later.

A gentle smile on her face that causes him to break away from her touch — so overwhelmed he fears things might escalate — shying away just in case, not wanting to seem like a lovesick fool.

"You- uh- I'm heading off now idiot!"

He grabs whatever jacket was at the entrance and hastily puts it on, trying to ignore the increase of his rapid heartbeat.

For some reason she begins giggling behind him, he could only assume she knew how flushed his face was.

"Mkayyyy be safe~"

"Yeah yeah I know."

He walks out of the dorm room in no time, making his way out of campus — in the direction of the nearest convenience store — silently thinking to himself about how much of an idiot she is.

And how much of an idiot he is for her.

Soon enough he reaches the store, grabbing all the snacks he saw necessary, not forgetting to put her favorites in the basket simultaneously.

It was only after a few minutes, when he began noticing multiple stares directed at him while walking around the aisles. His brows furrow with annoyance as he approaches the cash register.

He begins handing the old lady his items, trying to think of a reason for all the unwanted attention he's been receiving since he arrived, what's with everyone?

"Ah you're in love young man? How adorable."

His eyes snapped to the woman behind the counter, caught off guard by her sudden question, suspiciously giving her a once-over.

"Hah? What makes you say that?"

She simply chuckles in response and points at his neck, handing him his change and bag of goodies.

He awkwardly walks out of the store, completely clueless as to what the hell just happened. Out of curiosity, he takes out his phone and opens the camera, his eyes widening at the sight.

A vibrant kiss mark planted right on his neck — her tinted lipstick on full display for everyone to see.

His mind goes on overdrive as he remembers her laugh and words. That possessive brat did this on purpose!

He quickly puts on his hood and dials her number, rushing back to the dorms with purpose. She happily answers at the first ring, oblivious to the chaos she brought upon herself.

"Katsuki hey what's up-"

"YOUR SO FUCKING DEAD!"

"Uh-oh..."

*Your call was disconnected*

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| im trying to think of what to write for valentines day and i have ZERO clue, idk what trope or au to do ughhh. obviously it's gonna be bkg related but im fr so lost! anywayssss wrote this randomly at 2 AM, going to knock out now nighttttt! tags ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა

[lila-went-missing]

Hiii, saw you wanted some requests for Sevika and I've had this idea bubbling up for a while. Imagine Vika with a reader that's normally experienced, yk has fucked one or two people before and it's not a sex god, and they're growing insecure about sevika never starting intimacy even after months of dating, so they think it's because they're not as good as the girl's she's been with before. Idk just thought that'd be good

I'm kind of obsessed with this, ngl. This isn't the first smut that I've written but it is the first smut that I've posted on here so feedback is always appreciated. Y'all will never guess... it's not proofread. Again. Enjoy my lovelies! X

Warnings: Smut (obviously), mild angst but nothing too horrible, mentions of body image issues but readers body type isn't specified or described.

Fem reader, of course, with female genitalia.

At first, you didn't think anything of it. She probably just wanted to take things slow with you. You weren't as experienced as her so she probably wanted to take her time.

That made sense for a while.

But now, after eight months together, you haven't had sex once. More importantly, she hasn't initiated it.

Realistically, you know that it's fine. There's plenty of reasons as to why nothing has happened so far. But that voice in the back of your head is doing a fantastic job of convincing you otherwise.

Sevika was kind of a sex symbol before you two got together.

She'd been with countless women, she was a regular at Babbettes. Her name was uttered on the streets like a sacred prayer.

You, on the other hand, have only been with two people: your ex, and a drunken one night stand that was less than satisfactory. So you did have sexual experience, but not nearly as much as her.

Honestly, it's starting to worry you.

Did she not like you? Was she not physically attracted to you? Was there something wrong with your body? Were you not showing enough skin?

Thoughts plagued your mind night and day. You were stuck in constant turmoil. It was impossible to stop your own brain once it got going.

It was taking everything in you to focus on the stove and not burn dinner.

You flinch at the sound of the door closing. Heavy footsteps sound through the house, approaching the kitchen.

Sevikas thick arms wrap around your midsection, her face making home in the side of your neck. For a long time, she doesn't say anything. The only sounds come from the meat sizzling in your pan. Moments like this make it easier to not think about the painful lack of aw sex life between you two.

Her lips purse, pressing small kisses against your skin. She hums against your neck.

"What are you cooking doll?" Her voice is muffled against your flesh but you understand her all the same.

"Spaghetti." You feel her smile.

"My favorite.." She mumbles. You hum a small "Mhm" before focusing back on the seasoned beef and water you're waiting for to boil. Her arms tighten ever so slightly, one hand slipping under your shirt. Her thumb caresses your bare skin.

It should be sweet but it really just drives the nail into the coffin for you.

Your voice comes out before you can stop it.

"Why won't you have sex with me?" You regret it the moment it leaves your mouth.

"I- woah, what? Doll what do you mean?" She honestly sounds baffled.

"Forget I said anything, please. It doesn't matter."

Her hands gently grab your shoulders, turning you around.

"No way. What are you talking about?"

You shake your head. "It's stupid.."

"It's not stupid if it's bothering you." She reassures you.

"It's just, we've been together for eight months, and we practically live together. But we haven't done anything. I know you don't have an issue having sex because half the undercity talks about how good you are and I just don't understand. Is there something wrong with me? Am I not appealing to yo-" Your rant is cut off by her lips. Her hands are holding you like glass, one on your cheek, one curled around your hip.

"There is nothing wrong with you." Her voice comes out as a soft whisper. "I'm sorry I made you feel like there was. I just knew that you don't have as much experience as I do. I didn't want you to feel rushed, or forced."

"Rushed? No, you could never.. I thought you just didn't want me that way." She immediately shakes her head. She kisses you again, more urgently this time.

Her hands grab anywhere they can, pulling you in. They're on your hips, waist, groping your ass.

"I do want you." Then they're picking you up and lifting you on the counter. "Let me show you how much I want you?" All you can do is nod as her lips trail down your neck. Her touch dances over your body, removing your top.

Her mouth follows soon after, sucking dark bruises into the skin on your neck and chest. She takes a nipple in her mouth and swirls her tongue around it. A low whimper leaves your mouth at the new, but not unpleasant, sensation.

Her right hand copies her tongue's motions on the other, pinching and pulling. Your body trembles against the counter with need.

She moves away from your breasts, kissing and licking down your stomach to your navel. Her hands unbutton your pants. She looks up at you as she lowers herself to her knees, silently asking for permission. You nod your head. You don't trust your voice. Your pants are off in seconds and thrown somewhere in the kitchen that you'll worry about later.

Her hand splays across your stomach and gently pushes you to lay against the tile. It's cold against your bare and burning skin, your back arching off of it but she keeps your hips pinned down.

You gasp as her teeth nip at the skin of your thigh. A breathy laugh leaves her.

"Shut up.." You mutter.

"Didn't say anything."

Your eyes roll in fake annoyance but you don't get the chance to reply as the cold air hits your bare cunt. Her thumbs pull your lips apart, admiring the sight before her.

"Fuck doll, you're so wet. All of this for me?" Her voice is husky between your legs and it stirs something delicious in your belly.

"Yes, all for you Sev.." She chuckles. Her teeth take the hem of your panties and drag them down your legs. She kisses your hips and navel, sucking hickies and marking you as hers.

"Please, Vika. Need you.." You whine. You can't bring yourself to care about how desperate you sound. You're sure that you look even more so from her position.

It seems, though, that your prayers have been answered because as soon as the words leave your mouth hers is back on you. This time it's between your legs.

She licks a long stripe up your pussy before stopping to suck your clit into her mouth. A loud moan reverberates from your chest as you lean your head back into the counter. Her tongue kitten licks at the bud before suckling on it like shes trying to nurse herself.

You've had people eat you out before but never this well. You don't think it could get better than this.

She moves down, opting to fuck you with her tongue instead. You definitely understand the appeal now. You've given yourself plenty of orgasms but this is the fastest one has risen before.

She feels it in the way you clench around her tongue and moves back to your clit. Her fingers fill up the now empty space, fucking into you in a gently but rough way only she could manage.

She's eating you like a woman starved and with the lack of sex the two of you have had she may as well be. If you didn't know better you might think this is her last meal.

Gasps and whimpers leave your mouth in a desperate way you can't stop.

"Fuck Sev.. ngh~ m'gonna cum, please.."

She smirks against you once more, speeding up her ministrations.

"Come on my tongue baby, make a mess on me." Her voice is muffled against you cunt, vibrations travel through your clit with her words.

You last maybe thirty seconds longer, hand tangled in her hair, before releasing over her tongue.

She laps you up, milking you for all that you're worth. She's never tasted anything more delicious. Her mouth doesn't let up until your whimpering from the overstimulation and pushing her head away.

She looks you in the eye as she sucks her fingers clean before kissing back up your body. Her lips lock onto yours and you can still taste yourself on her tongue. It makes your head spin in a way you've never felt before.

When you come back to earth, her hand is running through your hair.

"I'm sorry I made you believe that I didn't want to do that." She mumbles. "But now I may need it to be a daily thing." You giggle at her words.

"It's okay. I wouldn't mind honestly." She helps you sit up, a large hand cupping your cheek. "You didn't get to cum.." You whisper as you lean in closer.

"Don't worry about me, I'll get my fill later." The look on her face tells you that this isn't over. "I'm going to change out of these clothes. You just worry about dinner okay?" She slips your panties back on along with your shirt.

You nod, sliding off the counter. You wince at the mess you made but she's already wiping it up. Her lips meet your temple as she mutters a low, "I love you."

"I love you more." She shakes her head, chuckling before walking back to her room. You feel much better now, and you really can't wait for what she meant by "later".

[spacegyaru]

DON'T LOOK AT IT! PT. 3

your phone got lost for some reasons. the following day, the sex tape you made with your boyfriend (rin, isagi, chigiri) was all around the internet. how would they react?

cw: r18+, mdni! mentions of sex tape and implied sex. humiliation. mirror sex on chigiri’s part + angst. somewhat angst and comfort. a little bit toxic from rin’s part!

a/n: this is the last part!! unfortunately, i don’t have that much energy to continue this series further and might start writing for another idea 😭🥺i hope u guys understand!!

masterlist | part 1 (shidou, kaiser, bachira, & sae) | part 2 (reo, nagi, hiyori, otoya, and yukimiya)

rin itoshi:

sorry to tell you guys, but his gf has to be a little bratty and naughty enough to provoke him into making a sex tape. i imagine him doing it out of jealousy, he wanna make you moan his name loud while he takes you all-fours and biting your neck a little bit. all after seeing how isagi was being a little bit too friendly towards you.

and that's exactly what people saw on the video. you remember your phone being pickpocketed while you were out for a shopping. when it got lost, rin scolded you a little bit, and reminding you of the video you guys made. you were the one who insisted that he shouldn’t think too much cuz ya boi was overthinking. but his hunches and gut feeling prevailed. the next few days, your name was all over the news.

rin’s team worked on the damage control. he was hesitant to post a public apology, but he did anyways. unlike his brother who has a ‘idgaf’ attitude, rin cares a lot; he cares a lot about his image and your image too. it’s just plainly embarrassing for him.

when you started isolating yourself due to the humiliation you were going thru, rin tried to comfort you.he was never good with words and may have appeared harsh the way he said it, but you knew what he truly meant. you gave him a hug and a kiss due to his attempt to comfort you.

“babe, i know how much you hated it whenever i say ‘i told you so’ so i’ll try not to make you feel worse. but try not to worry about what other people say. don’t check your phone too much. it doesn't matter what they think. what matters most is what we think of each other .”

yoichi isagi:

fuck, even i am wondering. how did this guy have a sex tape? well, it was your idea, but you didn’t think that your bf, isagi, would be super into it. both of you ended up making two-three sex tapes together. at first, it was embarrassing for him. but then once he’s inside you, he gets all pussy drunk and hell breaks. all that can be heard in the background was the loud bed creaks, along with your moans and his groans. your legs are all over the place, while he held your thighs. the lights were a bit dim, but both of your faces were visible.

the following week, you lost your phone while you were sightseeing all alone. you didn’t think that much of it. but the following day, that very same video you created with isagi, was all over the internet. both of your names were mentioned in twitter and apparently, he was placed in trending.

although isagi was very much embarrassed by what happened, he never blamed you for it. he asked his team to focus on the damage control while he released a public apology, addressing what happened. he explained that you lost your phone while on a trip, and are now taking the proper measures to track whoever did spread the video. isagi couldn’t stop apologizing. everyone knew how harsh he speaks whenever he’s at football matches but this time, he seemed like a dorky apologetic machine.

when isagi realized how humiliated you seemed to be, he immediately prepared a romantic dinner for the both of you, buying some wine and steak for the both of you to enjoy. he also bought a bouquet of flowers for you. then he rented a private ship for the both of you, so you could spend time together and get things off your head for a while.

“love, you don’t have to blamed yourself for what happened, you know? sometimes, there are just things that are out of our control and this happens to be one of them. let’s get this off your mind for now, okay?”

hyoma chigiri:

okay so if you wanna do anything new with this guy, you should initiate it because he’s very much of a vanilla. that’s how you ended up having a sex tape with him. the crazy thing is, he was the one holding the camera. you were riding him in a cowgirl position, your ass was bouncing as you went up and down on him. your room was surrounded by mirrors, so chigiri was recording your reflection. his hands were shaking as he was feeling too much pleasure from your pussy. so far, he was able to record almost everything, but he ended up dropping the phone when he orgasmed.

one day, you lost your phone after a long day at work, but then again, you didn’t think anything of it. you just thought of buying a new one instead. but then few days later, you suddenly see your boyfriend’s name on twitter’s trending. when you clicked the link, that exact mirror sex videos were all over the internet. you just sighed upon seeing those. you never expected them to reach online but here they are.

given the situation, you didn’t even have that much space to comfort yourself because you just saw how down and embarrassed your boyfriend looked. he was able to release a public statement, and his pr team did the damage control. but he was so affected by people’s comments about his masculinity. well, the question about this didn’t really matter to him, but what affected him the most is how people would say how ‘hot’ you are and that you deserve someone more dominating and masculine. he was more affected on what people say about you, rather than what people say about him.

so your night with him ended up being a comfort-fest. both of you lay on the bed with hands holding together while you reassure him that what other people said isn’t true. that you only need him to satisfy you and no one else. you thought your night would be sweet and peaceful. until your small cuddle moment turned into a heated making-out session with chigiri hovering on top of you.

“babe, i love how hot you are whenever you're on top of me. i love how your body bounces and tell me how you make me feel good. but what about let me do the work tonight? i'll let you feel every part of me while i dominate you.”

[jd-loves-fiction]

Sorry, two requests in one go but I NEED TO GET THIS OFF MY SYSTEM OR I FORGET

Same platonic dynamic with Boothill, Welt, Jing Yuan and Blade with reader who turned into a small child all of a sudden (around 2-3 years old, so toddler)

🌑 RAAHHH FEED ME (I couldnt resist the angst sowy :)) Also am I crazy or do they all give girl dad... they all feel like girl dad's to me, expect maybe Jing Yuan 😅

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

Possibly the most experienced in this field actually???

Not to remind y'all of the absolute angst of his backstory, but he adopted a little kid in the past so... he's actually pretty knowledgeable when it comes to kids

Doesnt make this smooth sailing tho

Firstly, he's super confused on how this happened and how to undo it - spends so much time stressing about it that he almost forgets he has to take care of you now until you start screaming

Now that he's looking at you, oh you're so cute it should be illegal

Cuteness aggression to the max with the most self-restraint a man could possibly have (knowing he could easily seriously hurt you)

Once he accepts that his only option is waiting it out, he's focusing on making sure you're comfy

Surprisingly very in tune with your wants and needs

Overall, you'll be well taken care of with him, though the moment you're soundly asleep, memories of the past come back to haunt him, reminding him of all he lost

Though he reasons with himself that the past has passed and all he can do is keep going without letting it drag him down

And you're helping him do just that ❤️

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

Utterly confounded

Mostly just curious

How did this happen? Do you still have your memories? Did your brain also revert back?

But he also cant deny how freaking cute you are🥺

Very gentle, holding you close, whispering softly even if you're screaming - makes you sleepy immediately

If you start screaming incoherently he's gonna have a hard time figuring out what you need but will try his best and remain calm the whole time

Does anything you want him to, literally

Want to play dolls? He's making a cute voice and everything. Want him to read to you? Putting on the softest tone known to man and putting you to sleep before you're through the first page

This also applies to food - whatever you want to eat, he's letting you, since he knows this situation must be pretty stressful and he doesnt want you start screaming at him :(

Once it's over he probably wont mention it again to you in case you think it's embarrassing, but will keep the sweet memory close to his heart - it makes him feel fuzzy to think he could take care of you when you're so vulnerable

Also you're just so damn cute, he cant get over it 😭

✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦

Give him a second he's gonna have to laugh about this for a while

Decent experience with teens and older children because of Yanqing and other students he's trained, but toddlers?

No clue, he's so lost

Genuinely tries to apply lion cub logic

It's the closest experience he's had to raising a kid ok?! He's trying 🥺

Probably ends up getting yelled at by Yanqing because no, human children do not work in any way similarly to lion cubs >:(

After that he's trying a little harder

He's surrounded by people who know more than him on this so he's putting you on his hip and carrying you around while he asks them what to do

Comes back to his office after and puts you down, not realizing that you're crawling over to Mimi

Nearly has a heart attack once he does realize but it's all good, Mimi's a good boy and just naps while you play with his mane

He was honestly ready to use you as an excuse to not do this work and seeing you napping with Mimi just solidifies it for him

The next time Yanqing comes by to make sure you're ok, he finds you all cuddled up on Mimi, so he leaves with a fond sigh

Jing yuan was totally awake btw

✦ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 ✦

Oh sweet god he is not equipped for this AT ALL

Immediatly running to Kafka or Firefly for help (Silver Wolf is suddenly not so mysteriously absent) and they are somehow even less helpful than he is

Grumbling the whole time but does try his best to care for you

Does NOT know why you're screaming pls stop 😭

Has a surprising among of patience - he knows what children are like, so he's not blaming you for anything you do or losing it on you

He's good at keeping himself calm when the situation doesnt require him to lose his shit

Excels at... napping :)

Honest to god cant think of much else to do with you besides putting a sword in your hand, which both Kafka and Firefly scold for even thinking about

Cant really blame him, that's what his parents did and he turned out just fine :) (Note the sarcasm)

Something in his cold (literally) dead heart warms at the sight of you fumbling about and smiling sweetly at him

He never thought himself particularly inviting but he sure doesnt mind that you think so

The whole situation has him pondering his past but most of all, his humanity - what he lost of it and what he still has

[thelov3lybookworm]

Misapprehensions and Confessions

(moodboard creds to @sunshinebingo hehe she made it so pretty 🥹)

Day 1: First kiss

Summary: It has been a regular routine for Gwyn to seek out the spymaster for training. And when he suggests helping her out with getting reaccustomed to society, it doesn't take too much persuasion for Gwyn to agree. But when he doesn't show up one day, Gwyn takes up the liberty to accompany herself into the city.

That one decision is all it takes for it all to fall apart.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 3013

Warnings: none for this chapter, though theres going to be yummy angst in the coming parts heheheh 😋

A/n: SURPRISEE!!! WE'VE BEEN KEEPING IT FROM YOU ALL BUT ME AND POOKIE @sunshinebingo HAVE BEEN WORKING ON A GWYNRIEL FIC TOGETHER FOR @sjmromanceweek 🥹

heres the first part for the mini series for day 1 <3

Read on AO3 here

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Gwyn's pov.

Gwyn adjusted her belt around her waist after making sure her white t-shirt was perfectly tucked into her high-waisted jeans, then turned this way and that in front of her mirror, her high ponytail swishing at her back as she assessed herself from every angle. Deciding she looked good enough for her weekly trip to Velaris, she walked out of her dorm room, closing the door behind her.

By the time she reached the balcony on the highest level of the House of Wind, her hands were slightly shaky and her cheeks a little flushed. And they had nothing to do with the pace at which she had climbed the steps to the man landing of the house. The reason why her heart was beating faster, chest heaving, adrenaline rushing and her lips were parted stood at the railing with his back to her in a black t-shirt and equally black sweatpants, the curls of his dark hair tousled as though freshly washed and barely towelled. The afternoon sun gilded the edges of his perfect silhouette and added a bright outline that complemented beautifully with the dark shadows swirling around him. 

Gwyn sighed wistfully. 

A few wisps of shadows rushed to her at the sound, as excitable and ticklish as they always were. Their nuzzling caused her to giggle and their master to turn around. 

“Hello, Shadowsinger,” Gwyn laughed, not yet able to look at him thanks to the shadows who wouldn’t stop circling her.

“Alright, alright, I missed you too,” she said to the shadows. “You saw me this morning at training. And you, little sir,” she pointed at one in particular, “stayed with me for a good hour after.” 

The one shadow booped her nose and settled on her shoulder and remained there even when the others moved away from her face so she could see their master. When Gwyn was finally able to look Azriel in the face, she found him staring at her with a look that caused her cheeks to burn. 

Gwyn wondered if she would ever be able to control her blushing in his presence. Wondered if the hazel eyes looking at her would ever not make butterflies come to life inside her.

Today marked the third month since their first outing. It had been during one of their private training sessions at night that Azriel had proposed to be her companion while she braved one of her biggest fears; exploring the world outside the library of the House of Wind. Three months of walking beside Azriel as he showed her around Velaris and a few other places of the Night Court, drinking in every information he offered, his advice and praises, leaning on him for security or simply comfort. Three months during which her gratefulness and admiration for him had grown exponentially, turning into something akin to what the protagonists in the novels she read felt for their love interests. 

Being an avid reader and a good observer, Gwyn knew that there were signs that did not lie. There were certain things heard and seen that hinted at those which remained unvoiced. The stolen looks and the smiles, the banter and subtle flirting, the touches that had gone from accidental to very much intentional and welcomed; all of these combined with the meddling and teasing from their friends and family made Gwyn hope that, perhaps, if she dared be courageous in ways she hadn’t been yet, she could live a life where her daydreams would be reality.

Unfortunately, no amount of reading or even praying had helped her take the leap from hoping to actually confessing her feelings to Azriel.  What if she wasn’t enough? Not pretty enough for this stunning male, not strong enough to be worthy of him, her mere 29 years no match to his 500 of existence and experience? 

And yet, the way those hazel eyes were looking at her right now, appreciating and silently approving of her chased away any doubts, his smile making them float away like the shadows that brushed her cheek as they made their way back to him. He extended a hand towards her.

“You ready, Berdara?”

Her name being voiced by his deep voice caused a fluttering in her heart. And a tingle in other places of her that she blushed even more just thinking about. It got worse when she took his hand and felt a shiver run up her arm at the feel of his skin.

“To spend time with you? Always.” She admitted with a smile.

Azriel brought her hands to his lips for a kiss on her knuckles worthy of a romance novel. Gwyn’s heart beat wildly in her chest as she followed him closer to the railing. As she had done many times before, she wrapped her arms around Azriel’s neck and allowed him to effortlessly lift her up bridal style.

Gwyn was enveloped in his arms and his scent, his shadows acting as another blanket that wrapped around them both. It almost felt like they were pulling Azriel and her somehow closer. 

“You still won't tell me where we're going today?” She asked. 

His wings began spreading behind his back, the sunlight revealing the blue and purple veining on them.

“You’ll see when we get there soon.” 

“Can you at least give me a hint?” She insisted. 

Azriel rolled his eyes. “As much as I hate to admit it for fear that your head grows bigger, you’re too smart for me to give you a hint without risking that you find out before we get there.”

Gwyn frowned at him, although she glowed inside at the compliment. 

“If it sucks, I’m putting a stop to our weekly outings.” She warned him with a lie. 

Azriel looked down at her with a tilt of his head. The smirk that tugged at his lips made him look downright sinful.

“You won’t.” He said. 

“How can you be so sure?” She raised her eyebrows. 

“Because,” he leaned down, his face now so close that the tips of their noses almost brushed, “You won’t dare deprive us both of our favourite day of the week.”

He shot up into the sky without warning. Gwyn squealed and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

She wanted to retort and challenge his last claim. But he was right. And he knew that he was right. It was something they had told each other before, word for word even. A confession that had come out during a picnic on a cliff overlooking the sea, in between a conversation about their respective pasts and another that had been filled with laughter. 

There had been another confession on the edge of her lips back then, threatening to spill out without her permission as he had cradled her cheeks to swipe away her tears. But fear had made her swallow it, just like it did every time they met up.

Gwyn had promised to herself that she would be brave and strong. But confessing one's feelings, she had realised, was much harder than luring a beast or cutting down any physical enemies. She was a Valkyrie, always ready to fight and protect. She had been trained to use every weapon that had been put in her hands and had learned how to turn seemingly harmless objects into deadly ones. Yet Azriel was a ribbon that she had yet to find out how cut.

One day, she vowed as she gazed at him while they flew above the clouds. Soon, she decided when he pulled her slightly higher and brushed his lips to her forehead. 

The flight to their destination was shorter than Gwyn had anticipated. They landed in front of a building at the border of Velaris. But while she had always seen it in a state of construction, now the green tarpaulin had been removed to reveal a place that looked like it had come out of a dream.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel's pov.

Azriel had been on many dates. Romantic, platonic, work related. He had been to plenty.

But none compared to this.

The time he spent with Gwyn. Watching her smile freely, gave him a sense of purpose, a sense of him doing something right. She was beginning to open up to him, and it made him feel like he was on top of the world. The fact that she trusted him, no one else, to take her down to the city and get reacclimated to socialising after a traumatic event no female- or male, for that matter- should have to go through was truly a freeing feeling.

It made him feel like he was not just inherently bad, like he wasn’t just a sadist who tortured people for a living and a messed up sense of obligation. The tainted hands he owned, the shadows that he used to spy on people, they could be used to bring comfort, happiness.

They could make someone feel secure, safe.

Even now, as Azriel placed his hand gently on the small of Gwyn’s back, the feelings remained. He led her into the beautiful two-story white stone building with wide terraces on each level. Gwyn stared at the place in awe, marveling at all the green plants they had been able to fit on the ceilings and at every column and railings. Azriel watched with rapt attention as her eyes roved over every surface, wide with wonder.

As they climbed over the few steps that led to the entrance, he nudged Gwyn, motioning with his free hand. Her lips parted as her gaze landed on the fountain that glimmered inside no doubt what was the lobby, only confirming this place as coming out of a dream. It was the epitome of elegance and romance.

And Azriel wondered if she too described this place as that. As something romantic.

Wondered if she knew he felt such feelings. That there was a reason he brought her to such an intimate place.

He told her to wait, then hurried over to the reception. One of the workers dressed from head to toe in pristine white garments tinted with light gold shimmer led the two to a table in the far back.

The inside was almost opposite from the outside in that the outside seemed to be shining under the afternoon sunlight. The interior, though, was darkly lit.

Everything seemed mysterious, from the candles that hung from sconces, to the ones that stood proudly on the candelabras on the white cloth covered tables. Stained glass windows covered large portions of the walls, changing colour with every step they took, further adding to the dark allure. One moment, they displayed a plethora of reds, then blue the next step.

It was easy to assume the glass panes were most likely charmed.

The worker stopped at a table next to a window that displayed a beautiful portrait of a woman peering up at the skies, her eyes upturned and hands raised in prayer. It almost looked haunting.

Azriel hurried to pull Gwyn’s chair back for her, then walked over to the other side to settle down himself.

“Azriel, this place is beautiful.”

Even the syllables of his name rolling off her tongue made his ears turn warm.

“You think so?” She nodded, her eyes still wandering around. “So you like it?”

She looked almost offended that he’d even asked such a stupid question. “Of course I like it! Anyone would love this place. It is so beautiful.”

Azriel folded his arms over the table, smiling as he gazed at Gwyn. “It opened recently, so I thought we could try out the food.”

She nodded. “I’ve seen this place before, but I think they were under construction then.”

He hummed. “So, what have you been up to this past week?”

She groaned, leaning back in her seat and dragging her hands down her face. “Don’t ask. Merrill has been bothering me so much. It’s almost like she’s trying to kill me or something.”

Azriel raised an amused brow. “Why is that?”

Her brows furrowed in annoyance. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Me? Laugh at you? Never.” He raised his hands, his smirk widening.

She huffed. “Go away. I won’t tell you.”

He chuckled, mirroring her position. “I’m sorry, I won’t laugh. Please, tell me how the awful female has been causing you woe.”

“One day, I will force you to work with her, and you won’t be so amused anymore.” She grumbled under her breath.

It only took a bit more encouragement, but she finally began speaking, forgetting his initial disrespect to her frustrations. She spoke throughout the whole time they spent in that restaurant, and Azriel was only too happy to listen.

Time lost its meaning, and before long, they were walking side by side down the market square.

“Can we go home?”

Azriel glanced over at her, then towards where the sun was setting. “Why?”

She sighed. “I need to finish researching some nymph-fae relations from centuries ago. Merril wants me to hand them in before tomorrow.”

Azriel’s lips twitched, but he nodded dutifully, avoiding her narrowed eyes as he bent to scoop her into his arms.

“One day, Azriel. I will make you pay for making fun of me.”

Azriel only looked up to the skies, then pumped his wings, catching the breeze and gliding over it. She squealed, her hold tightening on his neck. Azriel found it adorable, how she never really got used to flying. Each time, she’d make surprised noises and cling to him tighter.

“Would it kill you to give me a warning?!” She said into the skin of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

He’d be lying if he denied not warning her before jumping into the skies on purpose.

Lights were beginning to come on by the time he levelled out, and he squeezed Gwyn’s waist, prompting her to glance down. She smiled, her eyes tracking over all the tiny lights and their reflections off of the Sidra.

“I can never get used to this.”

He said nothing, just watched her. Sure, Velaris was beautiful and he himself remained in awe of the city, but nothing was more beautiful than Gwyn smiling. The way her eyes twinkled, the way her skin crinkled around her eyes and lips, the way her freckles shifted. Everything about her had him hypnotised, and he would never, ever, complain about anything in his life if he got lucky enough to see the sight all day, everyday.

For now, though, he was grateful he could even see the beautiful sight twice a day at training.

Too soon for Azriel’s happiness, his feet made contact with the floor on one of the house of wind’s balconies. It was the one closest to the library. He didn’t even know why he always picked this particular balcony to land on, but maybe in his subconscious, he wanted Gwyn to feel safer by landing in the place closest to her place of comfort.

Gently setting Gwyn on her feet, he straightened. She turned to him, and he knew what was coming.

It was a ritual, almost. After every outing of theirs, Gwyn would turn to him, smile, thank him, and then kiss his cheek.

It always left him a blushing mess.

He could see her preparing to rise onto her tiptoes, smiling up at him. Maybe if he kissed her cheek before she could, maybe he wouldn’t be left flustered?

Yes. And she might get shy and blush…It would be perfect, his shadows whispered excitedly.

But… no. It would be too forward of him.

Why? They complained.

Because I do not know if she is comfortable enough with me kissing her, he replied to them.

She likes master.

No. And even if she does, I do not know if-

Here’s the thing about his shadows. They were just that, shadows. Wispy, dark tendrils of smoke. But they could be corporeal when he needed them to be.

And being their own beings, when they wanted to be. 

So Azriel wasn’t expecting them to become semi solid at that moment as Gwyn’s lips were barely a hair's breadth away from his skin.

Nor was he expecting them to push against his other cheek, making him turn his head in surprise.

Azriel’s eyes widened as he realised the proximity between him and her. He only had a moment to turn his head away, hoping her lips would land on her cheeks.

Alas, he was too slow.

Her lips grazed his cheek, sure, but they also touched the corner of his. 

He froze, his gaze fixed on her face, the skin tinting a deep, beautiful shade of red. She pulled away quickly, her heartbeat so loud that Azriel could almost hear it.

He swallowed, his own heart beating in his throat. Blood rushed to his neck and ears as he looked at her, her eyes wide and lips parted.

I could get used to this sight, he thought.

But now wasn’t the time for such thoughts. He needed to apologise.

“Gwyn I-”

“Bye-”

They both spoke, then stopped. Waiting for the other to speak. Neither of them did.

It got so awkward to the point that Azriel sighed, taking a step away. Maybe it had not affected her as it did him. Maybe he had imagined her heart beating quicker. Maybe he imagined the blush on her face.

It was not a big deal, he wanted to tell himself.

But he knew that it was. A very big deal. At least to him.

But still, he bowed his head, offered her a smile. Motioned for her to speak.

“See you next week, shadowsinger.” She mumbled with a sweet smile. She didn’t meet his eyes, staring instead at the one shadow that had refused to leave her side the entire outing and was now wound around her wrist.

He watched her go, feeling the need to say something but fearing it wouldn't be enough.

It had never been before.

He had never been.  Not for himself, not for anyone.

But, for Gwyn, could he ever be?

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[solvisun]

tender is the hand.

your hands have a strange clarity, have you been walking among the stars?

dulce maría loynaz, tr. james o’ connor, from absolute solitude: selected poems

cw. angst no happy ending. 1.4k wc. less dialogues.

with you, or rather, through you, tsukishima kei understands how important the hands could be.

before anything else, he takes care of his own. one that’s littered in dried or broken skin, visible scars, rougher palms and long, callous fingers. has the purpose to block to secure his win, with tight, determined fists. and this is how he’s known that to find meaning, doesn’t necessarily have to be rational.

sometimes, the passion comes in the form of a child still believing stars can fall from the sky, or in each night one can pluck the moon and let it glow on the ceiling before they sleep. sometimes, you find love in the most mundane, and incomprehensible ways.

from simpler things like, patting yamaguchi through his anxiety, writing with his penmanship you always ogle in awe—it’s so pretty and neat, you’d mumble under your breath—as well as helping his mother through the kitchen even though he finds them tedious (he can’t admit that he sucks). where the first was to offer support to a friend, the other a basic skill taught since three, and the last his responsibility as a younger sibling. they’re all incredibly common, something that he perhaps could never in his lifetime wonder; who would even notice these things?

the answer arrives at eighteen and he’s holding your hand for the first time on new year’s eve, where there are fireworks in the making inside his melting ribcage, where your palms are pressed warm and— fuck, why are you so soft?

suddenly it becomes so apparent in the face of something new that there’s so much more he can do with the hands, so much more he can learn because of you.

with you, they become something else entirely. in brushing your hair out of your face when you doze off on the couch. in rubbing slow, absentminded circles on your back when you lean against him after a long day. in discerning and memorizing by heart the way you like your drink. adjusting the way he kneads dough when you try baking together. in picking up the softest, warmest gloves for you when winter rolls around.

he used to think that strength was only in how firm his grip was, in how tightly he could hold onto things he’s afraid to lose just to keep it from slipping. but oh, with you, he learns that strength is sometimes weaved in your name, in the feeling of your pulse on your wrist against his thumb when you pass him his glasses, hands lingering on the taste of your tangible presence, in the way he turns goo for no reason other than you call him kei so intimately, in the way he loves without restraint, without any fear of losing.

that the most meaningful victories aren’t about blocking something out—but about letting something in.

at nineteen, and then twenty. he commits himself and permits his hands to become instruments of care, of love. they wipe away stray tears, thread through your hair, adjust the blanket over your shoulders when you’re sick. or when you threaten him to wake you up after 30 minutes to continue your studying, only to grace you a forehead kiss and leave you snoring soundly.

at twenty-one, he almost forgets what life was like before you.

it’s second nature now, the way his hands search for yours, the way he instinctively reaches out—to fix your scarf, brush an eyelash off your cheek, squeeze your fingers when you mumble about a long day. his hands soften overtime, you comment, even though he's still playing volleyball and his skin still bleeds and he's still so humanly and awkwardly tender. you say, as if forever is a thing that exists with you, that he'll always remain soft in your heart.

he wonders when exactly he decided he would marry you. maybe it was the first time you said that to him on a random tuesday, or the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder, or when you sat on the floor with him after a rough game, your shoes and his shoes and all the stuff in your apartment haphazardly thrown everywhere, too tired to clean up tonight, linking your pinkies together in quiet communication. i’m proud of you through and through. i root for you. i love you.

maybe it was always meant to be you.

the ring is in his pocket. has been for months.

but there’s time.

(there’s always time.)

until there wasn’t.

life doesn’t pause for him to find the confidence to be ready—dreaming is nothing compared to having the will to chase it. and he dreams of a life with you, had a future laid out, tucked away in the lines of his palm as if it will preserve you too, he dreams so much that he takes time for granted, and time has come to bite him next.

because a week later, he was kneeling on cold hospital tiles, hands gripping onto yours, desperate, trembling. he wasn’t sure what he was praying to—science, fate, some cruel god—but he was praying, because your fingers were limp in his, and this wasn’t supposed to happen, not now.

he didn’t even notice anything at first. you’re so you—still laughing, still teasing, still fitting against his side like you were meant to be there. but the signs are there. a cough that lingers too long. the way you press your fingers into your temples as if trying to will away the exhaustion. the quiet, tired smiles.

and then there’s your hands.

the ones that have always known him. the ones that traced over his knuckles absentmindedly, the ones that fit so easily in his own. they’re colder now. thinner. your grip not as strong as before.

something in him starts to panic. but you smile, and you kiss the inside of his wrist, and you tell him,

don’t look at me like that, kei.

but how could he not?

when the hospital visits start, it becomes real. and kei, at twenty-one, who is committed to love you and have your tomorrows and maybe forever and hopefully forever, realizes that nothing he does can stop what’s coming. he can hold you. he can lace his fingers through yours. he can press his hand against your back as you sit through test after test, but he can’t fix this.

he asks you anyway.

because if there’s one thing he knows for certain, it’s that you are the only person who has ever made him want more. more than just the court, more than just winning, more than just the quiet loneliness he once thought was enough.

he asks. maybe he does it in the hospital room, voice quiet and firm, surprisingly calm despite the quiver of his lips and his dry mouth and tight chest, and cold, shivering fingers. trying to pretend like things are normal. maybe he doesn’t even get the words out, just slides the ring onto your finger with the softest touch and watches the way your eyes widen.

and you smile.

and you kiss him.

and you say yes.

and for a little while, he lets himself believe in forever. in your existence where forever is a thing. in your eyes that held him captive since the fireworks burst his chest. since he was eighteen and navigating how love can be both easy and not.

you grow weaker. your hands—your hands, the ones that have always reached for him, always held him steady—can barely grasp his own anymore. because there are nights when he watches you sleep, watches your chest rise and fall, and prays to a god he doesn’t even believe in to let you stay a little longer.

he wakes up to god’s answer that forever is cruel.

just like that.

and tsukishima kei, who has always known the weight of losing, has never felt anything like this. because no loss on the court, no failed block, no missed point, nothing could ever compare to the unbearable emptiness of his hands without yours in them.

and the ring. the ring is still on your finger. maybe it’s selfish, but he doesn’t take it off. he lets them. because you said yes. because with you, he learns that he doesn’t have to clench his fist to keep something that’s already his.

he does tighten his grip at some point, through the pool of tears, as if holding on hard enough might somehow bring you back.

the last thing tsukishima kei learns from you is the unbearable, stabbing beauty of hands. they hold things. and they let things go.

pls don’t kill me i’ll write a happier version of this 🥹 if u wish

[armysantiny]

Yes, no, maybe so? – Sylus

P: Sylus x gender neutral reader | G: angst, hurt/comfort, drabble | Inc: nightmares, Sylus having nightmares, Sylus' pov, that night where MC shot him, a reversal au (kinda), implied work trips, a lot of hurt and some comfort as a treat, a much needed cuddle at the end | Wc: 1.15k | W: blood, nightmares, gun mention | R: G

Min's notes: Look I said I like giving the LIs angst, aight? And this idea's been rattling in my head for a good month now. Enjoy <3

Sylus isn’t sure how he ended up here. Between endless business meetings and clearing up loose ends, the hallways surrounding him should be familiar, be somewhere he’s more than used to. But they’re not. His already irregular heartbeat trembles, a cloying, uncomfortable blend of fear and trepidation clogging the back of his throat, forcing him to stay silent as each step brings him closer to his supposed destination. Where’s he even walking to? In all his years building a name for himself, what could possibly have him trembling like this?

And where’s y/n?

Y/n’s supposed to be coming back from their overseas mission tonight, their flight in particular tracked on his phone just so Sylus can be there on time to pick them up. It’s been several—three—torturous weeks without his beloved’s presence, phone calls and texts barely making up for the lack of a certain hunter at home and in his arms. Sure, Sylus could have coincidentally found himself there and kept an eye on y/n from a distance, but he’s already promised y/n that he’ll wait for them to arrive.

He's never broken a promise made to his beloved, and he doesn’t intend to start doing so now.

So lost in thought as he walks, that Sylus freezes the moment he hears laughter so familiar that it hurts. It tears him out of the confines of his mind, forces him to take in the scene facing him with growing horror. A growing horror as Sylus recognises what it is exactly that he’s looking at.

Y/n sits in a chair—no, a throne—regarding him with dangerously amused indifference, one of Sylus’ weapons resting precariously in their lap. Their smile is a precious thing, something Sylus covets for himself like the selfish dragon he once was. But not this. Not the cruel, calculating expression wearing his beloved’s face.

“What is all of this?” He asks, quiet against the ringing in his ears. “Sweetheart... what are you doing?”

Y/n doesn't answer him, doesn't grant Sylus anything more than the upturn of their lips and a short huff. Like they never even heard him, and whatever his beloved is reacting to has nothing to do with the words that spill out of his mouth. He wants to reach out, hold them close and ask, no, plead for them to stop entire charade. Instead, his body moves on its own, a puppet on strings he can’t see, slave to a force he can’t reason with.

Vitriol pours out of his mouth; accusations of murder Sylus knows to be false. False because y/n would never kill in cold blood. Where his hands are stained red frequently, he can count on one hand the amount of times y/n has willingly joined him in staining their hands with human blood.

So why? Why is he saying all of this?

He blinks again, and Sylus wants to be sick, hands shaking as he’s stood over y/n. Holding firearms usually comes so naturally, a comfortable weight on a normal day, but not this. Anything but this, where y/n wears his smirk, pulling him closer until his hulking form encompasses them on the chair. The barrel of the gun presses against their chest, and this time Sylus doesn’t stop himself from begging.

“Sweetheart, kitten, please,” he chokes out, pulling his hand away only for y/n to yank it right back. He’s sure he still has his Evol, nestled away in the depths of his shared soul, but it’s not listening to him. Not obeying his desire to stop this. “Don’t make me do this to you, anyone else but you.”

“Why? Do you need help?” Y/n coos, wrapping their hand around the gun and pressing Sylus’ finger on the trigger, teasing it the very same way he did months ago.

A mistake, it was a mistake. I misjudged, please, forgive me.

“Go on, shall I help you? Yes, no, maybe so?”

His words. Those were his words. Oh, Sylus really feels sick now. Understanding hits him in waves, drowning him in the truth of the current situation. How could he possibly forget? How dare he forget the way he first treated his beloved back then; still stuck in the delusion that they remembered the past the two of them shared? Everyday, he’s tried to make amends, apologise for his brutish desperation in the face of their reunion. And y/n, sweet, precious y/n, they’ve forgiven his sins time and time again.

But Sylus can’t forgive himself, not when his actions hurt the love of his life in ways he could never fathom. He feels it now, he assumes; the dream, fear, concealed fury that that threatens to burst the seams of self-control. All the emotions his beloved—

The gun goes off.

“No, no, no— shit, my love, no.” Sylus cries, flinging the weapon aside to who knows where in favour of stemming the flow of blood. There’s so much, spilling past his fingers and drenching their shirt. It fills his mouth, cloying in the back of his throat, drowning his senses. Desperation digs its claws into him like he’s never felt before, pushing at him to fix this, cursing Sylus for being able to stop all of this blood from spilling.

Y/n’s eyes have lost their glow, yet their voice echoes, a mockery of his failure. His futile attempt at trying to outrun fate.

“Sylus?

It hurts, twists and squeezes his heart until it cracks.

“Sylus, love? C’mon, please, you need to wake up.”

How can he wake up, when they won’t be there in his arms?

“Sy—”

Y/n’s eyes are warm as Sylus bolts upright, warm and concerned and not at all lifeless as they search his face. His chest heaves, too hesitant to check his hands for what Sylus is too scared to even think of. But he doesn’t need to, his beloved bringing his hands to their face, miraculously blood-free. It doesn’t make sense, he felt the gun go off, felt the blood seep through his fingers.

“Darling, I— I don’t understand…”

“It was a nightmare, Sy,” y/n answers, a soothing balm to the terror in his chest. “You’re here, with me, I promise. Whatever it was, it won’t hurt you.”

Sylus almost wants to refute their claims, make a case for why that particular nightmare will never truly leave him, but he says nothing. Instead, he basks in their embrace, pulling y/n flush against his chest so he can feel their heartbeat and breathing in their scent until it overpowers the blood he swears he can still taste on the back of his tongue.

“…feeling any better?” They ask, and Sylus’ heart grows more than he thought possible. God, they’re just so sweet.

“Now that I’m sure you’re in my arms, I am.” As long as y/n’s with him, no matter where the two of them are, Sylus’ heat will always be whole. “Thank you for comforting me, my heart.”

“Anytime.”

[purpdrawsthings]

A "Justified" Betrayal.

.

.

.

.

.

As SMG4 holds SMG3's hand..

YOU FEEL SO.. WORTHLESS DON'T YOU?.. IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF HIM... IT'S ALL HIS FAULT... HE DID THIS DIDN'T HE? YOU COULD'VE FINISHED AND DONE EVERYTHING YOURSELF. EVERYBODY COULD'VE PRAISED YOU. BUT HE RUINED EVERYTHING.

LET GO OF HIS HAND. IT'LL FIX EVERYTHING. YOUR LIFE WILL BE PERFECT. YOUR VIDEOS WILL BE PERFECT. EVERYTHING WILL BE PERFECT. WHY SHOULD YOU SAVE HIM AND WASTE YOUR TIME? IT'S BETTER TO LEAVE HIM RATHER THAN SAVE HIM. WHAT MATTERS IS YOU AND THE VIDEO. IT HAS TO BE PERFECT.

"...4-4! Are y-you alright..? You see-"

"I'm sorry 3. I'm going to have to let you go."

"H-.. Huh...?"

"I need to upload this video. Everything I've done for it couldn't have been in vain. The video matters more. Besides, you never cared about me at all didn't you?"

"W-wait! I do care about you idiot! What're you-"

"You never did. What I'm doing is fair, and justified. I'm doing the right thing. It's about time I get out of your selfish grip. You deserve this. I'm the one whose getting out."

"4 PLEASE! DON'T LET GO I PROMISE EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE AND EVEN BETTER THAN WHAT IT USED TO BE! WE'RE FRIE-"

"We're 𝙉𝙊𝙏 friends. I'm not listening to your pathetic excuses anymore. It's time to let go. Have fun down there."

"4-.. 4..?..."

"..."

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Yippe yippeeeeee angst =D

Before we get on with anything else, this comic was inspired by @alelathedragon's version of events! This was simply my own take on it =3

You might be thinking, why'd I do this? For fun cuz I love angst so much ough 💜💜💜

You can imagine this comic in any way you want, but I mostly made it from 4's perspective! How twisted his mind is because of the keyboards influence and everything. I think it's one of the reasons he let go of 3's hand! And also because he thinks that what he's doing is fair and the right thing to do [ idiot |=[ ]

I prolly made 4 more selfish than he's been in this one because why not hehe

Anyways uhhhhhhh yeah that's about all I have to say! I probably lost most of my brain juice while drawing.

Yeetus chat! =3

@michaelscorneroftheinternet @dorriostareyes

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

[theprioryorange]

team bonding - a jackieshauna x fem!reader series (part one)

pairing(s): jackieshauna x fem!reader

summary: in which jackie and shauna have been at each other’s throats for weeks now, bickering over the most insignificant things. one night after they have a ‘private talk’, they approach you with a confession & an idea which can help them bond and mend their friendship. (or! jackieshauna have a threesome with the reader to solve their issues because they both have been crushing on you for a while...)

tags ⎯⎯ ✦ best friends to lovers, threesome, rivals to lovers, smut, fluff, hints of angst, power bottom!jackie taylor, dom!jackie taylor, power bottom!shauna shipman, dom!shauna shipman, service top!reader, sub!reader, teasing, slight bullying, powerplay, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, degradation, praise, petnames, light bondage, slight voyeurism, edging 𝝑𓏲

warnings!: nsfw, graphic smut, explicit language, 18+ (minors pls don't interact!)

word count: 11.9k+

a/n: this is my first ever time posting any of my yellowjackets fics of mine on here so i hope you all enjoy, i’m also going to be posting this to ao3, my username is jurinsanna if you guys ever read stuff on there :) w/ this fic although it's fem!reader i have tried to make it as inclusive as possible, there's no like super descriptive parts about the reader (their body type, skin colour etc.) so i hope nobody feels excluded

oh also the reader has glasses lol

It had been four weeks in the wilderness and Shauna was seriously pissing you off.

“I can’t believe we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere and you’re still concerned about being better than me”, you groaned as you fed the fire more wood.

She looked at you and failed to see how you shifted under her gaze. “We’re gonna be rescued soon, asshat. I want to just keep up with my studies.” You tried not to laugh at how utterly ridiculous that entire sentence was; only a girl like her would be worried about her grades in a literal life-or-death situation.

Shauna’s most-likely snappy rebuttal was cut off as you both heard an impatient voice cough behind you. Jackie Taylor stood with all the confidence you expected of a popular high school soccer captain. She looked pissed off too. You fought the urge to roll your eyes but also bit back a little smile, it was always so funny when she was annoyed. She had been very annoyed recently, it seemed her and Shauna were arguing 24/7 about nothing and everything. Like fire and ice. They hadn’t seemingly meshed well in the past few days, it looked to be more than the fact the tensions were high and stress amongst the team was seemingly contagious.

“What are you two doing?” Jackie asked, eyes flittering between you like she was looking for something that wasn’t there.

“Sitting by the fire, what else would we be doing?” Shauna replied for the both of you, the fire hitting her eyes, giving the brown irises specks of gold that make you try to reign in the pull of desire you felt in your chest. Your classmate’s big brown eyes had been a weakness of yours ever since you had first met.

“I don’t know”, the confidence that seemed to be held in your captain dissipated in seconds. Jackie’s shoulders deflated and she uncrossed her arms like a child scolded. It seemed like only Shauna could do that, and maybe you, but there hadn’t really been  a chance for you to confirm that yet.

Captain Taylor was petty and bitter for a reason you couldn’t work out, you and Shauna could tell she wanted to say something else but couldn’t think of anything (much to her own embarrassment). You filled in the silence that was beginning to teeter on awkward: “Umm, well, do you want to sit with us?”, coughing awkwardly, you tried to avoid Shauna’s irritated glare.

“Okay”, the standing girl said with a voice that suggested she was pleased as punch, sitting directly next to you on the other side.

Sitting directly in between Shauna and Jackie was certainly interesting, the contrast between them always made you giggle, and shiver. Shauna sat with her legs apart, manspreading, her jeans splattered with mud and the blood of an animal you could not remember, her nails were short and blunt. They were painted as black as the abyss. Jackie’s manicured nails looked odd in comparison, and in general too, since you had been in the wilderness for around a month now. Her legs were crossed, and the shorts showed off the scrapes and bruises that littered her calves (her very perfect calves). Gulping, you looked ahead and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“What?” Shauna asked you directly, fixing you with a suspicious glare, sometimes you wondered if she knew about the way you felt for her and her best friend. You tried to brush the thought aside, she was probably just being broody as usual.

“What?” You threw back, panic rising in your throat, “why are you looking at me like that?”

She doesn’t answer and lets up her gaze, instead staring into the fire once again, you try to push down the taste of disappointment. You had really wanted an answer to that question, every time the brunette looked you in the eyes it produced a feeling inside your chest that was akin to melting. The feeling of disappointment however was short-lived as soon you felt a weight on your other shoulder, the side that Jackie was sitting next to you; her head resting on your shoulder comfortably. Oh, Jesus Christ, you flushed bright red, sending a silent prayer to whatever God was listening that neither of them would notice how flustered you were from such a simple, friendly gesture.

It turned out either God didn’t exist, or if He did, that He was not listening, as when you gained enough courage to turn back to Shauna, her eyes met your own. You looked away quickly but didn’t miss the flash of something jealous that passed across her face. It at first made sense to you, really, she and Jackie were such close friends, or used to be, she was probably just jealous that you two were closer now. You and Jackie were childhood best friends after all.

Shauna currently hated the other girl though, so that jealousy was curiously placed. Or… you were just misinterpreting it.

“Dude, I’m so serious if we don’t get out of here soon, I’m gonna go insane”, Jackie’s voice penetrated the silence. She sounded stressed, a plausible reason why she was practically laying on you.

“We’re going to be fine, ok?”, you didn’t fully believe the words yourself but said them anyways as you gazed at her with concern swimming in your eyes, wanting to comfort your captain more than anything else. Shauna made a noise of amusement beside you, causing you to turn to her with a glare, it always seemed like they were unknowingly battling for your attention. Or at least you constantly struggled to decide who to give it to.

“What’s so funny?”, Jackie asked her best friend, voice laced with disgruntlement.

“I’m just thinking about how when we get back, I’m gonna kick Y/N’s ass on the midterm”, Shauna’s voice was light, and you could tell she was a) not intending to hurt your feelings and b) genuinely excited to compete against you again academically. It made you nostalgic somewhat, remembering all those times you compared test scores when you were little.

“You’re so not”, your reply came quickly and made the other laugh.

“I remember when we quizzed each other on enzymes, you barely got four out of ten”, Shauna was quick to remind you, making you flush. It wasn’t what she had said that had made you redden (seriously, you didn’t care all that much for biology right in that moment… at least not the stuff they taught on the Wiskayok curriculum), it was her tone. All playful and almost sultry.

Beside you two, Jackie groaned; “God, you two are such nerds.” She had never been interested in school as much as Shauna and you were – which was funny considering she did actually maintain straight As.

You and the other girl both turned towards your captain with matching twin glares, “We’re really not”, you protested.

She reached a hand up and playfully wiggled your glasses, “These tell me otherwise”,  you heard Shauna snort behind you and tried not to flush. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Shipman, you’re even worse”, Jackie laughed, carefully taking them off of you, you were about to protest, your vision already going a little blurry, but she soon was leaning over you. The dark blonde was pressed flush against you as she placed your glasses on Shauna, pushing them up the bridge of the brunette’s nose as she protested.

You tried not to squeal like a loser as you looked at Shauna, Jesus, the glasses were really cute on her.

“Looking good, Shipman”, Jackie teased. The taller girl huffed and took them off, handing them back to you with an apologetic glance. “Aww come on”, the popular girl protested. Jackie turned to you, a small smirk making its way gradually across her lips. “Don’t you think she looks good with your glasses, Y/N?”.

The question made you nearly faint, why was she asking that? It was clear Jackie knew what she was doing, from the way she was glancing at the two of you.

“Umm”, you hesitated, putting your glasses back on, of course you thought Shauna looked gorgeous no matter what, but it was embarrassing having to compliment someone so close to you. Especially when you had a massive crush on them and the person currently teasing you both. You turned to look at Shauna, instantly wishing you hadn’t, her big brown eyes held so much expectancy, she looked like a kicked puppy.

“Well? Did I look okay with them on?”,  she asked you.

The way she was looking at you made you want to cry. “Yeah, they look nice on you”,  your reply was quiet and nervous.

A small smile appeared on her face; you couldn’t see her teeth, but you could tell it was genuine. You couldn’t, however, tell that she was blushing. Jackie could though, ever so perceptive when it came to her best friend (and you, it seemed). “Aww, Shipman’s blushing”,  Jackie teased, she was still half leaning on you and didn’t appear to want to move anytime soon.

“I’m not blushing”, Shauna’s response was blunt but there was a hint of shaky embarrassment in her tone.

“Sure”,  Jackie drawled, not seeming to believe her. You didn’t know what to believe, mind too occupied with trying to figure out why Shauna cared so much about your opinion.

Soon they were both looking at you again, their gazes making you feel warm all the way down to your toes. Shauna took a moment to look at Jackie, before standing up, “I need to go help Taissa chop some wood, when it gets darker it’ll be too cold to do it”, her words made the feeling of desperation buzz in your chest. You didn’t want her to go, you wanted to stay there forever in between them on the cut-down tree trunk, saying nothing and doing nothing but listening to each other breathe.

“Duty calls”, you replied a little curtly, fighting the urge to lean into Jackie and fall asleep, she was so warm, and you were so cold.

Jackie stayed silent and Shauna made a move to leave, but not before pausing a moment to shoot a request to her best friend: “Could you meet me by the back of the cabin in like an hour? I need to talk to you about something.” The words made you nervous, even though they weren’t directed towards you, but Jackie didn’t seem to mind, instead giving her a thumbs up of approval before letting her arm drop again and wrap around your waist. After a moment she grabbed your arm and put it over her shoulder, your arm resting against her chest.

You and Jackie sat there for a while, your head leaned against hers, you could feel her heartbeat against the back of your arm, and it made you so tired you began to drift off. When you woke there was no one there but you, somehow the other had left without waking you up and had laid you down carefully on the log, leaving quickly, but not before laying a blanket over you.

The night air was cool, the fire had burnt out hours ago, and the hairs on your arms stood up as you wrapped the blanket tighter around you, standing to go inside. You could hear the other girls chatter inside and felt rather like you were about to go inside your home, it was odd how comfortable you all had gotten in that cabin. You wondered if in other circumstances the same sort of thing would have happened, the closeness. The door was opened slowly as you shivered on the porch, the girls went quiet at the site of you.

“Hey”,  Lottie spoke first, “you okay?”.

She looked concerned and you swallowed the feeling of affection that rose in your throat. These people were teammates, friends, fellow survivors, but they weren’t your family, you couldn’t think of them as such. The softness Van and Nat were looking at you with told a different story. “Uh, yeah, just fell asleep out there”, you said quietly.

Tai shot you a strained smile, “You want some food?”, she offered you an unremarkable selection of food: deer and berries. Your stomach made a sound as if it could see the food as well as your eyes could, Tai laughed a little, her smile real this time as she watched you grab a handful of berries.

Eating them quickly, you glanced around the room, “Where’s Jackie and Shauna?”, you asked.

Their places were empty and the girls around you shrugged, all except Misty, she regarded you with wandering eyes as she spoke; “They’re outside the back of the cabin, said they needed to talk privately.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion; they had been there all this time? Surely you had been asleep for at least two hours, what “private conversation” took more than an hour?

“I’m gonna go look for them”,  you said, leaving no room for argument, walking past the girls and through the cabin till you were outside, this time leaving through the back entrance.

It was so dark you had to squint to see, even with your glasses on. Everything seemed still, all that could be seen was the lining of the forest. Trees for miles. You began to grow worried, searching with a little more fervour for the two girls as you realized it was way too cold and way too dark for them to be out here alone. Still not seeing much, you went round to the side of the cabin, near an area of forest, your ears were suddenly greeted with an assortment of sounds: rustling, heavy breathing, moans?

“Hello?”, you called out, thoroughly flustered.

The sounds stopped, before being replaced with muttered curses and panicked shuffling. “Shit, uh- hey”, Jackie appeared from behind a tree and approached you slowly, as if you were a feral cat and would run off with any sudden movement. She looked positively debauched, her hair was messed up and her t-shirt was scrunched halfway up her stomach. You could see a litter of badly hidden marks across her neck and chest. Questions were about to tumble out of your mouth, but you both were interrupted by Shauna coming out of the same private spot. She approached you two slowly, looking as roughed up as the other girl, her mouth was swollen and she was holding her flannel as if she had taken it off, she put it back on quickly, to you and Jackie’s shared secret delight.

“What are you guys doing out here?”, the question sounded shaky leaving your mouth and you thought you already knew the answer, but that answer seemed almost impossible, maybe even too good to be true - not that you’d admit to yourself that you’d think of it as that. It didn’t make sense, Jackie Taylor was the straightest girl you had ever met, and the most sexual interest you had ever seen Shauna show was towards her scientific calculator during the last physics test you had taken.

Not to mention the fact for the past week they had been arguing 24/7 and had been at each other’s throats since even before the crash. By the marks on Jackie’s neck though, you could guess this time they had taken the phrase quite literally.

“Oh, just uh, talking through some stuff. Working out issues, you know?”, Shauna sounded nervous, and it made you even more suspicious. But you probably had just read the situation wrong, right? You were cold and still slightly tired, the dark could have easily pulled tricks on you, especially with your poor eyesight.

“Right, um, yeah”, you replied, “you guys should probably come inside.” They nodded quickly and followed you round the side to the front of the cabin.

“But um, could we talk to you upstairs privately? Once we get inside?”, Jackie spoke from behind you as you approached the porch. You were flooded with apprehension and a twinge of excitement and pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

“Okay”.

The journey from the porch to the attic upstairs was eerily quiet, Shauna and Jackie seemed to be communicating in shared secret glances which made you feel twitchy and hot. What were they going to speak to you about? Did they not want to be friends anymore? The thought made your stomach turn. In just a few moments all three of you were standing in the cabin’s attic, the inside was a little warmer, so you dropped the blanket onto the floor where Shauna’s makeshift bed was. It looked oddly cozy.

Jackie spoke first, “So um, we wanted to talk to you about something, something we’ve uh… noticed.” Shauna nodded at her words, and they stepped a little closer to you, and each other.

You nodded, trying to keep calm, what the fuck was she talking about? “You know it’s, like, normal to have crushes on girls, right?”, she asked. The question was more rhetorical than literal, and it made your brain short circuit for a brief moment.

Your eyes widened. “What?”, the words were out before you could stop them. Shauna exchanged a glance with her best friend before elaborating.

“We’ve noticed you’ve been like, looking at us. I don’t know, I only noticed a few weeks ago when Jackie pointed it out to me, she said that you always stared at me. And then like, thinking about it, I realised you also always stare at her. You never really, like, show interest in boys or anything like that, so that’s the conclusion we’ve come to… and to be honest it’s the only one we can think of that makes sense.”

Jackie nodded with each word she spoke, seemingly comfortable with the idea that you had a crush on both her and Shauna or at least were somewhat attracted to them.

“We’re not mad or anything”, the light-haired girl rushed to clarify, anxious that you’d bolt off downstairs.

“Oh” was the only word that could come out of your mouth.

Shauna laughed a little, “I think we’ve broken her”.

Jackie laughed at that, before stepping a little closer to you with a teasing grin, “…We’re right though, about you liking us, aren’t we?”.

��W-what, I-I”, you stuttered before giving up on trying to talk to deny it, you moved for the door but were stopped by two hands on your chest as your captain stood between you and the door, blocking your attempts to flee.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, baby” Jackie pushed you roughly, laughing as you collided with Shauna, your back pushed against the brunette’s front as she held you in place.

“What?”, you were breathless, head turning to meet Shauna’s gaze - she looked almost ravenous. Turning back to Jackie, you realised she had a similar expression, one not too dissimilar from the one a wolf wore looking at its prey.

“You heard what she said” Shauna spoke from behind you, arms stilling your attempts to break free of her grasp. You didn’t really want to get away from her though, in fact, you wanted to sink into her arms as you felt Jackie’s soft wet mouth explore every yet undiscovered part of you. But appearances had to be kept up, it was a lot to take in all at once. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for you, they both saw right through you.

The girl in front of you laughed, “You know what me and Shipman mean, be a good girl and listen carefully now.” Jackie reached a hand out to trail drown your front, fingertips raising goosebumps down the soft flesh of your arms.

“Jackie and I, well, we’ve had some disagreements recently”, Shauna started to explain, but the cogs in her brain seemed to be whirring all too fast and she gazed at her captain slash best friend a little pleadingly, waiting for her to continue. Jackie seemed to notice her hesitancy and grinned, she moved closer towards you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. She spoke then with a confidence Shauna currently did not have, or appeared to have anyway.

“I remember Coach saying one time that the best way two players could bond and fix whatever little problems they’d been having was by… actually, we want you to try and guess.” It was getting clearer by the moment that they were not going to make this easy for you.

You cleared your throat and tried to think back to what he had said, your mind came up blank, only thinking of the heat that Shauna’s front was producing by being pressed flush up against your back. You could feel how hard her nipples were through her bra. “I-I, uh, I don’t know”, your reply made them both laugh, Jackie smiled a little softer then, her eyes wandering to the girl behind you. You turned to follow her gaze, eyes meeting Shauna, the brunette leaned in to whisper in your ear, you could feel the warmth of her mouth near your neck and fought the urge to whimper. All composure was lost at the next word she spoke.

“Sharing”.

They let out twin sighs of desire as you made what seemed to be the most embarrassing and desperate noise of your life. “I think she likes that idea”, Jackie teased, running her fingers up to the hem of your t-shirt, they hovered there for a second before she grabbed hold of it, slightly tugging it up, exposing the skin of your lower stomach.

“Of course she does, she likes us”, Shauna grinned, her confidence seemingly growing by the second.

“Can I take this off?”, you were asked by Jackie, who was pressing her face into your neck. “It’s okay if you want to keep it on”. To them your comfort was more important than the amount of fun they got from watching you squirm, a small reminder that they had been your closest friends before anything else. They truly did care – a fact that made you comfortable enough to agree to their request.

You nodded. Neither of them seemed satisfied with your response though, so Shauna urged you further.

“Use your words, love”.

“Yes”.

“Good” Shauna hummed, moving back a little as Jackie pulled your t-shirt up and over your head. You could hear as their breaths hitched at the sight of you, you stood there a little nervous in only a black bra. “Wow” the girl stood before you spoke, always the first to give her opinion, “you’re beautiful”, she murmured.

“Jackie’s right, you’re gorgeous”, Shauna said, sounding almost out of breath - the brunette smiled a little and her eyes trailed down to the small of your back. As they took in your body you fought the urge to cross your arms across your chest, not because they were making you uncomfortable, but because you weren’t the most confident of people. Some people at Wiskayok had given you shit for your looks before, before joining the soccer team you had been pretty chubby, and none of the varying physical changes you had went through during your life had made a difference to the way you felt about yourself.

Jackie noticed your sheer nervousness, there was a glint of remorse and recognition in her dark eyes. “You don’t have to hide from us, ok? We love what we see, don’t we Shauna?”. Despite her shitty judgemental parents, and all the popular girl stereotypes Jackie fit, being cruel wasn’t one of them. Throughout your time being classmates and close friends with her she had always been in your corner. Right then was no different.

The same case applied to Shauna. The young woman in question nodded, moving forward so she could be pressed against you again. “Jackie and I are so excited to share you, just for us hmm?”,  the brunette was as close as she was before as her lips ghosted the side of your neck.

This time, Jackie moved closer as well, running a hand down your trembling body as she leaned in close to your face.

“Can I kiss you?”,  she asked, her voice was sweet, but her facial expression told a different story; it looked like she wanted to eat you alive. You’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t let her. You would let Jackie Taylor and her very stubborn best friend do anything they wanted to you.

“Yeah”, it seemed right then you couldn’t give more than one-word answers, your voice trembled as she leaned in and kissed you sweetly, she tasted faintly like cherries. It was probably the lip gloss she still had some of, despite the fact you three had been in the wilderness for nearly a month.

Both of you heard the strange, desperate sound Shauna had made at the sight of you two kissing. Jackie laughed and turned to her best friend, “Do you like watching us? Being watched? I bet you wish she saw us outside earlier, don’t you?”, she asked Shauna as you turned to the brunette who was flushing profusely.

Your stomach was still buzzing from the kiss with your captain as you looked at the midfielder. “Yeah, I do”, Shauna replied, looking mildly embarrassed at being caught out, but mainly just wanton.

“Why don’t you give Shauna a kiss now, baby? She’s ever so good at it”, the shorter girl let go of you and gestured to Shauna, who stood behind you with a hand on your waist. You didn’t need to be told twice as you turned your head and took Shauna’s mouth with your own, the kiss was every bit as heated as your one with Jackie’s was sweet.

“Shit”, you, and Shauna could hear the light-haired girl beside you let out a noise of approval as she watched you two kiss. “Slip her some tongue, Shipman”, she ordered, the words made you almost choke, as well as the fact immediately after you could feel the other girl’s tongue swiping against your bottom lip for entrance. Shauna was always good at following orders and Jackie was always good at giving them - the girl was the captain of your team for a reason. The dark-haired girl tasted like the berries she had eaten that morning, there were also hints of… cherry?

Oh. So that’s why they were in the spirit of sharing. You hadn’t been mistaken thinking what you thought when you saw them outside earlier. The thought of the two of them together out there, kissing heatedly against a tree, made your knees weak - even more so when Shauna let out a whine into your mouth.

“You two are really enjoying yourselves huh?” Jackie observed, lust-blown pupils fixated on the point where Shauna’s mouth - and, god, her tongue met yours. You half expected her to pull up a chair and put her feet up to enjoy the show, but Jackie Taylor was never one to just observe, she loved to be a little more hands-on. So, really, you shouldn’t have been surprised when she approached behind you and moved your hair out of the way, exposing the soft skin of your neck. You moaned into Shauna’s mouth as Jackie began to place hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, she grazed her teeth against your throat and could feel your pulse against her tongue. You trusted her not to bite too hard if that’s what she wanted.

“Fuck”, you groaned as you could feel Jackie bite your neck lightly. Clearly the weeks in the wilderness had awakened some strange primal urge in the both of them, but you weren’t complaining. She didn’t bite you hard enough to draw blood, and kissed the mark she’d made on your neck to sooth it. Her lips were now at your collarbone.

“So cute”, Shauna pulled away from your mouth to praise you.

“I need you both so bad”,  your pleas were cut off by the brunette.

“Let’s take the rest of these clothes off, me and Jackie really don’t want anything in the way.” The dark-blonde-haired girl pulled away from your neck and tugged down your shorts, stepping out of them you noticed how fiercely they stared at your body. The idea made you simultaneously ecstatic and nervous, more so the former than the latter.

They moved you onto the makeshift bed Shauna had set up on the attic floor, it wasn’t the sort of thing out of a romance novel but the three of you really didn’t care, you all were too busy thinking about getting your mouths on each other.

“Why don’t we get out of these clothes too, Shauna?” Jackie suggested, stood above in front of you, she didn’t wait for the other girl’s response as she lifted the crop top over her head, throwing it carelessly to the floor near where your discarded clothes were. Next came her shorts, kicking them off like you had, they joined the small pile of clothes that had accumulated. Of course Jackie Taylor was wearing pink matching underwear, even when stranded in the wilderness fighting for survival, her bra had little love hearts printed on it, her panties however only had one small red heart right in the middle.

Shauna’s eyes were locked on her chest, and you fought the urge to laugh. Their desire for each other had been so obvious, even before you had nearly caught them earlier, or before they had made theirs for you clear, and you had been so oblivious to it all. The taller girl stared for a few moments longer before following suit, taking off her jeans, once she got to her flannel, both you and Jackie made noises of protest.

“Wait, wait, wait - keep that on, but take everything underneath off.”, you were relieved that Jackie was so outspoken in the bedroom, as you were thinking the exact same thing as she was. That damn red flannel would soon be the death of both of you.

“Ok”, Shauna murmured as she took off her t-shirt that was underneath and then put her flannel back on over her bra, she kept it open with the buttons undone so both you and Jackie could see her perfectly sculpted abs. Her bra was black like yours. You resisted the urge to look down, knowing if you caught a glimpse of her toned, long legs you would most likely pass out before you could get to feel them wrapped around your head.

Jackie grabbed her waist gently and pulled her close, leaning in for a kiss that was all tongue. She only pulled away for a moment to pause and muse over your lustful expression, “I think she likes watching us”.

Shauna laughed at her words before replying: “Let’s give our girl a show then”, she moved towards her best friend’s mouth with more fervour this time. You could both tell she was getting more desperate by the minute.

They were right of course, the sight of them kissing drove you fucking insane. You sat from your place on the floor and observed as they made pretty little noises into each other’s mouths, you wondered if today earlier was the first time they had kissed. Probably not. They were best friends after all. It seemed like Shauna noticed your desperation, as soon she moved out of Jackie’s arms and was kneeling in front of you, a hand trailing up your chest.

“Can I take your bra off baby?” She asked, you looked behind her to Jackie, who stood watching attentively.

“Please”, you replied, you wanted, no, needed, to feel Shauna’s mouth on your bare chest.

She unhooked the garment skilfully, leading Jackie to tease her. “Wowza, Shipman, you’re a bra pro.” Shauna rolled her eyes, flushing a dark crimson before finally removing your bra. You smiled at how flustered she got when Jackie teased her. Both of their eyes immediately went straight to your bare chest, “Holy shit”, Jackie breathed out.

Shauna hummed in agreement, a hand itching to reach out and grasp one of your breasts.

“You have like…really nice tits”, the standing girl sounded like she was going to pass out. You could relate to that feeling as Shauna gently moved her fingertips down your collarbone to the top of your right breast.

“Can I…?”, she trailed off. You nodded eagerly and soon Shauna’s warm hands were touching the most sensitive parts of your chest.

“Oh”, you breathed out as she thoroughly felt you up.

“You’re so pretty baby” Shauna’s voice was quiet as she leaned in and kissed you.

“Jesus,” Jackie said from behind the both of you, sounding the most turned-on someone could physically be. “Let me feel her now, Shauna”, her tone was barely controlled as she approached and Shauna protested a little, the noise being muffled by your mouth.

“Come on, Shipman, we’re supposed to be sharing her.” Jackie whined, and Shauna fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Fine”, she groaned as she pulled begrudgingly away from your mouth. It was flattering to watch them fight over your attention, a part of your brain was still convinced this was some elaborate joke ��� that all the rest of the team were about to jump out of the shadows and yell that you just got pranked. That hadn’t happened yet though, and didn’t look like it was going to anytime soon. They were serious about wanting you.

The realisation had your chest falling and rising quickly in the cold air but was soon warmed by Jackie’s breath. She sucked one of your nipples into her mouth, you gasped and tried not to moan, her muffled laughter causing vibrations through your body.

“You like Jackie’s mouth on you baby?”,  Shauna asked, sounding a little breathless herself. The midfielder opened her shirt so you could see her chest, she laughed when you flushed and looked away instinctively.

Soon Jackie was kissing up your chest, up your neck, and to your mouth: “Do you want us to touch you?”, she asked as Shauna moved to kneel on the other side of you. You nodded, too nervous and starstruck to form a sentence. “Hmmm, what do you think Shipman, should we give her what she wants?”.

The other athlete furrowed her eyebrows in thought, “I think she should work for it, like when we play soccer, you don’t just go for a goal immediately do you? You pass the ball, tire the other team out… that is if we’re still using the excuse that this is just one big team exercise for soccer.” Jackie cracked a grin at that. What Shauna was saying made you shiver, it was scary but exhilarating at how utterly powerless you were under their gazes.

Of course, you technically did have power and could stop at any time you wanted, but you liked feeling like they controlled you. “How can she work for it?”, Jackie asked, a cruel gleam in her eye.

“What do you think, Y/N?” Shauna turned to you then; pupils so blown with lust that her eyes looked almost black.

“I, uh, I don’t know”, your voice was unsteady, and you tried to hold back a moan as Shauna’s hands traced your breasts again.

“Aw, come on, I’m sure your slutty mind can think of something up”, Jackie laughed. Your face warmed and you shifted under Shauna’s hands, “I’m, “ - Shauna moved to pinch one of your nipples, “fuck, I’m not a slut.”

Shauna raised an eyebrow, “You’re letting your two best friends fuck you, that sounds pretty slutty to me”, her words made you squirm.

“It’s a good thing though, we like it”, Jackie added, moving to push your hair back away from your face.

“Yeah, we’ve been waiting to have you for literally forever.” Shauna’s words made you nearly choke on your own spit, how long had they been feeling that way? You imagined them sneaking glances at you in the locker room when you were all getting changed, or on the pitch when you would pour water over yourself to cool down during a drink break.

“Wait, fuck I’ve had an idea.” Jackie suddenly said, looking like a lightbulb had just gone off above her head. The amusing image was about to make you laugh until Shauna began to trace her fingertips lower down your body.

“What is it?”, you struggled to ask as Shauna’s fingers just reached the hem of your underwear, she looked up at you as if she was thoroughly pleased with herself. She was so mean, you loved it.

“You can put your mouth to good work.”

Oh.

“Shit”, Shauna laughed, “another genius idea I’m not gonna lie, I need to step up my game – poor baby looks like she’s about to pass out.” They teased you a few moments longer before Jackie began to grow impatient, needing your mouth on her.

“Is that something you want?” sure she was absolutely soaked through her underwear, but their priority right then was your comfort more than anything else. You were afraid if you opened your mouth you’d start begging, so silently (but very enthusiastically) nodded your head. Staying silent clearly didn’t save you from getting teased, as they cooed and giggled at your reaction respectively.

“Okay, baby, lie down for me”,  your captain instructed, the teasing tone from earlier being replaced with soft command. You wanted to ask how you could make her feel good with your mouth if you were laying down but trusted her enough to feel confident that whatever it was, was going to work out, so laid down. Shauna moved a few pillows behind your head, so that your neck wasn’t in an uncomfortable position, the consideration made your heart flutter.

“Shipman, help me take my panties off, will you?”, she asked a suddenly flustered Shauna as she unhooked her own bra and let it drop to the floor.

“U-uh, yeah, shit, sure.”

Next thing you knew, Jackie’s underwear was gone, and you were face to face with her pussy as she straddled your head. An embarrassingly loud noise left your mouth as you took her in. “You like what you see?”, she grinned from her position above you, you couldn’t see her face but could hear in her voice how much she was enjoying teasing you like this. Fighting the urge to immediately put your mouth on her, you bit your tongue and listened as they made fun of you.

“I bet she’s trying really hard to not taste you”, Shauna said, moving next to you so she could look at your face. “Jesus Jackie, she looks like she’s going to cry with how desperate she is”, she cooed.

Jackie laughed and wiggled her hips like she was taunting you. “Okay, okay”, she seemed like she was going to give you a break and lower herself onto your impatient tongue, “I’ll let her prove that she deserves to be fucked”. Your captain slowly lowered herself onto your mouth, with a moan she leaned her head back, pleasantly overwhelmed by the sensation of your tongue moving pressed flat against her clit. You moved downwards to her slit and prodded inside her with your tongue, hoping to find her g spot as soon as possible. It would be a complete lie to say you hadn’t given much thought to what your best friend would taste like, she tasted so good, and you knew you’d never forget her taste or her scent or the way her hands were now tangled in your hair.

“Shit, Shauna, she’s actually pretty damn good at this”, she spoke to you next: “have you had practice eating pussy baby?” You moaned into her and tried to respond but were too preoccupied with trying to get her to cum in your mouth as you needed to taste it desperately, your underwear was already soaked through but the things they were saying made them even more so.

“I don’t think she can talk”, Shauna chuckled, observing the way you kept going back up to Jackie’s clit to give it attention.

“Whatever, fuck, whatever she’s doing it’s- ugh- it’s working”, the girl above you sounded like she was drunk on your tongue, her words slurred and struggled. Shauna couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy, of Jackie, of you? she couldn’t tell - but knew whatever it was, was outweighed by the sheer arousal that overcame her watching as her best friend rode your face.

Jackie began to grind into your face, deciding she couldn’t just sit still any longer, she needed to have control. You gave it up happily, as usual when it came to her, your hands reaching around to grab her ass and help her ride your face.

“Slap her ass”, the brunette ordered, you obeyed without hesitation and soon a small red print showed on the unmarked flesh of Jackie’s ass. Shauna moved around and kneeled so that her and Jackie were facing each other, almost face to face, she kissed her deeply.

“Fuck”, Jackie whimpered into her mouth, already close. The other girl grinned and tucked some of Jackie’s dark blonde hair behind her ear.

“I didn’t expect her to be so good at this”, the brunette mused, it was true, she knew you weren’t completely innocent but hadn’t expected for you to be this good.

“Well, she’s beaten your science test scores before so- “, Jackie’s broken words were interrupted by a moan as you began to suck on her clit, “I’d say she’s pretty much good, fuck, at e-everything now”.

The midfielder feigned offence, “Just because she’s good at eating pussy and science doesn’t mean I’m not”.

“Wanna prove it?” Jackie asked her through breathy moans with the hint of a smirk.

“Happily, but right now it’s about this little slut”, Shauna moved a hand down to stroke some of your hair surprisingly gently. Gentle was not a word to describe how Jackie’s fists were still gripping your hair though as she impaled herself on your tongue. They began to kiss again, and you’d have given anything to see them as well as hear them, the desperation didn’t last long as Jackie’s hips began to stutter.

“Fuck, Shipman, she’s gonna make me cum.”

Shauna laughed, kissing her again, “Go on, babe. Cum all over our best friend’s face.” It turns out Jackie Taylor could take orders as well as give them, as soon she was coming hard in your mouth with a loud cry. She tasted even better than you had imagined, Shauna had to steady her so she didn’t collapse on top of you, both of you calmed her as she came down from her orgasm.

“Holy shit”, the striker breathed out, legs shaking, you tried not to let out a noise of disappointment as she moved off of your face, instead opting to sit on your lap.

That feeling was short-lived though as she carefully bent down to kiss you. Jackie groaned as she tasted herself on your mouth, your other teammate watched for a moment before kneeling beside you so she could kiss you too. Shauna made a similar noise, “Fuck, Jackie, you taste really good.”

“Thanks babe”, Jackie grinned, still a little out of breath. She looked down at you with an expression of satisfaction, “I think you’ve proved yourself, what do you think?”. You didn’t nod or speak, still too dazed from your mouth being buried in Jackie’s pussy.

“I think she’s earned it”, Shauna spoke for you, kissing you sweetly on the forehead.

The other girl hummed in agreement, “How do you want us baby?”. A million images instantly flashed into your head, all more vulgar than the last - the sad truth was you wanted too much. Wanted them too much.

“She’s always been indecisive, Jackie. Let’s just make her take what we give her, hmm? I’ve got a few ideas.” Shauna’s words made your head swim, a few ideas could mean anything.

“Such as?”, her best friend asked, the brunette simply smirked and moved in closer to the other so she could whisper something into her ear. You tried hard to listen to what she was saying but couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of your own heart.

The idea seemed to be a good one though as Jackie almost gasped with excitement as she turned to Shauna, “Oh, fuck, Shipman, you’re a kinky one aren’t you?”

The taller girl blushed to her friend’s delight, “Shut up”. Your eyes darted between them, what had Shauna suggested? The thoughts were interrupted as the midfielder began to take her flannel off, you bit your lip to keep from protesting, knowing seeing her bare chest would be worth the price to pay. To your surprise though she didn’t move to take off her bra, instead taking the shirt in her hands and adjusting the sleeves. Whilst she done that, Jackie got off of you and offered you a hand to help you get up.

“Get up and kneel”, she commanded once you were on your feet again.

You obeyed immediately and found yourself then kneeling on the floor of the attic, shaking with barely contained anticipation. Shauna stood only in her bra, the red item of clothing still in her hands, “Hands behind your back”. The young woman’s tone was blunter and more to the point than Jackie’s, less interested in teasing you and more interested in getting exactly what she wanted then & there.

A hint of confusion washed over you, but you trusted and  obeyed her anyways, moving your hands behind your back. The two girls observed you with mischievous smiles, “She’d do anything we’d ask, huh?” Jackie mused, sitting and watching as Shauna stepped forward.

The brunette took the flannel and began to bind your wrists with it, using it as sort of makeshift rope. Oh, she was tying you up. The fact it was with the flannel made it even hotter, Jackie thought so too; “We really like when you wear that, you know? It looks sexy on you.” Shauna blushed, it was a common sight with how easily flustered she got but never failed to make you and Jackie both smile. You unfortunately couldn’t see her face though in that moment, your face turned towards the wall as your best friend tied you up. Once she was satisfied with how tight she had bound your wrists and walked around you, so you were at eye level with her very toned stomach.

Shauna’s abs were a godly sight and you had to keep your mouth closed shut, scared of saying something incredibly pathetic about how much you wanted her inside you. She tilted your head up so you were gazing at her face, “My eyes are up here”.

You turned red as Jackie laughed behind you from her position on the blankets. “C’mon, stop teasing us and just take your clothes off!”, your captain exclaimed, her tone was playful, but it was clear she was growing impatient. You couldn’t help but agree, you had spent all too long fantasising about what the brunette’s tits looked like.

Shauna rolled her eyes, but her hands moved to the back of her bra to unhook it. She let the black garment drop to the floor and your breath hitched, you could barely handle the sight of Jackie’s chest, let alone hers as well as Shauna’s. They were going to be the death of you.

“Wow”, Jackie’s eyes raked over her best friend’s nearly naked body, “I mean wow”. Her words summed up your thoughts about your teammate perfectly.

Shauna shot her a nervous but appreciative smile, before looking down at you. “What do you think?”, it was like an odd mirror of your interaction earlier - except instead of asking how your glasses looked on her, this time she was asking how she looked without anything but panties on.

“You look beautiful”, you struggled to say, her whole body seemed to thrum at your praise.

“Thank you, baby… now”, she began to speak, glancing over quickly at her captain, “I was hoping you’d show me how good you were with your mouth, I mean Jackie got to feel your tongue, so it’d be unfair if I didn’t.” You let out a breath, cursing the fact your hands were tied as you felt the need to steady yourself. Her words made you lightheaded with desire.

“Please let me”, you spoke, trying to not ramble. She grinned and kissed you, guiding you back to where Jackie sat.

Shauna laid down, moving so that you were kneeling in between her legs. Jackie got up and kneeled behind you, beginning to kiss your neck, “Shauna was also thinking that whilst you showed her how good you were with your mouth, I could make you feel good with my fingers. It’d be cruel to make you wait longer, right?”

The idea made you shiver and had appeared before in some of your wet dreams. Jackie’s fingers were long, you had always bet that they could reach all the places deep inside you that needed to be reached.

“What do you say baby?”, the brunette in front of you asked, looking at you both for approval.

“Okay”, you nodded desperately, Jackie smiled against your neck and reached a hand around your stomach, moving downwards towards the hem of your underwear.

Just as she was about to move her hand inside, she stilled and pulled away, “Actually, let’s see you make Shauna feel good a bit first, she needs to take those panties off.” You could see Shauna try to hold in a grin at how mean she was being to you, you took in a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Can you take my panties off for me?”, your taller teammate asked you, moving her waist upwards so you could easily move the underwear down past her hips. You were going to joke that you couldn’t since your hands were tired (quite literally) but realised she hadn’t forgotten that. They meant they wanted you to take them off with your mouth. Jesus, had half the novels Shauna had been recommending you this entire time been erotica? Where did she get all these ideas from?

It wasn’t to say though that you were complaining, nodding, and wasting no time in getting them off with your teeth. Once they were off both you and Jackie let out a noise at the sight of her, yours more a whine, hers more of a groan.

“Shit, baby, I’m jealous you’re going to get to taste her”, Jackie told you, trailing her tongue lightly against your pulse point. You squirmed at the words as well as the sensation, as they put the idea of Jackie eating out Shauna into your head. You prayed to whatever God that was listening that there was a chance you could see that in the future, no matter what happened to you guys out there after that, you’d die happy.

Shauna leaned her head back against the pillows, “Don’t worry you’ll get your chance”, she told her so matter-of-factly it made your stomach tingle.

Captain Taylor pulled away from your neck, “Good”, her reply was blunt, but you could tell on the inside she was ecstatic. Who wouldn’t be excited at the idea of a chance to eat out Shauna Shipman? You certainly were.

“Bend over then and tongue fuck her, or are you going to stay there all day?”, Jackie moved back and was growing impatient by the second. You were a little nervous but weren’t taking your time on purpose, just more in awe at the sight of a very naked Shauna Shipman, you liked it when your captain snapped at you though.

Shuffling back a little, you bent down so your face was in front of Shauna’s cunt. The brunette let out a half moan, half sigh as you licked a long stripe from her entrance all the way up to the top of her swollen clit. “I’d let you use your fingers on me too, pretty girl, but I really like the sight of you tied up. Bet Jackie does too.”

Jackie hummed in agreement, letting one of her hands trail across your ass. She was itching to get her fingers inside of you, but didn’t want to let you know that. Suddenly, the sound of a loud slap rang across the room as Jackie’s hand connected with the left side of your ass.

“Fuck”, you cried out, voice somewhat muffled by your best friend’s soaked core.

Shauna barked a laugh, “Oh fuck, she likes that, hit her again.” The striker slapped you again, the brunette in front of you closed her eyes and savoured the sound of Jackie’s palm making contact with your soft flesh. There was no denying your teammate had a hunger for violence, from her dangerous plays on the pitch, to her short temper and tendency to get into fights. So, there was little surprise when the discovery was made that Shauna Shipman was a bit of a sadist in the bedroom.

Jackie regarded the sight with equal lust and fascination, she was excited to figure out all the things that really made you melt. Things that would make you squirm, all your weaknesses that would make you do anything she asked you to. That would make you hers.

“Suck on my clit, baby”, Shauna moaned, her hips bucking up so her cunt could meet your mouth. You did as she said, taking her clit in your mouth and sucking firmly, your hands desperate to move around to her pussy, but the efforts in trying to untie the flannel were futile. Plus, you couldn’t risk ripping the fabric of that thing, it was the best thing in Shipman’s entire closet.

Shauna tasted amazing; they both did. You came to the realisation that you could do this for hours, days even, if they’d just let you.

“Do you want my fingers now?”, Jackie asked, watching as Shauna whined and writhed under your mouth’s ministrations. You pulled away for just a second to answer your captain with a plea, but Shauna still groaned in protest and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you back down again. She never was patient.

Jackie took a hold of the hem of your underwear, pulling them down, she was going to ask you to move so she could take them fully off, but glanced at the almost feral expression that Shauna had and decided otherwise. If you were taken away from her at that moment the brunette would’ve most likely committed murder.

Jackie took in the sight of you and sighed, “God, you’re so fucking pretty”. The praise made your heart flutter and heat flood in between your legs, which were trembling from sheer desperation and adrenaline. You wanted badly to thank her, but your tongue was too preoccupied moving inside Shauna. It seemed you had found her sweet spot, as she began to squirm even more, her gasps and moans rising rapidly.

“Jesus, Shipman, you’re already close and I haven’t even stuck a finger inside of her yet. Don’t you want to cum together?.” Her words made you smile, it seemed like you really were good at getting them off, it made pride swell inside your chest. From now on, your biggest achievements weren’t going to be soccer championships, perfect test results, or all of that crap. They were going to be how fast you had made Shauna and her equally sexy best friend cum.

“Uh, fuck- “, the midfielder was about to retort something back but was cut off as you began to suck on her clit again, “I recall you didn’t l-last that long either, bitch.” Ah, she could deliver a good come back even in the midst of being given oral, your admiration for Shauna grew daily. The sting of the insult was mainly lost though this time as her voice shook, it was slightly shameful how something that felt like a bolt of electricity shot straight down to your core when you heard Shauna say the word “bitch” too.

Jackie seemed to notice your reaction, “Oh”, she laughed, a hand palming your now bare ass.

“What?”, the other grunted, breathing getting heavier as you took all the wetness she gave you.

“She seemed to like it when you called me a bitch”, the shorter girl said, soft fingertips trailing down to ever so gently brush against your slit.

“Of course she did, the little slut.” Shauna teased, she began to pinch her own nipples, rocking her hips upwards as you got her off with your tongue.

“Gosh, she’s pathetic”, Jackie breathed out, tone half fond and half in awe as her finger moved down and under to slowly circle your throbbing clit.

“Good with her mouth though”, the other replied. She had certainly found a great way to pass the time in the middle of nowhere. Shit, even if you guys were back in civilisation your tongue was certainly something Shauna would forgo a study session at yours for.

Your captain finally showed you mercy as she applied pressure directly onto your sensitive bud, moaning into Shauna’s pussy, you shifted so that by some luck her finger would be pushed into you.

“Want me inside?”, Jackie asked, begrudgingly moving her hand to tease you further, nearly as worked up as you were from all the teasing. Keyword: nearly, the lucky bitch had already came, she was already wet again though. Your captain knew you couldn’t reply, she was asking not for an answer, but to rile you up even further, she wanted to see you to beg for it.

“She’s been a good girl, Jackie, just fucking give her what she needs”, Shauna said, you knew she was only defending you because she was desperate to cum and right then only your tongue could get her there. If the brunette wasn’t so desperate, she’d definitely tease you along with her best friend.

There definitely was something stirring about her calling you a good girl though, since you were academic rivals as well as close friends, compliments from Shauna were scarce, the sappy side of her only coming out when she was drunk. You knew she loved you both, and knew that she cared, she just usually showed it in quieter, more subtle ways. Like driving you to and from school, picking up your favourite snacks, and always bringing an extra pen in case you needed to borrow it during the English class you shared together.

It seemed Jackie had agreed with the other girl’s statement as soon you could feel her index and middle finger enter you slowly. You moved back onto her steadily, she grabbed a hold of where your hands were tied together with Shauna’s flannel and used it to pull you onto her long fingers, controlling how fast or how slow the drag of them inside you was. “Shit, you’re so wet”, she whimpered.

Your tongue flicked against Shauna’s clit as Jackie let go of your tied wrists to play with yours. “You’re so good at eating me out baby”, the brunette praised, moving some of your hair out of your face, not wanting it to get in the way and bother you. The way she was caressing your face made you feel loved, it was a feeling that burrowed itself deep inside your chest. “I’m gonna cum”, the midfielder whimpered, basically riding your face now. You desperately needed to breathe but didn’t dare pull away - scared that you’d ruin her orgasm.

Plus who needed oxygen anyway? Your best friend’s pleasure was way more important than breathing.

Shauna came with a scream, her thighs keeping your head there as her cum flooded your mouth. God, even then you wanted more, it was scary to think you might never be sated no matter how many times she came. You eased up a little and licked her gently as she felt the aftershocks of her orgasm, moaning as the dark blonde girl’s fingers still worked inside you.

“Fuck”, Jackie groaned and to your disappointment, stopped moving her fingers, “that was like the hottest thing I’ve ever seen”. The other girl laughed, very much dazed and out of breath. You kissed Shauna a few times on her clit and inner thighs before deeming it okay to move your head away. You caught your breath as you rested your forehead against her thigh.

“You done so well baby”, the taller girl muttered, eyes closed as she ran a hand through your hair.

“Thank you”, you said, trying not to smile. You would’ve let the compliment override your brain completely, however your mind still was preoccupied with Jackie’s fingers that were still inside you.

“No, thank you”, Shauna’s voice was soft, “Babe, stop being so mean and let her cum - she deserves it”, she continued. The post orgasmic daze was making her softer, it seemed.

Jackie huffed fondly, taking the opportunity quickly to help you remove your underwear fully. They joined the pile of other clothes on the attic floor. “You’re going soft, Shipman. Of course she deserves to cum, but it’s fun to play with her”. With the words ‘play with her’, the striker began to move again and curled her fingers upwards deep inside you. You let out a strangled moan against Shauna’s thigh.

“There we go”, Jackie cooed, moving her other hand around so she could continue to play with your clit. It was as if she had done this before to someone else, as she knew exactly where to put pressure and where to just graze gently. The thought of either of them with anyone else made jealousy burn hot in your blood, pushing away the thought, you focused on what was happening now. Shauna observed a few moments longer before getting up so that she was sitting in front of you, holding you up, she kissed you soundly, groaning as she tasted herself on your tongue.

“You’ve wanted this for so long, haven’t you?” Shauna asked as Jackie put more pressure against your clit, rubbing small circles as the fingers of her other hand reached near your g spot.

You nodded, struggling to speak, a flurry of whimpers escaped your mouth as the sound of Jackie fingering you rang out across the room. The three of you knew the girls downstairs had definitely heard at least one of you by now, but you didn’t care, the only things on your mind were Jackie, who was now hitting your g spot, and Shauna, whose tongue you took into your mouth greedily. “God, you’ve always belonged to us”, Jackie spoke this time, her voice was unlike you had ever heard, it was as if something raw and primal was rising in her throat.

“Even before now as we’re fucking you”, she continued, every thrust of her fingers causing the familiar sensation in the bottom of your stomach to tighten. “I bet you’ve been waiting for us to do this, huh? Waiting around, following us everywhere like a lost little puppy, hoping we’d fucking notice you and just-“, she groaned as she felt you tighten around her fingers, “just fucking wreck you. We’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t we?” Her words made you melt into a puddle of desperation.

Shauna pulled away from your mouth, you could tell by the expression on her face that she absolutely loved the things her best friend was saying. “Shit, you’re right”, the brunette agreed, “I wanna know how many times you’ve touched yourself thinking of us baby, I wanna know when you do it.” She was practically whispering into your ear now, filthy words only you and Jackie could hear. “Every time after practice? When you see us in our soccer kits and just can’t help yourself? After we hang out or after our study sessions? I bet you’ve imagined me just swiping all the fucking flashcards off our desk and throwing you on there instead”.

Jackie laughed. “I wish that was on the biology curriculum, wanna let everyone know your ours”.

It seemed as if Shauna was working herself up again with the things she was saying: “I bet you’d love us to fuck you all in front of all of them downstairs, hmm? Let Tai and Lottie and the rest of them know you belong to us”.

At her words, and the mention of your teammates (who, despite your heart belonging to the two girls you were with, you were also desperately attracted to), you let out an obscene sound which could be only described as you losing whatever shred of self-respect you had left. Moving back and forth on Jackie’s fingers, you leaned forward and crushed Shauna’s mouth against your own, not only needing to feel her lips against your own and her tongue in your mouth. But to also get her to shut up because if she kept saying things like that, you’d either cum embarrassingly quickly or pass out and die.

Your efforts proved futile though as Jackie kept hitting places deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. “Are you close?”, she teased, knowing you were about to cum all over her hand. Whining against Shauna’s mouth, you tried to squeeze your thighs and keep her hand there, knowing what she was probably going to do next. Just as you reached the edge, you felt her pull out of you. Her laughter rang in your ears as you teared up with frustration.

“Fuck, Jackie, that was so mean”, Shauna’s words seemed angry, but she was laughing, secretly just as deliciously cruel as her best friend.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it was just too tempting,” she apologised to both you and Shauna, knowing how much you had wanted to cum, and also knowing how much Shauna had wanted to watch you cum. Mainly to you though, as she could definitely see how wet you were from her position kneeling on the floor behind you.

“Please”, you pleaded, “I need you inside me, Jackie.” She let out a sigh of affection, rubbing your back a little whilst she contemplated whether she was going to let you cum this time, or be even crueller and deny you for a second time.

“Fine, my sweet girl. You’ve got me going soft for you, so better appreciate it.” She entered you again, instantly pressing up against a spot she knew drove you wild. You rambled gratitude to her as she used the fingers of her other hand to flick your clit.

Shauna peppered kisses across your face, glad that her best friend had finally decided to show you some mercy. “You’re taking her fingers so well, my love”, the midfielder said, grasping your face gently with both hands. You seemed to melt under both of their touches, Jackie’s more so literally as wetness ran down your inner thighs.

You were close again already, struggling to not cry out so loud the entire wilderness could hear you. The girl in front of you helped muffle your desperate whimpers as she kissed you again on the mouth with so much fervour your teeth nearly knocked together.

“Back onto me, yeah, just like that”,  you could hear Jackie demand. “Cum for me, please, fucking cum all over my hand baby”, she was begging now.

The words sent you tumbling over the edge and your vision nearly went blurry as you came all over Jackie’s hand, your wetness running down her forearm. Shauna had to hold you gently to keep you steady, so you didn’t fall face-first onto the floor, she chuckled and kept kissing you to drown out your moans.

The striker ceased her ministrations on your clit, not wanting you to become oversensitive to the point of pain, instead fingering you slowly as you came down from your orgasm. “That’s it”, she gently guided you, running a hand up and down your back as Shauna kissed your forehead sweetly. A few moments were taken as you caught your breath, basically sandwiched between them.

When you seemed steady enough, Jackie pulled out of you and moved to untie your hands. You grunted as you stretched them behind your back in relief, trying not to grin as you realised that meant you could now pull her and Shauna closer to you. You, having grown a lot bolder, sat up and reached behind you, gesturing for Jackie to come and kiss you from behind.

She did as you had hoped, wrapping her arms around your waist she placed a kiss against your neck, kissing her way up to your cheek and then across to your mouth. Soon you could feel Shauna’s mouth on you too, kissing your cheek sweetly, Jackie pulled away so that the brunette could kiss your lips too.

“Well shit, that was fun.” Jackie laughed, Shauna moved from you and captured Jackie’s mouth with her own. They kissed with closed mouths for a minute or so before Shauna got impatient and opened her mouth so she could feel Jackie’s tongue against her own. The sight of them together made your heart swell, a pang of regret seized you that you didn’t get to see them make each other cum, but that was quickly soothed realising that tonight was about you. You’d get plenty of opportunities to see them together in the future.

“Sure was. What did you think baby? You enjoy that?”, Shauna asked you, you lowered your head, flushing.

They laughed, “Don’t act all shy now”, Jackie teased. You didn’t reply, fearing that if you opened your mouth, you’d say something incredibly cheesy.

“The girls are all probably asleep, we need to get some sleep too I think.” Shauna’s voice was gentle as she pulled away from you both and stood up, gathering all your discarded clothes as well as her red flannel that had been untied from your wrists. She took some time folding them neatly as you and Jackie sat as she held you.

You were secretly glad that they didn’t seem to be making a move to put anything on, you enjoyed the quiet intimacy of being naked around one another. Your confidence still wasn’t ideal, but they had just proved to you that they loved every part of you no matter what. You could tell Jackie felt the same way too, with the quiet way she had kept looking down at her body when she had first taken her clothes off. She acted confident but she was just like any other young woman.

It was relieving to believe someone when they told you they loved you, let alone two someones. That night when you, Jackie, and Shauna fell asleep in each other arms, not even the dread of tomorrow could creep into your chest, as it was already full of love and comfort and a warmth so unfamiliar it made you want to cry.

The next morning wasn’t much different than usual, except for the fact all of the girls couldn’t stop staring at you, when you would catch their eye, they’d look away quickly as if they were embarrassed.

Shit, they had definitely all heard you three.

a/n: welp, that's it for now goobers, tune in for part two (and possibly three ;))

[back2bluesidex]

To Be Popular - JJK [Chapter 2]

Pairing: Social Media Influencer! Jungkook X Marketing Manager! Reader ft. Yoongi

Summary:

You love everything about social media - apart from the ever-growing number of social media influencers. You don't understand how these people gain followers and admirers just by installing a camera and doing very basic things in front of it. And you despise how some of them can do anything to gain fame, to be popular - even if it includes uploading their bedroom scene in pornsites aka people like Jeon Jungkook. But when your company launches a new product and your department head tasks you with signing Jeon Jungkook up as an endorsement partner - you have no choice but to chase him like the corporate slave that you are. However, things turn worse when you embroil in a dating rumor with him and have to keep the game going for the sake of everything. is it really for the worse or things will turn in a way you never expected it to?  

Theme: Strangers to lovers au, fake dating au, kind of enemies to lover au, angst, smut, fluff.

Full Series Word Count: 26k

Chapter word count: 6.4k+

Warnings: flirting, argument, kissing that's all.

Masterlist | Patreon (For access to the complete series)

Minors, I am not responsible for what you consume online. So, act more rationally and stay away.

Chapter index: -

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |

Drabbles: Imposter in the club,

Or read the full series right away on Patreon!!

Only twice in your life did you have the need to sign contracts. 

First time was your employment contract, the second time was your house lease contract. 

The third contract turns out to be something that you didn’t even have the wildest dreams about - a dating contract. 

That too, with a person you seemingly get irked by very often. 

You have gone through the documents almost every day this past week, so much so that now you can recite the terms and conditions as fluently as your phone number. 

The contract is pretty standard if you are being honest. There is only one term that you added: “Kisses are not allowed”. And it seems like both Seokjin and Jungkook have no issues accepting your only term. 

However, your hands feel clammy all of a sudden when you are about to sign the papers. The thoughts of being under the limelight scares you. 

And being Jeon Jungkook’s girlfriend means a lot of limelight in social media. 

“You okay?” Kim Seokjin asks, perceiving your hesitation in signing the papers. 

“Yeah.. I am just.. You know… don’t know what to expect from all these.” you voice. 

Seokjin places an assuring hand on top of yours, with a little squeeze he says, “you can trust me, Y/N. I will do my best to keep your private life private. Jungkookie is not a bigshot anyway but yes I know there are risks of privacy breach, which will be my department to handle.” 

You feel an odd sense of relief injected by the man’s silver voice. 

But it seems like you spoke too soon because, “what’s up you two?” Jungkook appears from nowhere. He eyes the place where Seokjin has his hand on top of yours and narrows his eyes at you. 

“You are late.” Seokjin directs his authoritative voice towards Jungkook. Jungkook sits down on the chair beside him and starts chugging down water. His Adam's apple bobs like a sin. 

You distract yourself from the scene by signing the papers finally. 

“Now it’s your turn.” Seokjin extends the paper towards Jungkook, who without a second thought takes it and signs it. 

For a moment you wonder how he manages to stay disconnected from every worry? 

You are as much of a stranger as he is to you. But still, he didn’t hesitate to sign like you did. Maybe this is another reason why you dislike Jeon Jungkook? Because he gets to be care-free while you have to care for every single move you make. 

See for an instance - once you dared to pull an act of bravery and it landed you on a dating deal with Jeon Jungkook. 

How fucking funny!

Your fingers tap on your laptop keyboard as you open the email sent by Jungkook’s agency. It’s a full fledged schedule for your and Jungkook’s first month of appearance. 

And that starts tomorrow. 

As for tomorrow, you will have to visit a cozy cafe with your supposedly boyfriend and get caught by paparazzi. Once you become talk of the media then the company will go ahead and publish an official statement. 

Things will continue like this for five months. During the sixth month your appearances will slow down and at the beginning of the seventh month, the agency will confirm the break up. 

Sounds pretty clean. 

During these seven months Jungkook will be done with the endorsement deal with your company as well. Hence, there is no need of working with him afterwards, which is a pleasant news to be honest. 

So now that you are already in the mess, you should as well taste the water and see what it brings for you. 

“You sure will be okay with it? Do you want me to tag along and keep an eye?” Jimin’s concerned voice rings in your ear. 

You are so thankful that the universe gifted him to you in the form of a best friend. From high school till now, there was hardly a day when Jimin didn’t text you, asked what you were up to, let you know what he was doing. 

He is that one friend who never got away. 

“I will be fine. Don’t worry. Go and enjoy your time, do something fun.” you add. No matter how tempting his offer is, you don’t want him to ruin his Sunday to look after you while you are on a playdate. 

“But Y/N-” 

“Jimin, I will be fine! I will keep updating you, okay?” 

He sighs on the other side making you chuckle. “Okay. but do keep me updated.” 

“Yes. appa. Yes.” 

You check yourself once upon cutting the call.

Yeah, you look presentable. Hopefully paparazzies won’t have any issues with your sober dressing sense. 

Once again your head bobs in the direction from where Jungkook’s car should be emerging. But you find none. 

He is late. 

Great. Another reason to hate Jeon Jungkook. 

Just when you are about to pluck your phone out and throw a text towards him, you hear the rumbling sound of an engine. 

More specifically the sound of Jungkook’s bike. 

He comes to stop where you are standing under a bus stop shade and extends a helmet towards you. 

You are way too busy grasping that you miss the object being offered to you. 

“Do I have to ride this with you?” you point at his bike. 

“It’s called a bike. And yes, you are going to ride it with me.” Jungkook thrusts the helmet towards you again. 

“Thanks for letting me know what it is called. But are you sure I will be in functioning condition by the time we reach?” 

“Don’t worry, my dear girlfriend, I will take care of ya.” he gives you a cheesy grin. 

If something flips inside your chest, then it’s better to put off the subject and focus on the fake date ahead. 

So, you put on the helmet, hop on his bike, and place your hands on his shoulders. 

“Be careful, it's hot down there. Spread your legs a little more.” Jungkook warns. 

You know, it’s about the bike but the implications of his words sets your face on a battle of blush. 

Managing your gut and composure you reply with an affirmative sound. 

“Did you… cut your hair?” Now that Jungkook has stripped off his helmet and is sitting relaxed before you, you can see the difference in his hairstyle from what you saw yesterday. 

“Yeah. All by myself. I even live streamed it. How do I look?” You can see Jungkook’s face lighting up as soon as you mention his new hairstyle. 

“You look like a twelve year old. Cute.” and you are genuine with your words. He looks less mischievous and certainly not like someone who would fuck on camera.

The tip of his ears turn pink when he registers your compliment. 

Clearing his throat a little he says, “what should we order?” 

“A flat white for me. And that cheese cake, strawberry one.” you say, awkwardly peeking at the menu, which is currently under Jungkook’s scrutiny.   

You hear him chuckling and when you follow that sound, you find him staring down at you. His crinkled eyes, baby-like fringe, bunny-teeth on display and that beautiful smile makes him look like a completely different person. 

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you used to dislike. 

And that spreads something warm under your skin. You start smiling at him without noticing yourself. 

“Isn’t that Jeon Jungkook?” a second female voice comes from a little distance. 

“Oh my god. Yes. and who is he with? Isn’t he dating that bully girl? Doona or Dana?” 

“What? No. didn’t you see his viral videos from the club? That girl is his rumored girlfriend. They seemed to have a fight that night but I guess they are good now?” 

“Oh really?” 

Even though the spectators are trying to be discreet and silent with their gossip, they are anything but. 

When you look in their direction, your eyes lock with one of them. She quickly turns away and types something on her phone. 

Something reaches out for your hand that is placed on the table top. 

It’s Jungkook’s own hand. 

He wraps his big palm around yours and interlaces his fingers with yours. With a sickeningly sweet smile he says, “the act has started, we should jump into characters now.” 

You tighten your fingers around him and reply, “of course we should.” 

However, you are still unsure about where you will be after six months of this play. Will you be friends with Jeon Jungkook? Or will you end up being more?  

“But how did you let Kim Doona come between you two if you were seeing each other?” 

By the time you and Jungkook managed to come out of the cafe that day, it was already a mess. At least ten different people were trying to get your face properly, five others were trying to get a shot of your and Jungkook's intertwined hands and others were clicking pictures not-so-secretly. 

By the time you were home, your photos were all over Jungkook’s fandom’s insta profiles. 

And when the bomb (aka the official statement from the agency) dropped, your phone flooded with questions after questions.

You didn’t answer any. 

Nonetheless, the questions reappeared, this time directly, as soon as you stepped into your workplace on Monday. 

And this question in particular - it was the mostly asked one and you were ready for it. 

Your colleague nudges you again, “come on, tell me, why did you let him fuck the other girl if you were dating him?” 

“I wasn’t dating him back then.” you reply confidently, of course you had your own share of practice. “We used to be friends. But you know… friends with feelings. So yeah.. I was kinda pissed at him.” 

She makes an O shape with her mouth. 

“Is that why you lashed out on him during the meeting? I mean I heard that you…” she doesn’t end her sentence. 

These people really work less and gossip more. You nod. 

“Who confessed though? You or him? Oh- wait! Did you confess at the club? Is that why you two were seen fighting?” she throws her rapid-fire questions at you. 

But you are pleased. It worked out the way you wanted. You didn’t have to tell the story, she completed it all by herself. 

“Yup.” you popped the ‘P’ very enthusiastically. 

“Wow! You are living a fan-fiction, girl, a proper friends to lovers au.” she squeals in her seat, “mind if I post the story on my insta? I wanna use my colleague privilege card.” 

You think for a moment. If she spreads the story herself, it will be better for you. You won’t have to recite it all again and again. So you murmur a little “go ahead” and let her click a selfie with you. 

Your computer dings with a notification from Yoongi. He is asking you to come to his cabin. 

Great. Another round of interviews. 

“I just checked the campaign schedule. It’s efficient as always. Good job, Y/N.” Yoongi’s praise brings a smile to your lips.

You murmur a little thank you with a small smile playing on your lips. 

Every time Yoongi praises your work, your insides flip. But sometimes you wish for those praises to come as ‘you look good today’, ‘your dress looks nice’ and stuff like that. 

Even though that brings a sinking feeling temporarily, that doesn’t stay for long. 

“By the way..” it’s coming, it’s coming, “how did you and Jeon Jungkook end up together? As much as I can assume, you two met each other during the meeting for the first time.” 

This. This is not what you prepared yourself for. 

You didn’t think Yoongi would be too interested in knowing your relationship history, so you wouldn’t have to explain anything to him. But not only is he interested, he seems to be pretty observant of things as well. 

Now you can’t tell him the fake story you just told your colleague nor can you tell him that the entire thing is fake. 

So you clear your throat, “it just…. Happened.” 

“Just happened? You seemed to be pretty livid about his existence that day?” your cute manager gives you a lopsided smile. 

“But then you sent me behind him, to convince him or whatever. And things happened.” you turn your confidence up yet again. 

He quirks a brow at you, “things happened after that club incident, huh?” 

He is right. But not the way he is thinking himself to be right.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” you reply, as you collect the files with the details of the campaign and proceed to leave his cabin. 

“The photoshoot starts next week, don’t be lovey-dovey on the set.” he teases you on your way back. 

You only roll your eyes at the door. 

Second fake date is: hanging out at a bar after work. 

But you don’t drink on weekdays. 

So that lands you on a negotiation and the date is fixed on the Friday of the same week. 

You wait for Jungkook at the entrance of your work complex, a place where people would be able to see you getting on his bike very clearly. A strategy to make things public. 

But what comes to pick you up is not a bike but a car. 

A sleek black car that makes heads turn as it comes to stop in front of you. 

For a moment, you think the driver is mistaking you for someone else. 

But then the diver’s door opens and Jungkook comes out, wearing a black buttoned down with a pair of ripped jeans. 

Your eyes are now the size of saucers. 

You once gulp as you see Jungkook smiling brightly at you. 

“Hey baby. Sorry I’m late. Let’s go.” he says sweetly. And you wonder how good of an actor he is. 

“H-hi. It's okay. Yeah, let's go.” you reply in haste, trying to school your dumbfounded expression. 

You let him lead you inside the car with a hand on the small of you back. He lets every passerby see his face, under the street lights, as if he is very proud showing you off. 

Fake. It's fake. You remind yourself. 

“You know, you are a good actor.” you voice your thoughts once Jungkook settles inside the car, 

He chuckles, “yeah? Learned from Jin hyung. He used to be an acting major. Have been seeing him acting to be polite with his shareholders for all the years.” 

The fondness in his eyes at the mention of the other male is so clear. You can’t help but smile. You have perceived the same glow on Jin’s face too. 

“You two really adore each other, don’t you?” 

“Yeah. You can say that. I would be wandering around the streets of Busan if it wasn’t for him.” you hear the underlying darkness in his voice and decide to poke no further on this matter. 

“So, you are telling me that you made this story all by yourself? And this actually ended up making sense?” Jungkook is pointing at his phone, which has your colleague's insta post plastered on the screen. 

“I told you. I am good at my job. Moderating success stories is a part of our marketers’ job.” you shrug. Your shoulders are already a lot loose after a few drinks. 

Your head is on the cloud. 

You feel good. 

And Jungkook is being less cocky today, which is helping you relax even more. 

Jungkook hums, “Great. The act is going well so far.” 

Jungkook starts scrolling on his phone again, focusing on something very hard. After a moment of silence he says, “I won’t lie, we look good together.” 

There is a smug smile playing on his lips. 

You groan, “I thought you quit being cocky for this evening.” 

“Hey! I am not being cocky. Look at these photos.” he protests, poking his phone towards you. 

“I have seen those, Jungkook. And I don’t think I look good with you. You and I are totally two different individuals, from every single aspect. You match with someone like.. Like Kim Doona.” 

Jungkook’s eyes shut for a second, “there is no point of saying this now. I missed my shot with her because someone decided to barge in my perfectly comfortable and peaceful life.” 

“Wait. You had a thing for her?” you sit up straight on your chair. 

“I still do.” Jungkook empties his glass in a sip. 

You would have fought him and told him how you saved from a prolonged controversy, but you are feeling light-headed. You are feeling good. So you will be nice for just once. 

“Well… I am sorry then. I know how it feels to have an unrequited crush.” you sigh, recalling Yoongi’s pretty face, “sorry.” 

Jungkook seems to be caught off-guard with your changed demeanor. 

“It’s okay.” he adds, “you have a crush on that manager, don’t you?” 

The fuck? 

“How the fuck do you know this now?” your eyes go big for the second time today. 

“Come on, Y/N. Anyone with eyes can tell. The way you stiffed when he caught you and me at the parking lot.” he giggles. 

“Ok. That's enough. Let’s go home. I feel sleepy.” you stand abruptly from your chair, swaying a little (thanks to the alcohol in your bloodstream). 

Jungkook stands up too, wraps a hand around your bicep and mutters a small ‘careful’ in your ear.

“By the way… don’t you think you have to call a designated driver?” you ask on the way out of the bar. 

“Jin hyung has us covered.” he shrugs. 

On the way back home you look at the fleeting landscapes out of the car window. For some unknown reason… you feel upset. 

You had a pretty good evening. No matter how much you hate to admit it, Jungkook is a fun company. 

You two would bicker endlessly, then would slip into serious topics like economy and politics, and then all of a sudden you would talk about your favorite drinks. 

He really doesn’t seem like that Jungkook you used to dislike. 

But there is something that’s bothering you. And you can’t put a finger at it. 

The car comes to a stop in front of your apartment. You wave a quick goodbye to Jungkook, who has been busy on his phone all the way back, and climb out of the car. 

As you take small swaying steps towards your entrance, you hear the car door shutting loudly and then in turn Jungkook’s voice, “won’t you give me a goodnight kiss, girlfriend?”  

You don’t know what possessed you. It can be the alcohol, can be your bad judgment, can be the sinking feeling in your chest and the desperate need of feeling something, anything - that makes you turn around. 

You march towards Jungkook without thinking twice, standing chest to chest with him. 

All the mischief drains from his face when you grab him by the collar of his shirt and smash your lips on his. 

It should have been over in a second or two. 

But what's worse is that Jungkook is pulling you close by your waist and deepening the kiss already. 

Hope you don’t regret this when you are sober. 

There were twelve terms in your dating contract. 

You added one. 

And you breached that very one. 

The screen of your phone goes blank as you groan again for the nth time. Every time you open Instagram, all you see is you kissing Jungkook standing on the damn fucking road! 

You two were being followed by the paps that night, which was obviously a part of the plan, and you, being clearly too drunk to think straight, kissed Jeon Jungkook on his lips! 

And now those photos are circulating like wildfire. 

Jimin texted you, asking for a clarification. 

Seokjin texted with three teasing thumbs up. 

And Jungkook texted with probably a thousand of ‘ㅋ’s. 

All you want now is for the ground to split in half so that you can jump in there and die. That’s the best possible solution for whatever the fuck is going on in your pathetic excuse of a life. 

Your phone dings with another notification and you swear to turn it off if it’s another mention in another insta post or another threatening DM from Jungkook’s crazy fans. 

But it seems like the universe is trying to be even more cruel with you, because it’s a reminder of your schedule for the day - which is another date day with the root of your problems - Jeon Jungkook. 

And today, you will have to spend time at his home, click pretty selfies and photos together highlighting how domestic you two are and post those in social media from both ends. 

When you are about to go back groaning, you receive another notification. 

It’s a text from Seokjin, “the car will be there in an hour.” 

“Welcome to my home, girlfriend.” Jungkook grins stupidly as he spots you at his door. You really want to grab a frying pan and bang it on his stupidly round head. 

“Don’t call me that when there’s no one to hear.” you reply grumpily walking inside Jungkook’s luxurious apartment. 

You really want to know how much these influencers make monthly to afford an apartment like this. 

“I call you that for you to hear, baby.” His cheesy remarks are just too much to take, so you just roll your eyes at him. 

“Do you want anything? Tea? Coffee? Juice? Or maybe a kiss?” there he goes. 

This is what you were dreading! The moment you were sober enough to judge your actions, you knew Jungkook will be having a field day the moment he sees you. 

And here you go. 

But but but - you aren’t alone in this. You definitely kissed him first but he, too, kissed you back. So he needs to go down with you. 

“Oh why not, you definitely liked kissing me a little too much.” you bite back. But your words don't affect Jungkook at all. The smirk that he was sporting doesn’t go anywhere. It only grows more sinister. 

“Of course I did. Are you telling me you didn’t?” 

Now this is another thing that you were dreading to admit - that you actually enjoyed kissing him. His lips felt good on yours. 

But you have been trying to convince yourself that it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your veins, even though you know it’s nothing but an excuse. 

“Shut up!” you huff, hoping that Jungkook doesn’t notice the sudden rush of red on your cheeks, “let’s take some photos so that I can leave.” 

“What?” Jungkook is now genuinely confused and you can see it on his face, “Do you really want to leave? I thought we were cooking together? I decided to live stream it.” 

“Me and live stream? Are you kidding? There was no mention as such on the schedule plan?” you are sure all the colors of your face have drained with just one mention of a live stream. 

You hate being the center of attention. 

“Yeah but I improvised just as you did last day by kissing me.” Jungkook shrugs. 

Where the fuck is the frying pan? 

“Okay. I am leaving. Bye.” you haste towards the door. 

Jungkook giggles like a baby, grabbing your wrist and stopping you mid-tracks. 

“Okay okay. I am sorry. I promise not to tease you anymore if you say yes to the live stream.” 

“You promise?” you quirk an eyebrow facing him. 

“I promise.” 

You don’t even know if saying yes to Jungkook’s improvisation was a good idea or a bad one. 

There are reasons it’s both good and bad. 

Good because Jungkook is not teasing or unnecessarily being smug with you anymore. Bad because he is hovering way too close to your body for you to keep being sane. 

The kitchen is big enough, but half of the space is being used to put down cameras and a laptop. On top of that you two have to be crammed in a small space where both of your figures are being perfectly visible to the viewers. 

You are mostly quiet, playing your part, cooking as you are supposed to. 

But Jungkook is in his element. 

He is so natural in front of the cameras that it feels as if he was born to do so. 

Jungkook interacts with the viewers, reads their comments once in a while, smiles, laughs, and makes jokes. Under the light and darkness of the kitchen - he looks so youthful, so radiant that you feel a weird coil in your chest. 

Whenever he brushes past you, you get a whip of his perfume - an earthy, woody tone with a hint of citrus. 

His hair falls on his eyes - unmade - unlike all the other times you have seen him. 

This - whatever this is - you don’t like it. 

“Why is your girlfriend being so silent?” Jungkook reads a comment from the laptop. You pay half mind to him, occasionally smile a little. 

But within a moment, Jungkook slides behind you. 

He puts his big-ass hands on your waist, places his face on your shoulder and says, “baby, why are you being so silent?” 

If you are seeing things right then his lower lip juts out while he tries to coax an answer out of you. 

Your heart starts beating abnormally fast. 

“O-oh.. I- It’s my first time being in a live stream… so yeah.” you proceed to flip the omelet, focusing on the food and food only. 

“You guys heard that? She’s nervous. Don’t scare my girl away.” Jungkook fakes anger. 

You release the breath you were holding when he finally removes himself from you. 

You are now seriously afraid of the outcome of this fake dating contract of yours. 

“Hate to say this but” you take in a deep deep breath “this is actually very delicious. Good job." You point your chopsticks at the carbonara that Jungkook prepared. 

“Really?” he seems to be taken aback with your compliment “Thanks. Glad that you like it.” 

“By the way, you remember you have a shoot with us tomorrow, right?” you change the topic to a more serious one. 

“I do. Will your crush slash manager be there too?” his eyes stay boring in the carbonara. You honestly don’t know why Jungkook is curious about Yoongi all of a sudden. 

“Probably. Why though?” 

“Will try not to piss him off while acting.” he shrugs. 

You scoff at that “he won’t be pissed. He doesn’t reciprocate, you know.” 

“Are you sad about that?” Jungkook’s tone is a tad bit softer now. 

“Not really. It’s not that I am in love with him or something. It’s a stupid crush, and will go away with time.” 

“Have you ever tried asking him out?” 

“Not really.” 

“Then, have you ever asked him to hook up with you?” 

You choke on your omelet. 

“What- the fuck” you cough “no! Why would I ask him something like that?” 

“Why won’t you though? Don’t you want to have sex with him? I mean you like him, it’s only natural.” Jungkook explains matter-of-factly. 

“No. it’s not natural for me. I need to be at least friends with a person to have sex. And I am not friends with Yoongi. We barely even talk out of work.” 

“Oh.” Jungkook thinks for a moment “So that guy friend of yours - what was his name again… Jimin? Is he your…” 

“Oh my god, Jungkook! No! I am not currently sleeping with anyone. I have not had sex for like eighteen months.”  It's your frustration which is speaking now. 

“What? Wait! What are you? A nun?” Jungkook’s eyes go wide at your admission. 

Embarrassment eats you away, like you were eating the carbonara a few minutes ago, “I- I mean. I am not that horny.” 

“Then… Do you want to sleep with me?” 

At first you think you misheard it. So you stare at Jungkook with big eyes. 

His expression is rather serious and you hate how it affects you. 

“What did you just say?” you finally let your voice be heard. 

“You heard me.” 

“Jungkook, please stop kidding. This is not funny.”

“I am serious.” he sighs. 

“Look. I can’t go around and sleep for fun since we have an act going on here. You, too, seem like you need to blow off some steam. And honestly, tell me where is your benefit from all these? It’s your company that’s ripping the fruit, not you.” 

Jungkook’s words register in your brain. He makes perfect sense. You have no benefits whatsoever from all these. 

“It’s just an offer, you can decline it if you want but… we can- we can have some fun like adults. No one has to know, nothing will get fucked up since we are not even close to begin with.” Jungkook reasons. 

He is right. You have nothing to lose if things go down and this won’t be the first time having casual sex with someone you know. There is absolutely no risk, no feelings on the line. 

Should you really consider the idea? 

The scenes from that grainy video start clouding your brain. 

A tiny voice in your mind says, “why not?” 

“Then… Do you want to sleep with me?”

“It’s just an offer, you can decline it if you want but… we can- we can have some fun like adults. No one has to know, nothing will get fucked up since we are not even close to begin with.”

Jungkook’s words go round and round in your head. Things have been like that for the better part of the time following your departure from his apartment.

You don’t even know why are you thinking so much, you should have just bad-mouthed him, tell him to fuck off and go fuck himself but something has kept you from doing so. 

He was suggesting something genuinely and there was a point in his proposition. And above every logical expression - it’s true that you are touch-starved. It’s been way too long with you and your dildo only. You need a living object inside of you now. 

Also, Jeon Jungkook is just so hot and he fucks well - that much you know from that unsolicited video. So yeah… you could probably accept his proposal. 

The only thing that is keeping you from doing so is your heart. You don’t know what will you be left off with after you are done fucking with for five to six months. Getting attached to people easily is one of your biggest weaknesses. 

And getting attached to your fuck-buddies, that too to someone like Jungkook, won’t be too glorifying of a thing to do. 

A hand comes and sits on your shoulder blade, scaring you off of your own skin. 

You almost hit the intruder with your laptop. 

“Calm down, it’s just me.” Yoongi comes to your view. 

“Fuck! You scared me!” you finally calm down, put your laptop on the table as it was before. 

“Well it’s not my fault. My shoes were pretty loud against the floor you know? You were too lost in your head that you didn’t even hear me coming. What’s up?” He comes to sit down beside you - way too close to you. 

In other times you would start blushing right away but for some reasons, you don’t. 

And honestly you don’t even want to find out the reasons. 

“Nothing. Just rechecking the schedule and all.” you murmur, forcing your attention on the laptop screen. 

Yoongi hums, “Your boyfriend will come in time, right? Hope he is not one of those snobbish celebrity types.” 

Your boyfriend … The mention stirs something inside your heart. 

“He tends to get late but he is not snobbish.” you defend Jungkook and your actions shocks even you. 

“Oooohhhhh” Yoongi makes an amused noise “love really changes people, huh?” 

You don’t reply to him- everything is fake anyway. 

“There is a rumor going around that you two were acquaintances before? But you told me a completely different story. May I know what’s actually going on?” 

You sigh. You knew this was coming. And you prepared your answer. 

“Well, what I told you was right. But his agency urged me to make up those stories for, you know, reasons. So yeah that’s it. And I will trust you with this secret.” narrowing your eyes on him for the last part of the sentence, you emphasize your point. 

“Okay okay.” he heaves a laugh out of his chest. 

“But why is Min Yoongi suddenly so interested in my love story?” you are genuinely curious about his curiosity. He never pays any mind to any office gossip but now that it’s your turn he seems to be interested in every little detail. 

“Maybe I have reasons you don’t know?” he shrugs. 

When his words register in your mind your eyes widen. 

“W-what reasons Yoongi?” you finally voice seeing him getting up from the chair and heading towards the exit. 

“That’s useless now. Maybe I will tell you sometime in future, maybe I will never let you know.” his voice trails and then morphes into air as he leaves the room. 

Something sits in your chest uncomfortably. Is he hinting at something you wanted all along? Was this fake dating a mistake? Did it cost you something real? 

A migraine forms just before the shoot. 

“Annyoenghaseyo.” Jungkook greets the entire crew sweetly as he stands at the entrance of the studio. There are two other men with you, who are holding big bags, probably full of snacks and drinks. 

“I have brought some snacks for everyone. Since the shoot is going to take long, I hope you all have something to munch on. Also, hope you forgive me each time I make a mistake.” he flashes his bunny smile as he bows and gestures to his men to distribute the snacks. 

You can hear the crew oohing ahhing for his sweetness. You only roll your eyes - only if they know how big of an asshole he is.   

“Darling.” He comes close to you and stands before you, measures your expressions before enveloping you in a hug. 

Another round of oohhs and aahhs echoes in the studio. 

You fake the hug too. 

But obviously your body had to act weird around him. Your nipples pebble as his chest comes in contact with yours. 

You silently thank the pads of your bra. 

“Do I get an answer today?” he murmurs in your ear. His hot breath grazes your earlobes, erupting goosebumps all over your body. 

You clear your throat before pulling yourself out of his embrace.  

“Let’s get into work.” 

One credit you will give Jeon Jungkook is that he knows how to work. He is professional - nothing like what you expect from typical influencers. 

He reads the scripts attentively, takes suggestions from the PD-nim and the director, gives his input and doesn’t do re-takes after retakes. 

He makes things go smooth and easy and the shoot leads towards a culmination within the five hour mark. 

You need to update Yoongi about the shoot’s progress - so you take out your phone but just then, Yoongi walks in with another human being attached to his side. 

It’s Im Semi, Yoongi’s rumored girlfriend, also the heir of the company you work for. 

For most of the time you don’t pay any mind to her existence - that’s simply something having nothing to do with your business. 

But at times like this when she is attached to the man’s side, you supposedly have a crush on, you can’t quite ignore. 

Yoongi marches towards you, with that damned smile on his face. You force back a smile. 

Your mind reels back to Yoongi’s confusing words earlier. You must have made a mistake in analyzing. What a fool you are. 

“How’s everything going?” he questions. 

“Very well. Jungkook is doing a great job. In fact we are done with the shoot, they are only reviewing the shots now. As soon as that’s done, we can’t pack up for the day.” you keep your tone professional. 

“That’s great.” Yoongi chimes in, “You can clock out after this. Good job, Y/N.” 

“Thanks. Are you clocking out too?” you ask, eyeing Semi, who is busy staring at her phone. 

“Nah. I got a meeting.” Yoongi informs, “Gotta go back to the building. I can drop you on the nearest subway, if you want.” 

Semi’s head springs up as he regards Yoongi for a moment and then looks at you with a fake forced smile. 

You know she doesn’t like the idea. 

“It’s o-”

“Don’t worry, I will drop her.” Jungkook appears from nowhere and cuts you off. 

For the first time ever, you are actually grateful to him. 

“Ah yeah. He will drop me.” you shrug. 

“Cool. Should we go now, yoongi?” Semi speaks breaking the thin layer of tension that settled on the air. 

“Yeah. I guess. Bye. See you tomorrow.” Yoongi leaves you and Jungkook behind. 

“You okay?” Jungkook enquiries, once Yoongi is out of earshot. 

“Yeah, Fine. Are you done? Let’s go.” 

“So… I have thought about your proposal and it.. Doesn’t sound too bad.” Your eyes are downward, because if you are honest, then you are extremely coy right now and you don’t want Jungkook to witness that. 

You mulled for the entire ride back home. You thought and thought about what to say, how to say it. 

Now that Jungkook is standing before your apartment entrance, you took a chance of making it short. 

“Fuck really?” Jungkook sounds so shocked as if he didn’t expect you to say yes, “didn’t think you would accept it for real. But I am glad that you did.” 

You finally risk a glance at him. He is smiling. Your heart flips. You hate it. 

“So ah..” your ears must be red by now “do you- do you wanna come in?” you place your invitation. 

Jungkook’s smile vanishes. His face takes up a much darker expression. You know what it is. 

“I’d love to.” His voice dips an octave lower than the usual tone. 

 Now you gotta pray that you don’t regret this decision of yours. 

read the full series right away on Patreon!! (Start from part 8)

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[rei-ismyname]

Cyclops, Masculinity, and the Hellfire Club

After Jean walks in on Emma's 'therapy session' with Scott, the two women have a long discussion in which he is not welcome. Scott deals with his feelings by getting drunk by himself at the Hellfire Club. People just will not leave him alone though, starting with this unnamed psychic dancer. She's presumably doing her job under the assumption that this is what men are here for. It's a normative and reasonable assumption, but Scott is pointedly uninterested in participating in this marker of masculinity.

The dancer's words remind us of Emma - telepathy, seduction, and a call to let loose - though there's markers of Jean there too, the wife he hasn't been able to communicate with. He rejects the whole thing as 'sexless and unarousing' instead of a 'no thanks, I'm not in the mood' or similar. Instead of rejecting Emma by proxy, my read is that he's rejecting the physicality of it, compared to the mind sex that's been going on. Also, Scott does a lot of 'calling the shots' - too much even. Exercising sexual, gendered power doesn't appeal to him.

This is nothing Scott hasn't been told before. I'm reminded of the butte sex incident specifically, where Phoenix urged him to 'get out of [his] head' so they could have sex. The dynamic and the power differential made the traditional gender roles hazy.

I think Scott agrees with the dancer here in some ways. He's been viewed as uptight his whole life and there's so many instances where Scott isn't the instigator of sex and intimacy. Here in the Hellfire Club with their regency cosplay the gender roles are super patriarchal. Scott rejects or tries to escape the expectations of traditional gender roles and the art reflects that - shifting from the male gaze to Scott's famous gaze. Interestingly we never see the dancer's face so we don't know who she's presenting as. It's Jean who has the significant association with black lingerie and red hair but it's Emma who's associated with BDSM.

Scott gives an awkward apology and explanation, doing his best to strip the illusions away. I can't help but feel like he's trying to convince himself that his complicated feelings for Emma aren't real but he's not doing a very good job. Why did he even come to the Hellfire Club? There's plenty of places to get drunk without running into people he knows or people that know him. He's wearing his X-Men jacket and his unique visor, not exactly incognito.

He completely avoids eye contact with the dancer and everything is tinted red, suggesting we're seeing everything through his POV. His gaze has a long association with angst and self doubt - I have to wonder how well he 'sees' the person he's making assumptions about. He's not exactly denying her personhood, but he's not especially interested in it either. It's ironic that he'd go to the one club that has a intimacy-free version of both his significant relationships with women at this point. One thing's for sure, he's not interested in performing masculinity, but he's in a space where he can't escape the expectation.

The faceless, nameless dancer eventually leaves. Scott's brief solitude is interrupted by a particular kind of toxic masculinity turned up to 11 - Sabertooth. He approaches from a dominant position in the ancient greek sense, from behind - while pointedly calling Scott 'boy.' He ignores this, and Sabertooth gets in really close to smell his drink, describing it as 'gay.' Deeply childish, but explicitly challenging Scott's masculinity. Creed accuses Scott of 'having issues' in a pretty egregious pot/kettle situation.

Scott responds, but simply by telling him to get out of his face. 'Seriously.' Creed switches to that other marker of masculinity - violence, or at least threats of it. Scott ignores that too, rejecting chest beating and puerile verbal sparring. Sebastian Shaw intervenes and orders Creed to leave Scott alone. Shaw has his own thoughts on exercising patriarchal power, but leaves when Scott isn't interested.

Scott is about to leave because 'his pride can't take it anymore.' He doesn't elaborate on this because he's accosted by probably the most prominent uber masculine person in his life - Logan. Logan accuses Scott of 'making the X-Men look like losers' and it's hard to read this as anything but a gendered challenge. He expands on Creed's judgment of Scott's choice of beverage by implying it's not 'real' (ly masculine) - slamming a bottle of Jack Daniels on the table. Scott's not interested in that either.

Logan doesn't really give Scott a choice, framing it in the context of a challenge. Denying that he's here to convince him to return to the X-Men, he tells Scott that Emma was murdered after he left. Leaving him to chew on that, Logan lays out the stakes of the challenge and departs for the urinal - that most bioessentialist of masculine spaces.

Making the subtext text, Creed follows him in for some insecure dick measuring. Rejecting any kind of serious discussion with an uncharacteristically cerebral Sabertooth, Logan issues violent threats and returns to Scott. It's got massive ex vibes in the best Creed/Logan homoerotic manchild way.

Scott finally opens up, discussing his relationship woes with Logan of all people. He shares how each of them makes him feel, explicitly tying the tension to the boy/man dichotomy. The 'pressure' and 'expectations' feel significant, something he should really talk to Jean about. Unfortunately he's got Logan instead, who's not especially interested in listening at all. He chimes in about Jean, of course, but he's here for tough love.

Scott ponders how anyone could think he'd shoot Emma. Above all he's not going back to the mansion and he's not drunk (or so he claims.) Logan, asshole that he is, suggests Scott should be grateful for what he has. 'You always get the best girls' which has got to be the worst possible thing to say (and super gross). Sure, he's having relationship troubles, but he's trying to figure out his emotions and his trauma. Logan frames this as 'all you do is whine' which is both not true and very rich coming from him.

I've never identified with Scott more than when he says 'I hate you.' Logan manages to make it all about himself, explicitly stating his jealousy. 'All I ever wanted was what you got' accusing him of throwing 'it all away to run wild with the White Queen.' He's right that Jean would like it if he came out of his shell, to a degree, but their problem is one of trauma and communication. Logan's possessive, reductive, and frankly ignorant diagnosis misses the forest for the trees. Scott's problems aren't his problems yet he gets the kind of advice one might expect from this hypermasculine space.

Further minimising Scott's issues, Logan shifts the conversation focus entirely to him. He outright says that Scott's problems are nothing compared to his and guilts him into helping assault The World to uncover Logan's past. He probably would have said yes if he just asked as a friend, but instead he kidnaps him when he passes out. Logan says he's 'trying hard' but doesn't finish the sentence before urging him to put aside his problems.

So instead of talking with his wife or getting to brood alone, Scott ends up hungover on a black ops mission. He got to verbalise some things he'd been keeping bottled up, but in a sense he was assaulted by masculinity and toxic expectations at every turn. Dude needs better friends. The narrative doesn't portray this as a positive thing - in fact it's pretty messed up. I wonder if he regrets going to the Hellfire Club.

Despite the superhero context, Grant Morrison does a swell job of portraying an AMAB person withdrawing from masculine-coded spaces and expectations, at least in my experience. Especially when you're friends with people like Logan, whose only mode is toxic hypermasculinity. I think if he was framed as being unequivocally right it'd be overpowering. Morrison's issues with writing women are on display, but overall this issue is powerful, especially for the time.

[valleymyristica]

People that make me happy ᵔᵜᵔ

Also, happy 3 month anniversary of What it takes!

There are so many people around And I find myself wanting to share my glee

So I want to give a thank you to all who make me happy And I also want to wish whoever is reading this a lovely day For I'm sure there is always someone who finds glee in your existence

For me, these are the lovely ones that gives me a smile whenever I see them about. Just knowing they are there is enough ᵔᵜᵔ

@waitineedaname

For being a wonderful person One I'm always happy to see doing well We may not talk as much, because I'm so slow But you still make me happy, wherever you go

So I want to wish you the best in this new year! [And thank you for being the beta reader for the HLVRAI fic I've yet to post] [If I ever will, really should though...] [Man, it's so old now]⠀

@cubbiverse

Thank you for being the reason I started What it takes! Without you, it wouldn't exist

Talking to you is always a blast You're always so fun! Your ideas are such a driving force for me

Really bringing me glee whenever I see you You're lovely, you're great I hope the year to come will treat you well! I wish you a happy new year!

Also! Can't forget! Your art is always so nice to see It's always so bubbly, bouncy, pretty and soft! Such lovely fun you bring With every single thing!

Oh, I really do like all the things that you do! You make me so happy too!!!

@shrimpyjackal

Art so pretty, always so kind So very sweet, with a lovely mind

Your colours, they pop! So pretty to the eye Like the setting sun An array of colours in the sky

Like a cold dessert After a desert walk Your art really does have a special spark! Like fireworks that boom, with colours and light! I hope that the year to come, will be lovely and bright!

I wish, it will be lovely and bright! And who knows, maybe wishes do come true?

@astrolotte

Things come Things go

But you are one I'm happy to know!

You're always so positive, so very sweet Just so lovely and unique!

It delights me when you read But I wish you well all the same

For I hope this year brings you joy As we play along with it's game Even as rules change

For change can be good Though, wouldn't want it to leave you on the run

And some things are sweet Though, being trapped is no fun

And have to also tell that your art is like a present on Christmas day Truly something to look forward to in every way!

@arandom-dog [AO3]

My beta reader My wonderful beta reader

AHHHHHHH!!! YOU'RE GREAT!

I'm so happy I have you! You're so helpful and kind! I always like to talk and hear what's on your mind!

AHHHHHH!!!! I still can't stop looking that the comic you made! Along with all the other lovely things you've made Gosh, Bunny is so CUTE! AHHHH!!! It's so pretty! So cool!

I'm so happy you made it And I'm so glad you had fun when you did!

Gosh, What it takes really has taken hold of my life

@unconsciousnonhuman

Thank you for creating the lovely [angst server]! It would be a delight if there was more time to spend

For hearing what's on your mind Is always a highlight before reaching the days end!

So morbid and fun! Oh! You are such a lovely one!

I'm happy you exist! So happy you are here! Really bringing joy by simply being you Do hope I can give you joy too!

Honestly, I think my new years resolution will be to read all of Para. Peri and leave my comment at every chapter.

I will get it done. I hope

@poggieking03

My delightful little fan I'm so happy I have you Really bringing me glee, and questions too!

It's always so fun to see your reactions To hear what you think heh Especially when the characters are on their brink!

I do hope that life is treating you well and that you are feeling swell!

For deserve kindness for all the things you've given me You make me so happy and fill me with glee!

@nightjasmine10

I really do delight in all you send my way Every comment, whatever it may, really does bring a smile to my day!

Honestly, it's so nice that you like talking to me, and it's nice talking to you in turn. You're always so sweet and willing to engage!

You seem so passionate about writing It's so cool! It's always nice to see you around!

Thank you for being as lovely as you are!

@freesso

Pretty, soft and expressive art So very cute So very sweet So very lovely and unique

A lovely person So nice and kind With art that always bring a smile to mind

Hope your days are joyous and sweet For you’re a lovely person One I'm happy I got to meet!

@midnightdemonz

Yay! Our fairy meat fanatic and one with a powerful Peri AU!

You're such a fun one and always a delight to talk too

Really should work more on fairy meat, we got so much to work with, still... what it takes is also important. Though, sparing some time for some meat shouldn't hurt, right?

As for the wonder you are? You're bright and fun, like a lucky star! Always so fun to talk to you

Hope your days are as great as you are! For you are indeed great!

@nova-in-space

Honestly, I may not be a part of it But seeing all the Peri's interacting is so fun!

From what I've read of Ghost Town so far It's very interesting! Desolate, dreary, eery What could have caused such disarray? Oh, is there anyone that would dare to say?

Also, I still remember the drawing you made based on What it takes I will forever cherish such lovely things Every spec of gold is still gold And it really does delight me that you took the mind and time to do it

It really made me happy, and remembering it really does bring a smile

Thank you so much!

You're a fun delightful person And I do delight in the ideas you present in your work

Like miasma filling their lungs Poisoning their bodies Breaking their minds And all which connects

It's interesting It's fun

@vhs-consumer

It's weird, I don't talk to you But you do seem like a person I'd like You seem like a really fun and cool person

hehehe You even know about 'fairy meat' Which is fun ᵔᵜᵔ⠀⠀

So, I do hope that the year to come will be a fun one With lovely food and fun people!

Also, have to compliment your art Because it's really nice It's like ice preserving the beauty of the world It's like a an array of needles you can softly pet It's like a shiver of cold as you sit so warm with a cup of hot chocolate

It's sharp and nice Both cool and warm And really something one likes to look upon

@elsa-fogen

Thank you for also being a lovely morbid delight!

It's fun talking to you from time to time and I do hope that this year will be a lovely one for you!

I do delight in all the AUs you do have And it's so fun to see your version of Icy She's so cool! hehehe Cool and cold Pun for fun

I like a sweet one who sees no wrong in the horrors It's simply how things are How they should be

Why would you want to leave? We're just getting to the fun part!

Also have to tell, I do like your art as well! It's so fun, the way you create, It's as if all fit together as pieces to a puzzle Every little line has a place to be

Everyone seems so full of life It's just connected so nicely And you're really funny too Your jokes are great!

@illustrationismyhaven ( @doodle17 )

You're a fun one, and happy late birthday!

I think you're the reason I decided to play Psychonauts Which is something I am so very happy and thankful for, it and it's sequel are such great games! I'm so happy I got to experience them, thank you!

In addition, I really like your lobotomy family au It's such a cute little idea!

Well, you seem to have many fun ideas So I guess that's kinda a given

Apart from such, you're a delight too see Your art is always so striking and lovely! So fluid, like a stream of water in winter Like green leafs in the summer rain So pretty, colourful and bright

You really do give off a lovely light!

@todaytomorrowgiraff

I doubt you know of my existence, but I do want to tell I appreciate you!

It delights me to see a little HLVRAI on my dash Gives it all a little extra pizzazz!

I remember finding you thanks to your wonderful fic, Becoming Human. It's been a moment since I've read it last, but I do recall delighting in it so. In a way, I guess it's inspiration, it's such a lovely one and you seem like such a wonderful person!

@bunnieswithknives

Gosh do I like the things that you do So of course you make me happy too!

Your art is so modular Like pipes connected so cleanly together Like ball-jointed dolls that you simply move

It's so very cool! And it all creates such a funky grove!

In addition, your ideas, the thoughts in your mind How you play with ideas You're funny and smart

What you make is truly a work of art!

That is to say, I like what you create! Always so fun to see what you'll present next!

Also, sorry for the time that I messed with your head Hope you're doing better, and you're happy instead!⠀

@kisskisstine

Like a story book with tales to be told Your art is so lovely to behold

A blooming star, so pretty and bright Yet so lonely when she shines her light

And he who thought himself bright and strong Is bound to have a stark realization when he finds, he is wrong

Your art is soft and kind Very fitting for you

For you seem like a lovely person too! Wishing you the best in all that you do!

Bright soft skies Sun so high Hope the smiles that you give Are given in turn For you deserve bright joys! Is one thing I've learned

Giving kindness to the kind Giving joy to the joyous Giving, sharing and wishing the best

So many sweet things You deserve them too!

@wreckrinho

You art is like cookies So scrumptious and good!

Like rivers Like streams Like something forgotten in dreams

So cool and fun So very you

And it makes me happy to see When you enjoy what you do!

Hope you're well And life is treating you with kindness

Horror may come to those in the stories one tell But that doesn't mean it should come to you as well

You're a fun delight Sweet little starlight Deserving fun

Enjoy the things you do I enjoy them too

Share what you like That's when you shine the most bright!

@artificial-angels

Your art, so pretty Like clouds on a soft summer day Like flowers that bloom Like sweet cotton candy dreams

Pastel paradise parade So soft and sweet It really is a delightful treat

@nilsford-prattle

Long forgotten In sand we lay But still we always hope that you are doing okay

Bright and fun Sweet and kind Hope you have peace of mind

Hope there is joy in the things that you do And that you always have a reason to be happy too

@purplecatghostposts

Hope there is joy to your days Your interests are ones we enjoy to see

Your writing a lovely delight Your shimmer a happy joy

So many things anew Yet though old they may seem For you bring it to life Like it's been awoken from a dream

Thank you for being you And doing what you do

Thank you all so much for bringing joy to my day! I hope I'm able to bring some joy to yours as well!

And maybe I'm alone in being me But I do think it nice to tell about those that are kind

In a world so cruel I want to prove there can be kindness as well

I find it pretty funny that it took so long to post this In part because I kept remembering so many fun people⠀

Huh... maybe my friend is right? I am pretty much always happy⠀

Maybe you all have something to do with that?