#to be fair I also do not imagine things very well

[thewalrusespublicist]

hi! really enjoying reading your blog. i've listened to the beatles all my life but only now have i started looking into the more fandom side of things, and reading your interpretations/insights into a huge variety of beatles topics has been super interesting and informative!

as for my question, i've only recently learned how much paul is still like, actively grieving john. (obviously i knew he mourned his death, but john's now been dead longer than he was alive and paul seems just as grief-stricken as he was decades ago.) and something i've been wondering is if he's ever performed his songs that were obviously/highly suspected of being critical of john live since his death? based on much of what i've seen, i imagine he'd have a hard time even looking the fact that he was ever publicly reproachful of john in its face, so to speak. (when considering how wistful and rose-tinted he seems re: john, etc., if that makes sense?)

Hi anon!,

Thank you so much!

I would honestly have to look back at his set lists but to my knowledge, no. I really don't think he'd want to and, to be fair, I don't think there are many songs about John that are that critical and the small pool that are, aren't really suitable for live performances compared to others. Edit: I was wrong, Paul did perform Too Many People in 2005 as part of the setlist and briefly in 2008.

On the slight contrary though, as per the mention of 'mixed feelings' about John in the Lyrics book and other things, I think Paul's grief is intensely complex and that the public only get to see some of it. I don't think he is that upset or regretful about being critical, if you listen to the Salewicz tape closer to the time of John's death Paul says that he could have said an awful lot worse about John and Yoko but he hasn't because he loved John. In the context of the absolute tidal wave of garbage John threw at him, Paul arguably had the sense to not do or say anything really unforgivable so I think his conscious is pretty clear aside from not making up properly. I am not saying that Paul doesn't mean the nice things he says about John publicly (and if any of the anecdotes and stories about him in private are true, these stories are potentially more frequent and intense than you'd expect), but judging from various places and comments he seems to also hold some very difficult feelings about the last ten years of John's life too.

On the grief being so raw, sorry to go on a bit of a tangent but I've been listening to a podcast on grief recently with Anderson Cooper, and it's made me realise that Paul's presentation of grief is a realistic reflection of how intense grief for a loved one actually is compared to how it gets portrayed in the media and how Western culture likes to see it (ie you get like three years and it's done, moving on). A lot of people on that show talk in similar ways to how Paul talks about John (I see signs of them, they talk to me, they're a part of me, the grief can hit me randomly no matter how long its been, I keep things of theirs etc.) With Paul, the level of grief is I suspect how a lot of people actually feel when they lose someone who was extremely dear to them, but his is more on a public stage and so more visible than the standard person's. I do think his grief for John is complicated however by so much: the horror and senselessness of what happened, their unresolved issues, Paul's tendency to bury things deep, deep down, the intensity of his love for people and inability to process the death as 'it's too much' as well as the intense public attention. It's no wonder that the grief still feels so raw and unprocessed.

Paul is also an excellent example of how one's relationship with the deceased continues and evolves over time. Paul hasn't stayed in one place over John's death, his grief has evolved and transformed and I suspect intensified again in the wake of Get Back. I'm glad that by the sounds of it he is coming to a much happier place about it, even if it's potentially more rose-tinted than the reality. But hey, he's in his eighties, if he's going to have this weight of grief forever and if it gives him comfort he may as well focus on all the happy and sunny moments. More than power to him.

[ampresandian]

What I need you to know is that I always imagined Thalia's pine tree being like the most Christmas tree shaped pine tree ever imaginable. Like in my head, it was maybe 6 feet tall and a perfect triangle. Like a real life 🌲 So I did not recognize the tree in the tv show at first

Which is patently ridiculous bc literally right outside my childhood bedroom window in my backyard are the two most gigantic ridiculous pine trees they're probably like 20-30 feet tall and look round so I really feel like they should've been my internal model for Thalia's tree but they were not

[sayakxmi]

Saiouma Puella Magi AU, but Kokichi takes Madoka's role and Shuichi takes Homura's.

For one, Kokichi's too naturally distrustful to just hear "I can grant you any wish :)" and not think ok where's the hook. So he just does what no one ever has & essentially interrogates Kyubey, so he knows it all even before he gets to make a contract. So, some of his classmstes are MGs & he won't become one himself BUT he still ends up tagging along to just protect them in his Kokichi ways. (Though I'm entertaining Kokichi lying about being a magical girl, because, well, it's Kokichi).

(I also got a small idea of Gonta being a magical girls and Kokichi originally tagging along him into labyrinths, Gonta also makes him a magic gun from the toy one he had, and at some point witches out & Kokichi manages to kill him with that gun. So he always has that spare Grief Seed on himself, bc it's still his best friend & he can't handle the idea of just giving it away or using it himself (he does anyway in the end).)

Shuichi prolly ends up being a new kid & it isn't like MadoHomu, the ppl who reach him first are Kaede & Kaito, classic. Kokichi's there, too, but he's his usual sus self. He's actually discouraging ppl from making a contract when they find out magic and miracles are real, which absolutely includes Shuichi. He's very vocal abt it, but he won't explain stutf, bc 1) he's a liar, so who'd believe him? and 2) he doesn't want them to witch out upon finding out the truth or, idk, murder everybody Mami-style.

Anyway, fast forward, bad things happen bingo & by the end of the run most charas are dead, there's Walpurgis nachting, and he makes his wish to bring back the ppl who died notably not as magical girls. Contract signed, he fights & fails, rip. I also thought it was similar to how he thought he could end the killing game by himself - he though he could finish Walpurgisnacht by himself, too. And he failed in both times. Whatevs.

Shuichi doesn't actually make his time travel wish for Ouma specifically, he wants to save all his friends. Timelines are messy esp at first bc he either tells then or it backfires or just makes himself look very sus bc he's trying not to tell them. He also realizes why Kokichi hadn't told anybody aby witches at some point, bc, yeah, it messes them a lot, assuming they believe it.

Still, Kokichi ends up one of the few people who are nearly always giving him a chance, not necessarily out of belief, but out of pragmatism - bro can stop time & knows the truth, that's just too useful. So they often work together & Shuichi grows closer to him but still we ain't there yet. But the thing is, Shuichi's time travel still makes Kokichi more & more powerful with each timeline, bc Shuichi usually goes back after Kokichi dies, so the universe figured out this guy's life's important. Anyway, another notable thing is the iconic Homura kills Madoka scene, but it's Saiouma with guest stars of Kaito & Maki. It's Walpy, it's not defeated yet, but the training trio are spent & just kinda accept their fate of turning into witches together. And then, boom, Kokichi appears & steals their Soul Gems for a sec & he's like did u know you can cleanse your Soul Gem with a darkened one? But it's a lie & he quickly tells them so, he just had a spare Grief Seed after cleansing his Soul Gem & he needs them to do some stuff. Shuichi can travel back in time & fix things, and Maki & Kaito are needed to fight Walpy here. He actually questions what happens to the timelines Shuichi leaves behin, and ofc he doesn't know. There's a chance they remain, so Kokichi needs Maki & Kaito to fight Walpy here.

Kaimaki leave, and Shuichi finally looks at Kokichi & realizes sth is Wrong. Kokichi struggles to hide how he's trembling & grimacing, and it's Kokichi, so obviously it must be extremely bad. Shuichi dreadfully realizes something worse, and he weakly asks Kokichi why aren't his wounds healing. And Kokichi just falls, laughing weakly, and Shuichi catches him & searches for his Soul Gem and, God, he knew it. It's nearly completely black. Kokichi laughs & admits he lied abt having two Grief Seeds, he only had one he never wanted to use. But they'll have the second one soon, so no need to worry. He asks Shuichi to maybe destroy his witch form as it's hatching, so he'll have the Grief Seed without any fighting… and he admits that he hates fighting, he hates this magical world and all its violence. He says that Kaito was right in calling him a coward, even here he just can't handle the idea of fighting any longer, he's so sorry. And Shuichi tells him he ISN'T a coward. He was scared, but he always followed everybody, trying to help, and when push came to shove he would always make a contract for the benefit of others rather than himself. He's a lot of things, but a coward isn't one. Kokichi actually tears up hearing that, and Shuichi promises he won't let him fight ever again, and especially he won't let him turn into a witch and hurt anybody, because he knows it's the last thing he's ever wanted. Even now he only accepts turning into a witch to help them fight to keep others safe. So Shuichi won't let him. Kokichi probably apologizes and thanks him and then he dies.

Keeping Kokichi from fighting starts off as a side quest that gains importance with time, bc it's something Shuichi won't compromise on (ah, trauma), which leads him to occassionally neglect others a bit, which makes them more likely to get hurt & ironically Kokichi more likely to make a contract, especially since he gets more powerful & Kyubey is more interested in him with each timeline. And that also makes him witch out super quick. Shuichi's paying more attention to him & over time grows resentful of others for how they're treating him. To Shuichi it's no question that Kokichi cares & is just doing his best to help, but nobody realizes that.

But the biggest obstacle in keeping Kokichi from fighting is actually Kokichi himself, bc he's too smart and nosy, lmao. Even if he knows nothing, he will find out quickly. Doesn't help that Kyubey wants him to make a contract.

Also, obviously Kaito is Sayaka-coded and Maki could be Kyouko-coded, so that's a thing, BUT it's usually Maki that witches out. Kaito is usually pretty close, but Kokichi intervenes & he survives, but Maki later cracks on her own (and since in the new timeline Kokichi isn't there, Kaito's the one to die, so he's still the secretary). So it's Kaito who gets the dramatic sacrifice. I imagine he genuinely hoped you could bring somebody back if you tried Very Hard & Kokichi called him a moron bc obviously it's not possible. If it was there'd be far less witches that there are. But it's Kaito, he doesn't listen to reason. So, Kokichi follows him to the labyrinth. At first Kaito's mad cuz what if Kokichi being there ruins the plan? Maki hates his guts! But eventually he gets hit pretty hard, and Kokichi is near immediately by his side, trying to help him get up, which kinda makes Kaito short circuit a little bc wait Kokichi's trying to help? But witch!Maki attacks them & Kokichi pushes Kaito away & gets caught himself (and choked until unconsciousness, naturally). Anyway, Kaito gets him away, Shuichi catches Kokichi & Kaito makes up his mind about going down with Maki & asks Shuichi to tell Kokichi that he's sorry. He doesn't get him, but he got hurt trying to protect him, so he'll believe in that if nothing else. F.

As for The WishTM, in the last timeline Shuichi lashes out at Kokichi for his willingness to just become part of the system. In no timeline has his wish actually helped, it did NOTHINHG, which OUCH but it also makes Kokichi think out of the box more & he becomes the Law of Cycles. And Shuichi realizes what is happening & freaks out bc Kokichi's doing it bc of what he told him & like Homura they end up having a momentTM in space & Shuichi remembers. He feels a lot of guilt even tho he also questions whether anything was real, but if it was, he pushed somebody he far too realized he loved into erasing himself from existence.

[shitpostingsapphic]

My favorite headcanons for caitvi are ones where they met as kids/teens, by far

Like it's so fucking cute, the idea that Caitlyn would be immediately drawn to Vi due to her curiosity, and Vi can't help but be smitten by Caitlyn's atypical behaviors and willingness to explore new concepts and experiences and ideas.

Just like when they meet as adults in the original universe, their backgrounds should make them incompatible, but there's that inexplicable draw that brings them together.

Imagine Caitlyn tags along with Jayce to his visits in the undercity without telling her parents and can't stop staring at the pink haired girl she sees there at the shop, just hanging around, and they meet eyes, and BOOM, instant connection. Vi also sneaks glances and realizes she's never seen a Piltie girl her age this close before. She wonders if they're all this pretty.

Imagine Vi is sneaking around topside to catch glimpses of Caitlyn, because she feels like she shouldn't be so drawn to a Piltie, but she is anyway.

Imagine one day Caitlyn actually catches sight of Vi across the street as she tries to remain inconspicuous, but Caitlyn would recognize that pink hair in a heartbeat. Imagine she sneaks away from her mother or whoever she's with in order to go talk to her.

"It's you," she says, shy yet bold.

Vi, of course, tries to play it off. "Dunno what you're talking about, topside." But the blush on her cheeks tells another story.

Caitlyn ignores the very obvious attempts at ignorance. "I've been wanting to come visit the shop again, but it's hard for me to find the chance to get away from my mother. She's kind of overprotective."

Vi decides it's best not to play dumb, but can't completely be honest about wanting to see her as well. "You're sure you wanna share about your life with me? Maybe your mom's got a point, shouldn't associate with undercity trash and all."

Caitlyn frowns. "I don't think you're trash. That's silly. Why would you call yourself that?"

Vi is caught a bit off guard. "Isn't that what all you Pilties think of us?"

"I certainly don't." Caitlyn cocks her head as this leaves Vi without a response. "Why are you here, anyway?"

Vi stumbles around in her head for an answer. Shoves her hands in her pockets. Kicks a rock aside. Shrugs. "W-why are YOU talking to me?"

This makes Caitlyn smirk. "I DID say I've been meaning to come back to the shop. What do you think?"

"Dunno. Could want a number of things there." Vi has been staring at the ground but peers up at Caitlyn here. "Give me a hint?" The barest of upturned lips.

This makes Caitlyn break out into a genuine smile that steals Vi's breath a bit. "You're kind of adorable, you know that?"

Vi sputters. "Am NOT."

"Are so." Caitlyn tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Can't help but think the girl's freckles compliment her blush well.

Vi rolls her eyes, trying to pretend her brain isn't setting off fireworks. "I don't even know your name."

"Would you like to know it?" Caitlyn says, tilting her head.

"Since you insist on teasing me, I think it's fair."

"But you make it so easy," Caitlyn giggles. "Alright. I'm Caitlyn."

"Caitlyn," Vi breathes. Shakes her head. Clears her throat. Thrusts her hand out, scuffed up palms and knuckles and all. "I'm Vi."

"Vi. Pleasure to meet you." Caitlyn takes her hand without hesitation, notices how rough they feel compared to hers, incredibly intrigued.

"Caitlyn!" A voice calls. The girls both turn. It's her mother.

"Shit." Caitlyn breathes.

This makes Vi laugh, surprised. "Didn't know princesses could use words like that."

"Oh, hush." Caitlyn looks back at her, panicked. "I have to go. I'm sorry." Her eyes shift so they're alight with mischief. She jerks her head towards her mom. "You've got a talent for sneaking around, I assume?"

"And if I do?"

"Wait until we're out of sight. Maybe if you're good enough, you can stay under her radar." Caitlyn smirks. "Maybe you could teach me how to sneak about myself. Could come in handy."

Without giving Vi a chance to respond, she turns away, skirt swishing about.

And if Vi does exactly what Caitlyn says, following her home out of sight, and later taps at the same glass doors of the balcony she sees the girl disappear into after a while of spying, no one is the wiser. She figures she doesn't need to tell Vander what she's been up to just yet.

[themultifanshipper]

Poker? I hardly know her!

You and Oscar stared at Lando, who was peeling his shirt off before anyone had even put any chips on the table.

Maybe Lando didn't understand the rules of poker after all...

Warnings: Not quite proofread I just needed to get it out of my drafts before people started bringing pitchforks to my house, some of this is insane, i'm warning you, brief poker jargon, fucking on a jet, oral sex, male and female recieving AND giving, canonically bisexual landoscar, a bit of a humiliation kink, strip poker turns dirty very quickly, bad dirty talk, cum, Lando is a TEASE and a WHORE, finger sucking (inspired by something someone actually did to me once)

“Lando why are you taking your shirt off?” Oscar frowned in confusion.

“This is strip poker. You bet your clothes, don't you?” he answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You'd known Lando a long time, and he was a bit of a dim bulb (affectionate) sometimes.

Oscar you'd only met when he became Lando's teammate, but you got along like a house on fire, and despite you not knowing each other very well, one of your favourite bonding activities was making fun of Lando.

“Lando!” you laughed “that's not how it works. You bet your clothes but you only take them off if you lose”

He looked offended at the implication that he didn't already know that and tried to defend himself, but he had a slight tint of red quickly spreading over his cheeks.

“I knew that! I just think it's better to put my bets on the table is all...”

You and Oscar dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Okay whatever you say, it's not like you'd be keeping it on long anyway” you teased and winked at Oscar.

“Oh fuck off!” he gave you the middle finger before picking up his cards that Oscar had been dealing. “and since when do you play poker? You’ve never mentioned it to me...”

Oscar shrugged, picking up his own cards.

“You know what boarding school is like. There's nothing to do except play poker, and ... uhh...” he trailed off and you looked at him questioningly.

“Well, you know. It's boring” he said quickly, his cheeks going slightly pink as he avoided your gaze.

Lando narrowed his eyes at him. “Yeah, I do know what boarding school is like. But we never played poker”

“Okay what did you play then mister wise guy?” Oscar's tone was off, like he was trying to accuse Lando of something.

Lando's face went blank, and you could tell he was going through the options one by one, not wanting to say any of them out loud.

“I can't remember?” he tried.

Oscar scoffed in disbelief and you decided to intervene.

“Right, are we playing then?”

“Gladly” they both muttered in sync.

You weren't naive. You knew exactly what boys got up to in boarding schools.

You'd been to an all girls boarding school yourself, and had your fair share of... experiences.

But both of them seemed to be a bit embarrassed about theirs as they settled in their seats like big birds that had just gotten their feathers ruffled.

The game went just about as well as expected.

Lando ended up in his boxers after only 3 rounds, while you and Oscar hadn't taken a single item of clothing off.

His nipples pebbled in the cool conditioned air, and you could see goosebumps erupting all over his skin.

Your eyes scanned his thighs briefly and you gulped. They were thick, and he was in tight black boxers that really didn’t leave much to the imagination.

As enticing as the sight was, it didn't help your concentration.

Oscar was once again dealing cards, and you noticed him side-eyeing Lando a couple of times.

“Are you sure you're not cold, mate?”

Lando shivered but didn't relent in his stubbornness.

“No I'm fine. Besides, I am determined to beat at least one of you”

“You'll be fully naked long before that happens” Oscar chuckled but it sounded hollow.

You also forced out a laugh. Lando naked was the last thing you needed right now.

But with an ace and a jack in your hand, how could you possibly lose?

And you were right. Lando could go all in if he wanted to (and he did) but on the table were a king, a queen, and a ten. And he was a terrible bluffer, he was way too cocky.

Oscar had already folded so it was up to you to get Lando's pants off.

You put your cards down face up.

“Sorry mate, I've got a straight” you said in mock- sympathy. “Someone's getting naked and it ain't me”.

You smirked at him.

“Not so fast” Lando tutted at you and showed his cards.

He also had an ace and a jack.

But they were the same colour as the cards on the fucking table. All spades.

He had a royal fucking flush. The highest hand possible.

Oscar gasped softly.

“Well well well, looks like someone else is taking their shirt off!”

You felt your face heat up immediately.

You only had a T-shirt on.

As in, you only had a T-shirt on.

“Ummm...” you flushed and picked at the edge of the table. “about that...”

You looked at Oscar but quickly averted your gaze when your eyes met.

“What's the matter?” he asked curiously.

“let’s just say that if I take my shirt off, Lando won't be the only one with his tits out”

Comprehension dawned on their faces and they both went fully red.

It all became suddenly very real. It was all fun and games until one of had to actually do it.

“Uh- well you don't have to, you can uhh” Oscar stuttered his way through an excuse “you can take your pants off or- or something. Or like just not do it. It's just a game. No pressure to actually get naked”

You looked at Lando and he smirked.

“If you're not uncomfortable with it you can do it if you want. We're all adults here, we've all seen boobs before, no biggie”

You hesitated. “Oscar?”

“Yeah, yeah whatever you're comfortable with!” his voice was weirdly high pitched but he nodded reassuringly.

You worked up the courage and grabbed the bottom of you shirt, slowly lifting it up over your head.

When your vision became unobstructed again, Oscar was staring at a spot on the ceiling, and the Lando's smirk had been wiped clean off his face.

Despite being your best friend for a long time, he'd never seen you topless, even though (and he would never admit this out loud) he'd fantasized about it many times.

You could tell he was struggling to maintain eye contact with you, his eyes glazing over slightly.

You chuckled nervously.

“It's okay you can look. Like you said they're just tits, right?”

Oscar glanced at them quickly, then did a double take and his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly and looked away again.

Lando’s mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but his words died in his throat as he also just stared unblinkingly.

It was objectively quite funny how you'd rendered them both utterly speechless.

After a good thirty seconds though, it started getting a bit too weird.

“Okay this is getting creepy now, do you want me to put my shirt back on?”

“No!” they answered wayyy too quickly. “Its fine we're just a bit surprised is all”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay horndogs, shall we get back to it, then?”

They nodded almost absentmindedly, and Lando dealt the cards.

“I'm now determined to get Lando naked to take some of the attention off of me, now” you joked lightly and the other two laughed.

The atmosphere became a bit less charged over the course of the next round, but Oscar was seemingly very much off his game suddenly, because he lost two in a row.

In the name of fairness, he took his pants off, and his black hoodie, so he was still left in a T-shirt that thankfully hid the raging boner he was currently trying to make go down with sheer force of will.

He had an almost naked Lando inches away on his right, and a magnificent pair of breasts in front of him.

How was he supposed to concentrate in these conditions? He was living a bisexual's wet dream.

But he was determined to win, so he dealt the cards.

Lando was getting a bit antsy. He was already pretty turned on by the sight of you, but now, he couldn't stop staring at Oscar's thighs.

They were so thick. He wanted to touch them. Maybe give them a lick and a bite.

His fingers twitched on his lap, where he was trying his best to hide the ever growing problem in his underwear, that was unfortunately not covered by a T-shirt.

But he wanted to touch Oscar's thighs. He wanted to feel the thick muscles under his large hands.

“You doing okay there, guys?” you asked.

The two men in front of you were unconsciously squirming in their seats, doing their best (and failing) to not check each other out.

“Yeah, i'll start at 200” Oscar said, taking a single chip from his enormous pile.

It wasn't his turn, but it didn't matter, none of you were truly focusing on the game right now.

“I'll go all in” Lando said, voice cracking.

Oscar sucked in a breath.

“You sure you want to do that? You've only got one chip left”

“Absolutely” the older man said defiantly, his eyes dark as he stared at you.

A shiver ran down your spine. He was going to lose, you could feel it. He was going to lose and he was going to get naked.

“I'll fold” you muttered.

It was all between Oscar and Lando, now.

“I guess it's all in then”

The atmosphere was tense once again as Lando showed his cards first.

Full house. There was no way Oscar hadn't been bluffing.

“I think you're gonna need to take your shirt off mate” he tried to sound cocky but it wasn't very convincing.

A slow smirk took over Oscar's features, and he grinned evilly at Lando.

He slapped his cards down, face up, and the colour drained from Lando's face.

“Four of a kind. Mate”

You glanced down at Lando's boxers.

There was a small wet patch forming at the front.

Looks like being humiliated was getting him going.

You decided to try and save his dignity, but you knew Oscar had also noticed, if the way he was currently looking at Lando like he wanted to eat him, was any indication.

“You don't have to Lando, if you don't want to”

But his mind seemed made up and he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers.

“No it's fine, a bet is bet” he was very red in the face, but true to his word he pulled his underwear off and let it drop to the floor under the table.

You didn't look. You swear you didn't look.

“You can look guys” Lando said, you could hear the cockiness dripping from his words. He knew what he looked like naked.

“Nope, I'm good” you replied. “Oscar?”

“Yeah, nah I'm good. Shall we keep going?” he asked you with a forced smile.

“Yep, deal the cards, then”

Oscar picked up the cards and Lando whined.

“Wait, I wanna keep playing too” he sounded so pathetic. It made your thighs clench together.

And Oscar noticed.

“Lando you don't have anything left to wager. What are you going to bet? Your skin?” he mocked, but Lando didn't miss a beat.

“I’ve got a mouth. And I don't have a gag reflex”

Your jaw dropped and Oscar choked on his spit.

“Jesus, Lando” you breathed.

But the silence that followed was deafening as everyone seemed to be thinking about it.

You looked at Oscar, who looked at Lando, who looked back at you defiantly.

Well, it seemed this game was taking a turn. But you weren't complaining, and neither was Oscar.

“okay” you and Oscar said at the same time.

He dealt the cards, and you had a particularly shit hand so you folded, almost dissapointed that you wouldn't be winning Lando's mouth.

Lando refused to fold, despite having a shit hand as well, so he lost, naturally.

“So uhh... you want to uhm-“ Oscar gestured vaguely in front of him.

You took pity on Oscar. “You going to put your mouth to good use?” you translated for him, and Lando nodded.

“Yup” he chirped, and promptly dropped under the table. He was so eager, you were starting to think he'd planned this all along, and was losing on purpose.

But no, he wasn't that manipulative.

You could barely see what was going on but Lando dragged Oscar's underwear down and groaned.

Then it was Oscar's turn to let out a pathetic little noise as Lando's head sank downwards.

“Lando, fuck-“ he squeezed his eyes shut, the sudden heat of Lando's mouth overwhelming him. “Your mouth, Jesus Christ”

The sight was quite erotic, Oscar fingers threading through Lando's hair as the obscene sounds sounds of his mouth working Oscar's cock filled the cabin.

Oscar looked down at him with a furrowed brow and his mouth open in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

You certainly couldn't. Oscar had always seemed quite reserved to you, yet here he was, getting deepthroated by your friend, in front of you.

“God, yeah. Take it. Good boy” he lifted his hips to meet Lando's mouth and Lando moaned wantonly around him.

One of Lando's feet knocked into yours under the table, making you look down.

You gasped in shock. Not at how fucking round and peachy his ass looked, although that was worth noting, no, what turned your world on its axis was the fact that Lando was wearing socks.

The absolute whore.

Turns out he was that manipulative.

“Oscar!” You called, and he looked back up at you with lidded eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Lando's still wearing his fucking socks!”

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he looked down to where Lando's face was red and covered in drool and tears already.

“Lando...” he let out a shuddery moan “If you wanted us to treat you like a little slut, all you had to do was ask.” He cooed, stroking Lando's tears away.

The older man suddenly did something with his tongue that made Oscar throw his head back and tighten his hold in Lando's hair.

“Christ Lando, where did you lean to do that?” he panted, and Lando pulled off of him for a second to reply.

“Boarding school” he rasped, voice hoarse.

You and Oscar chuckled breathlessly. Of course, stupid question, really.

It didn't take Oscar very long to reach his end with how Lando was swallowing around him, throat tightening rythmically.

You were very wet. Rubbing your thighs together wasn't quite enough so you pulled down your own pants and underwear and slid a hand down your body.

The first touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. You spread your thighs, which caught Oscar's attention, and he gasped and unexpectedly came with a shout down Lando's throat.

Lando, the whore, swallowed every last drop.

His hair was a mess and he turned around, wondering what Oscar was staring so intently at.

The sight of your legs propped up on the table and your fingers pumping in and out of you as your cunt drooled onto the seat made his mouth go very dry.

He crawled over to you under the table and pulled your hand away.

His hungry gaze made your thighs clench, but his large hands came to hold them open as the flat of his tongue licked a long stripe up your soaked folds.

Your hands grabbed a hold of his hair, like Oscar had, and he closed his eyes in bliss.

“Pull it” Oscar said and you glanced at him before doing as he said.

You tugged sharply and the reaction was immediate.

The moan that came from Lando's mouth was downright pornographic, and you grinned, pushing his head down to where you were dripping onto the seat.

He wasted no time lapping up every drop and soon he slid a finger inside you, and then a second one, crooking them upwards and making you see stars.

Turns out Lando wasn't just good with his mouth, his hands were also a goddamn gift to humanity.

By the time you'd stopped shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Oscar was hard again and languidly stroking himself at the sight of you.

Lando stood up, his back cracking after being hunched over for so long.

You properly took him in for the first time. His cock was big, bigger than you'd expected, and his thighs were covered in what you assumed was precum.

You instinctively wrapped a hand around him and swiped your thumb over his tip.

He hissed and batted your hand away.

“I want to see you two fuck” he said, as if that wasn't a totally insane thing to say.

You looked at Oscar, who didn't look opposed to the idea, then back up at Lando.

“What about you?”

He grinned at you mischievously.

“I'm going to watch. And then I'm going to come on those lovely tits of yours”

You blinked up at him and he bent down, sliding a hand under your jaw to tilt your head up.

He stopped, his lips almost brushing yours as he spoke.

“It does hurt a bit. But I really, really want to see my teammate fuck my best friend.” He hooked his thumb over your teeth to press on your tongue, opening up your mouth for him.

“And besides...” he continued “I like it when it hurts”

He pulled away, leaving you completely breathless and more soaked than you'd ever been in your life.

He helped you lie down on the table, and Oscar spread your legs, biting his lip at the sight of your slick covered thighs.

He slid himself through your folds, rubbing your clit and you whined pathetically.

He decided not to tease you too much, and slid home in one go, knocking the wind out of you.

You all moaned at the slick sounds coming from where you and Oscar were joined, and he quickly picked up the pace, his hips slapping against yours.

Lando may have been good with his mouth and hands, but my god, Oscar knew what to do with his hips. Your g-spot didn’t stand a chance.

His abs flexed with every expert roll of his hips, one of his hands planting itself next to your head to hold himself up, the other wrapping around one of your thighs to pull you back against his thrusts.

Whatever poker chips were left on the table were digging into your back but you could barely feel them, you were high on the feeling of Oscar splitting you open on his cock.

Lando couldn't help himself, he turned your head to the side and tapped your lips with his pointer finger.

“Open up, darling. I want to see what you look like with a mouth full of cock”

Yes the line was pretty cheesy, but you stuck your tongue out anyway, and he grinned as he slid his tip along it. He shuddered at the stimulation, and gave an experimental shallow thrust into your mouth.

“Such a good girl... like you were made for it weren't you? Getting stuffed full of us” his fingers danced along your collarbones and you shuddered at the touch.

“So responsive as well...” he looked at your breasts, heaving and bouncing with the force of Oscar's thrusts. He pinched a nipple harshly and you cried out, voice muffled by his cock. “Would you believe me if I told I've dreamt about these quite a bit...”

You rolled your eyes and gave him the middle finger, but he just grabbed your hand and stuck said finger in his mouth and sucked on it.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks at the lewd action, and then he put a second finger in his mouth and shoved them all the way back.

You were going to combust on the spot.

When he pulled his mouth off it with an obscene pop, he looked down at you condescendingly, your mouth still firmly wrapped around his leaking cock.

“Why don't you put those fingers to better use, and make yourself come with them”

You did as you were told and pressed them to your clit, rubbing very slow circles.

Oscar was losing his sanity watching the two of you interact. The bickering, and acting as if he wasn't there, was making him hornier than anything and his hips stuttered as he felt the beginnings of an orgasm creeping up on him.

“Oh come on” Lando drawled, picking up the pace of his own hips “You can do better than that”

You rubbed faster, matching the rythm of his thrusts, and very soon you were thrown over the edge of extasy, back arching and toes curling as you clenched around Oscar.

Lando desperately wanted to hear your pretty moans so he pulled out and finished himself off by hand, on your tits, as promised.

Oscar collapsed on top of you, groaning into your neck as his hips stuttered to a halt, and you could already feel his cum seeping out of you onto the table.

You panted into the now stifling air of the cabin, wondering how the hell you got to this point in your friendship.

Oscar lifted himself off you, and glanced at Lando's cum now smeared over the both of you.

He leaned down and licked a stripe up one of your breasts, over a nipple which made you gasp, and then pulled you in for a filthy kiss.

Fuck it was good. Oscar was a really good kisser apparently. The taste of Lando just added to the depravity of the scene.

Lando felt a tad jealous at that moment. He'd lusted over you for years, and he hadn't even kissed you yet.

You and Oscar parted for breath and you saw the look on Lando's face.

“Oh for god's sake, come here!” you made grabby hands at him and he gladly leant down, capturing your lips in a passion filled embrace, his hands going to cup your face as he deepened it.

The cleanup was a nightmare, but you couldn't walk off the plane naked and covered in cum, so you managed.

You did the best you could with bottles of water and some towels, before getting dressed again, just as the pilot announced he was beginning his descent.

“Well what did we learn today, kids?” you said cheerfully once the three of you were on solid ground “Boarding schools teach you very important life lessons, and Lando-“ you slapped his chest playfully “is much better at poker than he lets on!”

The three of you giggled like children, rolling your suitcases on the tarmac of Nice airport, not hearing the pilot mumbling to himself behind you.

“And I learned today that private jet cabins are no where near soundproof....”

Taglist: @teamnovalak

[colormepurplex2]

Golden Cufflinks | JJK

▻ Golden Cufflinks ↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ Best Friend's Fiance, Strangers to True Mates ⤜ A/B/O AU | angst, smut, fluff ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 11,742 ⤜ Summary: You’ve never given much thought to finding your true mate, firmly believing it’s something that will happen when it happens. But, when you do find him—thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks—it very well could ruin everything. They say not all’s fair in love and war; you just hadn’t expected your best friend’s wedding to be the battleground. ⚠️ Crass language, talk of designation hierarchy, mild talk of misogynistic practices of the past, confessions of cheating(not by main pairing), anger/arguments, kissing, dick sucking, mild cum intrigue, maybe mild breeding kink if you squint, unprotected v. sex, knotting, lots of slick and cum

Written for @hisunshiine as part of the 2nd Quarter 2023 @bangtanwritershq Awards Season! A/N: Congratualtions, Vanessa. You deserve all the kudos for a job well done during the 2nd Quarter 2023, I hope you enjoy the story!

A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi, @lo1k-diamonds, @moonleeai for the amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

Nerves flutter in your belly as you gather your belongings from the plastic bin at the end of the rolling conveyor belt on the other side of security. As you walk away, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you have to juggle your purse and jacket to retrieve it.

You feel bad for making Hayun, your best friend for as long as you can remember, wait for a response, but you desperately just want to find your gate and have a seat first. Once you find it and settle in at a chair by the big windows looking out on the tarmac, you thumb to her contact.

“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d probably hate you right now for making me wait so long for a response,” Hayun sasses before her voice softens, “Hello, I love you.”

“Love you, too, girl,” you say, unable to help the smile that tilts your lips up. “Sorry, I’ve been MIA for the last few hours. Things have been hectic. I misplaced my passport this morning, but I finally found it under the bed and then missed the hotel shuttle. I had to call a rideshare, but of course, it took them forever to get through airport traffic, and ugh…” you trail off with a sigh. “I’m sitting down for the first time since I woke up this morning.”

Which was approximately four hours ago at this point. Your flight is set to take off less than an hour from now, so you imagine boarding might start soon. You’re not exaggerating when you say it’s been hectic. It was bad enough waking up at 3 AM, but you’re a chronic planner and stickler for time, so missing your flight was the absolute last thing you wanted to happen.

“Oh, babe, that sucks. I’m glad it’s all worked out, though. I really can’t wait to see you!”

The conversation passes quickly, easing your heart and mind as you catch up on the last twenty-four hours. You haven’t seen Hayun in a handful of years. Her career took her to the other side of the world, and yours kept you where you both grew up. The last time you saw her was through a haze of tears at this very airport when she boarded a plane destined for Seoul, South Korea, where she was adopted from at just two years old.

Visiting each other was always something you both talked about. But, as with most things, life just happens, and eventually, you find yourself making that visit you always talked about for reasons you never considered before—like your best friend tying the knot with a guy you’ve never met.

Sure, you’ve seen pictures of him and have heard him talk in the background of most of the phone calls you’ve exchanged with Hayun over the last few years. But, it was never on your friendship bingo card that the next time you’d find yourself seeing your best friend, it would be her at her wedding.

“I gotta go. They’re about to start boarding.”

“I’ll see you when you land. Can’t wait!”

Hayun disconnects the call, and you gather your belongings to prepare to line up in the boarding queue. It will be a long flight, but seeing Hayun again after so long apart will be worth it.

You fiddle with the bracelet on your left wrist, twisting and pinching at the silver moon charm dangling from the thin chain. Hayun has a matching one. They were presents from your parents on the day you were both recognized with your designations; she was thirteen, and you were fifteen.

The dynamics of Alphas and Omegas have long since changed from what it once was. Legend has it that once upon a time, an Alpha and an Omega were closer to their wolf-kin than how the world is now. Thanks to evolution and science, the only things remaining from that time are the more basic bodily functions—scents, knots, and slick, to sum it up.

The crescent charm on your wrist symbolizes your designation—Omega. But being an Omega doesn’t hold much meaning for you. You don’t feel all that special, and it’s not like you’re rare or any more or less capable than the next person. As it stands, you can see at least a dozen other moons jangling from bracelets, waiting to board the same plane you are.

There are also necklaces, tattoos, and other ways to display a designation scattered around the waiting area. The how of it is mostly regional, sometimes generational. The Beta standing behind you in the queue has a teardrop earring dangling from their left ear, and if it weren’t for the pheromone blockers you took this morning, you might be able to smell their unique scent.

You also have your own smell, a scent that is just you. You’ve been told it’s a sweet, citrusy bouquet like lemonade on a hot summer afternoon. However, also thanks to the blockers, it remains suppressed to the point someone would have to make you bleed or press their nose so firmly against your throat it hurts to smell it.

There really is only one thing that a lot of people are envious of when it comes to an Omega’s designation, and that is that they supposedly have an Alpha true mate out there somewhere that will call to their baser nature. It’s such a rare phenomenon these days that it might as well be part of the legends of old, too.

The bottom line is that no one cares about subgenders anymore; it doesn't matter whether your charm is the Omega crescent, the teardrop of a Beta, or the triskelion denoting an Alpha. In fact, you’re pretty sure you could ask the Beta for their earring and offer them your charm bracelet and no one would bat an eye over it.

Though you’d never do that, considering the chain around your wrist isn’t technically yours. The night after you presented as Omega, when you snuck away with Hayun to lay on a blanket under the stars and moon that was so like the charm hanging from your twin bracelets, you giggled as you exchanged them. Her tiny fingers trembled against your wrist as she secured her silver chain around it. You did the same with your own around hers a second later.

It was that night that you both swore always to be friends. No matter what happened in life or where either of you ended up, you would always remain true to one another. So far, your friendship has been unfailing, a constant thread of comfort and light for you both. No matter how long it’s been, the charm still smells faintly of your best friend—a perk of the charms themselves, holding a token essence of their owners. Hers holds a soft lilac and jasmine scent that you’ve always thought complimented your own citrus notes.

The flight attendant scanning boarding passes beckoning you forward breaks you out of your internal reflections. With a full heart and giddy anticipation curling in your belly, you find your seat and settle in.

It’s a long flight, longer than most flights you’ve taken. But when you finally walk off the plane, make it through customs and immigration, and finally empty into the arrivals terminal of the Incheon Airport, you feel immediate relief, and the hours spent in the air don’t seem so bad.

“Hey, over here!” a familiar voice calls out, catching your attention.

You spin on your heel, confusion setting in for just a moment before it’s replaced by another wave of relief and a little of something warmer. Taehyung, Hayun’s adopted brother, swamps you in a giant bear hug that quite literally sweeps you off of your feet.

“Wow, hey. This is a surprise. What are you doing here? Where’s Hayun?”

Taehyung scrunches up his face, letting out a small scoff. “It’s a good surprise, I hope. Something came up, and she had to meet with the wedding planner and caterer at the last minute. She called me and asked if I could pick you up.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah,” you confirm with a smile. “Good surprise.”

It’s no secret that you’ve always been fond of Taehyung. As a baby, you were toddling around with him long before his family adopted Hayun. She ended up being the sister you never knew you needed, even if you were a few years older.

When she moved to Seoul for work, Taehyung ended up being the physical representation that took her place. He flew out a week before you to help her with planning and will stay for a few weeks after you’ve already headed back home. They may have had their differences over the years, but their sibling bond is stronger than petty arguments and rivalries.

“Ready to get on the road? It’s a long drive.”

Hours later, with the rolling countryside and farms dotting the horizon, you discover the fiasco inside your backpack. The bottle of pheromone blockers you packed this morning somehow got shuffled to the bottom of your bag and popped open. The once-powder-filled capsules litter the bottom of your bag, broken open. Pale blue powder coats your things, the mild flower smell of the medicine lingering in the air.

“Fucking hell,” you groan. “Any chance there’s a clinic somewhere between here and where we’re going?”

“Unfortunately, no.” He frowns, drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, making the triskelion signet ring on his index finger glitter in the mid-day sun. “We’d probably have to turn around and head nearly three hours back to get anywhere near a clinic with blockers. I'm told most people don’t use them anymore these days here. Maybe another one of the wedding party might have some you could borrow if you really need them. But, honestly, I don’t see anyone minding if you don’t use them.”

“Most people here don’t use them anymore?”

“Well, yeah, with the progression of equality and things like that. They’re so great here, way more progressive than back home. It’s very common for Omegas to go off of blockers or never even begin them. Laws have been implemented to punish Alphas who can’t control themselves. The responsibility of remaining safe shouldn’t be solely set on the shoulders of the Omega population.”

Talk like that has only recently become popular back home. You’ve heard the speeches and followed the media and the sources, but you suppose after nearly half of your life taking blockers, it just comes naturally to continue to do so.

“Hm, yeah, okay. I guess it’s no big deal, really. As long as you’re sure people won’t mind?”

Taehyung sniffs the air, his nose twitching. “I think you smell great, but just in case not everyone does, if someone says something, then I’ll personally drive all the way back to the city and pick you up some,” Taehyung promises, giving you one of his swoon-worthy smiles.

The crush you once upon a time had on Taehyung threatens to spark anew at the sight of his charming, boxy grin—a grin you would have once done anything to pull from him. But now, it just fills you with warmth and a homey comfort.

You give him a smile of your own. “Deal.”

“Hayun!”

Her squeal of delight when she turns around and catches sight of you echoes through the open space of the dimly lit bar of the bed and breakfast where the wedding is taking place.

It’s a cozy space with rich dark wood accents and royal blue velvet upholstery. Brass gas lamps and light fixtures give the entire lounge an upscale and chic atmosphere that you know is right up Hayun’s alley.

The few hours you had between checking in at the bed and breakfast and meeting Hayun for her very small—just you and one other person—bachelorette party were spent familiarizing yourself with the grounds.

The ceremony will take place in one of the lavish gardens, and the reception will follow in one of the grand dining halls. For a bed and breakfast, it’s far fancier than any you’ve ever been to. It definitely does not have the mom-and-pop feel that you typically associate with the term ‘B&B’.

“You’re here!” she shrills, throwing her arms around your neck.

Her petite form fits just like it always has against yours. Thick black hair, shorter than the last time you saw it, curls around the rounded lines of her cheeks, and her brown eyes are bright and glisten with happy tears. With her bubbly personality and small, wispy frame, she's always reminded you of a fairy.

You sigh, taking a deep breath and savoring your best friend's soft, floral scent. Thanks to the bracelet tinkling around her wrist, it holds the smallest undercurrent of your sweet citrus. Clearly, she’s not taking blockers; the scents are heavy and delightful. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Hayun sucks in a deep breath that mirrors yours. “Wow, babe, you smell good! Finally gone off the blockers, huh?”

“Uh, kind of,” you chuckle, untangling yourself from her arms. “I brought some, but they broke open in my bag at some point.” You shrug. “Tae said it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s not. Absolutely not,” Hayun agrees, grinning broadly. “I’ve been off them for years and haven’t had a single issue. Come on, let’s have a drink and catch up!”

You settle in at a table, and it’s not long before Eunseo, Hayun’s other guest, joins you. You’ve heard a lot about Eunseo. Much the same way Taehyung took the place of Hayun for you, Eunseo took your place for Hayun. You half expect to feel some sort of friendship jealousy upon meeting Eunseo for the first time, but it doesn’t come. If anything, you’re immediately fond of the young woman.

The evening carries on, Hayun and Eunseo regaling you with tales from working together and their various adventures around Seoul. Eunseo shows genuine interest in your life back home, seeming eager to hear stories of Hayun’s childhood. She shows a particular interest in Taehyung, asking you in no certain terms more than you think is appropriate to share.

“But you’ve seen it, right?” Eunseo asks. Her elbows rest on the table, and her chin is nestled on her clasped hands, her eyes wide and glassy from the countless glasses of wine she’s had. “I bet it’s huge. Am I right?”

“Ugh,” Hayun groans. “Can we not talk about my brother’s dick. Please.” She makes a gagging sound before slurping down the rest of her cocktail and flagging down a passing waiter for another.

You try to wave off the waiter, but he’s turned toward the bar before you can get his attention. If Hayun has much more to drink, you’re not sure she’ll be able to walk down the aisle tomorrow unassisted.

“I’m just curious. It’s a harmless question,” Eunseo pouts. “Ignore her. Tell me. I just have to know.”

You swirl the straw around in your glass of water before giving Eunseo what you hope is a conspiratorial look. “Well—”

“What?! Ew. Are you really about to answer her? Please, dear god, do not tell me you have seen my brother’s penis. If you’ve seen it—fuck, I might actually puke.”

As much as you probably shouldn’t, you laugh, which earns further protests and obscene noises from Hayun.

“Before you interrupted me, I was going to say that maybe Eunseo should ask him herself.”

Hayun howls a protest, sloshing her new cocktail onto the table as she gesticulates a crude hand gesture in your direction. “Do not. I repeat, do not do that, Eunseo!”

The conversation peters off, Hayun losing herself in another cocktail while Eunseo stares dreamily up at the ceiling.

“I think—hiccup—it's bedtime,” Eunseo slurs.

As if right on cue, a familiar face peeks through the entrance to the lounge. You wave Taehyung down, and he comes jogging across the space to your table. His shirt is rumpled with the top few buttons undone, but his eyes are clear, and you know he’ll be a perfect gentleman.

“Are you sure?” you ask him, pitching your voice low.

“I got this, don’t worry. We finished up a few hours ago anyway.”

Taehyung gives you a warm, private smile before turning to Eunseo. “Hey there, beautiful. Let’s get you on to bed, okay?”

“Where’s my savior?” Hayun asks, frowning after her brother escorting Eunseo from the lounge and back through the front lobby.

“Right here,” you tell her, sliding out of your chair and coming around to her side of the table. “Come on, let’s go.”

It takes you more than twice as long as it usually would to get to Hayun’s room. She leans against the wall in the hall as you dig through her pockets in search of her room key. Once you find it tucked between a few stray bills and her ID, you usher her into the room and deposit her onto the bed.

Her fiance has a room on the other side of the grounds, but after the ceremony, they will both be moving into one of the couple’s suites for the night before jet-setting off to Jeju Island for their week-long honeymoon.

“Am I doing the right thing?”

Hayun’s question catches you off guard. You throw a confused look at her over your shoulder as you rummage through her suitcase in search of something for her to sleep in.

“What?”

She sighs as she rolls over, letting her head hang off the edge of the bed so she can look at you upside down. “Marrying Jungkook. It’s a mistake…so why am I doing it?”

“Hayun…what are you talking about? Jungkook is perfect for you. You guys have been dating for five years, and you told me you’ve never been happier. Where’s the mistake in that?”

The sound Hayun makes is akin to something a wounded animal might make. She flops, flailing her arms and legs like a child throwing a fit.

“That’s the thing, though! I’m happy, but I don’t love him. Oh god,” she cries. “I don’t love him.”

“Hey, hey now.” You abandon the search for sleeping clothes and crawl across the floor until you’re kneeling beside the bed. Smoothing your hand across her forehead, you ask, “Where is all this coming from?”

“He thinks I’m his true mate,” she whispers. The tears leaking from her eyes slide up her face, wetting the edges of her eyebrows before sliding over her forehead and disappearing into her hair. “But I know he’s not mine.”

“Wh—wait, what?” You push up from the floor and move onto the bed, gathering your best friend’s head into your lap so she’s no longer hanging upside down off the side of the bed.

She hiccups a sob, lips trembling as she explains, “He says I’m his true mate, that he knows because of my scent. But he doesn’t smell special to me…how is that possible?”

“Hayun, I don’t—”

“I cheated on him,” she whimpers in confession, cutting off what were going to be your soothing words of affirmation. They sour on your tongue, refusing to be released now.

Your stomach churns at her admittance. “You what?”

“You have every right to judge me. I’m a terrible person. But, when he told me I was his true mate…I panicked. I had to be sure I wasn’t broken, that me not finding his scent special wasn’t just something wrong with me.” Hayun blinks rapidly, trying to clear the tears as they begin to come in earnest. She clutches at the front of her shirt, hand fisting over her heart. “So, I slept with two Alphas that I work with to see if it was any different. I had to be sure. I had to know.”

“Hayun, I-I-I don’t…I’m not—”

“I’m such a fucking mess,” she sobs, curling in on you and pressing her face against your stomach. “I don’t deserve him. I only said yes to marrying him because I don’t want to be alone forever. I can’t be like you. I need someone.”

Her words sting, causing you to flinch involuntarily. You watch as she falls apart in your lap, ultimately giving in to her grief. It’s on the tip of your tongue to call her out on her childish behavior, to set the record straight about your own love life, and to leave her to her wallowing. But…the shaking of her shoulders and soft whines from her remind you so much of a younger and more fragile Hayun—the Hayun of your shared childhoods.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” No matter how you might feel about her actions and the hurtful words she’s spilled, you hate to see your best friend so distraught and broken. “Hey, look at me.”

You wait until her watery eyes peel away from your shirt and meet yours. “Tell me you hate me; it’s okay.”

“Hayun, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You made…a mistake, that’s all. You were trying to figure things out. But…Hayun, you…you have to tell him.”

She frowns up at you, her expression sobering. “Tell him?”

“He’s about to marry you, Hayun. That’s a big freaking deal…you have to tell him tomorrow morning before anything else happens.”

The laugh that bubbles from her lips is anything but humorous. “I-I can’t do that! He’ll hate me. He’ll call the wedding off!” She shoves out of your lap and stares at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“If Jungkook truly loves you and says you’re his true mate, I don’t see that happening. But, he deserves to know. You have to know that. Either you tell him now, or he finds out years from now, and then it’ll be so much worse,” you try to reason with her.

“He doesn’t have to know!” she whisper-yells, her tears turning from sad to angry in an instant.

You shake your head, unable to believe what you’re hearing from her. “This isn’t right, Hayun. You can’t go into a marriage with someone with secrets like that!”

“It’s not like it’ll happen again. I’m not going to cheat on him while we’re married. Please,” she begs, her face once more softening into saddened anguish. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“He deserves to know, Hayun,” you whisper, remembering your own keen sting of betrayal from many years ago. There is a reason you don’t date much. “You say it won’t happen again?” you ask, trying to buy yourself some time to process everything Hayun just told you.

Her silence is deafening, and you think she’s about to not answer you the way you hope, but, finally, she murmurs, “No. Never. I swear it.”

“Okay. Okay, good. But, he still needs to know.”

Just because you’ve never actually met Jungkook, it doesn’t mean you don’t care for him. He’s the one who puts a smile on Hayun’s face when you can’t. He’s the reason she’s as happy as she is…or has been? Now, you’re not so sure. But, what you are certain about is that Hayun is far too drunk right now to know up from down and is just having a moment of raw vulnerability.

“Are you going to tell him?” she asks, voice a hoarse whisper.

You chew your bottom lip for a moment before slowly shaking your head. Thinking about it, even if you didn’t care for Jungkook, he still deserves to know on pure principle. “No. I won’t tell him.” She lets out a soft sigh of relief, which has you tacking on, “Because it’s not my place to tell him, it’s yours.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “Okay.” She doesn’t say anything more beyond that, falling into a listless stupor, all of her energy sapped from the quick argument and endless cocktails from the bar.

After you wrestle her out of her clothes and put on a long nightgown, she tucks easily into bed. You leave a glass of water on the bedside table for her, then exit the room and head to your own.

A pang of uncertainty refuses to quell in the pit of your stomach. You toss and turn most of the night, falling into a fitful sleep just before the sun begins to kiss the horizon. It’s going to be a long day…a battle of wills you never saw coming.

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook

Today is the big day, and Jungkook couldn’t be happier. Nothing could possibly bring him down from the high he’s feeling. Not even the fact that he is unable to find the cufflinks that were passed down to him by his father.

“Did you check the pockets of all your pants?” Jimin, Jungkook’s best friend, asks from where he’s lounging in one of the chairs on the other side of Jungkook’s hotel room.

“Yes,” he mutters, dumping his entire suitcase onto the bed to rifle through it once again. “I remember putting them with the pile of Hayun’s—oh fuck.”

“That’s great,” Taehyung sighs. “So my sister probably has them.” He checks his watch. “We don’t really have time to go on a scavenger hunt through her room. Jimin and I are supposed to meet the photographer to get started on some of the bride and groomsmen shots.”

Jungkook purses his lips and rakes his hands through his hair as he thinks of a solution. “I’d go look myself, but what if I run into Hayun between here and there? She specifically requested that we not see each other until the ceremony.”

Taehyung hums lightly. “I think I have an idea. The other girls don’t meet for pictures until after we’re done. So…yeah…okay…done,” he murmurs, tapping away at his phone screen. “If they’re in Hayun’s things, they’ll be delivered to you soon.”

“Thanks, Taehyung, you’re a lifesaver.”

Minutes later, Jungkook finds himself alone, Taehyung and Jimin having gone to meet with the photographer. Somewhere out there, beyond the confines of his room, his fiancee is probably smiling and laughing as she poses in front of the camera. If only Jungkook could see through walls. He’d give anything for even just a little glimpse of his bride-to-be.

When Jungkook first met Hayun almost six years ago, he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to track her scent. The meeting he was heading for was instantly forgotten, replaced by a visceral need to discover the source of that titillating aroma that had his hindbrain firing on all cylinders.

Never before had Jungkook experienced something so…primal. It was both alarming and utterly fascinating. Amongst the harsh scents of car exhaust and the warm notes of roasted coffee, Jungkook wove his way through the crowd on the sidewalk to the doors of a little cafe; Hayun was inside, ordering a matcha tea to-go, and the rest was history.

Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to stop daydreaming and fiddling with his shirt's empty cuffs and focus on putting together the rest of his suit.

The scent hits Jungkook a moment before the sound of a soft knock reaches his ears. He’s standing in the ensuite bathroom, mid-skin care routine. Wiping his wet fingers off onto a towel, he draws in a deep breath to confirm the aroma wafting to him from beyond the door of his room.

A roguish smirk quirks up one side of his mouth as he exits the bathroom and moves across the room. Unable to help himself, he opens the door. “Hayun,” he chuckles, fingers wrapping around the doorknob, “I thought we agreed that you…you are not Hayun.” The words tumble from his suddenly numb lips, rasping past his too-dry tongue.

“Umm, no. Not Hayun, sorry. You’re Jungkook?”

The woman standing before him is clearly not his fiancee. The woman’s purple gown is familiar, Jungkook knowing it’s what Hayun chose for her attending party. You’re a friend of Hayun, clearly, yet you smell exactly like Hayun…if Hayun smelled like Hayun times a thousand. The fragrance slams into his olfactory system, and the edges of his vision grow blurry a moment before he shakes his head and steadies himself with a hand on the doorjamb.

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice raspy with his suddenly dry throat. Revelations pounding him right between the eyes, washing through his body and keying right into his most basic of instincts.

Jungkook watches as your nostrils flare, and he knows it’s in that moment that you register his cedar and lavadin scent; the scent that marks him for what—who—he is.

“Jungkook,” you repeat his name, and he wants to howl with delight at how it sounds coming from your lips. “No. You can’t…it’s not—” your voice cuts off a second before you drop the small, black leather box you were holding and turn, disappearing in a flash of violet tulle and silk.

🥀🥀🥀

“Stop! Wait, please!” The shout of your name follows you down the hall, but you’re too focused on getting as far away from him and the feelings threatening to overwhelm you as you can.

“No, no, no,” you chant under your breath as you move as swiftly as the slippered feet will allow you to go without tripping yourself up.

It’s clearly not fast enough. It only takes a few frantic beats of your heart before a firm grip on your elbow draws you to a stumbling halt. The touch is electric, and your skin flushes with goosebumps at the heated contact.

“Don’t run,” Jungkook pants. “Please.”

You wretch your arm from his grip and whirl on him, a sharp remark ready on the tip of your tongue. Only, it dies there, never to be uttered, as your heart thumps violently in response to the look on his face—pure anguish.

Your voice is thread-thin as you finally manage to get words out, “This can’t be happening.”

Jungkook’s brow twitches, his lips tucked between his teeth. His emotions are stark on his face, and the conflict is raw and bare to you. Clearly, he’s warring the same as you, maybe even more so.

“Why do you smell like Hayun?” he asks, his voice soft in contrast to the raging storm you see in his eyes. “Why do you smell more like my true mate than she even does? Is this some wicked, cruel prank?”

You shake your head, intentionally drawing a breath through your mouth in hopes of saving your nose from another assault of his perfect scent. But, instead, his flavor laces over your tongue and slides down your throat to sit like a knot in your belly. You might as well have licked a stripe up his neck for all the good that did.

“I-I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to keep the pool of saliva under your tongue from dripping down your chin.

Jungkook steps closer to you, leading with his nose. He sniffs the air around you and something must not sit well with what he discovers because he rears back and bares his teeth. “Of course,” he mutters as his eyes drop to your left wrist.

Your eyes track his movement as he scoops up your wrist in a loose grip, and you realize it’s the bracelet there that has his attention. Everything clicks into place, and you feel like the faintest breeze could sweep you away with how lightheaded you’re feeling at this moment.

“We traded,” you whisper as if speaking low enough means the admission won’t utterly destroy the world as you know it.

“She’s not my true mate,” he states, voice as low as yours, fevered and quiet. “You are.”

Those words punch you in the chest, nearly taking you to your knees. If it weren’t for the hold Jungkook has on your wrist, you’re sure you’d be in a heap on the floor. As it is, he catches his other arm around your waist as you sway on the spot.

“Y-you shouldn’t.” Your protest is stilted, the words feeling robotic and unnatural as you gingerly press a hand against the arm that’s angled around your ribs. It was your intention to push his touch away, but the most you accomplish is flexing your fingers against the smooth cotton covering his thick bicep.

Somehow, you find yourself back in the room you had fled from just a few minutes ago. Jungkook settled you on the bed and is now pressing a chilled water bottle into your hands.

He kneels before you, headless of putting wrinkles in his black dress slacks. He’s wearing a thin white undershirt, his starched white button-up undone over it. The cuffs of the sleeves flop as he brings his hands into his lap and picks at the edges of his thumbnails.

Your eyes rove the room, catching on the black leather box still sitting on the floor by the door where you dropped it. Inside the box is nestled a pair of golden cufflinks—a pair you now understand have been passed down through the generations of Jeon men.

Absently, you press your thumb to your phone, unlocking it to reveal the text message that has irrevocably changed your life forever.

If you had known Taehyung’s text message requesting help would have led you to where you are right now, you’d probably have ignored it.

Yet, at the same time, if you had, you’d probably have had this revelation with Jungkook in the middle of the ceremony, and it would have caused all sorts of untoward chaos. No, it’s far better that it’s happening now instead of later. Maybe you can get ahead of this and fix it somehow. Though…

“Hey? You okay?” Jungkook interrupts your thoughts. “Fuck, that’s a stupid question. Sorry.”

“Huh? Oh. Umm…yeah. I don’t—what do we do now?” You turn your phone over, finger ghosting over the power button to lock the screen once more.

Jungkook sighs, and you can’t help watching the rise and fall of his shoulders, framing the swell of his defined chest with the action. He’s an exquisite specimen of masculinity, and even if it weren’t for the musky notes of his scent that mark him as your true mate, you’d find him devastatingly attractive.

“We need to tell Hayun. I c-can’t…I can’t marry her. Not when I’ve found—” he cuts off, wincing as his voice breaks. “I should go and find her. Now, before this can go any further. I’m sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll find you later, okay?”

“Wait,” you call after him. He stops halfway to the door and glances back at you over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t we tell her together?”

Jungkook chews the inside of his cheek a moment, his eyes flicking over your face as he thinks through your suggestion. Slowly, he nods. “Yeah, maybe that’s for the best.”

There is palpable tension between you and Jungkook as you follow behind him out of the main building. He texted Jimin, knowing he’d be the most reliable with his phone on him, asking where the photos were currently taking place.

It only took a few minutes for Jimin to respond that they were almost finished but were currently capturing some group shots on the walking path by the lake on the backside of the property.

You’re vaguely aware of where the lake is located, having given the map of the grounds that was posted on the backside of your room’s door a cursory look the day you arrived. It’s a relatively short distance, yet it feels like miles with the weight of pure dread sitting firmly on your shoulders.

At least it’s not a feeling you’re experiencing alone. Jungkook is right there with you, and you can clearly see the unease in the stiff way his body moves. The tips of his fingers twitch back in your direction every few steps like he’s fighting off the urge to slip them between your own.

The first person you catch sight of is Yoona, the photographer. She’s squatting in the grass, her large DSLR camera held up to her face, as she captures candid moments of Hayun, Taehyung, and Jimin repositioning themselves along the lake's edge.

Your heart squeezes hard at how beautiful Hayun is in her form-fitting silk ivory, off-the-shoulder wedding gown, the lacy bell sleeves fluttering around her hands. Her head is thrown back, the peel of her carefree laughter carrying to you and further crumbling your soul into a million pieces. You ache, not just for the desire to draw closer to your true mate, but for the inevitable aftermath of what is about to happen.

Taehyung is the first to notice you and Jungkook. The smile on his face slowly disappears, replaced by a concerned frown. Hayun catches his expression and follows his line of sight. Her gaze sears into you, and you feel like you might combust into a cloud of ash at any second with the irritation contained in her pretty brown eyes.

“What’s going on?” Hayun exclaims, throwing her hands up in a frustrated manner as she stalks towards you and Jungkook. “It’s not time for your photos yet,” she tells you before her eyes swing to Jungkook. “What happened to not seeing me before the wedding? That was your rule!”

“Hayun, we need to talk.”

“Talk about wh—” she cuts off, her question turning into a gasp. Your wide eyes flick to you. “You told him?”

“What? No!”

Your protest rings out at the same time that Jungkook says, “She’s my true mate.”

A breeze kicks up, sweeping from behind you and tossing errant strands of hair across Hayun’s forehead. You’d give anything for the power to pluck the wind from the air, shove it back…keep it from showering her with yours and Jungkook’s combined scents—a blatant confirmation echoing the words Jungkook just let loose.

Hayun stiffens. Her jaw goes rigid, and her face pales as her nostrils flare. It’s a moment that will be forever written across the band of your friendship. Betrayal flashes through her eyes before morphing into something akin to somber resignation.

“Hayun,” Jungkook begins. “I don’t—we didn’t…I’m sorry. What do we do?” He spreads his hands out in front of himself in a helpless manner.

By this time, Jimin and Taehyung have come up from behind Hayun, faces wary as they take in the scene with growing clarity. You look to Taehyung, hoping he can see the silent plea in your eyes.

“Explain,” Hayun says simply. Despite how collected she seems, you can see the subtle tremble in her hands and the way the muscles in her neck continue to flex and strain as she clenches and grinds her teeth.

Jungkook launches into recounting the events that brought you to his room and broke the proverbial dam. “We—we had no idea. I swear this is the first time we’ve ever met, and gods, the bracelets…” Jungkook trails off, a pained sound rumbling from his chest.

“Is this a joke?” Taehyung asks accusingly, and it’s like a barb to your heart.

“We wouldn’t do that.” Your croaked statement draws Hayun’s attention.

Hayun sniffles, her chin jerking a little higher into the air. “My nose tells me one thing, but my heart tells me another. Did you know about this last night? Is that why you pushed so hard for me to tell him?” The last part is whispered, meant only for you, which hurts even more.

“Hayun, no! You know that’s impossible. I couldn’t have known.”

“Tell me what?” Jungkook asks, having heard despite her whisper, his eyes swiveling between you and Hayun.

You shake your head at him, not wanting to throw further fuel on the fire. “Hayun, please, believe me.”

A pregnant moment full of thick tension passes before it fizzles, and Hayun shakes her head, not in a dismissive fashion but in gentle acceptance. “I believe you,” she tells you. “I guess…I guess there won’t be a wedding in four hours unless you two want…” She trails off, a bittersweet smile tugging at her cherry red painted lips.

Jungkook blanches, wide eyes landing on you. “What? Us? No. I mean, sorry…but—”

Hayun holds up her hand, quelling Jungkook’s flustered response. “I was teasing, Koo, trying to lighten the mood. Um,” she pauses, absently twisting the diamond engagement ring around her finger before slowly slipping it off and closing a fist around it. “Can we talk, though? There’s something I needed to tell you today anyway.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says wearily.

“Tae, do you mind…?” Hayun asks, not even having to fill in the blanks. Her brother instantly steps into his role as protector and savior.

“Don’t worry about anything. I’ll make some phone calls,” Taehyung assures her before grabbing Jimin’s arm and starting back down the walking path.

“I’ll just—” you thumb over your shoulder in the direction Tae and Jimin just disappeared in “—be in my room.”

“Wait,” Hayun calls, pulling your retreat up short. “Come here.” She opens her arms, her hands opening and closing in grabby motions. “Please.”

A sob cracks from your throat as you throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “I’m so sorry, Hayun. I’m so sorry.”

“Hush. None of that. This isn’t anything we could have predicted or stopped from happening. If anything, maybe this is life’s way of getting back at me for what I did to him,” she whispers in your ear. “This is how it’s meant to be.”

Hayun smoothes a hand over your back and releases you. She steps back, using the back of a finger to lift the tears from your cheeks, and gives you a watery smile.

You’re not sure you can speak without completely losing yourself, so you just give her a tight nod and continue back on your way down the path. A part of you wants to hear what she has to say to Jungkook, to be there to soothe any hurts or aches…which is a startling realization that you’d not just tend to Hayun but to Jungkook, too. That internal, visceral part of you yearns to turn on your heel and…protect what’s yours.

It’s an odd revelation to think of Jungkook as yours. Well, yours unless either of you reject the bond. Though, that thought makes your stomach pitch and roil. You have to trail a hand along the wall in the hall leading to your room to keep yourself from curling over your abdomen at just the idea.

Once back in your room, you’re unsure what to do with yourself, so you absently start to gather your belongings and pack them up. Every few minutes, you find yourself pausing to stare at the door, ears pricking at the slightest sound from beyond it.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting. Whether it’s Hayun coming to your room so the two of you can cry together or Jungkook coming to claim y—uh, you shove that thought aside quickly because now is not the time. At. All.

The time for the wedding comes and passes without a single knock on your door nor a text or call on your phone. You’re tempted to go looking. For what, you’re not entirely sure—an answer, maybe, some sort of direction on what you should do now.

Finally, after hours of sitting in silence with just your thoughts for company, a soft knock sounds at your door. The long hem of your dress nearly trips you up in your haste to make it to the door. It swings open, and for some reason, your stomach drops, the flutter of disappointment heavy and unexpected.

“Hey, beautiful,” Taehyung says, his voice soft and full of emotion. “Mind if I come in?” 

His necktie is loose, and the top button of his dress shirt is undone. There is a tension in his eyes that wasn’t there earlier. It makes your chest ache.

“Sure,” you say, stepping back and letting him into your room.

Taehyung sighs, perches on the end of your bed, and props his elbows on his knees. His chin rests on an upturned fist, his other hand dangling between his legs, clutching his phone.

He opens his mouth, a single word the only thing coming out, “So.”

“So,” you parrot.

“Hayun wants me to take her home…alone. I’m not sure what all she and Jungkook talked about, but I think they’re at least amicable in agreeing that it would be best if he gave her a few days at home alone before they start the process of separating their lives.” You’re not sure if the bitter tinge in your chest is hurt because Hayun isn’t the one telling you this or because now you have to find your own way to the airport. As if reading your thoughts, Taehyung continues, “I can be back in two days, maybe sooner, depending on traffic. Perhaps they’ll let you extend your stay. If not, I can talk to Jimin—”

“No, Tae, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of Hayun, make sure she’s okay...as okay as she can be, at least. Fuck.” The last word comes out choked, and you gnash your teeth on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting the angry tears out. You have no right to be angry. Hell, you’re not even sure why you’re angry. It just seems like the easiest emotion to feel right now, the only one that doesn’t leave you feeling like your world is slowly imploding.

“Hey,” Taehyung says, bringing one of his big hands up to cup the side of your face. His thumb prods at the swell of your cheek, causing you to release the tension in your jaw. “Hayun isn’t the only one I’m worried about here.”

“I’m fine—I will be fine,” you amend. “I promise. I think I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I’m mad at myself for ruining Hayun’s big day. I can’t believe this is happening at all. This…this just doesn’t happen. This is the kind of shit you read about in books, it’s not supposed to be real life.”

And there it is, you surmise—the truth of the matter. None of what’s happened makes sense. It honestly belongs on the pages of a book or in a movie script, not in your real life. It still feels surreal. If it weren’t for the subtle, lingering ache you instinctively know is associated with finding your true mate but not allowing yourself to fully accept it, you’d think this was all some elaborate party trick or impractical joke.

Taehyung smiles at you, but the unease in his eyes can’t be masked that easily. “I’m not sure what to say or what to do. You’re right. This isn’t a situation I think anyone was prepared for or ever thought possible, actually. But, here we are…and we have to face it the best way we can.” He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. “I'll tell you what: I’ll text Jimin—he’s a good guy, I think you’ll enjoy his company—and ask him to meet you in the lounge. Have a few drinks, wind down, and try to relax as best you can.”

“Sure,” you say lamely, trying to muster up at least a little bit of enthusiasm.

“That’s my girl.” Taehyung offers you another smile, this one not so tense. “Here, I have something for you.” He fishes into his pant pocket and produces a familiar thin silver chain, a tiny crescent moon dangling near one end.

The sight has your spine straightening. “Right, of course.” You quickly thumb open the clasp on the bracelet around your wrist, letting it fall from your skin for the first time since you put it on when Hayun gave it to you all those years ago. It never felt right to take it off…not until now.

Taehyung helps you swap the bracelet with the one in his hand. The metal feels cold against your skin and you immediately miss the subtle fragrance of Hayun’s scent clinging to your wrist. Though, you suppose that’s what has gotten you both into this mess to begin with. Taehyung explains in soft words how Jungkook explained to Hayun about the scent mix-up with the bracelets—such a silly, seemingly insignificant thing…the catalyst to spark such a colossal moment.

“I’m going to get on the road with Hayun, but I’ll call you as soon as we get to her place and check in on you, okay?”

Sitting at the bar with Jungkook’s best friend seemed like a good idea when Taehyung first presented it to you. But, at the time, you weren’t connecting the dots that Jimin was Jungkook’s best friend. He was just Jimin, the guy that just so happened also to be part of the wedding party that you had met in passing briefly, but he seemed like a good enough person. Now, however, you feel all the awkward tension radiating right between your shoulder blades, emphasized by the silence lingering between the two of you.

You traded in your lilac dress for jeans and a light silk blouse, canvas slip-ons in place of your slippers, yet no matter how comfortable you know your clothing is, you can’t shake the prickling discomfort eating away at the back of your neck.

“Want another?” Jimin asks, nodding to your mostly watered-down rum and coke. It’s barely late afternoon, and as much as Taehyung’s suggestion of a drink sounded like just what you needed, you’ve found yourself not in the mood to drink after all.

“Um, nah. I’m okay, thanks.”

“Cool. Okay. I’ll be right back.” Jimin drums his fingers on the tabletop and pops his lips before giving you a slight head nod and pushing up from his chair.

You watch as he saunters to the long bar, his crescent moon tattoo on the nape of his neck peeking out from the top of his collar, and props his elbows onto the shiny top. His smile is flirty and casual as the bartender, a beautiful woman with long, inky tresses and fiery red lipstick, sidles up in front of him.

They’re too far away for you to hear their conversation, but her tinkling laughter carries across the space, and you know it might be a while before Jimin returns to your table.

Which you’re okay with. Considering you know you’re not exactly pleasant company right now, you don’t blame him one bit. You glance down at your phone, once again reading the last text message Hayun sent you not too long ago.

Eunseo stopped by the lounge around the same time Jimin showed up. If her smile and lingering hug were any indicator, she clearly had a thing for him. She gave you a small wave goodbye before giving Jimin another hug and heading out. Apparently, she was going to follow Taehyung and Hayun back to Hayun and Jungkook’s place to help Hayun with whatever she needed over the next few days.

Does it hurt that your best friend is relying on someone else, her new best friend? Yes. Do you also understand why? Also, yes, but that doesn’t make the sting hurt any less.

You’re just about to give up and retreat back to your room, which the front desk still hasn’t given you a definitive answer about whether or not your stay can be extended while you wait for Tae, when a shadow falls across your table a second before.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Jungkook asks in a low voice.

He fidgets, threading and unthreading his fingers together while he waits for your answer. The suit he had half on earlier is gone, and in its place is a dark pair of jeans, the knees worn fashionably, and an oversized white graphic t-shirt. Black sneakers peek out from the rounded bottoms of his pant legs.

You clear your throat, forcing your eyes away from his and instead on the glass sitting in a puddle of condensation on the table before you. “Oh, I—uh, I was actually about to go. You’re welcome to the table, though. Jimin was—” You cut off, realizing Jimin is no longer in the lounge at all. “Well, he was here,” you add with a frown.

Jungkook scratches a hand across the back of his neck and gives you a hesitant smile. “Yeah, he texted me. He went…well, that doesn’t matter. Could we, um…can we talk?”

“Yes.” The response is out of your mouth before he even finishes asking. “Please, I think I’d like that,” you say, nodding toward the open seat across from you.

A shaky breath rattles from Jungkook as he eases into the empty seat. “Have you talked to Hayun at all?” he asks after a moment’s hesitation.

“A text message, but that’s all. I’m not sure she wants to talk to me right now.” Needing something to do with your hands, you trace a finger along the edge of the water pooled around the bottom of your glass and use your other to poke more drops on the side of your cup, making them race down to join the growing puddle.

Jungkook nods, his lips pursing thoughtfully. “She told me what happened last night. Her confession.” That draws your attention back to him, and you wait, fingers still on the glass, intent on hearing what he says next. “I thought I’d be angrier finding out the woman I’ve been with for years—the woman I was hours away from marrying—had cheated on me…but I’m not. For the life of me, I’m not mad at her…even though I know I should be.”

“How do you feel?”

Maybe it’s none of your business, but you have to ask.

Blowing out a breath, Jungkook slides one of his hands across the table and, giving you plenty of time to protest or pull away, slowly slides his fingers between yours, effectively joining his hand with yours. It’s the first time hand-holding has felt so intimate yet wholly innocent.

“Relieved, I think,” he finally says. “Grateful, maybe? Hayun was hurt. As she has every right to be, but she said she also felt relief, too. I think, as much as she said she loved me, she was still holding back even in the end.” With a rueful shake of his head, he tacks on, “We were just a disaster waiting to happen, held together only by the thin chain of a bracelet. We would have shattered eventually.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop to where your fingers are entwined with his, trailing up to your wrist to land on the object he just spoke of.

“I’m relieved, too,” you whisper. Your eyes meet his as he glances up, and you’re instantly captivated.

This is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to really study Jungkook. His hair is tousled like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. You suppose he probably had been and wonder if that’s one of his nervous ticks.

The bow of his lips is prominent and draws your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his lips, making small mental notes at everything you see, like the tiny beauty mark under his bottom lip. His straight nose leads you to his expressive eyes, so dark and full of secrets you want to be privy to.

To say Jungkook is handsome would be a gross understatement. You’re not sure if it’s the fact he’s your true mate or just simply a gorgeous being, but he is pleasing to the eyes, that’s for sure.

You mentally kick yourself for thinking such thoughts about your best friend’s almost-husband after everything that has just happened. It’s not in good taste to entertain these thoughts so soon, right? True mate or not.

Yet, you can’t shove those thoughts away completely.

“Where did you go just now?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head and studying you intently.

Not wanting to explain yourself and the thoughts you were just having, you choose to ask him a question instead. “So, what now?”

You’re thankful Jungkook doesn’t push you to answer. He shifts in his seat and withdraws his fingers from between yours.

“I think we start with…” he trails off, a playful smile tugging up the side of his mouth as he holds the hand he pulled back in the air in front of you in offering. “Hi, I’m Jungkook.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you smile. A laugh escapes you, and you instantly feel a thousand times lighter with that simple action.

As you take his hand back into yours, allowing yourself to truly savor the feel of his skin against yours, you realize that no matter what happens with Hayun or the fact that you live thousands of miles apart from Jungkook…everything is going to be okay and maybe you wouldn’t have ignored Taehyung’s text after all.

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook, 3 months later

The flight was long but worth it. Jungkook stretches as he climbs out of the Uber he took from the airport. You would have picked him up. In fact, you are supposed to pick him up…just, not until next week. He decided to surprise you by coming early. He hopes you don’t mind.

Time seemed to drag to a near stand-still following that fateful day at the bed and breakfast where he was so sure he’d be joining his life with Hayun’s officially. No one could have anticipated what actually went down that day. But, in the end, he and Hayun parted ways on pleasant terms, and it’s actually thanks to her that he’s here right now, a week early.

Jungkook was worried that with everything that happened, yours and Hayun’s friendship might suffer. But, surprisingly—and thankfully—you guys have been getting on great. Hayun has been looking at work prospects in Thailand but, from what you’ve told Jungkook, is planning to visit you and Taehyung for Christmas.

It’s been three months, and not a day has gone by that Jungkook hasn’t talked to you in some capacity. From the moment he offered to be your ride to the airport, and you agreed, he’s thought about nothing other than getting on a plane and following you. The draw to you is just that strong.

You’ve expressed similar feelings, already having planned a return trip to Seoul next month. Neither Jungkook nor you have really talked about what the future holds or how to even begin to navigate it. But Jungkook hopes that during the week he is here, you can both begin to figure that out.

Giddiness makes his tattooed fingers shake as he reaches out and grasps the brass knocker on your door. He gives it a rap against the thick wood and waits. Jungkook counts the breaths as his anticipation rises. It’s only three and a half exhales before he hears the soft pad of your feet on the other side of the door.

Jungkook can imagine you pressing up onto your tip toes in order to peer through the peephole. He’d pay money to be able to see the look on your face when you see it’s him. Not being able to see your face doesn’t take away from the dopamine rush he gets when the sound of your surprised squeal sounds through the door.

“Jungkook!” Your shout is followed by the frantic sound of you disengaging the locks on your door before you swing it open and launch yourself at him. “What the fuck are you doing here? Oh, my gods! Why didn’t you tell me? You’re here!”

It feels good to laugh, but it feels even better to have you in his arms finally. The brief embrace he shared with you at the airport when he dropped you off was not enough and is what drove him to try and come sooner than planned.

Jungkook savors the warmth of your soft body pressed against his, your arms tight around his neck. Running one of his hands up your spine, he clasps the back of your neck and uses his hold there to angle your head away from his neck so he can look you in the face.

“Surprise,” he whispers. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You sigh dreamily, your eyes fluttering closed for a second like you’re savoring the feeling of being in his arms. “Pleasant surprise,” you murmur with a smile on your face.

Jungkook can’t help himself. He wants so badly to know if your smile tastes as good as he thinks it will. The press of his lips against yours causes you to melt against him, a throaty sound escaping around the intrusion of his tongue as he works it between your lips.

“Your taste,” he groans, forcing his mouth away from yours before the allure of you can drive him completely mad. Who is he kidding? He’s already there. “I need more.”

🥀🥀🥀

Those words do something to you.

I need more.

They echo the thoughts you’ve been harboring for the last three months. You’ve ached with those words, desperately willing yourself to be patient and let it happen when it’s meant to happen.

But, fuck, it feels so good to have him in your arms, to have his mouth brushing against yours. He tastes divine, a warm sweetness that compliments the musk of his scent that is slowly wrapping itself around you.

“Take me. Take it all,” you urge, completely baring yourself to him, body, mind, and soul. “I’m yours.”

It’s a frenzy, the frantic discarding of clothing. Your fingers work to free him of his jeans while also helping him with the criss-cross straps of your lounging romper. You don’t care that you’re still standing by your front door, bared down to your underwear. The only thing you’re focusing on now is how Jungkook holds you at arm's length and drinks you in from head to toe.

“You…are…everything.” The way he whispers those words crawls under your skin, rooting itself deep in your being. You feel sexy…desired, and unbelievably empty—your body clenches, the ache deep between your thighs. You’ve never been so turned on from just taking your clothes off before, from whispered words and a heated look.

Jungkook allows you to undress him as slow or as fast as you want. You try to take your time and savor every inch of skin you expose. But, you can barely contain yourself when you get to his jeans, shoving them unceremoniously down his thighs with your eyes locked on the many planes and angles of his toned chest and stomach.

Your fingers ghost over his skin, eliciting goosebumps in their wake as you explore the smooth and lush expanse of his shoulders and down his arms. Without needing to say anything more, he gathers you into his arms and covers your mouth with his once more.

It’s a miracle you make it to your bedroom. But, seeing Jungkook sprawled out on your bed is a sight you’ll never forget, with his lowered lids and bottom lip caught between his teeth. You want to taste every inch of him, from the tips of his ears down to the defined muscles of his calves.

Now, though, your gaze focuses on the front of his tented boxer briefs. The dark grey material has darkened even further, where you can see the distinct outline of the head of his cock. Saliva pools in your mouth.

You crawl on the bed, knees slotting between his, your hands on either side of his hips. With your eyes locked on his, you lean down and mouth gently at the wetness. You moan at the flavor of him, your tongue peeking out to seek more.

“Fuck,” you curse. “You taste so good.”

Jungkook lets out a quick breath. “You can’t say shit like that, baby girl. You’re going to make me lose it.” He flicks his eyes up to the ceiling, his lips moving like he’s sending up a silent prayer, before looking back down at you. “You have maybe three seconds before I can’t hold back any longer and tear that ass up.”

You chuckle softly, pouting out your lips in a faux sullen manner. “Yes, sir.”

That earns a growl from Jungkook that has heat racing down your spine as you hook your fingers into the band of his Calvin Klein’s and pull them down. He lifts his hips, helping you free him from their confines.

His cock stands so pretty before you, the full heft bobbing against his belly, smearing a pearl of precum against his golden skin. You dive in, licking at the sticky mess before taking the tip between your lips and lavishing your tongue over his slit.

Jungkook fists the sheets, a litany of curses falling from his lips. “Please,” he chokes.

You keep your eyes locked on his as you inch your way down his length, your jaw forcing itself wider to accommodate as much of him as you can. The blunt head of his cock presses against the back of your throat. You take a steadying breath in through your nose before forcing yourself a little further until your throat constricts around him and you have to pull back.

The second your mouth leaves his cock, saliva stringing from your lips to his tip, Jungkook grabs you and hauls you up over him. You laugh, loving the heat emanating from his body as yours covers his.

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

His strong hands land on your hips and tangle in the band of your panties. “I need these off. Please. I need you. I want to feel you…be inside you.”

You want that, too, you realize, your body already primed and begging for it. The sweet, fragrant notes of your arousal saturate the air, mixing with Jungkook’s to paint a picture of hedonism and wanton desires.

The rest of your clothes come off, your bra and panties are tossed to the side, leaving you utterly bare to him. Your inner thighs slide like velvet over his hips as you move your body against his until you can feel the press of the head of his cock against your entrance.

You wrap a hand around his base, angling him perfectly. It’s a slow descent into madness, the lowering of your body onto his. His eyes bore into yours, pouring out everything that has been building to this moment, this pinnacle that will forever throttle you onto a different path for your future—with him. You can feel every perfect inch slide along your walls as they adjust and welcome him. It’s like sliding home; he is the perfect fit for your body, filling you completely.

The pace you set, at first, is languid. An easy rise and fall of your hips as you both learn the body of the other. Jungkook’s hands mold around your breasts, his thumbs caressing over the pert points of your nipples.

“You feel so good,” you tell him, emphasizing your words with a generous roll of your hips. “So much better than I imagined.”

“You imagined it often?” he asks, a teasing tone to his words.

With the amount of teasing photos and videos you’ve shared with each other over the last few weeks, he knows you have. You can tell he’s just giving you a hard time. That’s fine, because you can…

Jungkook throws his head back as you arch yours, letting his cock hit that special place inside that has you both seeing stars. “Fuck!” His hands drop to your hips, landing with a satisfying smack. His grip tightens, dimpling the supple flesh around his fingers. “Can I knot you?” he asks with a breathless moan. You’ve never taken an alpha’s knot. The idea has your body pulsing around his, flooding slick onto his pelvis as you continue to roll your hips. “Fuck, baby girl, do you like that idea? You want to take my knot like a good girl?”

You can’t even form a coherent thought, much less answer him. The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a panting keen, your chin jerking up and down as you frantically nod your want.

Jungkook braces his feet against the mattress and uses his grip on your hips as leverage to thrust upward, sending you forward onto your hands. He’s relentless, pounding into you from below to the point your eyes roll back, and you have to squeeze them shut. Tiny pinpricks of light burst behind your lids as your body coils tighter than ever before.

You cry out as he sends you over the edge, your body careening into an unfathomable abyss of pleasure. The sounds coming from around his cock as it pounds into you are slick and obscene, debauched yet wholly satisfying. 

“Alpha, need your knot,” you mewl, your lips finding the triskelion tattoo over Jungkook’s left pec muscle. You nibble at it, your teeth sinking softly into the skin.

“Oh, baby, fuck…fuck…Fuuuckkk!” Jungkook shouts, the sound turning into a guttural snarl as his body goes primal.

He seats himself completely inside of you with one final, deliberate thrust, and then you can feel the swell of his knot capture within you. It hurts, your pleasure turning into a moment of pain and panic. You squirm, trying to lift your hips from his, but the clasp of his hands on your body won’t let you go far. You whine, “J-Jungkook.”

“I know, baby girl, I know. Relax. Let your body do what it needs to do.”

It’s like those words unlock some inner Omega part of your brain, and suddenly you feel your body rush with endorphins and dopamine as it accepts the thick jets of his cum now flooding in. Like administering a drug, it’s such a fast transition that you feel lightheaded and giddy, sheepish and almost silly over your moment of panic.

“Gods, that feels so…good.” You wiggle in his arms, gasping as his knot pulls tight. You want more, need more of that feeling…need more of his cum. “More, Alpha, please.”

Jungkook pants, a tired smile on his face. You can feel it when his cock pulses inside you, dribbling even more liquid heat into your body in answer to your plea. “That’s my pretty girl,” Jungkook coos, brushing a hand across your forehead. “You’re so beautiful taking my knot, full of my cum.” He curses softly, reverently, and another gush of heat fills your body. “I’m going to take such good care of you. I swear it.”

You fall into a half-sleep, content and sated as you are. There are no worries about the future, nor the past. You are happy…all thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks.

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2024-11-05 ColorMePurplex2

[venmondiese]

WEIRD HOBBIES

-ˋˏ| summary: you meet a guy in a bar and decide to go back to his place, as weird as he might seem.

✧ | Pairing: Martin (in the modern world) x reader

✧ | word count: 2.3k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f/m receiving), 69 position, Martin is weird as hell but a pussy eating champ! Not beta proof<3

“So… what’s your name again?” You ask curiously, walking behind the man that holds your hand, guiding you through his home, and to his bedroom. You don’t complain, though, since you were out just for that; to get home with a handsome man. 

There was this band that you never heard of playing near your house, and it took little for your brain to convince you to go. If something good came from it, you would get fucked. If something bad came from it, well… you hoped for the first one. 

That’s how you ended up here, following a dude, which looks from head to toe like a metal head. His hair goes to his shoulders, coal black, which you assume he dyed it, and some graphic shirt with the words ‘Knotfest’ and all, wearing some metal stuff that you didn’t really know much about.

And you looked like a rock groupie, with a leather top that practically squeezed your tits and a dark jeans miniskirt with some boots. Yet, this mysterious man was still taller than you, and that was quite exciting, and a bit arousing.

“Eh, Martin” he says nonchalantly, as he grabs your hand, his bracelets really end up the detail of his fit, and you feel really horny now to lay with this dude. “Yours?”

You tell Martin your name, following him as he opens his bedroom door. To be fair, it is tidier than you imagined.

“Sorry the mess” he murmurs, moving the drone and an electric guitar out of his bed. You hum, looking around curiously, to the badly positioned posters, some rock-metal bands that you didn’t know about.

“Is that a snake?” You ask, watching the little head of the reptile in the middle of the dim light coming from outside.

“Uh- no, it’s a lizard” 

A guy with a lizard as a pet. Okay.

“What is its name?” 

“Lizard. I don’t like naming them-” 

Great. 

You look at him with a fake smile. The dick better be good you think, taking out your jacket and leaving it on a chair next to the desk.

“Be careful, spider likes to crawl near there”

You took your jacket off there, and you really hoped that he had a dog called spider because otherwise it would be strange as hell.

“Riiiiight” you say, leaving your jacket in a hanger of his opened closet. Whatever. “So… Apart from having a lizard and a spider… do you maybe also have… a cockroach?”

He lets out a huff, his lips turning upwards as he takes his shirt off. “No” Martin says. “I do have another thing, though, it’s very big”

You try to smile at his corny, cringy words. It’s for the dick. You repeat to yourself: The dick better be good. He better not finish in two minutes. He better knows how to eat pussy.

“Ha. Funny” you say as you start to take off those boots.

“How did ya meet the band?”

“Ehmm… A friend dated the brother of an ex of the bassist. I think” you say watching as he frowns his eyebrows slightly trying to make any sense as he lights up a cigarette. 

“ah, nice” he says as he lays on bed as he smokes the cigarette, taking off his shirt as he remains only in those Adidas jeans of his. “Heard the songs before?”

“Once or twice” you say looking at the CD albums stacked on top of each other messily, and you move to grab a solitude piece of paper, as you can practically feel Martin’s eyes on your ass. “I liked the vocalist, quite handsome, don’t you think?” you unwrap softly the paper, away from Martin’s eyes.

It was an address. It piqued your curiosity.

“Aye, come here” his voice is soft as he extends his hand to turn off the cigarette on the glass ashtray, which has the shape of a dragon.

You turn around and walk toward his bed, and watch how he seems eager to have you. It’s hot to have a man drooling for you like Martin is now. And his erection is the living proof of it; it was obvious against his trousers that he was rock hard. You wondered if he was leaking as well. 

You straddle his lap, a smirk forming on your lips as his hands move immediately to your thighs, cold hands moving slowly up to find their way to your ass. 

“Sit on my face” Martin murmurs, words slightly stuck between his pants

“Hm? What was that?” You ask petulantly, pretending not to have heard. 

“Come on, beautiful, sit on my face” he says, pushing your hips closer to his chest, trying to push your miniskirt up.

“Gotta take my panties off” you say softly to him, watching his lips as he licks them, savouring the ghosting taste of you.

“No, like this” he murmurs, eager to taste you. “I’ll eat you from behind even.” Martin proposes, more desperate than the last time “Please”

You might forgive cheesy comments for his eagerness. You sigh with a wide smirk, turning around as Martin places his big hands around your thighs, dragging your centre closer to his face. 

Eager was the wrong word for it; he was desperate.

His hand moved your panties to the side, and his face almost nuzzled your cunt, before starting to press his tongue on your centre. You could hear his groan of pure delight, his hands caressing the skin of your thighs and ass as he delighted himself. 

“Fuck” you said, but it was as if all the air from your lungs when out in that moan. 

Martin’s hands were keeping you still, not allowing you to move your hips to grind his face as you wanted. You could hear his moans, the way he slurped and nuzzled his face on your cunt. 

He was a pro, eating pussy as if he did it every day (maybe he did, god knows), and he didn’t seem to care for his lack of air in the matter. He was on it, devoted to eating your dripping cunt as if it was his last meal on earth.

Your hands are pressed on his stomach, and he has to forcefully let you go to breathe, and you sigh as you feel his breaths. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” You breathe softly, as you can hear how he pants, catching his breath. 

“A good pussy can make a man go feral, love” he says, moving your panties out of the way as his index and middle finger move to rub against your slit. 

He was cheesy, and it was a bit weird. Yet it couldn’t bother you less, you had been with worse men, and Martin was good in other areas…, well, at least in sex and eating out a pussy. And it was more than average, so you were up to it.

Before he decides to keep on eating you, still caressing your clit as he catches his breath, you lean a bit on his torso, to try to pull down the leather pants, opening the zipper. 

It takes you a bit, yet after accomplishing your mission, your hand grabs his dick to guide it into your warm, eager mouth. 

He was well doted, and hard as a rock. He was leaking, and his tip was a bit pink compared with the rest of his cock. 

God damn you if it didn’t make your mouth drool. Between him eating you out, and his leaking cock, you think you will go insane. He could have cheeky, cringe comments but you could live with it. You couldn’t live without him eating you out or his cock. 

You are as enthusiastic with his cock as he is. Though, you start slower. You take the head on your mouth, sucking on it as you feel him groan against your pussy. It was fucking hot, and it had you moaning on his cock. You didn’t remember the last time your legs were trembling like this, and how much you wanted to feel a dick in your throat. It was a need, a primal need.

Martin was kind and nice, had his things, but god, you need to fuck him. You might even need to have his babies by now. You wouldn’t complain if he came all inside you, filling you with his cum, and making you pregnant. Fuck, it even turned you more on. What was this man doing to you?

You took more of his dick in your mouth, trying to take all of it, not minding if you choke on it. He was hot. More than hot, in truth.

Martin was relentless with his tongue, lapping at your cunt again and again, moaning loudly against it as he could feel how deep you were taking his cock in your mouth. Your hand moved to cup his balls, as your tongue tried to swirl around his tip. It drove him insane. 

It was not long before you started to cum, moaning loudly, his dick slipping from your mouth as your thighs pressed against his face, riding his face and nose as he was making you cum. His tongue was as greedy as him, and he worked with his nose along your slit. And it made you cum hard, rolling your eyes back. “Fuck, Martin, just like that…” You say, hips grinding against his mouth in a desperate need to stretch the feeling a bit more. 

And once you finish, your mouth goes back to his cock, to keep on sucking him off. “Fuck, you feel incredible” he rasped, as you moved forward, closer to his cock and have full access, as Martin’s hips pumped upwards to fuck your mouth. 

You lay on his chest, his face back on the pillow, moaning loudly as you seem to try to drain him completely, deepthroating him as if it was nothing at all.

“Fuck, you are going to make me cum” He says, teeth gripped as his hand moves to grab a fist of your hair, to move your head down to allow him fuck your mouth deep as he wanted. His own head titles back in pure bliss and pleasure, moaning loudly as he uses your mouth as a desperate animal in need to cum. Not that you complain, it costs a bit more to breathe, and you were almost choking, but hearing Martin be so local, groaning, moaning and grunting was worth it. 

His cum soon fills your mouth, and he keeps you still, the signal clear for you to swallow all of it, as his throbbing cock unleashed his hot cum. 

“Swallow it… fuck, swallow it all, take what I give you…” he mutters in pure bliss.

As the last drops of cum are licked off his cock, he leans back and you move to his side. 

“That was great” You mutter, looking at the ceiling. How could he be so great at it?

“Yeah. Cig break and round two?”

“Hell yeah”

You are with your friend when you search the location in the paper that you found in Martin’s room. You were supposed to go to the club, you were wearing your miniskirt and a top, really to party, but that man had eaten your pussy and fucked you like no one before, so you felt entitled to find what that was for.

“It’s cold” Your friend, Tamara, says. She was chewing gum as she followed you begrudgingly. 

“It’s a fucking parking lot?” You ask looking around the empty street, the night made it lonely yet not totally isolated. 

“Your darling buries the bodies here” Your friend says, obviously judging it all. “Can we go?”

“Look, there is a car” you point out, as the car seems to be jumping around due to the movements inside. “Gods, you think they are having sex?”

“Ew, you think he has a brothel in his car?” Tamara asks you, looking at the car as you both get closer. “Eww and you fucked without a condom… You could get an IST, and die”

“It is called an STD, and… I think he is not fucking anyone” you frown slightly, getting closer.

“Careful! What if his pimp is here…?”

“He is fighting someone!” You say looking inside the car, as you find Martin pressing the head of the other guy against the window. 

Surely, Martin was a weird dude. He was corny as hell, and he had pets called like the species they were. Sure. He almost burned his hair as he smoked after sex, yes; and he also ate pussy like a champ and was hung as a horse. 

“I am going there” You tell your friends. “The dick is worth it”

“Yikes” 

As you walk closer, you feel your friend either staying behind or walking away, not that you care. 

Martin had blood trailing down his forehead, and was lying in the passenger’s seat as his thighs choked the other guy he was with, holding his head still with his hands. Okay, whatever, a guy can have hobbies.

When he sees you, he starts rolling down the window of the car, as you lean closer to his height.

“Hey, darling- how did ya–”

“A girl has her secrets” you say, smiling as you see him. God, he was sexy as hell. “I want my pussy eaten” 

Martin smirks, and he leans back to sigh at your request, as if the idea delights him. He still applies pressure to the other dude, who seems to pass out. Martin leans forward closer to your lips and whispers “Will ya’ wait ten minutes as I finish with this round?”

“Three” You bargain.

“Seven.”

“Three”

“Five and I’ll make you cum twice.” His final offer, and the time you had in mind. Offering lower than one wants always seems work to get your official deal, even with an extra.

“Deal” you accept with a smirk. 

And what if he was fighting inside a car? You fancied Martin, and sure as hell he fancied you. Even if he has weird hobbies. 

[plumipal]

I just had a thought- how would Grim and the ramshackle ghosts feel about all the stuff happening to us?

Especially if the yandere(s) are coming over to our dorm too! Would they, depending on the severity of the yandere and their specific actions, range from supporting it cuz yknow reader gets to be happy with someone who treats them well and loves them to concerned because sweetie please get yourself outta there 😭

I can imagine Grim is NOT alright with it and for a multitude of reasons, they are taking away your time with HIM, and once he pays more attention to the bigger picture? Yeah messed up things be occasionally happening that could very well hurt you!! He does not like that!!!

im just imagining Grim being visibly not alright and reader will not have it either when it comes to him, they are a PACKAGE deal and that is that no matter which yandere comes their way 🗣️

we have many people more alright with Grim being reader’s number one priority, or yknow silently(?) wishing it was them, poor Grim and Reader man encountering yandere after yandere 😭

Grim would give us a look if we expressed any sort of romantic interest in any yandere I think lol

‘Pologies if it was too long or ranty, though I am curious who you think would be the most and least alright with this? I imagine Leona and Ace (legally required to bring up Ace he’s my all time fav next to Grim) would NOT like it lmao

.. first off, this is the longest ask ive ever gotten, I gotta just say oml thank you so much????? You, wrote all of this, fpr me?? 🥹🥹🥹💖💖💖 this literally made my week thank you so much bestie 🥹😭 second off, this inspired me to rant too, I hope you enjoy!- (not proofread btw)

So im mainly gonna focus on grim, no offence to ramshackle ghost fans, I just really like the silly little fire-cat/rat/weasel/creature. He was literally our first friend, our first companion (I bet Ace and grim bicker on who was your first).

And oh boy, guy is NOT HAPPY when he sees all these dumbasses vying for your attention and either trying to butter him up with tuna (which will not work on the mighty grim!) or ugnore him completely! Like you stated you and him are a package deal! Get the prefect and get their silly hungry companion!!

Now, grim surely uses his position as your closest companion as a safety net, they can't kill off the closest you have to family in this world! Guess they gotta live with him if they wanna have a life with you.

Ace hates that grim was your friend before him, feeling annoyed whenever he bullied (Juice) Deuce about being friends with you before him only for grim to butt in. Ace isn't too annoyed with grim though, and grim thinks that Ace is one of the better choises of the roster you have, they're both friends after all.

Of course most students in the cast don't liek "sharing" you with grim, especially the more territorial ones. Leona is probably the worst, I mean come on they're both feline looking creatures. With scent being a heavy thing for felines (yes even beastmen dont come at me) Leona is not happy to have his scent on you be muddied by the little rodent (the greatest mage of all, grim). Probably the worst choise since they're just gonna bicker to the end of the world..

Floyd doesn't like this either! Not fair that he has to share!! And with grim no less.. Floyd results in biting you instead of scenting, his chompers being good for nibbling on you. He also has the advantage that grim is sorta afraid of him (honestly who wouldn't be? Especially yan Floyd...).

Kalim tries to brime grim, with anything he could ever think off! Unlimited tuna for grim, and the best there is as well!! Nything grim could ever want on a silver platter, only if grim let's kalim marry you! That alone doesn't sound too bad, but that unsettling horrifying servant that follows Kalim around. He knows what jamil can do, and he sure does NOT want you with that dude!- guy is manipulative and creepy (he would definelty seperate you and grim!-)

Malleus... Malleus scares grim, guys is honestly horrifying. Threatening to curse him into an eternal slumber so he can whisk you away from him, he doesn't want that! You would also get sad id malleus did that, so luckily the possessive dragon had to share (for now...)

Whoever you choose, grim would probably disapprove, guy thinks of you as family (he will never admit that tho). He cares about you, and he is not okay with the invasion of privacy from these teenagers! >:(

I know you didn't ask fpr any drawing or such, but I couldn't help myself sorry 🤭 hope you like my ramblings back at you!

[glamourscat]

Could you please write Bruce and batboys getting jealous when they meet their crush's ex boyfriend? Her ex is as rich as Bruce, handsome and a total green flag. But they broke up in a friendly term. Upon meeting him they got jealous seeing reader and her ex are still super close. Thank you ❤️

Batboys + Bruce and their jealousy while meeting your ex

Author's Note: I decided to do a mix of a headcanon and a drabble for this one, I think it fits the vibes of the request. i hope you like it :) This is also so damn long but i am a yapper at heart

DICK GRAYSON

I see Dick as a very confident individual. I mean, he is self aware, he is beautiful, rich and overall a good guy. A catch right? (let's ignore the cheating for a moment...)

Though, Dick grew up in a rather unstable situation, to say the least. I see him as a person who craves his s/o attention on him, not necessarely 24/7, but enough to remind him "hey, I am here and I love you"

Still, when he does get jealous ━━ for example in this scenario where you're his crush and he is meeting your ex, who's as equally as handsome as him, not that he would admit to it. Rich as Bruce and a green flag on top of that?━━ damn, he is cooked lol.

His jealousy will probably stem from insecurity. Because, if this guy is rich, beautiful and a green flag too, what does Dick have to offer now? If they are on the same level, or worse, your ex is slightly higher than him ━━ truly, what cards are left for him to play?

And so, I think he would feel insecure for a moment and thats where being overly into PDA comes into place. MORE UNDER THE CUT

"You’re awfully close today. I mean, it’s not like I’m complaining, but… are you sure you're alright, Dick?" you say with a small, soft chuckle as you look at the black-haired guy who just linked his arm with yours.

"Yeah… yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be?" he says, offering a smile that’s a bit too tight, a bit too forced for your liking. It’s not like you're a fool; you know exactly what the problem is. You saw the way he reacted when, walking casually through Gotham, you two happened to run into your ex by pure coincidence.

His eye twitched slightly, and his gaze was darting back and forth between you and your ex. You noticed the way his arm tightened around your waist, as if to say, Back off. If you had any doubts about whether he liked you before, now you have your answer.

JASON TODD

When I think of Jay, I imagine a healed version of him. I know people like to imagine him as this broken soul, and I’m not saying he isn’t; he has his fair share of trauma. But I like to think that from coming back as Red Hood to now, the present Jason Todd, he is a changed man.

He’s no longer the insecure, abrasive teen who swore nothing but vengeance and payback for what happened to him. He has accepted what happened; that doesn’t mean he forgot, nor does this mean he forgives Bruce. It just means he has the emotional capacity to be more confident in his own being.

So, how would he react upon meeting his crush’s ex? Well, chances are, if you’re Jason’s crush, you two are friends. He’s good at many things, but flirting, romance, and putting himself out there are not some of those. By being close friends, he is probably already aware of some aspects of your past, including your ex.

Thus, when he meets your ex, he is probably as nonchalant as ever. Does he feel a bit jealous? Maybe. Will those insecurities that have haunted and stained his past try to resurface, making him second-guess himself? Also yes. But he has grown enough to know he’s better than that.

"Jay?" Your voice is soft as feathers as you look at him. His green-blue eyes are focused on browsing the books on the shelves in front of you two, as silence fills the air in the small bookshop where you two had, by chance, met your ex just moments prior.

"Hm?" he hums, not taking his eyes off the books, but keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.

"Are you okay? You're awfully quiet. Did I say something wrong, or…?" You trail off, but he cuts you off.

"Nope, nothing's wrong. I'm just looking for a book," he says, moving to the romance section. "You like this?" His voice is quiet, yet it holds a softness to it as he shows you a book he damn well knows is your favorite.

"I mean, yeah. It’s my favorite. Why?" Your tone is slightly confused, just as quiet as his.

He shrugs as he places the book in the small hand basket he’s holding. "Nothing. Just thought I’d buy it. I trust you and your opinion. If you say it’s good, then it is."

He knows that in that moment, not giving in, not allowing those negative emotions to resurface as they did in the past, was the best choice he could’ve made if it meant seeing your smile—so timid yet flustered—with those rosy cheeks of yours, as you try to hide your giddiness from his words.

TIM DRAKE

Ah, my favorite little gremlin. The issue I have with Tim is not with Tim himself, but with the fandom that constantly mischaracterizes him.

I’m not even going to get into the coffee addict recurring joke, but I want to focus on one thing. "Precious bean Tim". This guy is absolutely unhinged. Dick, Jason, and Damian all had their moments, but Tim? His whole being is centered around being a sarcastic, witty little shit who does the most unhinged things, and somehow, people always give him a pass. (I mean... do we need to talk about his red robin run? Or when he was dating two people at once? Or when it's canon that at first impression people feel judged by him?)

My point is, Tim is literally out of his mind lol. He struggles a lot with his emotions, we see this in his Red Robin run, how obsessive he became over the idea of finding Bruce, someone he cares for. He was spiraling bad.

His jealousy manifests in possessiveness. Mine, mine, mine. Let's not forget that Tim lost his mother, watched his father die too. He is messed up emotionally, because everything that was his has always been taken from him one way or another. First his parents, then robin mantle by Damian and even his best friend (or lover) Kon at somepoint.

"You're pouting."

"No, I am not." He says, while comically enough, pouting more. It had been about 30 minutes, give or take, since you two came back from the movie theatre. Where you and Tim had to sit through an almost 2 hours long movie with your ex as the main lead.

Was he pissed? no, no, no... why would he be? Absolutely no. Him? Tim Drake? Jealous? Pff. Definitely wasn't. And yet, he kept pressing each key of his keyboard so hard, as he typed, that you feared it might come flying at his face very soon.

"If you're jealous you can just say so you know." You say with a half amused grin. If he wanted to act like a brat, might as well enjoy it. "I mean, who wouldn't be right? My ex is after all, rich, handsome, a great ac-" your words are cut off as his face he is pretty much pressed against yours.

When the hell did he come on the bed? He was sitting at his desk just a moment ago...

"Shut up" he scoffs as his cold nose nudges yours, his hand goes to the back of your head pulling you in for a kiss. and what a kiss. His lips, slightly chapped and cold, meet yours with such ferocity you're left stunned. His body has yours pressed on his bed, as he straddles your lap. Your tongues meet as he lets out a quiet little moan as your hands go in his soft raven hair.

"fuck- i am sorry" he pants gulping, cheeks red and eyes wide, as he pulls back after a few moments in a panic. what the fuck had he just done?

"You shut up now." you say with a little grin, equally as breathless as him, as you bring back your lips against his. Losing each other in a kiss that would be just the beginning of a beautiful imperfect thing.

BRUCE WAYNE

Now, Bruce was hard to crack, for me at least. Because, I think depending on the person, the situation and how he is feeling at the current moment, he can be like any of his sons.

His jealousy is not driven by insecurity or possessiveness in the conventional sense, like Dick’s or Tim's would. Not necesseraily.

I mean, we are talking about a man with his fair share of lovers

I think his jealousy would stem from his deep emotional connections and the high stakes involved in his relationships. Sure, Tim, Dick and Jason are all vigilantes too, but Bruce is the Batman. he cannot afford, he does not have the luxury, of dating who he wants just because. It's either flings or a deep emotional connection with him.

We see him getting jealous with Selina, for example, when he feels his emotional connection getting threatened by other men she is flirting with. His jealousy is so damn complex and subtle and sometimes it shows up as in actions and decision making rather than extensive show off of jealousy.

That's why I think if he has a crush on a woman (or man), his attidute will depend on the situation they find themselves in. He might become overall more vigilant, assertive or distant base on how the event will play out.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[kooyabooya]

GAMBIT

m reader x tzuyu // 9k words

The thing about risk takers, you see, is the fact that you tell them to stop multiple times - and they never do. 

At every turn of the hands on the clock, here lies Chou Tzuyu, in her most casual form imaginable. One leg on the other with an arm outward to the head of the couch cushions. She’s got her face at this inquisitive angle; pure innocence, slant lips nearing a sly grin while she’s put through an earful from her manager: 

“You’re on your last set of legs, and I hope to god that this story doesn’t break out in the ringers of the press come tomorrow morning.” 

Nothing could scrounge up the loss of professionalism, draining away from the slips in the shut door frame. Because the challenges become more complicated than the other, and this one might just be the tip of the iceberg. 

“Well then,” Tzuyu starts, and in typical Tzuyu fashion: sweetly and unbothered. “Let’s just have our fingers crossed that no one around here is willing to leak that out to the public.” 

Tzuyu’s manager glances towards your direction, matching the same eyebrow with theirs in pure confusion as to what this conversation was boiling down to. You almost feel bad, but fortunate enough to not be stuck in their position. Dealing with Tzuyu’s bullshit on a day to day basis, growing a gloomy shade in their hair that shouldn’t be there for another twenty to thirty years; luckily, that hasn’t happened to you, at least not yet. 

In the years of service that you’ve had with the agency, you’ve had the fair pleasure in confiding with different individuals amongst the growing industry, to different waves of success. Sana? A world beater that has cameras flashing everywhere she goes. Mina? An absolute angel sent from heaven, well fit into the standards of fame. Those two amongst your clients might as well be considered your favorites - and the list that follows after is a very reputable asset to have. 

But Tzuyu? That is a blank area that has still yet to be defined. 

Something about Chou Tzuyu around these doors and offices has everyone turning their heads in the other direction - because you know from experience in this industry - for someone like her that’s bound for stardom with that one of one face and the age that she’s at will be the kind of story that’s not following the script. She’s one of the most genuine, kind-hearted, and beautiful souls that everyone envies to an extent; moreso jumping over cars and off of cliffs to have a mere inkling of notice from her, a scale tipped in the balance to love or hate her persona at the same time. Every now and then she sweeps you up in that whirlwind too, but who can blame you for getting lost in her charming features?

And you find it to be amazing at how she remains so stoic. Color yourself impressed, or bewitched even, you’re also reminded why this little project of hers hasn’t been brought out to the world. 

“So remind me again,” you’re saying, settling yourself around the office, scooching your way past Tzuyu to take the open spot left vacant on the couch, “Tzu over here was caught with what?” 

The observing of Tzuyu doesn’t stop there, unfortunately, limit testing on how dire this present situation actually is - with those long, glossy locks that rest right past her shoulders and in front of her chest, beautifully so like a sculpture bust; the threaded eyebrows, and those long eyelashes. Then, there’s the dimple - and her baby blue outfit, the heels, the jewelry, snug with the curves of her body, she’s meant to be the main event, the sole person who can shift the atmosphere in just a few steps-

Tzuyu’s manager, sadly, isn’t one to play games however. 

Another quirk of the brow gets thrown, and they hit you with a crinkle from the bridge of their eyebrows, inward lips as if anything said from this point on would be held against themselves. 

So you smile, and play the cool guy vibe, mirroring Tzuyu’s seating position in the exact same way down to the wiggling foot. “Well?” 

A file gets thrown to the coffee table in the middle of you three, and a phone is up in the air - unlocked and everything when it lands in between your hands. It’s already on the photos app, and when you’re zooming in to get a closer look at all of the pictures from what you can see from the date in the top portion of the screen - from last weekend, and you’re doing the exact same expression as her manager. 

“It was supposed to be a breaker event for little ‘miss perfect’ over here,” Tzuyu’s manager starts, laser focused like he thinks you’re going to ask her yourself if the contents in the phone were actually hers - which might not make the situation better. Look, you’ve got to keep it cool and stay professional, since that’s your job - especially since Tzuyu’s also young, not by much, but it still feels all the same. Sure, you could challenge that, but why would you? Every time you look at Tzuyu, she can see that there’s not a single thought past your eyes. “I leave her with Sullyoon for thirty minutes at this event and I-” 

You turn your head towards Tzuyu again to which she gives you the side eye after looking at the phone in your hand, and somehow you just know. 

Tzuyu’s manager flips open the file, filled with a good stack of pictures. He spreads them out all over the table, much like finding a specific still from this gallery that stands out. You’re staring, closer, the photos match up in the phone too and- 

Shit. 

That’s the only word that you can think of, but the meaning and intent could be taken in either one of two ways. As for the thoughts circling around your head?

There’s hardly any. Almost nothing. 

“Okay,” you say, face still unfazed; a skill in itself that took a god awful amount of time to get down perfectly, but still, holy shit. Now you’re seeing why the agency is doing everything in their power to keep this under wraps. You can’t even believe the pictures that show Tzuyu exposed with no clothes at all, clearly tattered up in marks and scratches and ran through from whoever was the person that took the pictures in the first place. There’s her thighs stacked on top of each other with pointe feet, her abs are soaked in fresh spurts of cum, the way that her head is crestfallen to the right side as she tries to cover her face, how she smiles at the corner of her mouth; she’s made for the cameras - and you could see the literal sex that she emits from the stills, every profane term in the book or in your vocabulary culminated into one person - but this is the line of work you’ve put yourself in, as you can feel the two pairs of eyes staring at you from the both of them, waiting for an answer. 

You toss the phone off to the side, and get your fingertips on the pictures, examining them with wandering eyes. And with the calm and composed demeanor you could craft within seconds, you say: “I don’t see what’s the problem here.” 

Nothing flies with Tzuyu’s manager at this point when it comes to you. “Watch the attitude now,” he leads, overbearing. 

“What he said,” Tzuyu doubles one second after, a wisp of hair falling to the front of her face, grinning behind the thin curtain of her strands, “Watch the attitude.” 

You exchange glances between Tzuyu and her manager, clearly in shock at how they’re figuratively double-teaming against you. Tzuyu’s always had a knack for being upbeat and funny, flirty would also be a way to put it, but she’s made that her own thing, her label - the press wasn’t kidding when they said in between the lines that this woman here was going to turn the world on its head, to make anyone from anywhere fall to the ground just to have them acknowledged in her good graces - many will die when granted the opportunity - but it's one of those days that has you wondering why she’s more forward, and obvious, that equation is still getting solved by the second. 

“Done,” you say after, giving in to their demands; it’s still difficult to learn and determine what kind of tale she’s willing to write today and you’re still seeing whether it's a good idea to play along to what’s forming. “What else do we know about her and-”

“Sullyoon’s already had her discussion earlier,” Tzuyu answers right away, combing her hand through her hair, watching her fingers disappear within those coffee bean locks that’s effortlessly charming. “As for me, that’s still yet to be determined. Which also got me thinking: it can’t be that bad as it sounds the way that you’re suggesting it.”

You’re also seeing the attitude that Tzuyu’s showing through her words and how she feels about the entire situation as a whole before you and her manager could even dive into the more complicated bits within the first five minutes of walking into the room. It’s like in her case file written in parentheses: ‘known to be a hot head, and a bit self-obsessed’ - considering her arrogance at times, but her charms make up for it. She can be one or the other, or even both. It’s how she grins: simply desirable. Once she’s put her name out there for the rest of the world, and not even for the industry, the scandals won’t even touch her going forward. She’ll be untouched while you are at the bottom picking up the scraps and taking the damage. 

“The punishment for Sullyoon is a lot more lenient because of me,” says Tzuyu’s manager, but his gaze gets back on her, hand on hip in clear and utter disappointment with the shake of his head. “And Haewon’s already not having it with the incident with Bae. Now with this, it’s a complete clusterfuck of events, so I just-  ugh, it’s a lot.” 

“Sorry to hear that,” you apologize, a hand up but the look on your face shares little to no care about the manager’s pain as of this moment. “And for the record, I feel like we had this conversation before, no?” 

“You’re her advisor, dipshit.” Tzuyu’s manager grits, ball forming at the fist, “That’s the reason why I brought you on board with her in the first place. Isn’t that supposed to be your job to, y’know, advise?” 

“You’re the manager, and might I add the correction: her manager,” you shoot back retortfully, “Maybe you should keep a close monitor on our lovely, budding starlet here from the get-go?” 

Tzuyu stifles a laugh, causing both your eyes and her manager’s to do this form of joint attention on her, and hiding away in the plane of her medium-sized hand, “What?” you both say to her, and it comes off as comical. 

“Nothing,” she muses, lifting a leg up over her opposite one this time, leaning deeper into the cushions of the couch, eyebrows up in the horizon of her forehead, beaming. “I just thrive amongst the bickering you two are having over my career.” 

“See?” And Tzuyu looks away from your rolling eyes, “I put it in the file in bullet points. She’s not ready for this kind of pressure and lifestyle, and do you really want me to go through the list of the incidents she’s already put herself through to serve your memory?” 

“I would find it best for you not to remind me of everything up until now.” Tzuyu’s manager shuts down the question, spinning his phone in hand between the fingers, “Please don’t-” 

“DUI charges, social media backlash because of a vape laying in her lap in one of the pictures, smoking out late at night with Ryujin and Yuna,” You’re listing out the events anyway, because Tzuyu’s manager can easily tell that you’re the kind of person to not really give a shit about these kinds of things. It’s not you being put under the spotlight - this microscope that’s always being picked off with a pair of tweezers - how one influencer’s words could brainwash the general public into rubbing their palms with a pair of tangerines. They’ll always follow, to some extent; and for Tzuyu, that’s the kind of power she wants to have - to get people talking about her and not stop there. 

“So do you want me to keep going?” You ask again, clearly caring little to none as Tzuyu examines her personal stills, head tilted when she picks up one of the photos. “And may I remind you that she’s got a gala event to attend to in the midst of all this, so let me ask you this boss,” you say, and you can see the flared nostrils coming from Tzuyu’s manager, “How do you want to go about this?” 

Tzuyu’s manager freezes, phone vibrating in record time like crazy. He’s taking a few seconds to strategize the next move, what’s the next course of necessary action. Keeping Tzuyu here is the worst idea, because that breeds into speculation. Compounding that, there’s also the monumental effort of keeping these pictures on the table in her phone on the down low, which may be impossible at this point, given with the insiders circling around like moles in the organization. 

“The event isn’t for another hour and a half or so,” Tzuyu’s manager announces, eyes darting back and forth from the phone to you two sitting on the couch, pulling his lips upward at the exchange of messages. “Fuck this industry sometimes,” he groans, “You do things here and there and don’t expect the treatment to be - goddamit, Haewon’s calling me again about Sullyoon,” he says, phone to the side of his head when he answers. “Hey, Haewon. No, I uh- I’m here with Tzu and- yeah, I’ll come over right now to see the situation.” He pulls his phone away from his ear, button pressed on mute, “Sorry, but you know where I’m going with this here.” 

“Don’t be,” says Tzuyu. There’s some tension in the air, like a flare set off in the dead of the night - how her head turns slightly towards your direction, smile laced with a purpose - and she cocks her head off to the side as her manager starts to make his way out the room. “We’re not leaving yet as it is.” 

Her manager pauses, in between the open doorway. His phone is right back into his ear, nodding along to Haewon on the other end of the line, eyes lapping side to side and back between the two of you - because it’s his job, and he can’t get away from that fact regardless. 

“That’s still up in the air, you know,” he says towards you, clearly hurt by the tone you gave earlier; insulted might be one better word to put it, but he knows that you know better and you’re just acting like this out of spite. “Don’t know how long this will take, but pray that I’ll be back before we have to go.” 

Once the door closes - much like a kingdom raising up their drawbridge, a safe with all the locks in the world clicking into place - holding you and Tzuyu prisoner in this vacuum of space, this could be hell, or it might be heaven. Tzuyu clicks her tongue, gets it under the front portion of her bottom teeth, at a molar, studying you as if you’re a centerpiece or painting hung up on the room; this girl is clearly unreadable. 

“Tzu,” you call out to her, keeping the ambiance chill - whilst maintaining some form of lead in this hurricane of tension. It doesn’t also help that the sun is right at the ocean, kissing along the horizon towards the beach, a wonderful mixture of hues between orange and dark blue and purple clashing in the sky, the lights are on in the neighboring skyscrapers - a view that can serve as the last sight for someone before falling off fifty plus stories - and in the midst of all that calming pictures, she’s still looking at you. 

She leans over, dress wrinkling in all the right creases. Don’t look now, or else that’ll be the end of you, as she blinks dotingly, lashes fluttering and with that sugary tone of hers, she just says: “Yes?” 

“What gave you the compelling idea to have an entire album of a cock in your mouth. Not only that, but the fact that Sullyoon was also in on this too? Especially when she’s three years younger than you, her senior? Like what-” 

“You’re making it sound like I fucked up?” Tzuyu says, an eyebrow raised in curiosity, the innocence isn’t doing her any justice compared to the hard evidence found in her phone. “Of course I know what I was doing, and believe me, this would only speed up the process a little more.” 

“What process?” 

“To get me out there into the real world.” 

She giggles when the crease of your eyebrows knitting together comes back into the frame of your face, leaning over while she sinks back into the couch, hands fiddling with the red ribbon that was attached to her dress. The eerie sound of your name being recited from the proper pronunciation meshing into hums. She’s observing your posture, much like her normal act persists - staying quiet but acknowledging others when needed. You hate how much of a sweetheart she is at times, because it’s all a setup for a bleeding edge that eventually comes to life sooner or later. 

“I’ll keep it real,” you’re starting again, “You did fuck up. And you fucked up bad. It’ll be a miracle if this doesn’t get out, but I’m not holding my breath for you, and-” 

Tzuyu just keeps staring. With that gaze of hers, she’s still trying to get a read - from the hem of your jacket or at the peak of your ruffled hair, it might be easy to tell that in some way: she’s into you.

“Okay, in simple terms, you’ll live.” With that said, you shouldn’t be silently suffering with a potential breakout star of an actress, so you’ll hang strong against her glance. This was something that you enjoyed doing from the multiple meetings and screenings. “We could honestly set this up to be a hush money agreement with whoever managed to get these pictures in the first place -  your fault, might I add - but anyways, all of this should go away, if we play our cards right. No need for you to come forward to address the rumors, that’s why you have people like us to deal the damage. All you have to do here is just - uhm - well, be Tzuyu.” 

Tzuyu appears intrigued, finding a small crack in your impenetrable armor, a rarity at times but also is aware that it might be a minor slip-up. “Be Tzuyu? What do you mean by that?” 

You flash a look at her, but she’s one to double down, eyes squinting - she’s capitalizing on your mistake. “There’s a proper term for this,” she says, “and maybe um, pretty would be one to suffice?” 

“I’m not trying to sound afraid,” you say, calmly. “There’s two choices between right and wrong. Then there’s the respect, and also being sensible. You have to treat this career like it’s your life.” And you didn’t say professional, because that word is the last resort; a rescue rope only to be used in the most dire situations. 

“I want this life.” The admission, something nestling underneath the parts of her sentence, a slow-burning being soaking behind those soiled eyes. Tzuyu then scoots over, gets closer to you, tips her chin to further the examination. “I have what it takes to be professional. You’re just afraid to say it to my face.” 

“Welp, you caught me,” you say, knotting your fingers in between themselves just to keep yourself from doing anything rash, maybe walking out of the room to leave her alone would be the best move, instead of letting your thoughts get the best of you and pinning her body flat on the couch. “Seriously, doing things like this will only kill your chances of making it big even before you start.” 

Common sense appears to be dissipating out the clear windows. And now Tzuyu is the one who’s taking full advantage, bursting your personal bubble - the way that she shimmies her way across the cushions, so mindful of how she moves her body at every curve and nick in her limbs; you can hear your own heartbeat quickening, like you’re hiding in a locker and she’s about to tamper with the dial to get the door open - and she’s about face to you, hand ghosting the upper profiles of your chest where your shoulders are at. She’s not that tall from a height standpoint, but sitting down, she’s matching your build bit by bit. 

“It’ll happen, regardless,” says Tzuyu, face with a wide grin. “That’s why people like you are working hard to make sure that things like these don’t happen again. Especially in the long run.” 

“You’re really going all out today, are you?” You exclaim after closely assessing, holding our ground against her. “Might I add that you might also ruin Sullyoon’s career after yours is out of our hands?” 

“She’s a tough girl,” says Tzuyu, flatly, as if the prospect itself is something to laugh about. Tzuyu is a silent killer, shown in her signs of arrogance which shouldn’t be enticing to you, but they are, and in every way possible. “And like I told you, I’ll keep doing shit like this because I want to. You can hide away all you want, when it’s clear in your eyes that you want me just as bad as I want you.” 

“And what do you propose here?” 

“I’m telling you that the way you sound right now turns me on, genius.” 

It comes in a black flash, much like you staring down the hole of a double-barreled shotgun; or your head getting pushed into a tub of ice cold water. You can see the stars in her eyes, each and every one of them an alternate reality of their own between you and Tzuyu, sparkling with so much light. “Who’s saying that fucking a client was on the cards?” 

And Tzuyu chuckles at that, on cue like it's some cheeky sitcom. “Don’t get stupid with me,” she says, and she’s raining fire down from above. “Everyone already has said the same thing at least once or more.” 

Your eyes land on the clock hanging above the room, then they dart to the closed door. “He’s not gonna be back anytime soon, is he?” 

“Haewon’s office is at least five floors down, and the elevator apparently hasn’t been working all day..” 

“Some luck.” 

“I can make my own.” 

“I hope you know that this is a really bad path you’re going down to.” You’re deterring, but it's a lazy attempt at best, no point in shying away - because you’re not scared of Tzuyu, and you never were, mentioning the fact that she’s radioactive in her own rights. She’s equipped with an arsenal of tricks and quirks, but you’ve got your own brandished within that noggin of yours. A hand is on her thigh, trailing up to the hip, and she looks down to take the hint, scooting closer. “You’ve got some nerve, testing me like this, and you have no idea what you just signed up for.” 

“Do you have to be this serious?” Tzuyu’s hand finds yours, slipping up against the fine silk across the palm of your hand. “I’m one for keeping things simple here,” she’s telling you, watching your eyes as your fingers get rumpled over the fabric, venom lacing your nerves before you even realize it. It’ll get reactive really quick, but you stand your ground. “About the sex, don’t overcomplicate-” 

“Why would I overcomplicate something with the likes of you?” you’re asking her, and you watch as her hand finds the knot tied at the nape of her neck, unraveling it, where you see her bra. It’s no help that she’s sliding her dress down to her panties and thighs, the covers being unleashed with every inch opening up to the air. “We’re on track here, and I think I’m getting warmer here.” 

This is something serious, much like a public execution at the hands of her just strolling on by - people stopping in their tracks just to get a good look of that face, that body, so this might be some form of armageddon - but Tzuyu’s dress gets discarded somewhere in the office, to a corner where it won’t be seen on her until you’re fully done with her. Everything in your head is flowing like a whitewater river, a burning urge that gets beyond just the sexual aspect of it. So you’ll get your knees deep: 

“You know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” you ask, and examine. The sense of being normal and professional has long gone out the way. But oh. Oh, she knows what she wants, and you’ll have the fine luxury to give that to her, because it’s what you signed up for: twist the words and her body in every way that you see fit, to fill people in on what their crown jewel of a woman is up to. “Dreaming of that one day where someone will just tell you straight: I want to fuck you. Well Tzu, today’s your lucky day.” 

Tzuyu tenses, eyes appearing like glitter, holding your hand where it stays on the rise of her hip. “I’ve never seen you this talkative outside office hours.” 

“I converse like this on the regular.” You’ve got the experience, and the hours under your belt, you’re holding the other end of the rope in her burgeoning career - if she fucks up the next time, you’re also gone along with her, too. “Now, are you gonna keep talking, or are we going to talk business?” 

Tzuyu is so good for you, in more ways than one. It’s in her eyes, the way that she tilts her head off to the side, when you’ve pushed her up against the cushions as far as you could take her, hair spilling over to her covered breasts, keeping her gaze locked with yours when you’ve sunk to the bottom of the couch - the low light of the sunset makes way for the night sky, moonlight breaking through that captures her face, illuminating the fine mold of her cheekbones, her teeth break past her lips, and she smiles a bit like practice for the waves of flashes out on the red carpet - she relaxes, feels the lace of her panties slide off her thighs like nothing. Undeniably gorgeous, is one way to put it, she’s dirty, she’s every single thing; oh god, the staring, when you look up between her legs, mouth hanging low, chest puffed up in anticipation of the relieving pressure. 

“Many people have tried to test me, get rid of the fun in what I do with my manager and such,” Tzuyu says. “But I knew-” Her hands find yours, sliding up the sides of her outer thighs, holding them in place when you start to lean in. “You didn’t do anything about it, and I liked how you were with me, to set me right, without the changes of rules.” 

“Had it been anyone else,” you acclaim, mouth leaving hot and wet kisses across the inner portion of her thigh; she’s got a hand in your hair with no intention of letting you go. 

“You,” Tzuyu says the singular syllable, reduced to just very minimal words, much like she’s being scolded. But the confession let out is like a padlock finally breaking under the pressures of the wrench: “I’ve always wanted you. I promise and fuck- I’ll be good.” 

There’s actually no way she said- 

The words that spilled out her mouth flew over your head for a short second, a minor blowback in the swing of things - but then again, why are you playing it safe with Tzuyu in the first place? There’s no need, and you’ve got to make that apparent to her; you’ve got your hands on her long legs, spreading your hand out on the skin, she’s got a hand sliding down to her glistening pussy, but she reels back when you’ve beat her to it, and Tzuyu hisses, hiding a whine, “Baby…” 

You pause, hike her up on the couch higher, focus slinging to her face, and her dead-eyed stare slams right alongside yours. 

“Tzuyu,” you’re saying, when you’ve managed to say her name that’s caught in between your vocal folds - it’s a little rushed, no exhale behind it, and a bit tattered - but there’s her demeanor, the tightness swirling in the air between you two. She’s only a few years younger - and that alone could be worse - you’ve got the better position, the better wits of how things work, the implications - and maybe you were a pawn in her game all along, there’s really no telling. 

“Love it,” she exhales, voice tripping when you dip your mouth down to her other pair of lips, “when you say my name,” she’s needy, fingers curling to your head to satiate the sensation a bit longer. Legitimately, fuck, she might end your career, make you a martyr for the whole office to witness, and she could be the one to do all that. “Baby, your fucking mouth.” 

The gaze never wavers on her, hunting - her dainty fingers are gripping the cushions, fibers of muscle moving in ways much so she would be defending herself; she’s used to giving orders and due compliance, but knows where she stands in certain situations. She could be the primary catalyst of what’s happening right now, but you’ve got full control: a green light going off in the back of your mind. There’s no turning back now, foot to the floor, bases fully loaded. She won’t- She won’t last a week in this life by playing it by the rules. 

“Need me that bad?” You ask, face twisting devilishly. Some things in this line of work have taught you that people have to be selfish at times, and you’ll fall face-first into that. “Watch and learn, sweetheart. Don’t even think about getting your hands on me.” 

Tzuyu’s lip is caught between her upper teeth, rolls her eyes, nodding profusely - it’s gonna take more than that. You see her lidded eyes, spread her apart further, “We listening?” 

“No- touching,” she sighs. This girl is soaked - the refreshing taste of her cunt on the pad of your tongue, and you’ll keep indulging. You’ve got yourself in that open space between her legs, she’s sputtering out nonsense, pulling her thighs in to combat against your hands - “Please, just- please, do this one thing for me, I swear-” 

She’s waving the flag up high in the air, and of course you’re going to take this into account. This is someone who is going to make headlines wherever she goes, has people do things that would lead into major or second-hand embarrassment, so you lean down to her aching pussy - across the folds, and her clit, so slick for you, she’s sighing a lot more louder this time - and she’ll let you mold her into any shape you want her to be, let your tongue do the talking: “Right there, yes-” she’s relaxing into your hands and face, giving you the praise she’d never thought she’d say to you ever, like some act of contrition that will absolve her actions - wow, and you’re wondering of the lucky fucker who took the pictures of her and Sullyoon got the same luxury as you’re getting right now. “Fuck, oh honey-” 

You’re paying no mind to how her hips are wiggling across your face, desperate for a sense of friction, fighting every urge to not dig her nails into your hair and get your tongue even deeper where you can send it - but you keep her legs spread, and she could almost rip into the cushions on the couch, grip tight enough to choke- 

“Taste so good,” you mutter, off to the side of her leaking slit, listening as the chorus of Tzuyu’s moans crescendo a bit before dropping in silence. “Look at you, being so good for me.” 

“Shit, you’re gonna- you’re gonna make me-” 

Whether she’s able to tell you or not, you know it all the same. Her flawless face is so torn to the fine points - faltering in every aspect of perfection, that apex, you’re working her there, warmer, and warmer-

But you pull from the tops of her thighs, shove your nose right down to her clit. Stay right fucking here, and don’t even think about moving a muscle; sometimes there’s no need to say things verbally - but the implication stands - when Tzuyu finally lets go into the heat of your mouth. 

You can be lenient, maybe have her rest in the grace period, but there’s a schedule still drawn up on the board, and the sand in the hourglass is still seeping through the middle. “I’d like to keep this up,” you tell her, cleaning up the slick spread across your lips - that fine nectar, easy to say that you’re addicted, but that’s old news. “But must I remind you that you’ve got an image to protect at this gala you’ve got in an hour?” 

“Can- Can I have my turn now?” Tzuyu asks, sitting up on the couch now, hands fast to her backside, unlatching the clips of her bra, slides out of it like it’s nothing. You’ve got your jacket discarded on her manager’s desk, hands to the buckle. Tools are being laid out here amongst you two, and Tzuyu keeps her eyes trained on you, chest rising and falling - watching the noticeable bulge appearing in your boxers. “Please, I can help - just need your cock-” 

“Do you always like to rush these things?” You ask her - pushing her back as her arms just float in the air - she’s beautiful, gorgeous, and wanting; the notion alone would already be disregarded if it wasn’t for the sensible form of structure in your head. It’s in that dimple of hers, that sly grin, those eyes, she’s a personification of eye candy: you’ll keep staring for as long as she’d like you to. “No need to answer that, but,” and you laugh in between for a slight second, “You’re really pushy today.” 

“Please, baby.” That gaze, eyes trained up with her bit lip, she’s dangerous. “For me.” 

You don’t say anything, but with a simple nod, and her fingers are fast to the elastic. 

You also like how she’s willing to follow, to listen. She’s good with her hands, she’s been trained to handle PR questions with the flick of her wrist, programmed to take information and internalize it - she’s flawless enough to stand with the other clients, even when you’re the first to make the move in kissing her, capture her mouth with yours. It’s a bit cute when she’s caught off guard, sucking the air out of her, yielding to your touch.  She’s smiling against your lips, and that’s the laced venom you’ve been cautious of. 

The grip gets let go from the back of her head, retreating, panting, the taste of her lips mixed with yours. She helped clean off the remnants of her pussy on your tongue and she’s licking her lips again wanting more. “Give me some kind of feedback. A demand. Anything,” you command, fingers dancing along her chin when she looks up so innocently. “I think you’ll ask nicely, so prove it.” 

She doesn’t even think twice about it. “I want you,” she’s coming in and out of focus in her eyes, way past the point of no return, staring at you while she’s keeping you magnetized to her hands, slowly dragging along the skin of your cock, “to fuck me, put this cock inside my pretty little pussy, and use me to cum all over-” 

Her face does it for you, shattering right in front of your eyes, wanting smile, pupils blown - you snake your arms around her back, press her down to the couch - there’s a beauty behind the sneakiness of this, the thrill of being found out, the risks taken to take advantage of someone to your own liking, let the thrums of your heartbeat be the only thing to hear within yourself - but Tzuyu goes quiet, she’s so pliant and wet that doesn’t really need any words to come out of her, just the noises when- 

“Fuck.” 

When you slide your aching cock into her cunt, slowly, painstakingly strategic, and the feeling was too much to bear for her. 

“God-” 

You draw back and snap your hips into her - a statement made, an opening in the woven threads to rip a hole in -  you’ve got a hand quick to her parting mouth, hushing her, pinning her. “Go any louder,” you’re hissing, lowly, trying to not think about the fucking clench her cunt makes around you, “Go any louder, and you’re just asking to get caught. We can’t have that, can we?” This is something new, something absolutely obscene, hiding away in the office of her manager’s - keeping a secret that nobody should be able to tell, besides you two. “Did you realize how much of a slut you are when I saw those pictures?” 

Tzuyu’s breasts wobble on the upstrokes, bouncing along while leaking all over your length. The thought of damage control is still in play, to not have her completely ruined for the red carpet in the next hour or so - but you’ll take the secrecy, construct a fake picture to ensure that will not have anyone look a second time. Nobody will know how good Tzuyu’s wrapped around you, that hot and tight cunt, a hand now wrapped around her neck, pressing down but not too much- 

A thumb is in between her lips. “Speak up.” 

“Yes- I know, fuck, it was- a mistake.” She’s choking up the words from the hand on her throat, barely enough to produce the sounds through her vocal folds, chasing for that relief that she desperately needs - “It was stupid, but,” she’s unmoving with her reasons, fervor standing strong, it’s irking - you’ve got to fuck this attitude out of her - “That doesn’t matter, please, your cock, keep fucking, right there, that’s the spot, I’ll be good, I’ll cum for you, make you not worry about-” 

“You keep talking like this and I’ll make you shut up myself.” 

She spills a line of expletives that get mixed up with the slaps of her hips with yours, but there’s one outlier - maybe two - that captures your ears. 

“I didn’t make him cum inside me, but I’ll let you do it if you want.” 

“Yeah, not happening, babe. Not like this.”

Tzuyu mewls and whimpers when you give her one good, impaling hit inside her cunt, let your cockhead rest right beneath the womb where it aches. It doesn’t help her case when she’s shaking her head in refusal, denying. You’re chuckling as she tries to shimmy out of your grasp, the sound reverberating around the room, in relief, or awe would be a way to put it. Stepping into this office was a little bit out of your way, just popping your head in to get a quick word before going on with whatever was on the agenda - until this whirlwind of events coming from her changed all that. “Please. Can you do that? I want it, I want you, so bad. I swear, nothing bad will ever happen from me again - please, if you just-” 

Luckily, everyone’s gone from the office for today - because she’s way louder than you would’ve expected - you ram your cock inside her pussy, without any care for her begging and pleading - there’s also not ruining her appearance, but you’ll pull something out of your ass or she will to cover it up. You’ve made your mark in twisting people’s words around, shifting the angles that way you’re not the one taking up the heat. Conjuring up whatever you could that might rival a con artist’s whole life. But this is also another thing: if Tzuyu’s manager walks in right now, you could prime the whole act onto her and she’ll be gone. 

“You can keep asking, begging, offering, whatever it is that you want.” It’s hard to forget that you’re on the clock, the provisos informed, lines that were drawn up from the start; you could cut it some slack, maybe for someone like her, who really knows. “I’ll keep fucking you up as long as I like, but you’re not getting me to cum up all inside you.” She tilts her head back, and you sweep down to the column of her neck, get a mark on it, not too hard. “Want it to be easy? Just keep screaming, nobody will hear you.” 

Wishing that this moment here in the room to last forever might be a tall ask. From the exchange of hitched breaths coming out of your lips and hers, to the slaps still stable in pace, bottoming her out as her ankles finally latch onto the small of your back, holding you in place - someone could walk in the room now and know without question as to what you’re doing to her - maybe with the sea of cameras at this event later will take notice as to the damage you’ve done to- 

“Inside. Please, nobody has to know. Just us.” Fuck, this girl is testing your mental tenacity, exersizing every impluse that you’ve unleashed of every dirty thought you’ve had since working with her. She could convince you with words, the magma emitting from her voice, sounding low, goes so well in tandem with her moans. “Maybe if you keep this up, I’ll let you knock me up whenever you want, wherever you want, however you want.” 

“You- Tzuyu, you- fuck-” 

“That would be so hot, you know? To use my tight pussy as your personal cumdump - shit - even the manager won’t take up on the offer, so you’re the next one in line.” 

The defiling theory alone is very, very tempting. She’s not like this when there’s a camera or journalist waiting for a slip up to pen the story - you’re still in the driver's seat, keeping it level, thinking of some substance for guidance. You’ve been in this position before, and you’ve learned. 

So: 

“I’d be honored,” you say to her, pressing a hand down her breast, grasping, pulling your cock out to do a few measly slaps along her sensitive clit to show her you’re not playing around, “So far you’ve been convincing, but you’re still new to this. A few stupid acts early on will ruin you down the line, so watch yourself.” 

In the meetings, you remember the firm tone when asked for your personal take towards a proposed plan - coming off as abrasive because that’s how gritty this industry really is without showing it - Tzuyu’s incidents have been nothing short of interesting, talking down on her for acting like a complete dumbass - but she loves the degrading, the harsh compliments. This is something that she wants, and you’d be happy to let the media eat her up alive for it. 

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that just to sway me,” you keep going, twist the knife to where it hurts: “You’re not the first one, let me tell you that, Tzuyu. And I can assure you: you certainly won’t be the last.” Hands on her hips, and you fuck in - it doesn’t get any simpler than that. “Don’t test me with that attitude, because I’ll make you change it in an instant.” 

Her entire body is like a noose, a live wire on a bomb that’s about to reach zero - she’s gripping and convulsing around your cock, you’ve got her to be this way, “Please,” pleads Tzuyu, the utterances and vowels and consonants all collapsing like some domino effect, eyes flapping shut, and the sounds of obscenity seem to get better every passing second, “You’re gonna make me- make me fucking cum, oh god-” 

She’s got so much potential to shake the industry up, not since Sana first came around and did some damage to you. Mina was also the same, and could match up with Sana if the universe allowed it. No one is ready for what Tzuyu has to offer, no fan could scream and break down crying let alone a photoshoot capture the beauty she carries with that face of hers, and that body, every part is sculpted to immaculate perfection, the flex in her abs when you thrust down, catch the arch in her back with an arm, get your forehead with hers, the scaffolding finally losing it’s last limbs of support at the ground level, hand quick to the hard bud of her nipple-

“Cum all over this cock, Tzu,” you’re sighing, leaning down to coax her with a kiss, and she’s got a hand raked through your hair again. “Cum for me. Do it. No shying away from me this time.” 

And like you’ve observed before, the mental note much like a callback, she’s so easy to comply; it's in how your mouth works over her, cunt so slippery hot in friction with your cock sliding in with no problem whatsoever, this is everything to you - and Tzuyu’s body goes limp, holding in a noise in her lungs. It’s a high-pitched ‘fuck’ followed with a murmur of your name, muddled with ‘baby, oh my god, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-’ 

You’ll leave a mark for someone else to notice, the shade with enough bite that could be covered up with a little foundation, let her ride out the peak of her high. “Breathe, Tzuyu. There we go, nice and easy, soak up my cock with that pussy of yours. Jesus.” 

Tzuyu picks up on things fast, and she’s reduced to a various spill of words. She’s a shuddering mess, sinking her hips down to get a lasting feeling of your cock when you pull out - but she’s quick to get up, hands fast to your thighs; leaning down, a swift lick up on the underside. Her makeup is a bit battered, chest slick and light pink from all the marks you put; she hollows her cheeks, has a little bit of fun, and you start to sink. 

“Tzu.” 

She gives no response, lowering her mouth past the halfway point, eyes lidded, but weighted with intent, appalled; her cheek blows up unintentionally, lathering up your cock in her spit, and your head falls back to the crown of the seat. She’s unsure with what she’s doing, you’re tensing and untensing in the lower half, but complaining is the last thing you’ll do. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” you say, gritting your teeth when Tzuyu reaches down a spot near the base, tongue grazing at a vein, where the head of your cock is staring down the hollow of her throat, a slight clench. She could care less with the curses leaving your mouth, it just tells her she’s doing something right. “Do whatever you want, and I’ll owe you next time. Fuck-” 

It does some form of numbers in your head when her eyes lock onto yours, smiling with half a cock in her mouth, quick to shut you up. 

Her mouth is amazing - and that could be an understatement. She’s holding you at the base, where the angle of your cock is tied down between her fingers. You let her take control for a bit, try to see if she can do it herself - but you’ll play the role of guidance again, because that’s what you do, help out in ways that make her have the moment - so you lean forward, hand fast to the back of her head, and you feel her jaw go slack, muffle the choking sound coming out of her open mouth- 

“Fuck, Tzuyu,” you grit, the name alone of hers is an easy impulse to keep doing; you’ve got her hair in this makeshift ponytail, out of the way when she continues to bob her head up and down the length. It was a boring day for you anyway, but at least you’ve made it up to have the prospecting breakout actress strip her clothes down and get on her knees in her manager’s office. “Just keep- yeah, okay, there we- ugh, shit-” 

She mumbles a brief phrase of a ‘mhm’, mouth wide open, salivating, nudging your cockhead down into her throat before pulling back up for another wisp of air - her index and thumb are wrapped around the bottom of your shaft, closing her eyes as the contraction literally leaves you breathless - all the way down into her throat, holding her up with her hair as much as you can- 

Yet the sound that rips from the cavity in your chest, it’s loud enough for someone to hear down the hallway, probably someone from the floor below to pick up on the commotion too. 

Tzuyu’s mouth lets out this sobbed out sound, coughing and inhaling your cock when you cum down her throat - she can’t swallow it all, you think, but you forget her ambition at times when she holds herself, eventually pulling back - eyes glossy and full of impurity, burning irises that mimic Sana’s when she also- 

“God-” you manage to choke out, fixated on the image of Tzuyu cleaning her face up with a small stream of your cum leaking out the corner of her lip. But, you’re satisfied. You’ll let her take the credit for now.

It also doesn’t help when she’s got a finger circling her slicked lips, tilting her head when she hollows her cheeks again around her fingertip. She knows she’s hot, how dirty she can get - and she’d let you do anything and everything from the fucking on the floor to railing her on the walls, because she’s got her own center of gravity with her being, that’s just how it is. 

You can’t help when you’ve pulled her back to your space, catching her lips, since that’s the only logical thing to do with her, and she’ll accept it. “Mmph. I just- you, you-”

“Yeah?” You’re saying, face in your hands when you keep kissing her. “Something to say?” 

“My mouth- you?” 

“And what about it?” 

“Your cum. You just-” 

“I overheard Sana talk to you about her story with me the other day, figured I’d just do it anyway.” 

The tone in your voice is a clear contrast to all the filthy stuff you were telling just a few minutes ago, it’s still crotchety, but a little more lighter than usual - like everything that was a worry suddenly just washed away, and all of a sudden Tzuyu’s quick to get your neck corralled with her arms, leaning for another kiss, the hums alone are delightful, pushing hysterical a bit. 

“I hate you,” she says, a chaste peck to your cheek when you’ve got her ass on top of your forearms, carrying her. She’s laying out a few suggestions, but you’re telling her that the gala could wait, to waste more time to explore her body, more and more. ‘That’s a lie, by the way, but I’m sure you knew that.” 

Shutting her up is a viable option, but she’s right on the jump with that one ahead of you - so she kisses you, why bother putting up a fight against that?

-

The car ride on the way to the gala premiere is nothing short in terms of quiet. Some chatter is being thrown around with you and the driver, since Tzuyu’s manager also had the unfortunate task of bringing some swinger that’s already made a name for herself with the company, per instructions given by Jihyo; you remember hearing it past the open door to your office, named Kim so-and-so on the files. Maybe it was Jennie or Jiwon, or was the name beginning with a letter D? 

“I think the boss man is convinced with your lobbying,” Tzuyu says under her breath. Like you, she’s managed to clean up her appearance - scent still fresh of sex, her hair still a bit rattled, but is trying to repair as much as she can. You can’t keep your gaze off of her; how the headlights from the oncoming cars illuminate through her eyes, handing you her hair band because it doesn’t match up with the look. 

“I mean, if you already asked him what you asked me, and he still refused,” chuckling when you’re looking out the window towards the sidewalk, trailing the crowd of people lining up around the venue, “That should give you enough prose to ask me, since I was next in line.” 

Tzuyu just laughs, dipping her head down - she’s infectious, without even putting effort into trying. You’re seeing why she’s bound to be a topic once she’s put herself out there, and - sure, you could draft up a file with all of that content in a heartbeat. Needless to say, you’ll be one of the many fans. 

“It was supposed to be sarcastic commentary,” Tzuyu tuts, combing her hair over to one side - at the left shoulder, turning her back towards you with the red strands of her dress untied. She peeks over before looking away, fingers fast to knot the ends for a snug fit, pat her collarbones down before tilting down to place a small kiss on her nape. “But on a serious note: do you really think you can handle my little fiasco?” 

You notice that the cars ahead start to slow down, file in line with security personnel stationed along the street, managing traffic. A whole lot of commotion going outside with the photo area, photographers getting ready with their cameras and flashes angled toward the cars, and thank God that the windows are tinted for good reason, brows furrowing in assessing the sea of different media outlets in attendance. 

Tzuyu flows her hair forward, a last minute touch up as she takes a deep breath to calm her mind. You’re playing the stand-in role of bodyguard, checking every side of the car to make sure that things are right in place, avoiding any form of fuck up that might pop up in the next few minutes or so. 

Just when a worker from the red carpet event approaches the door, a buzz vibrates on your thigh. One check later and it’s Tzuyu’s manager. With no hesitation, you answer: 

“Yeah. Oh, okay. Okay. Right, you got it.” 

“I’m trusting you with her. Please don’t fuck this up.” 

“I won’t,” you say, in a melancholic tone to which Tzuyu smirks at. “Good luck with Dahyun? I forgot her name, but it is Dahyun, is it?” 

“Don’t push your luck here, bye.” 

Once that’s gone out of the way, you move over to wave a hand to the worker, signaling a two in your hand to let them know of the delay. After touching bases. You settle back into the backseat, watch as Tzuyu observes from the window, taking in the sight of what she’s dedicated a good portion of her life towards - to thrive in the glares of publicity, get engulfed in the growing flames of fame. She can do a whole lot more than just stand still and look pretty, and you’ll help her there along the way. 

“Still think this is a lot to handle?” You ask, peering over her shoulder, causing her to twist back around to face you. “To be fair, you were pretty nervous when we brought up the incident earlier, so I’m just checking up on you.” 

Tzuyu simply stares, again. Her face may appear blank, but her eyes and the subtle quirk at the corner of her lips tell a different tale entirely. There’s also that sly dimple too, man, she’s too good for you to the point where it’s bad. So what if people already caught wind of her story, you’ve got the contingencies, the fallback if things go south; she got herself into this mess, and you know what you signed up for. 

“They all can go to hell if it comes my way,” says Tzuyu, face falling forward, leaning for a kiss. “Where’s the risk if you don’t run into a cyclone head on?” 

When she gets forward with a hand on the door handle, opening up to reveal herself to the world, you shake your head at her, because that’s another point of discovery to add to her growing list of character: she’ll be the face of this company in record time as long as she keeps acting this way, and you wouldn’t mind staying by her side for whatever is in store. 

Right before she goes any further down the capet, she twirls around on that singular heel on the sidewalk, facing you when you scan the screaming audience, landing your eyes on Tzuyu again - in all of her beauty and elegance, you’ll keep admiring no matter how far or close you are to her. 

An outreaching hand, the simplest gesture, and she asks: “So, are you ready tonight?” 

-

a/n: @co-reborn surprise! not really lol, but this fic is slightly dedicated to them. thank you taking time to read as always <3

[georgescitadel]

I often get the question, “How do you write women?” or “How do you write a dwarf?” Some of that can be resolved by research or talking to people. I had a correspondence with a fan when I was writing the first and second books, long ago, who was a paraplegic, paralyzed from the waist down, and he gave me a lot of valuable insight about how to write Bran and what it would be like. That kind of information from other people, you can never duplicate.

- George R.R. Martin, Ideas At The House (2013)

There are things we all go through, but there are experiences that I haven't had, and when I'm writing about one of those, I try to talk to people who have had that experience. When I first had Bran crippled by his fall from the tower, I had one fan who was paraplegic, and he and I exchanged a number of emails about what it was like to be paraplegic because I could try to imagine that, but I don't actually know it. When I wrote the scene where Sansa has her first period, I talked to a number of women and asked, “What was it like to have your first period? Was it scary? Was it nothing? Was it painful? Tell me about it!” I got about 16 different stories that varied very widely. People who have actually been in combat, I talk to before the combat scenes, and that too varies widely. That's sort of interesting, and, of course, I've read a lot about that. There are some experiences that only women have had in our society, and when I tackle them, I try to consult with women.

- George R.R. Martin, NIFFF Masterclass (2014)

You do have to research the things that can be researched, and sometimes that involves books; sometimes it actually involves talking to people. Those are the trickiest things, if it's a human experience. I'll give you a couple of examples from Game of Thrones. When Bran gets thrown out the window and paralyzed. I'm not paralyzed, I don't have any close friends who are paralyzed, but I wanted to try to get that as accurate as I could, so I did a fair amount of reading about that. I also had a couple of fans who corresponded with me through email about the problems of someone who was paralyzed from the waist down and what it would be like. I also have a scene where Sansa, who is engaged to Joffrey but hasn't flowered yet—hasn't had her first period—so she can't be married by the traditions of Westeros, then has it and is eligible, by medieval standards as well as the standards of Westeros, to be bedded and wedded and bred. Of course, she reacts to that with considerable panic. But I also wanted to know what it is like, and that led to a number of embarrassing conversations with women I knew about: “When did you have your first period? What was it like? Was it painful? Tell me about it!” What I discovered was a wide variety of different stories. It's not always the same thing, so I had to try to make sense of that and do something that had authentic truth to it. Hopefully, I did, but human experience is variable. No matter how much you research, there will be somebody out there who had a different experience, and then they'll write you an annoyed email saying, “You got that all wrong. You don't know anything about that.” Well… okay. But I tried.

- George R.R. Martin, Author Event Series: Featuring Marlon James (2019)

[penkura]

do you remember punk hazard when sanji gets trapped in Nami's body? Can you imagine if Sanji enters the body of Reader, Zoro's girlfriend? Zoro all jealous and protective of his girlfriend, how fun that would be and when zoro catches sanji/nami and brook is oh so romantic, zoro just protects my girlfriend's body

Yes I do remember this and I loved that part! Swapping Nami with Zoro's girlfriend is such a fun idea too!

“This is so stupid.”

It really is, while you hold onto Zoro’s arm though not in your own body, in Nami’s instead. None of you seem to know what happened, why you’re in each other’s bodies, and it’s the biggest thing concerning Zoro right now.

Well, maybe not concerning, instead pissing him off for the fact that Sanji is in your body. Why it turned out that way, however this happened, it doesn’t matter anymore once your group lists off who is who now. Nami is Franky, Chopper is Sanji, Franky is Chopper Sanji is you, and you’re Nami. It’s weird, it’s insane, and Zoro wants to slice up whoever did this when he hears Sanji’s voice from your body.

When Sanji and Brook start to head off to find the Samurai you all brought from the lab, you beg Zoro to go with them to make sure nothing happens to your body. You offer to do his chores, bring him drinks, anything he wants if he’ll go for you, to which he just rolls his eye.

“You don’t have to beg, I’ll go. Only because it’s you.”

You almost cry, hugging Zoro tight to thank him. You do trust Sanji to not do anything weird, but you also know battles are inevitable here, you’d rather not be put back in your body and be injured.

“You’re the best, thank you so much.”

Though you lean up to kiss him, Zoro stops you by pushing you away just a bit, making you pout.

“Not while you’re in Nami’s body.”

“But it’s me…I won’t be mad later!”

“Just…” Zoro sighs, shaking his head, “Rather not make her mad, even if you explained it to Nami later.”

“…okay yeah, fair enough.”

~~

Brook listens to Zoro and Sanji—still in your body—argue as they search for the Samurai head now attached to his legs. It’s very odd to see this, you and Zoro never fight like this, not in public at least, but even then he’s never heard you two calling names or yelling. He knows it’s Sanji in there right now, but it’s just so weird.

Its only out of instinct that, when Sanji takes a bad step and nearly falls, Zoro reaches out and stops him, grabbing your arm to keep your body from hitting the ground.

“Yohoho,” Brook laughs seeing how quickly Zoro stopped to keep your body from being injured, “How romantic!”

“Augh, no!” Giving a glare, Zoro doesn’t let your arm go but pulls your body to your feet, making Sanji scowl at him (it’s not right to see that look on your face), “I only did that because he’s in [Y/N]’s body!”

“And if I wasn’t you would’ve let me fall?!”

“Of course it is! I’m only here because she wants me to protect her body, not you!”

While Sanji starts calling Zoro names like normal, he is glad to know that at least your relationship is stable. Sometimes it feels to Sanji like you do more for Zoro than he does for you, but perhaps it’s different in private.

“I can’t wait to kick your ass once you’re back in your body.”

“Yeah well same here, mosshead.”

Thankfully Zoro didn’t see you’d been switched into Sanji’s body after Law fixed those he could, you’re sure it would’ve led to much, much worse fighting between the two if he knew.

[madschiavelique]

Hi dear, how are you?, could you write an imagine onde reader mentioning offhand how much she would love a whole family. Four, maybe six children? Girls and boys split right down the middle, but the second Miguel hears this (maybe the reader is on the phone, or talking to lyla. or someone at HQ) and Miguel loses his mind

1) Miguel can't help himself and he would grab you and put you on the mattress for a very long time...... or

2) torture himself for two weeks before telling her why he was avoiding her please.

HIHIHI BREEDING BARK BARK (sorry this took so long to write anon zehfrfgh i pulled an all nighter to make this one so also forgive me if there are some mistakes in this gksffgjgbf)

summary : miguel learns you want kids, a lot of kids, so he breeds you

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex - unprotected (be safe kids), breeding kink, soft!dom miguel, obsessive!miguel, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 3,2k

tag list : @fandom-ash @haradasaya

Miguel was on his way to see you. He'd heard that you were back from your mission and that everything had gone well, so he'd come to get you to take you out for lunch.

He was taking advantage of the little free time he had to visit you, even though he would obviously pass this visit off as work-related in everyone's eyes. He had to always, always remain professional and keep everything under control so that everybody could do their bit.

"Six?!" asked Jess, the word choking in her throat.

Well, you were indeed back with Jess.

"Mhm, six," you affirmed as you both busied yourselves filing a report.

What were they talking about? He leaned against a wall. He knew it wasn't very polite to eavesdrop, but the word got around here. Most of society's building had cameras, and everything that was often said or done was recorded here.

He just wanted to listen to you, wondering if there were any topics of conversation that you weren't having with him and with the other spiders. Yes, he was manic, and probably a little too obsessive.

In any case, he wondered what you could have said to Jessica to make her exclaim like that.

"The more the merrier," you laughed softly.

"I hate this sentence so much," sighed Jess.

"Why so?" your voice was sincerely interrogative.

"In this context, it's really not my preferred idiom one might say," she replied as Miguel heard her tapping on a pad to enter more information.

What on earth could they be talking about? he wondered. What subject could suggest that six was far too high a number for Jess's judgement? He knew that Jess was an oragnised woman like himself, with a lot of tact and a fair amount of authority.

Was it perhaps a consecutive number of days doing an activity? Six days of marathon running might have been a bit much, but six days' holiday was never too much. He breathed in very softly, it had been years since he'd had time for such a thing. Did you want to take him on a holiday? If so, the number of days was inordinate. He would never be able to get away from his work for more than three days.

Maybe it was something else then. What was too much in Jess's mind with six?

Six empanadas perhaps? Miguel would obviously disagree. You can never have enough empanada for his taste. But Jess would probably disapprove.

Six... Six pets? It's true that having six pets might be a bit of an exaggeration, at least in Miguel's eyes of course.

Perhaps six books? No, that didn't make sense. Although Jess wasn't a huge reader, she did have a book in her hands from time to time.

So what was it? He was intrigued, that's for sure.

"You know, in my opinion, one kid is already way too much to handle," she sighed, "but six ? Nah, that's some good way of ending your life while still being alive."

But Miguel had barely heard the rest of the sentence, his mind having been caught by a single word: kid. He immediately froze, his heart skipping a beat.

Kid, like... children ? Like, actual human beings ? Small human beings ?

His eyes were wide, his mouth parted. No, he must not have heard correctly, although he dreamed that it was indeed that word that had been uttered.

"Why not? Surrounding ourselves with life is good," you said softly. "I'd love to see six little heads running around. I want three of each, three girls and three boys."

He wasn't mistaken: the discussion was really about the number of children you wanted. Six, he thought, six, six, the word echoing in his mind. He put both his hands on his hips, as if to hold on to something.

He pictured you, your rounded belly, stroking the hair of a child, your child, his child... both your children.

He swallowed, however, as another, immensely more tantalising vision took hold of his mind.

The vision of your cunt, glistening with your desire as from between its lips dripped little by little his own cum, his own seed leaking from you, your belly full of him...

It made his dick twitch for a hot second, and he couldn't remove that image, he didn't want to get rid of that image. The idea that your belly could be full of him, that he could breed you until he had no strength left was magnificent.

"What an egalitarian spirit," Jess noted wryly, "Well, it's all in order."

His thoughts were riveted on the image. He could almost hear in his own mind the sweet melody your moans would make as he came inside you again.

No, it was now impossible for him to think about anything else, he told himself that maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this. Except it's a well-known fact that if you tell someone not to think about something, they'll think about it.

He knew what breeding was, obviously, but what about you? Did you even have a clue what it was?

He tried to pull himself together, he had to either leave here or come towards you and pretend to come naturally. Would he be able to hold it together and act as if nothing had happened? Did he really have a choice in the matter after all? He breathed in, tightening his jaw as he decided to come towards you.

He walked purposefully, his usual grumpy face set surprisingly naturally as he advanced towards you.

"Ah, you're back," he sighed as if pleasantly surprised to see you both here, "how was the mission?"

"Excellent," Jess affirmed, "we've just finished the report, the anomaly has been taken care of as it should have been since we arrived."

He nodded, his serious face opening a control pad to check what she was saying and opening the file in question, pretending to read its contents. He had the impression that everywhere he looked the image came right back to him, on every tile, on every screen, everywhere in his mind.

"That's good work," he breathed.

"Damn right," nodded Jess. " Well, I'm off to join my own little demon, take care you two."

"See ya," you replied as she headed for the exit.

He wondered by what superhuman strength he managed to remain unwavering and stoic.

You moved closer to him, hugging his back and comforting yourself in the embrace.

"How was your day?" you asked, squeezing him in your arms.

Unwavering and stoic, Miguel, you have to remain unwavering and stoic.

You put your hands on his body, and with one touch his concentration was simply wiped out.

He turned to you, smiling a strange, uncertain smile as he stroked your hair, a little tense.

"You know how it is, just a lot of work," but his eyes were watching yours strangely, a flash of a vision where they were filled with desire looking back at him.

You studied him for a moment, noticing how distracted he seemed, his eyes looking at you in a strange way. You could feel a kind of desire there, a kind of longing, but you couldn't work out what it was.

"Is... everything alright?"

He shuddered, obviously his little show wasn't going to last much longer. He broke away from your embrace, he couldn't keep looking at you like that.

"Hey," you said softly, "you know you can tell me everything, right?"

Could I tell you this ? he wondered. He looked at you for a moment, another flash of you all moaning and covered in hickeys and marks on your body as you breathed his name. He looked away, closing his eyes in the hopes the flashes would stop.

"I'm afraid I cannot speak about this..."

But how he wanted to speak about this, to tell you how much he wanted to fuck you until you were full of him, until the only thing present in your mouth was his name and how much he wanted to see the sight of your round belly.

But you wouldn't listen to his silence. So you walked over to him and took his hand.

"Miguel, look at me. you asked, and he looked at you, his visions mingling with the reality where you were looking at him, worried. "Tell me."

He sighed. He couldn't run away from his ideas forever, run away from these images that he wanted to see in reality and not just in his mind. He wanted to raise his idea from the theoretical to the practical, and it was with an almost guilty breath that he admitted:

"I want to breed you."

There was a slight silence, his eyes plunged into yours, desperate to know what you were thinking. But above all he was met with confusion.

"What's breeding?" You had an idea of the term, usually used animalistically for the subject of... reproduction and maintenance of species. But just to be on the safe side with Miguel, you preferred to ask him anyway.

His lungs swelled like sails, did he really have to go through this?

"Why don't you ask Lyla what it is?" he suggested.

"Because I want to hear it from you, with your words" you assured him, your tone a mixture of strictness and curiosity.

He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, slightly afraid of your reaction. You were practically hanging on his every word, waiting for him to explain.

"Breeding is... the act of a male and a female animal having sex, also known as mating, to reproduce..." he explained, pausing, "and procreate."

Your eyes widened slightly, and the possibility that he had overheard your previous conversation with Jess came to mind. All the same, you looked at him almost inscrutably, and he couldn't work out what you were thinking.

But now that the words had been said, he could no longer hide, no, he no longer had to hide. His thoughts were finally out, burning on his skin and lips.

He moved forward a little more, his gaze suddenly darkened by the desires he was no longer hiding.

"I want to fill you up with my cum and make sure you get pregnant."

Your lips were parted, your surprised eyes looking into his, black with desire and longing. A silence filled the air, both your hearts beating loudly in both your bodies. Miguel waited for an answer, unaware of the warm cloud that had settled in your lower belly.

He chuckled a little, an understanding smile gracing his lips as he said:

"See, your silence tells me enoug-"

"Breed me," you cut him off.

He stopped moving immediately, the statement immobilising him just like when he had understood what you and Jess were talking about.

Had his mind and his fantasies come together to play tricks on him? Or had you actually agreed with what he'd just said?

"What?" he said, his pronunciation almost slurred as he turned his attention to your next words.

"Breed me, Miguel" you repeated, determined as you swallowed in anticipation. "I want to carry you... in me."

The gleam in his eyes was almost predatory, but after all, wasn't that the very essence of breeding? The raw nature of it, the bestiality, the quenching of the oldest instinct that ever was.

You only had time to see his eyes turn red as he lunged for your lips, kissing you with his mouth wide open as your teeth almost clashed and he attacked your tongue.

The power with which he kissed you made you take a step backwards, but you weren't going anywhere, because Miguel immediately placed his hand in the small of your back to make sure he had you close to him.

He let out grunts between kisses, his hunger for your skin lengthening his canines as they brushed almost dangerously against your tongue.

Then he lifted you in one swift movement, placing you on his shoulder as he headed for the door leading to his quarters, his impatience growing faster than ever. You bit your lip, already swollen from his kisses, his hand gripping your thigh firmly as he led you to the bed.

He laid you down, following every movement of your body as he kissed you again. He stood back for a moment, watching your body.

"Do you have sentimental value for your suit?"

"What?" you asked, confused by the sudden question.

"Just answer," he asked through clenched teeth.

"I mean it's old but I can live withou-"

You hadn't even finished your sentence when he ripped off your suit with an ease that sent shivers down your spine, ripping the fabric covering your cunt, tearing your panties and throwing all the rags into the rest of the room.

"No questions about the sentimental value of my underwear?" you laugh lightly.

"I'll get you some new ones," he breathed, a carnivorous sneer inhabiting his lips, "I'll take great care in chosing them."

You swallowed as he kissed your neck, nestling in and marking your skin with thirst. He straightened to kiss your lips, and whispered against them:

"Turn over, get down on your elbows and knees".

You complied, his instructions increasing the size of the cloud of heat in your belly. You placed your folded arms flat on the sheets, your knees slightly apart.

"Lift your hips for me, nena," he commanded in a tone as soft as cotton.

You listened, arching your back as you lifted your hips, your ass gloriously up just for him to fuck. He swallowed, his hand coming to grip one of your buttocks and pulling it apart, pressing it between his fingers and gripping your skin full hand.

"Already so good and wet for me," he mused, one of his fingers passing between your folds.

Of course you were already wet, the way he had introduced the concept to you making you all fuzzy and warm in your belly. You'd never been against the idea of Miguel being a bit more violent, and to be honest you were excited by the idea of him being so from now on.

Once he'd coated himself sufficiently, he pushed one finger into you, soft moans falling from your lips filling the room. He added another one, and your lust was growing by the second. You were getting impatient too, but you couldn't help noticing that Miguel simply couldn't wait any longer.

Miguel was always very keen about taking his time, preparing you well apart from the few moments when one of you needed a quicky, but here eagerness was getting the better of him, and above all his most instinctive desires buried deep inside him had taken the reigns of all his actions.

The thought of him being in you through your core made him feel so drunk on you. These ideas had already been marinating in his mind for a while, it had only taken this conversation between you and Jess to flip the switch. And he observed in adoration, seeing you like this, underneath him with your much smaller frame, sitting up and ready to take him.

"Hands behind your back."

His orders became more and more urgent, his tone wavering with envy. It was impossible for him to formulate a whole sentence.

So you laid your face on the sheets, cheek pressed to your side as you brought your hands behind your back, joining your wrists together like you were imagining yourself handcuffed. You shivered as his hand, whose fingers had previously been inside you, reached out from between your folds and took both your wrists at the same time, locking them in this embrace. His hand was obviously big enough to hold both your wrists together and prevent you from breaking free from his grip.

He had locked you completely.

He had blocked out any possibility of you making a move other than squirming around him. Miguel would never tire of this control, this hold he had over you right now. You were his, nobody else's, and he would let eveybody know this by fucking his seed into you and get as many babies as you wanted.

That's when you felt the head of his dick coating itself with your juices, preparing to burry himself into you. You couldn't see Miguel like this, but you could hear him. Dark growls vibrated in his throat, deeper than you'd ever heard them before, and it felt intimidating.

He thrust, pushing his tip into you, and you let out a groan of relief that sank into the fabric of the sheets. You breathed softly, letting Miguel's thick, long cock sink into you. No matter how many times you had done it, taken him like that, you still couldn't get used to it.

His lower belly finally touched the skin of your ass, his dick deep inside you. And you felt him pressing against your stomach. You knew that if you brought one of your hands to your stomach, you'd feel the shape of his cock against your skin.

He was so deep in you, an almost bestial growl escaped him as he slowly began to pull back before thrusting in hard.

You let out a little cry of surprise and pleasure that echoed around the room, and he repeated the same gesture. He kept bearing down on you until he touched your slick on his lower belly and pulling away, pushing back in the next second until it'd touch his balls.

Your body was burning, unable to do anything but arch your back more and groan. Your hands were gripping the void, and the impossibility of finding a foothold in all this was making you feel out of control. But you were enjoying the sensations he was giving you, and so was he.

He listened to the symphony of your voice as he picked up the pace, the feeling of your gummy walls wrapping all tight and warm around him was absolute perfection to him.

He knew it wouldn't be long before his first cum would hit, but he needn't have worried. Miguel could go on for a long, long time, and he just hoped that you could keep up, although he had no doubt that his best girl would live up to his expectations.

He could no longer string a sentence together properly, the words he was trying to whisper as he sank deep inside you coming out as if chewed up by his long fangs.

He grunted, his rhythm and the tilt of your two bodies giving you both exceptional sensations. The knot in your stomach tightened, threatening to burst as Miguel came closer.

And the world stopped spinning for a second.

You came together, your walls closing spasmodically around him as you felt him spill into you. Because that's what you wanted, right ? That's the one thing you desired, and he was going to give it to you entirely.

He pulled out, just for the pleasure of seeing the work he had so long dreamed of seeing. And the satisfaction was superb, his white creamy cum slowly pouring out of your wet cunt, still pulsing with desire.

A dark laugh rose from his throat as he sank back into you and you let out a startled moan. He lowered himself, his lips pressing against your ear.

"I hope you thought of six names."

It would be a long, long night.

[slytherinslut0]

hey can you please do tom x hufflepuff reader hcs??

Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader headcanons.

(A/N: idk how this ended up being so long. i got carried away. i love tom. i love his complexity. i could write about him forever. anyways, enjoy:))

tom riddle and a hufflepuff reader would be damn near polar opposites, and there are a few reasons why i say this->

tom is a very reserved man, yet undoubtedly driven by an ambitious and power-hungry nature, always seeking dominance and control in every aspect of his life.

hufflepuffs, on the other hand, are known for their kindness, their loyalty, prioritizing the well-being of others over personal ambition.

tom riddle is the type of man who is not afraid to deceive others for personal gain, while hufflepuffs value fairness and honesty in each of their interactions.

not to mention how tom is emotionally restrained, rarely displaying vulnerability or empathy, while hufflepuffs are known for being emotionally open and expressing genuine care/understanding for others.

i believe tom would be rather annoyed by hufflepuffs, perhaps even put off by their loud, outgoing nature, but i also feel as though he would respect them more than other houses because they are known for being more by-the-book.

i believe this pairing would be WONDERFUL for him, and i’d imagine it’d go a little like this->

perhaps you and tom would be involuntarily paired up for an assignment, an unlikely collaboration that tom figured would be an easy mark for him.

originally, he’d find himself irritated by your constant cheerful and optimistic nature; finding it rather absurd that you weren’t at all fazed by his cold, cunning attitude.

there’d definitely be initial clashes between the two of you, disagreements of methods, but tom would find himself stunned as you met every one of his suggestions with a positive, passionate attitude, not daring to get discouraged or frustrated with him.

your unwavering optimism would be shocking to him. especially in the face of his calculated cynicism. it’d be then, that tom would be astonished by your dedication and genuine passion for learning, a rare quality to obtain.

his initial cold, guarded demeanour would slowly begin to fade.

tom would find himself beginning to pay more attention to you, his curiosity extending to outside the confines of the classroom.

he’d begin to wonder if your genuine kindness is truly authentic or merely a manipulation tactic, leading him to question the sincerity of your character.

which he’d only question because that’s the way his mind works.

he’d never known someone so open and genuine like you. he’d convince himself you had ulterior motives.

however, tom would quickly observe that your authenticity extended universally, and was not just directed at him.

your small acts of kindness and interactions with strangers became evident, and he’d witness your unwavering positivity even in the most challenging situations.

he’d notice how thoughtful you are, how you’d spend your free time maintaining the Owlery, ensuring it’s well-kept and sanitary.

he’d watch you from a distance as you continually brought the owls food and water, giving them attention and love which was something you did upon your own accord, without expecting any compensation.

it became clear to him that you did these things because you genuinely loved to do them, not because you wanted praise for it. and at this, tom was completely taken aback.

your radiant smile, capable of lighting up any room, would become a revelation to him, leaving him puzzled about how he initially overlooked this aspect of your character for all those years.

it’d be here that inner turmoil would begin to brew within tom as he’d have no choice but to acknowledge your ability to see the good within everything and everyone, and especially within him. something not many people are capable of.

as time passed, you couldn't help but notice a gradual softening in him.

during your collaborative sessions on the assignment, he became more receptive to your ideas, actively seeking your thoughts.

surprisingly, he started engaging in conversations beyond the project, asking about your day and exhibiting small changes in his demeanour that were entirely new to you.

tom was breaking, his walls slowly being chipped away by your infectious smile and enthusiasm.

the unexplainable shift in his perspective both intrigued and unsettled him, as you became the catalyst for awakening emotions he never believed he could feel.

he’d try to fight back, he’d try to get himself together, but it was useless. you were in his head, and there was no getting you out.

however, given the fact that tom struggles with showing even the smallest amounts of vulnerability, he’d try to be as subtle as possible with his interest in you. hoping that you’d eventually catch on.

perhaps he’d begin with small gestures, like gifting you a book on rare and beautiful magical creatures, saying that he noticed it in the library and thought of you, believing you might like it.

it would not go unnoticed by you just how considerate this was, and just how much he’d begun to take awareness of your interests.

you found yourself engrossed in the book, a sight that never failed to bring a subtle smile to tom’s face whenever he spotted you across the hall.

observing you immersed in the pages made him quietly content, often requiring a conscious effort on his part to break himself free from the captivation.

his brain would be screaming, “what the hell am i doing?” but he wouldn’t be able to deny just how much he loved seeing you enthralled by the gift.

the feeling was intoxicating, and wholly unfamiliar; he needed more. he needed to do more.

perhaps the next move he’d make would be to gift you a rare enchanted plant, after having noted your love for herbology.

he’d present the plant to you in a subtle way, saying that he’d found it while taking a stroll through the forest and thought you’d like it.

he’d go into details about its properties, its rarity and how to effectively take care of it, even though he knew you already knew all of this.

he knew you absolutely loved the fact that he cared for these plants just as much as you did. this was all part of his plan.

and of course, at this point, you’d have the hunch that he was into you; but being as perceptive and intuitive as you are, you’d know that pestering tom or trying to force him to admit feelings would be useless.

the man moves at his own pace.

so instead, you’d invite him to join you as you cleaned the Owlery, wanting to spend more time with him. the two of you would gradually become closer and closer, tom’s harsh demeanour fading away with the wind with each passing day.

and even still, tom hardly made any advances. tom hardly wanted to put himself in a vulnerable position. he wanted to be sure you wanted him before he ever revealed his intentions.

if he was touchy with you, he’d never insinuate it was because he’s into you. he’d kiss you on the cheek after walking you back to your dorm for the night, and then act like nothing ever happened in the morning.

and this might have annoyed some, but not you.

you understood that this is how tom was, and you admired him for it. you were entirely understanding. you wanted him to open up on his own terms, and you were willing to wait for him.

eventually, tom knew he couldn’t hold back his feelings anymore. he knew he needed to make you his. he knew he’d do fucking anything.

and this feeling would only multiply as he spotted you across the courtyard, speaking to a boy from your house.

your smile was glowing, your laugh was radiating, and the feeling this sight inspired inside tom’s heart could have been enough to ignite the entire castle into pure fucking flame.

whatever he was doing at this moment didn’t matter anymore, he only had one objective in mind.

making you his.

without waiting for you to finish your conversation, he’d interrupt, stating he needed to speak to you.

you’d smile, sensing his urgency, and follow him over to the far side of the courtyard, looking out at the breathtaking view of the faraway valleys and mountains.

as soon as tom was content with your seclusion, he’d cup the back of your head and crash his lips to yours, kissing you with enough fervour to make up for all the days and weeks and months he’d wished he’d have made a proper move.

pulling back, he’d meet your eyes. “i need you to be mine,” he’d whisper, as though the words scared him. “you’ve made me feel things i’ve never known possible, you’ve broken me down without effort. you are the most beautiful, genuine woman i’ve ever met, and i have been falling in love with you for months…i can’t hide it anymore, i need you…”

the words would be music to your ears, the joy unfathomable.

of course, you’d be his.

[ceesimz]

Who falls in love in November?

part 2 of this, also known as the happy ending everyone wanted :)

Alexia had three days remaining of her time in Menorca after you left. Never in her life had a vacation been so miserable.

Even without you there, her head was constantly on a swivel when she was out, hoping she’d turn a corner and you were there waiting for her. She was withdrawn from social occasions with friends, stuck in her head thinking about how much she wished you were by her side.

But it wasn’t going to happen. It didn’t happen.

And to top it all off, she had no evidence you even existed aside from the book you gifted her, as if you were merely a figure of her imagination. A daydream she didn’t want to come out of. It was simultaneously the best and worst summer of her life, because she had you, and then she didn’t. You slipped out of her grasp before she could do anything about it, and that fact was eating her up inside. 

To be honest, as she boarded her plane home, she had never been so grateful for a vacation to end. She slumped into her seat after storing away her suitcase and sighed heavily, looking out of the window of the place that she currently held mixed feelings about. The whole island was tainted by you and the memories that remained. At the thought, she slammed the window cover shut. It was a pitiful attempt to shove you out of her mind; to be fair to her, it worked for a few seconds. Except, when she reached into her backpack by her feet, her hand grabbed something and pulled it out.

Your book. The only thing that remained of your relationship. 

Relationship? Could it be classed as that? Probably not. But what else could she call it? The greatest mistake of her life?

Since she opened the first page the night you gave it to her, she had probably read the note there a hundred times. And so what if she had traced the curvature of your handwriting with her finger as her eyes burned with tears that night? You weren’t there to see it, that’s the only thing that mattered to her. 

This book means a lot to me, and from all the wonderful things I know about you so far, I think you’ll like it too. We haven’t known each other for very long but I hope that changes because you’ve already had a better effect on me than anyone I have ever met, and for that I am so grateful. Let me know when you finish it.

That last sentence, as well as the accompanying smiley face that was exactly the same as the one you had drawn on another note to her a few days prior, mocked her. She couldn’t reach you if she tried. She only had your first name and the city you lived in, there was nothing to go off of if she attempted to find you. The worst part of it all is that you could be her neighbour for all she knows, but the only thing she could do was hope that your worlds aligned sooner rather than later. You could live in the apartment right beside hers, or above it, or below. The possibilities were endless and it killed her. 

Maybe it was sad and pathetic, but she couldn’t bring herself to read the story. There had been one attempt so far, and it only resulted in a throbbing headache, puffy red eyes, and a damp pillow. Another sigh left her lips as she dropped it back into her bag and zipped it up with more aggression than necessary, earning a strange glance from the flight attendant that walked past her just as she did so. 

A little while passed before the plane got ready for take-off, and ever the rule-stickler, Alexia took one of her earphones out as the safety video played out. At that point, she realised just how screwed she was, because she couldn’t even look at a life vest on a fucking plane without thinking back to that day with you on the boat.

“Qué coño estoy haciendo?” She grumbled under her breath, slipping her earphone back in and resting her head back against the seat, eyes closed. 

Unfortunately, that was a question she would repeat to herself a hell of a lot the following months. Because, really, not a day passed by without her thoughts being infiltrated by those days with you. The second she closed her eyes at night, she saw your face. When she woke up in the morning, she wished you were beside her, even despite the fact she had never once shared a bed with you.

At one point, sometime in September, she even found herself going along to one of Mapi’s dinners in Barcelona that she always planned. Alexia had been invited to every single one in the past few years since the defender had started organising them with her closest friends, but the blonde had only attended a handful in that time. Her attendance for this one was solely for the purpose of seeing you. 

However, you didn’t show up.

There was one chair at the end of the table empty, and though no one ever took it, Alexia couldn’t tear her eyes away. She had a vacant expression on her face throughout the whole duration of the evening, forcing a smile when she had to and keeping her responses short. The people there that didn’t know her too well were probably a little weirded out, but Mapi could see heartbreak in her eyes and the realisation of what likely happened brought a frown to her face. She didn’t want to intrude on a situation she knew Alexia would prefer to keep private, but it hurt to see her friend so down like she was. 

Only one conversation topic truly piqued her interest that evening. Near the end of the night, someone asked why you weren’t there. The single mention of your name had her heart racing.

“-has gone to England to see her family for a while.” 

The person talking, who Alexia assumed was your friend, went on a bit more about your whereabouts, but the blonde had tuned out of it as soon as she heard that you weren’t even in the country, nevermind the city. 

She had the urge to just get up and walk out of the restaurant there and then at the news, but she was here, at a restaurant with alcohol available to her, and instead she decided to throw her personal laws out the window for the night and have a few drinks. They didn’t numb the pain, in fact they probably made it more prominent. Alarm bells were ringing in Mapi’s head at the sight of her friend with an alcoholic drink in her hand, especially since the new season had just started, and she waited until everyone was leaving to bring it up.

“Ale, Ale, espera.” The shorter woman lightly grabbed her friend by the arm just as she started the walk back to her apartment. “Qué passa?”

“No, Mapi.” Alexia mumbled, shaking her head and continuing to walk. Mapi kept up the pace beside her, allowing the silence to sit for a bit, before the older woman sniffled a little. 

“Oye. Habla, ahora.” Mapi demanded, halting their movements on the sidewalk as Alexia kept her head down.

“No es importante.” Alexia shrugged dismissively, opting out of looking at Mapi and instead observing the streets she had walked all of her life. Ones that you have probably walked too.

“Es importante!” Mapi argued, before she pushed down her frustration and addressed her captain much more calmly. “Si estás así de triste, es muy importante, Alexia.”

“Stop, Mapi! Leave it, it has nothing to do with you.” Alexia snapped, before turning away and heading back in the direction of her flat. 

The fact she slipped into English, now of all times, told Mapi everything she needed to know. Things hadn’t gone smoothly between you and Alexia. Whatever happened, Mapi would stay out of it until she was needed. That didn’t mean she was any less disappointed at it though. Not at you, or Alexia, because regardless of what had or hadn’t gone on, she didn’t blame you and she knows neither of you would have blamed each other too. Whatever had occurred was left in the hands of the world to sort it out.

Though, if she had known it was just a miscommunication that could have been easily solved, she would have grabbed you both by the ears and lectured you to no end. 

The truth is, if Alexia wasn’t so stuck in her misery and just read the book given to her, all of her problems would have been solved. In her opinion, if she did read it, it would just mean finding out more about you that she couldn’t have. But, as a matter of fact, getting to the end of the story would give her the one thing she wanted all along.

By the time November rolled around, Alexia and the rest of the Barcelona team were well into the season in most competitions already. The league was going well, they had won the two Champion’s League games so far, and they had just beaten Real Madrid in the first game of the fifth, albeit unofficial, infamous competition of the season- El Clásico.

A win like that always had to be celebrated, and none of the blaugrana players were going to pass up a night of partying in Barcelona afterwards. 

There was just one small thing Mapi failed to tell Alexia before they arrived at the club, however.

—

Your life after that vacation didn’t really change. The only noticeable difference was the heartache and the anguish you felt after arriving home that no one would understand. In secret you met, in silence you have to grieve. 

Except, your pain wasn’t quite the same as Alexia’s. Hers surely had an expiration date, she would get over you at some point. Yours would only get stronger the longer you spent apart from her, the anxiety turning the scenario you were in from a nightmare into a reality.

You had no doubts that Alexia was a busy person, so for a few weeks, you gave her the benefit of the doubt when it came to reading. But a few weeks turned into a month, then one turned into two, and before you knew it, it was November. Maybe she didn’t want to see you again after all, maybe those few days were enough for her.

That summer felt like a lifetime ago, an out of this world experience that was nothing more than a dream. But it was real, you know it was, because you still feel the phantom touch of her lips on your shoulder and the comfortable warmth of her hand in yours. You still remember every detail about her, like the moles on her face and the depth to her hazel eyes, or the tattoos on her back and the strength of her arms when she embraced you. Not even your wildest dreams could have created such a person like Alexia. She was more than anything you could have wished for.

Perhaps you could have searched her up online, the blonde was apparently a prominent public figure after all, so it probably wasn’t that hard to find out more about her. You didn’t want to do that though, in the weirdest way, it would feel like invading her privacy. What could be found online was most likely not a true representation of her. Though she wasn’t yours anymore, and she never really was in the first place, you knew the media’s perception of her would be so different to who she actually was, and indulging in that would be a disservice to the woman you had the honour to love, even if that was for just a week.

In your time since Menorca, you had gone back to your normal life like nothing had happened. As if nothing had changed outwardly, when internally, everything had changed. You had been introduced to the true beauty of life, what it means to feel seen, only to have it ripped away from you. And maybe it was your fault that it wasn’t yours to experience anymore. If you could go back in time to that final moment in the bar, you would have done everything differently, especially if you had known it would end like this.

At some point in September, the city you loved became nothing but a mental challenge. Alexia could be anywhere, yet in your opinion, there was no morally correct way to try and find her. It all got too much, and you had to escape. Going back to England seemed like a good idea at first, however in hindsight, it just made things worse. Somehow it made the pain, regret, sorrow, it made all of it reach new heights. During the taxi ride back to your apartment in Barcelona afterwards, there were tears in your eyes that hardly left for the next two months. No matter what you tried, you couldn’t get her out of your mind, even though you were probably long gone from hers.

A night out in the city sounded perfect suddenly, in November. One mention of it from a friend of a friend, and you were in. There was some special occasion apparently, according to María, but you didn’t care that much to pay attention. All you knew was that the club was booked for you all, there was a ticket with your name on it, and alcohol waiting for you.

Only, you didn’t expect to meet a familiar pair of eyes at the bar a few hours into the night. 

“Ale?” You whispered under your breath at the sight of the woman a few metres to your right, leaning against the bar with a near empty beer bottle in her hand. 

With the music thumping throughout the club, there was no way she heard you. But her eyes averted to her left anyway, and they landed straight on you. Her entire body froze, eyes wide whilst the rest of her face seemed void of emotion. It was hard to get a read on her and considering there was a fair amount of alcohol in your system by this point, it wasn’t surprising when the anxiety took over and made you doubt everything. 

Did she still feel the same way about you? Was there already somebody else for her? Maybe you didn’t mean as much to her as she did to you. There were probably thousands of other people she could have, when you took her supposed stardom into account. The scale of her fame was still a mystery to you, but at that moment it was too overwhelming to think about. What business did she have falling in love with someone who was nothing more than a fly on the wall?

Nobody ever noticed you, you were just there. Alexia was… Alexia. There weren’t enough words in any and all languages to describe what a person she was. 

Unbeknownst to you, Alexia was freaking out too. Not in the way one would initially expect, though; there was one overwhelming feeling for her that wasn’t fear or anxiety, it was relief. Complete, utter, all-consuming relief, because you were right in front of her. Within arms reach, basically. Despite all the possibilities that could occur from here on out, she was just happy to see you. 

However, her face hadn’t changed in the time the pair of you had been staring at each other agasp for the past however long, and it didn’t change as she cautiously took a few steps closer to you. With each step she took, your anxiety grew. It grew and grew, until she was about a metre away, and it reached its peak.

In true anxiety fashion, the fight or flight kicked in.

A proper glance at her face and you were breathless, and not in the swooning, romantic way, but instead out of pure panic. The club was too loud, too restricting and suffocating, and the only option that seemed plausible was getting the hell out. You didn’t care about the people you bumped into, or the voice shouting after you. The situation that confronted you back at the bar was more than you could handle and it seemed to be an insurmountable challenge that you weren’t quite prepared for. 

In your mind, Alexia was done with you. The heartbreak was tearing through you already and had been for months now, you didn’t need a run in with her to increase that, and you definitely didn’t want closure. Too long had passed, you had grown content with the realisation that she had moved on seamlessly.

It took a matter of seconds for Alexia to lose sight of you in the crowded room, and what didn’t help was the sudden barrage of teammates that seemed determined to drag her to the dancefloor. They were buzzing off their copious amounts of alcohol compared to her one bottle of beer, completely unaware of the turmoil she was going through due to the winning high they were still riding. She saw the disappointed look on their faces as she brushed them off and it hurt for a moment, before she remembered the situation she was in, and then the celebrations were forgotten entirely. 

The moment she exited the club, she spotted you outside the next building over, a restaurant with outdoor seating that was closed due to the late hour. You were sat in one of the chairs there, head in your hands with a leg bouncing out of intense anxiety. Alexia knew she was the reason for your current state, it didn’t take a genius to figure that out, but she also didn’t want to leave you alone when you were so clearly worked up. If you pushed her away, fine, she’d leave. She just wanted to try first.

As she prudently walked over to you with a few gentle calls of your name, like she were approaching a skittish animal, you glanced through your fingers to find the one person at the centre of your anxiety approaching you. Rather than tell her to leave, or get everything off your chest in a ‘screw you’ way, or simply pretend she didn’t exist, you removed your hands and sat up like you weren’t just having an anxiety attack. Your people-pleasing habit had no boundaries. 

“Are… are you okay?” Alexia asked softly, standing a few feet in front of you with her hands, that itched to reach out and comfort you, holding onto the chair behind her which she leaned on just as an excuse to nervously fidget with something not too obvious. 

“I will be.” You gave her a tight-lipped smile that you paired with a quick sniffle and a brush away of the tears on your cheeks. 

To anyone else, this whole situation probably seemed ridiculous and unnecessary. Why not just exchange details in the first place? Why not ask Mapi, a mutual friend, for the other person’s details? There were so many seemingly obvious solutions and ways this could have been prevented. 

But love isn’t so simple. It’s a risk to take, a fact that often goes unacknowledged and underappreciated. Especially when your heart has already been broken and stuck back together so many times, it’s hard to hand it over again. It is a delicate organ, the only one other than the brain that has the ability to feel, to hold sentiment and adoration. 

There’s no rhyme or reason as to why people decide to harm it, but Alexia isn’t one of those people. She’d take your damaged goods and glue them back together with gold if she could, and you’d do the same for her. When all is said and done, there is no blame or resentment present, just guilt and regret. Your souls are too pure for hatred, they’re professionals at harbouring love for those around no matter what, and it’s evident with the way you both treat each other, despite all the unspoken sorrow and devastation individually experienced during all these months. 

A week of pure, whole-hearted, unconditional love was worth all the months of anguish. That was an easy conclusion both of you had come to somewhere along the way.

“I…” There was so much that Alexia wanted to say, but she had no idea how to verbalise any of it or where to even start. She believed that nothing she could say would live up to the moment. 

“We don’t have to do this, Ale.” You decided for her. Your words exuded a confidence that wasn’t there at all, and you figured that it was probably evident in your anxiety-filled appearance, but what’s the harm in trying. 

“Do what?” Alexia replied with her face scrunched in fearful confusion. Ale. She had missed you saying that. 

“Do the awkward back and forth whilst ignoring the fact we fell in love four months ago.” 

It hurt to admit it out loud. 

For months, this pain had been nothing but an internal one, hidden in the background of your thoughts at all points of the day whilst the world around you was none the wiser. The only external signs of such an event were the mascara stains on your pillow after a night of crying and the tear tracks engraved onto your cheeks when walking into work the next day.

You fell in love four months ago. And the person you were still in love with stood before you. But time had passed, and perhaps that love had to be left behind. 

“Maybe I don’t want to ignore that.” Alexia’s shoulders were up in a shrug for a few moments, her heart beating away so fast in her chest that a pit of nausea had formed at the sentence she had just uttered. You looked up at her through tears that glistened in the street lamps, a glint of hope in your eyes that you loathed. In just one statement, you were wrapped around her finger again. 

“What do you mean?” You questioned firmly, voice distant despite the crack in the middle of it.

“Maybe… I am still in love with you.” 

Laughter wasn’t quite the response Alexia was expecting, especially spiteful laughter. Disapproving laughter with anger so clear in its undertones. 

“How can you say that after you’ve obviously moved on? After I’ve heard nothing from you all these months?” You scoffed. Your pent-up exasperation wasn’t even at Alexia, she just so happened to be there and saying all the wrong things to act as the catalyst for the eruption.

No, the anger was entirely at yourself. You opened up your heart to someone you knew you couldn’t have, and still had the audacity to be so hurt by the anticipated turn of events. Alexia was never to blame, it was you. 

“What? I don't understand.” Alexia retorted, and it’s unexplainably hard to continue your onslaught of misdirected blame when there’s so much pain in her voice.

“You had so much time to contact me, and yet you didn’t. I can read the room, Ale, I can tell when I’m not wanted, and I get it.” The fight left you then, your body deflating of all its tension as you curled back into yourself. 

“I had no way to get to you! I don’t get it, cariño, I really don’t, because I have loved you still all these months and I missed you, and if I did have a way to get to you, I would have taken it because I have lost myself after losing you!” 

“Oh, so I just gave you my favourite book with my number in the back of it for no reason then?” You scoffed once more, shaking your head as you willed the tears away once more.

Just a few feet in front of you, Alexia was going through about a million different emotions, thoughts, feelings, all that good stuff, at once. Her head was spinning, dizzy at the gravity of what you just said. 

“I didn’t read your book.” Alexia whispered, her voice quiet and dripping with awe, still stuck in regretful astonishment at the fact the solution to everything had been under her hands all this time. 

Your number, in the back of the book that was right beside her bed. She had you right under her fingertips and she didn’t even know it. 

“What do you mean?” You asked in the same tone.

“I could not bring myself to read it because I missed you too much. Your number is really in the back? You are not doing some… some cruel joke?”

As if you’d ever.

“No! I swear, I wrote it in there that night in the bar when I gave it to you. I thought you saw me write in it!” You exclaimed, overcome with all sorts of emotions at the new revelation. 

It had been a stupid mishap, nothing more. No malicious intent on either side, no animosity (aside from the last few minutes), and most of all, throughout this whole thing, there had been no love lost. It was just a mutual misunderstanding. That label felt too simple for all the turmoil that had occurred, yet at the same time, an exhilarating amount of relief came with it which soon overrode the seething irritation that flashed by. The possibility of exploring a relationship with Alexia was so much more thrilling to focus on than all that could be different.

There was no use in dwelling on what could have been if this mistake hadn’t happened. Far too often have you done that in the past, and it’s never gotten you anywhere. Alexia had done the same during those lonesome nights after hours spent in the presence of thousands of people in stadiums across the world - going from being surrounded by countless adoring fans to nothing but overwhelming silence was something she had struggled with. It opened up a world of vulnerabilities for her, as she thought and thought and thought until the mental exertion exhausted her and she finally fell asleep. 

Something that came with her ACL injury was the introduction of a psychologist, and it had forced her to change so many aspects of her life for the better. Like in this scenario now, where just like you, she wanted to disregard what hasn’t happened, and instead focus on the moment, and all the amazing things that could happen. Because, really, what was standing in her way apart from the threat of a road not taken? And the best thing of all, is that with one look in your eye, she knew you felt the same.

She knew you wanted the simplicity, rather than making it more difficult for yourselves which had happened already since that last goodbye in the bar. Once the realisation settled, the only thing left to do was acknowledge that fact.

“I didn’t. I didn’t see you write in the back, only the front.” Alexia murmured, pausing for a few seconds as the pair of you fell silent. 

The pulse of the music could be faintly heard, as could the distant chatter of people passing by, but none of that mattered when the prospect of the future hung within reach between you both. It was that that had Alexia turning the chair she held onto around and slumping down into it out of shock. The adrenaline had run its course, and now it left a tranquil euphoria, a brewing excitement that took its time to build. 

“So… you haven’t moved on.” You said about a minute later, holding back a smile that broke out anyway when Alexia laughed at it all. 

“No. Not at all.” 

Words seemed a little useless from then on. There were coy smiles on each of your faces afterwards, when everything had been hashed out and made clear despite it being slightly overdue. The only thing you could do was stand from your chair, walk the short distance that separated you both, and gaze down expectantly at Alexia. She stood too, the tables turning so that she was the one looking down now, but that didn’t matter for long, because before you knew it, her arms were back around you and embracing you so tightly that your feet lifted off the ground. You laughed into her neck, which in turn made her laugh too, and then the pair of you were just a mess in each other's arms. 

It felt like someone had come along and stoked the fire in your heart again. The coldness that had settled in your bones at some point during the last months was gone, instead it had been replaced with the love you’d lacked for too long. This time, it didn’t have a time limit, you were free to relish in the fact that from this day on, there was always going to be someone on your side, a person there just for you. And there was a certain level of pride that came in knowing you were going to be that for Alexia too, because the way she held you so close to her heart, metaphorically and in this moment literally too, told you enough about how she felt. 

When you leaned back and looked up at her, you saw the future in her eyes, one that didn’t seem so dauntingly alone and gloomy. There were also tears there too, to your surprise, and it only amplified what you knew about her already; she was made for you. She loved you.

“Please tell me I will not lose you for a second time. I cannot do that again.” She admitted the secret quietly, and before you had even found the words to answer her, the admission was stored away safely in your soul. 

“No, you won’t. I… I think I need you, Ale.” You told her, closing your eyes as you rested your forehead against hers. You sensed the relieving sigh that Alexia let out and shared how she felt; at peace.

“I need you too.” Alexia mumbled in reply, her voice cracking with emotion that for once isn’t drowning her, instead, she feels more alive right now than she had since summer. “Te extrañé mucho. Mucho.” 

You smiled. A genuine one, with no layers or falsity to it. You smiled because you could, because Alexia and all she was in that moment allowed you to feel worth your weight in gold, something that hardly ever came naturally to you. But with the blonde woman holding you so tentatively, firm in her love despite her fears, you owed it to her to provide the reaction her character brought out. 

“I missed you a lot too.” You breathed out, years worth of inadequacy and shame leaving you as you did so. “I’m sorry for causing all this. And for-”

“Why are you apologising?” Alexia cut you off, pulling back from the embrace as her hands gently landed on your shoulders and the frown you had strangely missed came out in full force.

“Because I just made all this so difficult and caused you so much pain for no reason, I should have thought it through more and n-”

“No, don’t.” She shook her head and tugged you back in, her arms around your shoulders and a hand on the back of your head with her thumb stroking up and down comfortingly. “Don’t take yourself down that road. Do not place blame on yourself when there is none there. Please don’t. It is not your fault.” 

All you could do at that was nod into her chest. Alexia’s advice hadn’t failed you thus far, so why stop listening to it now.

“I’m so glad I found you again. In a club of all places.” You said, giggling into her shoulder as she chuckled. 

“I didn’t know you would be here.” Alexia stated, keeping her hands on your waist as her eyes were wide and adoring as they moved all over your face, almost as if she was in disbelief that she was really with you.

“María invited me, I don’t normally come to these things, but… I guess it’s a good job I did.” You replied bashfully, Alexia nodding immediately and making you laugh once more. “She said it was a big occasion or something? I don’t know, but it must be pretty big if the whole club is booked out.”

“It is a big thing. For us, anyway. I…” She glanced up at the building she was in earlier and her smile faltered a little. She was caught in two minds; she wanted to spend time with you, now that you were in her arms she didn’t want to let you out of her sight, but she also had made commitments to be here with her team tonight. It was an abnormality for her to agree to a night like this, but the excitement and the pleading from her teammates made her give in, and their joy at her attendance made it worth it. “The team won a big game earlier, so they wanted to celebrate. I don’t go to these things too. They begged me, so I should probably go back to them.”

“Okay.” You said, trying to disguise the dejection burning through you. Her hands gripped your sides a little tighter, like she knew what her words had done anyway.

“Will you come back in? With me?” She asked hopefully.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to intrude on your time with your team, especially if it’s a big celebra-”

You were interrupted once more, but there wasn’t exactly any complaining from your side. Alexia’s palms were cradling your cheeks, fingertips light and warm on your soft skin, and in much the same way as she did after that first date, she kissed you. Firmly and fervently, months worth of longing reaching its peak and crumbling with each movement of your lips. It was just as mind-numbing as you remembered- you’d thought a lot about those few kisses in Menorca and how you hadn’t had enough. There was no way you could ever wait that long for one again.

“You will not ‘intrude’ on us, I promise. If I could, I would take you on a date right now, but they will be angry if I do. When you are around, there’s no one else I want to spend time with.” Her eyes bored into yours as she held your face securely in her hands, ensuring you couldn’t look anywhere but at her and take in the honesty of her words. “I want you there. You.”

“I’ll go with you.” You responded like you were in a trance. You basically were: entranced by the affirmation that she wants you and you only. The blonde grinned and ducked down again to kiss you, more than content to revel in your touch now that she has you again. 

After that, Alexia took your hand tight in hers and led you back into the club. You trailed behind her, happy to follow her lead, blushing each time she looked back at you with her charming smile that overflowed with utter joy, until you found yourselves back in the main area of the club. Understandably, the vast group of people you didn’t recognise, probably Alexia’s teammates, were partying hard together. There were people on each others’ shoulders, drinks being spilt, some rather abysmal and slurred singing, and a number of new faces that lit up when they saw Alexia again. 

“Some of them are a bit loco. You will get used to them.” Alexia said into your ear, and when she moved back to gauge your reaction, she instantly recognised the uncertainty in your expression. Her arm curled around your waist, her lips pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and she gave a reassuring smile. “I will be with you, I’m not going anywhere.”

Like always, she stuck to her promise. Not for a second did she leave your side as she celebrated, introduced you to her teammates, and hardly took her eyes off you. Some part of her was always touching you, whether that be her arm around your shoulders, her hand brushing against hers as a finger linked with yours, a palm resting on your lower back as she guided you through the bustling room. And though it took some time to settle into the crowdedness, you eventually found yourself joining in with her teammates as they danced and took you in like one of their own.

Throughout the night, the blonde midfielder couldn’t hold back the smile on her face. Watching you fit right in with the people she considered family, whilst knowing to some degree how much you struggled with these things, flooded her with so much admiration and appreciation for you. It reached a new level, and though it was something she didn’t understand, each second she spent with you she felt herself falling more and more in love. Even if you did say ridiculous things like…

“You know what my favourite thing is about football? When you guys sit there at the side with your little blankets like the grandparents from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” 

She might have rolled her eyes at the declaration, but somehow she adored you impossibly more after it. Especially when the group of her teammates you were with burst out laughing at it, some firing off into teasing arguments at it as you turned to Alexia and gave her a beaming smile at the reaction. Before any of the others could wrap you up in a conversation again, she simply took your hand like she did earlier and walked you both over to the bar. Mapi, who had been part of that group and had almost passed out from pure elation when she saw the pair of you walk in together at the start of the night, watched you leave and nudged Ingrid vigorously. The poor Norwegian had been subject to all of the defender’s speculation and conspiracies of what had transpired between her two friends, and the dark-haired woman wasn’t sure if it was that or the current overwhelming excitement of her girlfriend that was worse. 

Alexia ordered new drinks for you both at the bar, before turning to where you stood beside her and smiling softly down at you. You entertained her gaze, mirroring her smile as you waited for her to speak. But instead of doing so, she moved to stand behind you and tugged you back against her while her arms enveloped you completely. Her chin found home on your shoulder, her heart bursting at the seams when she heard you let out a content sigh. She turned her face into your neck then, discreetly scattering kisses up and down the skin there. 

“Ale, what are you doing? All your teammates are here.” You told her quietly, leaning back into her and covering her arms with yours.

“Me da igual. Tendrás que perdonarme por ser tan pegajosa, pero no puedo apartar los ojos ni las manos de ti.” Alexia murmured, reaching around to grab her glass and take a sip from it, before focusing her attention back to you by kissing you. Her lips were cold from the ice of her drink, but they quickly warmed up against yours as she indulged in the kiss without a care for her surroundings. It was only when your drink was placed on the wood of the bar that she broke it off, smirking down at you and the blush to your cheeks. 

If this was how she was going to act, you didn’t want the night to end. 

Fortunately for you, it didn’t. Something you had learnt over the years was that the Spanish knew how to have a good night, and this was no different. The music kept coming, the euphoria kept running, and the dancing didn’t stop for a second. As the hours went on, Alexia came more and more out of her shell, and you saw a new side of her that made you weak at the knees. 

Her actions got bolder as her inhibitions left her, and if she was clingy before, that only increased. Even when she substituted her alcohol for water, as did you, her affection continued to pour out. You were more than happy to revel in all she had to give. This was what you had longed for since the summer, and it still felt surreal that you were here right now. 

Seeing Alexia so carefree and happy sparked the same feelings in you, it willed you to be just as open and unabashed in your joy, and it was fastly turning into one of the best times of your life because of it. But there were other feelings too, ones that were becoming quite unavoidable as they built up throughout the evening. And when the celebrations somehow amped up, there was a certain level of acknowledgement between you and Alexia. Your eyes communicated that to each other, coy smiles shared between you both in anticipation.

The pair of you continued to dance together, none the wiser to the partying around you anymore. You were more than content to stay in your own little bubble, allowing the tense thrill to grow whilst waiting for the other to make the first move. Unsurprisingly, it was Alexia who cracked, her next actions conveying the desperation that fizzed between the two of you. 

“I think I said I had to make it up to you after our first date, no?” She hummed from behind you, one arm around your stomach as the other brushed your hair from your neck so that she could attach her lips to your pulse as she awaited your answer.

“Yes. Please.” The second word slipped out unknowingly, only realising what you had said after Alexia smirked into your skin. Her confidence radiated from her, and you took it and ran with it. “Don’t act like you don’t need it too, la reina.”

“Don’t call me that.” She grumbled and you turned in her hold with a raised eyebrow, your arms linking around her neck. 

“What would you like instead?” You challenged, feeling her hands tighten their grasp just slightly.

“You know. Ale. Alexia.” You hummed and nodded, leaning a little closer and kissing her jaw on your way to placing your lips beside her ear.

“And where would you prefer me to call you that? Here, in this club where you can hardly hear me with your friends all around? Or in your apartment, in your bed?” 

It was that final question from you that had her breathing in sharply and leading you out of the club for the final time that night. Earlier, when you left in a rush, you were wracked with anxiety and self-doubt. Now, you laughed with the woman you loved as she flagged down a taxi and clambered in behind you. She listed off her address as you gazed meekly at her from your seat, heart eyes so glaringly obvious despite the dim light of the car. Granted, she could probably feel your stare more than she could see it, though there wasn’t much else that the midfielder wanted to focus her attention on. 

She smirked and shook her head when she noticed, her hand travelling across the middle seat and reaching its destination on your thigh. You placed your own over it, squeezing it once and averting your eyes to the city’s scenery that passed by, unable to maintain your infatuated look due to the overloading feeling of ardour that reinforced itself every time the footballer was in your vicinity. 

Throughout the car ride to Alexia’s apartment, it was majoritively silent, bar the deafening beating of your heart in your ears that grew in its volume the closer you got. The driver’s GPS sounded out as he parked outside the building, and Alexia rushed to pay him before getting out and offering her hand to you. You took it with a shy grin, swinging it between you both as you made your way inside.

Back at the club, the tension was palpable and unmistakably charged. However, it had taken a turn during the short journey. Now it was teeming with nerves, both aware of what faces you when you step foot in that apartment. There’s exhilaration and simmering desire too due to how much you want it, it was something that had been thought about individually late at night. Ultimately, this would add a whole new layer to the growing relationship, and neither of you wanted to wait a second longer to be able to savour the aftermath and the moment. 

And in the end, it was inexplicably better than you could have imagined. Once the initial awkwardness wore off, the desperation took over and gave the night a tale to tell. You hadn’t experienced anything like it– it was tentative and ineffably intimate and something you wouldn’t forget. It was perfect. 

Most importantly, it didn’t leave you in a pit of anxiety afterwards. Being able to freely relish in the moment when it was over in the comforting hold of the figure you loved so wholly was something you appreciated greatly. Words wouldn’t do it justice, what it meant to you. All you could do was return the benevolence handed to you on a silver platter and hope that Alexia understood the gravity behind your actions. 

The sheets covered your sated bodies, you with your head on her chest as her arms held you securely and sincerely, and they rustled when she reached over into her bedside table for something. You leaned up a little in confusion, watching her curiously as she searched around the drawer, only to pull out the bane of your existence.

“What are you doing with that?” You asked humorously, nestling back down into the warm, sturdy body beneath you. 

She had gotten out your book. With a hum, she opened it and flicked to the back page. There she found your number, written clearly just as you had told her. 

“I don’t believe it.” Alexia mumbled, one of her fingers tracing the ink there. “It really was there.”

Quietly, without disrupting the serenity of the room that had settled, you took it from her hands and dropped it onto the table on your side. Then you turned back to her, brushing some strands of hair from her face as you rested upon your elbows and cupped her face. You looked at her with a pointed gaze, leaning down to place a slow, meaningful kiss to her lips, before pulling back.

“Forget about that. We’re here now.” You whispered, thumbs stroking softly over her cheekbones as she accepted your words, willing herself out of that regretful mindset. Because she had you, right where she wanted you.

“We’re here now.” She repeated with a loving smile, one you instantly reciprocated as you nodded at her response.

On a night like this, there wasn’t much else that needed to be said. So you laid back down then, on your side as Alexia copied your position with the covers pulled up to your shoulders, face to face and barely able to make out each other’s features in the dark room. 

That book, the one you nervously handed over to Alexia back in Menorca, was possibly one of the most revealing things you had done. It didn’t quite go the way you expected it to go, but it didn’t matter in the end. You got the result you wanted and it was so much better than you anticipated. There was still a lot to learn, about each other and the lives you led, though nothing felt unaccomplishable now that you had Alexia on your team. 

Alexia didn’t quite know when your book had moved from the top of the table into the drawer, but it probably had something to do with how much it hurt to look at. It still didn’t fill her with the best thoughts whenever she saw it. She had no doubts that you being with her now would change that. She could see herself reading it in the near future, with you on the opposite end of the sofa, your feet in her lap as she got a glimpse into your soul. New memories could be made with it, and even right now, despite the grievances she had with it, it was still something she treasured deeply and she knew that would only become more true as time went on. 

In your current position, you could just make out how deeply she was looking at you. There were a lot of things swirling around those favourite eyes of yours, but it was the insecurities there that you hadn’t noticed previously which caught your attention. Wordlessly, you willed her to voice them, and she did.

“Things might get difficult sometimes.” She began, and you acknowledged it with a gentle nod and a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “There is… a lot that comes with my job that I do not enjoy. I am afraid it will come between us.”

You could only guess what she meant. Finding out exactly what that was, was a task for another day. Right now, she needed your belief and your assurances, you knew that.

“I don’t care about that. As long as you promise that I’ll have you, then I don’t care about anything else. I only need you, that’s all. The rest is just background noise.” You told her, pleased to see those doubts dissipate before you, her whole body language changing as it did.

“You do. You do have me. I promise.” Alexia stated firmly, quietly sighing out of relief and exhaustion.

The day was beginning to take its toll on her. It had been pretty packed, with a full game of fiercely competitive football, partying, a whole load of emotions, and the events afterwards that had gotten her to this point. Sleep didn’t come so easily to you, even after all that had happened. You gladly took the extra time to rake your eyes over Alexia’s face, who seemed so at peace as she began to drift off. There was a brief moment where you envied that fact, but you shoved that thought away as quick as it came, because that was the old you. There was a new version of you now, and it was one that did have the capability to experience that very same tranquillity that Alexia was in the midst of. And it was all down to her, the woman resting in your arms. 

There was just one more thing you needed clarity about, and it unfortunately meant disturbing the blonde’s bliss, but it couldn’t wait.

“Ale, will you go on a date with me?” You asked shyly, waiting for her reaction with a grimace, for what reason you weren’t sure of. She chuckled under her breath and subtly shook her head, which was indeed not what you were looking for, until she spoke before you could panic.

“You really just asked that after we spent the evening together and had sex?” 

Your hand covered her mouth immediately, though the damage was already done and she laughed at that fact. 

“It was a simple question that needed a simple yes or no.” You attempted to come across as serious, but there was a smile already there as Alexia pulled your hand away and nodded. 

Her lips found yours in what you thought could be deemed as the softest kiss in mankind, before she leans back just enough to be able to murmur her answer against your lips.

“You don’t have to ask.”

—

there's a bit of pressure and nerves that comes with writing a part two like this so i hope i took the right path with the plot and that it was worth the wait 🙃

[letorip]

Can you do headcanons for Jenna’s characters with a tall reader?

tall reader

it's been a little bit since i've been back on here and actively posted, but you know what i felt bad that i hadn't, so i did this to kind of assure everyone who didn't see my last thing that i'm still alive and well. sorry for not responding sooner to this request. also, if you see this, do not panic, i promise, i'm still finishing kiss with a fist [iii] and we’re only a few days from casual [iii]. the last thing i want is someone seeing me update and then immediately jumping into my inbox to ask about those, because i'm hard at work at them anyways

also, if you're not tall, just imagine it for a moment, lmao

wednesday addams

she’s not especially expressive, so she’ll never admit to it, but she absolutely loves that you’re so much taller than her. it’s cheesy and she knows you'll tease her about it, if she does mention it

she fumbles the bag at first, when during one of your first conversations, she says "you remind me of lurch." it's not exactly flattering to be told you remind her of her 40 year old butler who looks like a skeleton, and it makes you think she doesn't like you, at first, but to be fair, she meant it as a compliment

you try to brush past it, and wednesday too, and she's confused as to why you didn't seem flattered. enid's mouth drops open when wednesday recounts your interaction, and she tries to coach her through fixing her mistake

unfortunately your next conversation is only more awkward, when she walks it back and says "you DON'T remind me of lurch." she thinks it's a good way to recover from her previous error, but you just look even more confused, and she's suddenly walking off before she fucks up anything any more

she does manage to have an actual conversation with you later, after you take the turn to initiate, and that's how you two actually begin to grow closer and closer

even in her big ass platform boots, you’re still taller than her. it closes a little bit of the distance, but you're still much taller

she grabs your tie or bunches your shirt and pulls you down to her level, in order to kiss you. it hurts your neck sometimes, but you’d never ever tell her not to do it

even when she tugs you down for a kiss, she still has to stand on her tippy toes, especially if she’s only in socks

it does make you the ideal height for cuddling, though

wednesday claimed at first that she would cut your fingers off if you tried to hold her, but she slowly learns to crave it. all you have to do is give her a look and lift up your blanket, and she’ll crawl right in, especially if it’s after an investigation and she’s exhausted

theres just something oddly relaxing about curling up and feeling you wrap yourself around her. you’re definitely big spoon in this scenario. not that she wouldn’t hold you the same— she does, especially when she’s worried about the investigation but doesn’t want to say anything— but she likes how you’re able to completely wrap around her and how she can almost burrow herself into you

wednesday absolutely adores to sit on your lap. she’ll sit on your lap whenever and wherever she can. sideways with her arms around your neck, back to front with your arms around her waist, facing you in a straddle, during the more heated moments. she said she’d never be like her parents, but she also finds your lap to be the most comfortable seat around

she plops herself down onto your lap whenever she feels the person you're talking to is laughing a little too much at your jokes. she'll wander right over, wordlessly, sit down on your lap, wrap an arm around your neck, and stare at the person you're talking to with a usual disinterest, and they very quickly get the memo and leave

not that you realise this pattern, of course

you also use your height to help in the investigation. getting books for her off of high-up, dusty shelves, giving her a boost through windows that she shouldn't be breaking into, you name it. your willingness to assist her in her crazy plan is just part of what she loves about you

"can you reach that for me, cara mia?"

she does miraculously know your measurements, of course, when it comes to buying clothes. being tall makes clothes somewhat hard, but she always manages to buy the perfect sized thing, and you're starting to wonder if she somehow measured you, when you weren't paying attention

tara carpenter

you guys begin as sworn enemies after meeting at blackmore, and it results in a lot of mean insults about each others' height. she calls you the jolly green giant and you call her dwarf. she calls you giraffe, you call her stuart little. neither of you will admit that you find the other obnoxiously attractive

she says you're freakishly tall, but you're only a little taller than chad. she never annoys him about his height, only you, but for what it's worth, you annoy her right back

it culminates one night during a drunken hookup after you've shouted insults into each others faces. tara won't admit her anger is from seeing a random girl grind on you, and you won't admit you're annoyed that ethan and chad are obviously in love with her, and doing their best at flirting

you don't know who closes the distance first, but the next thing you know, you're messily pressing your mouths together and tara is climbing you like a damn tree, i mean, this is literally her

immediately after, you and tara try to pretend it didn't happen, and it lasts all of one week before she's jumping your bones again, only this time neither of you are drunk

you get together shortly after, but best believe the teasing doesn't stop. she'll still call you her little construction crane, and you'll smile with a faux sweetness and call her your little hobbit, until she smacks you on the arm

you're definitely a fiery couple, on both sides, but you do have your sweet moments

you give her piggyback rides because you're tall enough to do so, and she just happily wraps her arms around your neck and lets you carry her places. pretty much any time she gets tired enough (or even when she isn't really tired at all), she'll give you a cute pout and put her arms out, and you'll pick her up

tara loves to cuddle with you, but even then, sometimes you both squabble over the blanket, and she'll start complaining about how you hog the whole thing because of your height. it turns into a playful wrestling match, and while you have the obvious advantage and could flip her right around at any given moment, you let her climb on top of you and pin your arms above your head in a proud victory (which takes a lot of effort, considering how short she is)

of course, like all of your play-fights, it turns into something more

she doesn't like to talk about woodsboro, but she does find a comfort in how tall you are. it makes her feel a bit safer with you around, not that a couple inches would stop ghostface or anything

but she feels a genuine relaxation, when you can both be in bed together, and you're completely holding her in your arms, and it's not a thing she thought she'd feel again

you give her your jacket when she's cold, and she has to bunch the fabric around her elbows, or it'll absolutely swim on her. she always teases you about it, but the moment you jokingly threaten to take it back, she'll roll her eyes with a smile and tug it on with a kiss to your cheek

sometimes when you're cooking in the kitchen, she'll wrap her arms around your waist and let her head rest against the small of your back

you also help her when she's studying in the school library, by similarly grabbing books off the shelf for her

when she wants to rest her head on your shoulder, you still have to crane your neck down to let her. it's not super comfortable, but you still do it, because she looks adorable when she sleeps

she's figured out something seriously cruel. you complained about her feet being cold once, when you were snuggling, and ever since you mentioned it, tara realised she's the perfect height to press a cold foot right onto your back. she does it when she wants to start a play-fight, and it works like a charm every time

you're annoyed by it, but it definitely does make her laugh

lorraine day

your height is immediately what lorraine clocks onto, when she first sees you, because she's coming back from a shoot, getting dropped off by RJ, and she sees you in the distance, hopping a fence like it's no effort at all, when the same fence is a pain for lorraine to climb

you're the new ranch hand that her father hired while she was gone, and when she officially meets you, the both of you don't exactly get off on the right foot

you don't actually say much, which is something her father warned her of before you were introduced, but she at least expected some kind of "hello." instead, you just stare down at her from the shadow of your hat with a neutral nod, and then go off to get back to work. no giving her your name, no asking her any questions, no interest whatsoever

she doesn't know if she's more offended by your lack of manners or more upset you don't seem anywhere near as curious about her as she is about you

your height makes you ideal for most ranching activities though. you easily climb up and down from your horse and you're a speedy, fast rider.

when lorraine is on her shorter breed of horse, you're still as tall as her shoulders, and you help her get ready to go out on her horse with you and her father, even if it is wordlessly

she's only heard you speak a few times, and it's mostly been laughing with her father, which abruptly stops when lorraine gets close enough

after a rare bit of rain, lorraine's boots are slippery, and she slides out of the stirrup when dismounting way quicker than she was ready for. luckily, you're there to catch her, and she collides against you, pretty much right into your arms

unfortunately, you both fall back into a pile of horse shit, and the next thing she knows, she's hearing a nice, airy laughter coming from you. she's damn sure it's the first time she's seen you smile or laugh, and it's got her laughing too

she apologises, but you say "it's nothin," and you both kind of naturally grow closer from there

you help her up onto her horse, when she's without a saddle. you're tall enough to do so, and you hoist her up gently and set her on the animal's back with a small smile, and it kind of makes her heart beat real fast

it turns out the rough and tough cowboy exterior is a false image of you lorraine created in her mind. you're actually just a quiet, hot, tall, dork

you're feeding her horse a carrot or something, about to go out and do your job with lorraine eager to tag along, and she doesn't know what comes over her, but she leans down a little and plants a kiss right on your lips

she's the champion of sitting on stuff to reach your face: a fence, her horse, a hay bale. she likes being above you for once, and you're not complaining whatsoever

she tugs on the belt loop of your jeans when she wants you to lean down and kiss her. she also absolutely steals your baseball cap, and then to be funny, your cowboy boots, and she laughs about how big on her the cowboy boots are and clomps around in them

her family house has low ceilings, so it's kind of a pain to walk through, especially in your boots. for the most part, you live above the barn because of the higher ceilings, and sometimes (most nights) lorraine sneaks out to see you

she absolutely loves to sit on your shoulders. it's not especially comfortable for you, but you let her do it at the town events like fireworks and festivals and stuff. she sits on your shoulders for a "better view," and she'll rest her chin on top of your head

sorry to RJ, he's getting dumped the moment he comes back into town

cairo sweet

she doesn't even really realise you're tall at first, because she just sees you in your chair, on the second day of the new semester

you're new in town, a transfer kid and a cross country prodigy, with record times and future athletic scholarships up the wazoo, owed partially to being much taller than average. but the two most annoying things about you is that you can write, and you've read mr. miller's book

mr. miller seems rather pleased with having you in his class, and immediately it makes cairo hate you. her whole plan pretty much crumbles with you now in the way, and she absolutely loathes you for it

her new plan becomes to seduce you and distract you from school, and it works because you do harbour a giant, absolutely massive crush on her

your mother, who's also your coach, wants you to stay focused on athletics and not let cairo get in the way, but talking to her makes you melt, and when she finds you one day, in the locker room after everyone's left, you immediately cave when she sloppily kisses you and shoves her tongue into your mouth

your height is ideal for picking her up and pushing her back against the lockers, while her legs wrap around your waist

tree climber core again

she says it's just a scheme, but after you earnestly ask her out on a date and you both have a fantastic time, cairo's master plan goes out the window, and she just enjoys you for you

she goes to all of your meets, and she'll stand at the railing of the bleachers, and watch you with a smile (she's too fancy to cheer like a soccer mom out loud, but know she's really rooting for you on the inside)

you're like that one track couple at the olympics, if y'all have seen the clip. you finish your run in first place, qualifying for the state competition, and before anyone can congratulate you, you're running in cairo's direction, at the bleachers.

you're tall enough to the point that you just stand there on the ground, and cairo leans over the railing and kisses you, pulling away to cup your cheeks

your height is definitely a plus, in that when cairo is especially miffed at something mr. miller said or another student, after class, she'll grab your arm and wrap it around her shoulder

you barely fit on your twin-sized mattress, but cairo owns a king in her massive ass house, so it's a plus, whenever you go over to her place to "study"

just like with wednesday, when you're over at her house, you're the person who grabs her books off her shelf for her. she'll whisper a thanks and press a kiss to your cheek. sometimes she'll stand behind you and watch you grab a book off the shelf, just to see the stretch in your muscles and watch you move. she's just thinking "i'm no better than a man" while it happens

she love love loves to lay on top of you, on the sofa, when she's got a book to read. she'll just lay back against your chest, in your embrace, with a book in hand

she'll borrow your jacket, even though she complains it doesn't match her style, but it still swims on her

absolutely loves to be princess-carried to her bed when she falls asleep on the couch reading. she'll fall asleep because it's just too comfortable there, and you'll carry her up the stairs and tuck her in

she also grabs your collar and tugs you down to her for a kiss. either that, or she'll tug on your sleeve, which you now know is cairo saying she wants a kiss or a hug