#with a rage in his eyes that I recognized all to quickly

[palomahasenteredthechat]

Geta drabble

Not sure where I'm going with this. Just some meandering. No warnings. Mildish spoiler for G2 and absolutely no historical accuracy at all.

The fury of the populace raged just beyond the protective wall around Palatine Hill. The light from their torches illuminated the night sky, and the sounds of shattering marble and angry shouts filled the air. Rancid smoke rose above the rubble of a few burning buildings.

Geta stood at the window, staring in horror as the Praetorians beat back at the scattered mob below. Soon they would be overwhelmed, and then what? Caracalla had vanished and most of the servants were either in hiding or had joined the restive crowd. Geta clutched the gold curtain in his fist. He was truly afraid for the first time in his life. 

He glanced about the atrium, but he was alone, temporarily forgotten as the guards rushed to defend the entrances. Oddly, his gold stola helped him blend into the opulent surroundings. A loud crash sounded near the gardens, and Geta heard shouts from below. He quickly walked in the other direction towards his quarters. His slaves had fled, so he lit a candle using one of the wall torches. Entering his bedchamber, he sat heavily down on his bed, unsure of what to do next. 

A small sound came from the corner and Geta whirled around to face it, his dagger at the ready. Lifting the candle, he saw one of the concubines huddled in the corner, her makeup streaked with tears. Geta recognized her as one of his regular visitors. She was young and had been in the city only a few months. 

For a moment they stared at each other, until the woman swallowed thickly and blinked her eyes. “Forgive me, my Imperator, I didn’t know where else to go,” she said.

Geta let out a whoosh of air, lowering the blade. “Don’t you have a family?” he asked, unsure of what to do about this unexpected development. The concubine shook her head. 

“Not near here.” she wiped her eyes and hugged herself, looking up at him. Her gossamer stola, designed to allow access at any opportunity, wafted in the draft. Geta could see that she was shivering.

“Come here,” he commanded, gathering a blanket. The concubine tentatively rose and padded over to him. She was barefoot and free of any adornment. Geta awkwardly placed the blanket around her shoulders, and she hugged it around herself. 

“Where do you…” Geta hadn’t the foggiest idea where the concubines dwelt in the palace. All he knew is they were summoned when asked for.

“We reside in a villa near here, Imperator,” she said, answering his unfinished question. “But it has burned down.” She looked up at him with wide eyes. “I ran through the kitchen. I forgot my shoes.” 

Geta looked down at her bare feet, which were covered in dirt. Suddenly, shouts could be heard in the hall. Two guards rushed in, their swords drawn and braced themselves against the door. Geta was dismayed to see that one of them bore a gash on his arm.

“What has happened?” he demanded.

“They have breached the palace,” answered one grimly. “We will defend you with our lives, Imperator.” They held their swords at the ready. 

Geta choked on his own breath as he drew his dagger and took his place behind the guards. Both he and Caracalla had been trained in the martial arts, though he’d never thought he’d have to defend his own life. But he would be damned if he decided to run in fear. The concubine whimpered and Geta turned back to her. “Hide behind the curtain,” he said harshly. “Make no sound.” The girl nodded and shedding the blanket, quickly obeyed.

The men waited as the sound of shrieks and crashes grew louder. Eventually, a knot of men burst through the archway, and the fight was on. Geta managed to grab a sword and hold his own, but the two Praetorians were eventually overcome, and he was quickly surrounded by five grubby men, all carrying bloody weapons. 

“Stand back!” he screamed, flailing his sword as he turned in a circle. “Stand back!”

The men silently closed in, trapping him completely. They had him like a butterfly on a pin, yet still hesitated. Geta pressed with every ounce of authority he had left. “If you take the final blow, your name will be cast in the mud for eternity!” he screamed. “My guards will hunt you to the ends of the empire!”

The men paused at his words and looked at each other uneasily. It was one thing to enter the palace, another to murder Caesar. These were simple folk, not smooth politicians. The moment was tense as Geta bared his teeth and braced himself. He had just given himself permission to hope when one of them stepped forward and savagely shoved his blade into Geta’s stomach. 

Geta collapsed, blood quickly staining his gold robes. He curled up into a ball and waited for the others to fall on him, but his threat apparently still lingered in their minds, for they hesitated.

“We should flee,” one of them said. “He’ll die slow, and then it won’t be on us.”

“No, finish him,” said the other. “He’ll remember our faces.”

They stared at the young emperor, who had wet himself and was making a gurgling sound in his throat. “He’s done for,” said one. At that moment, a rock crashed through the window and broke the spell. One man reached down and grabbed several rings from Geta’s fingers before running off. The smell of smoke wafted into the room. 

Geta lay clutching his middle, lost in a haze of indescribable pain. He could barely see, and his mouth tasted metallic. It hurt to breathe. He didn’t know how long he lay there, staring at the corpses of his guards, when he felt the arrival of someone behind him. A pair of dirty bare feet appeared, and then the concubine was kneeling in front of him. Her small hands touched his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I will get help.”

Geta wanted to say there was no one who could, but he blacked out before the words could leave his lips.

[raineedayss]

ok so guess who just beat narinder in cotl??

me!!!

guess who ALSO was trying to do the quest to free leshy, but in the FIRST ROOM their very first follower (a black cat named theon who dissented because they ran out of food and didn’t have the prison) appeared in a chest and made them fight him and got really sad and cried about it?

me.

[tojirights]

bro i’m going absolutely INSANE over alastor 😻😻

so, how about when lucifer comes by the hotel, he subtly flirts w alastors girl. alastor is on the verge of going apeshit and almost leaves charlie fatherless.

instead of murdering anyone, he decides to take his frustrations out on his darling, leaving bite marks and hickies on spots just visible enough for lucifer to notice next time he comes by..

a/n: im OBSESSED 😍😍

alastor immediately recognized lucifer as competition on multiple fronts. obviously, the king of hell was a threat in terms of power level, and alastor hated that. but alastor also quickly hated how charming the devil was.

upon meeting you, lucifer takes your hand and bows, placing a kiss on your hand as well. alastor's eye twitches, watching someone else put their dirty little hands and mouth on what is his. "my, what a pleasure. you're helping charlie? that's lovely! means i'll get to be seeing you around more, huh? she didn't mention such a pretty little thing was her hotel manager." lucifer speaks to you, a cool smirk on his face. he's clearly interested in you, and while alastor can't blame the man, he's seething with rage. clearing his throat, alastor takes a step towards you and reaches a hand out to lucifer in an attempt to shift his attention.

"alastor." he speaks, barely containing the anger in his voice. "it truly is an honor to be meeting you, sir." you raise a brow at the tense interaction going on in front of you but pay it no mind. lucifer gives alastor a tight lipped smile and shakes his hand. "ah, you as well. charlie has talked about you." you notice the way alastor glares at lucifer, yet keeps a smile on his face the entire time. lucifer turns back to you, putting a gloved hand on the small of your back. "now how's about a tour, hm?" he leans into your ear to whisper, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

behind you, alastor's horns grow and eyes redden, ready to risk it all in a fight with the devil and take out this whole god damned hotel if it meant lucifer never touched you again. "o-oh um, that's typically done by-" you start, but suddenly, charlie is running down the stairs with a panicked look on her face.

"heeyy dad! let's go this way, towards your room! it's late, you should rest." her smile is clearly fake, and you see her eyes dart from you to alastor and back to you. luckily, alastor reeled in his rage when the princess showed up and was back to his normal self on the surface. you can feel the energy coming from your partner, malicious intent painted all over his aura and you gulp. "al, c'mon... charlie's right."

alastor doesn't speak, but he follows you to your room for the night. the door is barely shut before alastor is lifting your legs and tossing you onto the bed. "care to explain why the fuck that little slimy king of hell was all over you?" he doesn't give you another moment to process before he's tugging your shirt over your head. "it's just harmless, al. you know i don't want anyone but you." you assure him, but alastor's teeth find your neck.

"i may trust you, darling, but i do not trust lucifer." his voice has a low growl to it that ignites your core. "but-" you gasp when alastor's mouth closes on the skin behind your ear, nipping it with sharp teeth. "no, because he and everyone in this place will know who you belong to." you shudder underneath of him, slight tinges of pain shooting down your spine at every nip and pull of your skin. alastor moves down your neck, leaving a trail of angry red and purple spots in his wake.

his tongue circles every bruise in an attempt to soothe your inflamed skin, but the marks just darken by the second. you hands dive into his hair, holding onto the silky strands. you feel alastor's body shudder as you circle the tufts of hair by his ears, making him press his hips to yours. "everyone in hell, my dear, is going to know that you're mine. not a single soul will ever try to touch you again." his breathing hitches, grinding his quickly hardening cock against your leg. you whimper when his teeth latch onto your collarbone, sucking hard and adding another welt to your skin.

"i want him to hear you." he hisses as he tugs your pants down over your ankles. its hasty, the way alastor frees his cock and pushes into your pussy, but you were more than ready for the intrusion. you cry out, suddenly being so, so full and alastor groans. "yes darling, just like that." your legs wrap around his waist, forcing every thrust just a little further until he's pounding at your cervix.

"d-don't stop sir." you gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your head while alastor's mouth latches onto the other side of your neck this time. "who do you being to?" he asks, hot breath fanning your skin. "y-you, alastor!" you whine, flexing your hips up to his in an attempt to build friction. "please, make me cum. only you feel so good." alastor peppers you in soft kisses now, ever grateful that you're willing to entertain the idea of letting lucifer know just who makes you feel like this.

alastor sneaks a hand between your bodies to rub skillful circles around your clit until your legs start shaking. "good, good girl. scream for me." he smirks when your tone shifts and he can tell by how tight you squeeze around his cock. "a-alastor fuck!" your body spasms, waves of pleasure rolling over you as you cum. alastor's orgasm follows shortly after, his teeth finding your skin once more as he spills deep inside of your pussy.

you have a brief moment of embarrassment when you think about just how loud you just were, your hand flying up to your mouth. alastor just laughs, placing a kiss on your forehead. "don't panic, my sweet. i think this little display will prove quite effective in keeping lucifers grubby little hands off of you." alastor pulls out slowly and carries you to a nice warm shower before tucking you in for the night.

---

"jesus christ, did you get into a fuckin' fight with a bear?" angel laughs when you walk into the kitchen the next morning. you were covered in hickeys all the way down your neck, and you were barely walking straight. lucifer refuses to make eye contact with you, especially after alastor walks into the room shortly after. "good morning everyone!" alastor chirps, smirking at lucifer who rolls his eyes and sips his coffee.

"well, there's the bear..." husk mutters, earning a cackle from angel.

[sena-seastar]

Burning Desire

Aemond x Older!sister Reader

Summary: You rush off to confront your brother Aemond after discovering he hurt your sister, only to find him crying. You are angry at him for what he has done, but you cannot stand to see your little brother suffer.

Warnings:  Angst, Smut, Sibling incest

A/N: This was supposed to be an angsty comfort fic, but it very quickly got out of hand. All dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in High Valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes. (Gif is not mine!)

You stormed through the castle halls, ignoring the maids and knights who quickly stepped out of your way. Usually, you would give them some sign of acknowledgment, but tonight, you couldn’t— not when your anger was boiling over. Your hands trembled with repressed rage, and your fingers curled into fists as you tried desperately to refrain from lashing out. There was only one person who was deserving of your wrath, and you were headed to find him now. 

When you arrived at his door, you entered the room, not bothering to knock. The loud sound of the wooden door slamming close behind you echoed in the air. The room was dark; only a few candles were lit, though they were burning dangerously low. You squint your eyes, searching until you find the silver-haired man hunched over in his chair. Your robe made a slight whooshing sound as you stormed over to his side. 

“How dare you!” Your voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade, every word dripping with venom and contempt.

Aemond says nothing. His head is lowered, and his long silver tresses conceal his face.

“You dare to lay a hand on our sister?! Has she not suffered enough?! And now you wish to send her into battle?!” Your chest is heaving wildly as you lose what little composure remains to you.

Once again, you are met with a deafening silence that angers you even more.

“Have you nothing to say?!” you yell, each word cracking like a whip. Your brows furrow and your lips curl into a snarl.

Yet once again, your words go unanswered. You open your lips, prepared to berate him even more until quiet sobs reach your ears. Your blood runs cold, and you freeze. Aemond’s body jerked with every gasp that escaped his throat. 

“I am alone,” he whispers . “As I always have been.”

His words move you to tears. 

“Aemond,” you whisper, stepping closer.

You reach out a hand to touch his shoulder but pull it away just before reaching him. Your mind is suddenly conflicted. Your rage is quickly converting into sadness with every second that passes. The two of you rarely saw eye to eye these past few weeks. His actions above Shipbreaker Bay had left you horrified. The abhorrent murder of your nephew, Jaehaerys, happened not long after. You blamed Aemond for that and did not bother trying to hide it from him.

Then, Aegon returned from Rook’s Rest, burned and broken beyond repair. Your mother came to you shortly after, sharing her thoughts about what had happened. She believed Aemond to be responsible, but you could not bring yourself to believe it at the time. But as the days passed, you found yourself becoming increasingly unsure. Especially after today, when the horrific details of his actions at Sharp Point reached you. Most days, you could hardly even recognize him—this strange man who shares the face of your sweet little brother.

You take a deep breath before reaching out. Your hand trembles as you place it on his shoulder, but he does not flinch from your touch. He leans into it. Aemond raises his head just enough to look you in the eyes. His face is stained with tears, and his eye is red and gleaming with tears, ready to fall. His silver hair is unusually messy and unkempt. The leather eyepatch is gone, exposing the beautiful sapphire embedded into his eyesocket. It is a sight he has entrusted very few to see.

“I am sorry,” he cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know,” you whisper, pulling him close.

He buries his face into your stomach. His large hands gripped tightly at your sides, and you did your best not to wince. You lift a hand, brushing down his unkempt hair. You were angry at him. You had come here to yell at him, maybe even hit him, but you couldn’t. Not when it filled your heart with great sorrow to see your brother in so much pain. Your little brother. The boy you had always tried so hard to shield from the cruelty of this world. The boy who had always run to you for comfort after being humiliated by Aegon time and time again.

Aemond continued to sob. His tears made the thin fabric of your nightdress stick to your skin, and the cold wetness sent a chill down your spine. You gasp as you feel him pull you down, sitting you on his lap. He held you close, burying his face into the curve of your neck. Your hands rested against the warm, bare skin of his back as you held him. He must have been preparing for bed not long before you arrived as he was only dressed in a pair of black lambswool breeches.

“You are not alone,” you reassure him, gently kissing the scar that marred his brow. “I am here, as I always have been.”

There is a slight chill in the air, but the heat radiating from his skin keeps you warm. Aemond sniffles but says nothing. You can feel his tears sliding down your neck. You move a hand up to his head, toying with his hair. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, seemingly inhaling your scent. Aemond shifts in his seat, spreading his legs a little wider, making the position more comfortable for you. A quiet gasp escapes your throat as you feel the taut muscle of his thigh pressing into the most intimate part of your body.

The feeling sends a rush of heat through your veins. Your breath quickens as you try to push the sensation aside. Your face burns as shame begins to overwhelm you. He just wanted to be close to you, searching for comfort in your arms as he had done many times before. But your body is turning it into something perverse.

Aemond bounced his knee ever so slightly, almost like a tremble. You squirmed, trying to press your thighs closer together in hopes of stopping the heat growing in your stomach. One of Aemond’s large hands rests firmly against the small of your back. The other moves to grip the outside of your thigh.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you feel his lips grazing against our collarbones.

“What?” He asks, his voice so nonchalant.

“I think I should go,” you replied, trying to stand up.

But his hands hold onto you tight, refusing to let you go. 

“Please stay,” he begged, burying his face into the curve of your neck once more.

“Alright,” you whisper, trying to calm him.

His hair tickles your nose. You lift your head a bit, resting your chin on the top of his head. You trail the tips of your fingers against the muscles of his back. Aemond nuzzles his face against your neck. He bounces his knee a bit harder. You wonder if he is doing this on purpose.

“Aemond, stop it,” you mumble, trying to ignore the fire sparking in the pit of your stomach.

“Stop what?” He asked, ghosting his lips over your jaw. 

“You know what,” you whine.

He ignores you; his lips press soft kisses against your jaw. Aemond bunches the skirt of your dress into the hand that grips your thigh. He steadily inches it up higher. The cold air touching your now bare legs makes the hair on your body stand up. Suddenly coming to your senses, you gasp, slapping a hand over his as the skirt of your dress reaches just above your knees. He tries to continue, but you use all the strength you can muster to keep his hand still. 

“We must stop,” you command, trying to stop yourself from giving in to him completely.

This was wrong. You were both betrothed to other people—him to some Baratheon girl and you to the Lord of the Arbor. They were political matches, as most marriages are. You held no love for Lord Redwyne, but you would do your duty as was expected of you.

Aemond easily pushed past your hand, slipping his hand between your thighs. You gasped, trying to squeeze them together to keep him at bay. Your stomach flutters as his thumb rubs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your fingernails dig into his forearm. You pull back, and he lifts his head to look you in the eyes. 

He removes his hand from between your thighs, moving it up to your face. You find yourself melting into the warmth of his palm. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips, but his eye never leaves yours.

“You were supposed to be mine,”   he says in the gentlest tone.

“Aemond,” you whine, trying to push him away.

But he refuses to let you go. The hand on your back kept you from standing. His fingertips trail down the side of your neck down to the neckline of your nightdress. His touch on your skin leaves you feeling almost delirious. The fire in your stomach is fully ablaze now. You squirm in his lap as his fingers graze over the tops of your breasts. You cursed yourself for this, as the feeling of his tense muscles sends waves of heat straight to your cunt. The hairs on the back of your neck raise. Your eyes close, and you bite your lip to stop crying out. 

“Look at me.”  

It is a command that you are unable to ignore. Aemond is the prince regent. In this moment, he speaks with the king’s voice. His absolute authority leaves you fearful and painfully aroused. Once again, your eyes meet his. He says nothing, simply watching you like a predator stalking its prey as his hand moves over your nightdress, cupping your breast. You gasp, slapping a hand over his. You know you should push him away, but you don’t. 

A chill runs down your spine. Under his gaze, you feel completely exposed, almost powerless—a feeling you usually dislike greatly. You were a princess of the realm and a dragon rider. You were anything but helpless. Yet you find yourself wanting nothing more than to surrender yourself to him, to escape from your worries and sorrows, to be free from all the tiring expectations that have been placed upon you since your birth.

“Am I so hard to love?” 

His voice trembled, as he struggled to hold back tears. The authority is gone, replaced with something much more vulnerable. The sight broke your heart in two. You had always worried about Aemond, your sweet, sensitive little brother. Since he had come of age, he had changed. He was colder and more distant, not just from you but from everyone, even your mother, whom you know he cared for greatly. It was like he believed he had to be this... pillar of strength, or all would crumble.

You remove your hand from his, moving it up to cup the scarred side of his face. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss on his brow. You have done this so many times over the years, yet it has never felt as intimate as it did now. Aemond closed his eye, leaning into your touch. A sharp pain stabs at your heart as you watch how desperate he is for your comfort.

The hand on your breast slid back down to your thigh. Aemond’s fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. Your thumb traced down the deep scar that marked his cheek. You lean down, peppering kisses from his cheek to his jaw, where the scar stops. He turns his head slightly, so that your lips hover above his, almost touching. You rest your head against his. His violet eye stared into your own.

“What of Floris? She is to be your wife.” You say, hoping he may come to his senses, as yours have fled from you completely.

“You will be my wife... for tonight.” A single tear drops from his eye as the words leave his lips.

It is such a beautiful, harrowing sight. One that leads you to shedding tears of your own. Aemond’s hands grip you by the waist, hoisting you up just enough for you to straddle him. Your knees rest on both sides of his legs, trapping him between your thighs. A wave of heat runs through your veins as your bare cunt presses against his clothed bulge. He leans forward, capturing your gasp with his mouth. One of your hands cups his face while the other pushes his hair away from his face. 

The two of you shared passionate, frantic kisses. You had not been prepared from when Aemond’s tongue slid into your mouth. You whine, caught off guard, but do your best to follow along with him. You had no experience with such things. The only kisses you had ever experienced came from tall, handsome knights in your dreams. But even then, those kisses were nothing like this. They were short and sweet. A quick peck on the cheek or lips, but this was much different. Aemond kissed you with such urgency, such deep burning desire.

Aemond lifts his hips, pressing himself against you. The feeling of his hard cock pressing against your aching cunt makes you cry out, though your noises are muffled against his lips. The feeling is so foreign, yet exciting, that you can’t stop yourself from reaching down to palm him through his trousers. His hardened cock is thick and throbbing beneath your touch. A newfound confidence blooms in your chest.

A sound rumbled in his chest; his large hands gripped your ample hips. Your hands moved to grip his shoulders as you rocked yourself back and forth, your bare cunt grinding against his clothed bulge. He hissed, knitting his brows together. You watch as his face contorts into one of pleasure. Your own burning desire is growing too much. Your desperate, heavy breaths fill the air as you grind yourself against him even faster, desperate to reach your peak. He looked up at you; his mouth hung open slightly as he watched you use him for your own selfish gratification.

It’s exhilarating- him watching you- seeing you in a way no other ever has, touching you in a way no other ever has.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises.

His praise sends another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. The room suddenly feels unbearably hot. You’re so close; you can feel it. The pressure building up in your stomach is eager to be released. You roll your hips even faster, harder. But it is not enough. The throbbing in your cunt is almost painful. You are nearly sobbing at this point.

“I want more,” you whine. “I need more. Please, brother.”

“I am at your mercy, sister,” he smirks. “Take what you want.”

You reach down, huffing as you struggle to untie the laces of his trousers. You can feel his chest vibrate against you as he chuckles.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you grumble.

“My apologizes-” he shudders as your hand wraps around his thick cock. Finally freeing him from the confines of his trousers.

A triumphant smile crosses your face. You give his cock a few strokes, admiring the way it stands so prettily for you, so thick and full. Suddenly, you begin to fear the thought of having to fit it inside of you. Aemond seems to sense your worry. His hand cups the back of your neck, making you look at him.

“Take it slow,” he warns.

You nod, lifting yourself on your knees a bit. Your wetness coats your fingers and his cock as you press the tip into your aching cunt. You whine as the head breaches your walls, and you clamp tightly around him. The stretch is a bit uncomfortable but not painful. You may be a maiden, but you still had desires. Many nights, you have had to satiate your hunger with your fingers.

You lower yourself on him slowly. Thankfully, your wetness makes it easier to take him. You take a deep breath as you take him to the hilt. It takes you a moment to adjust to his size. 

“Are you okay?” Aemond asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“Yes, I just ... need a moment,” you breathlessly laugh as he lifts a hand to trail his fingers against your jaw.

He nods, raising his chin to kiss gently against the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, pressing your lips to his. A soft tongue gently licks at the swell of your bottom lip, and you grant him entry. The gentleness comes to an end. He licks into you with a fervor that steals your breath away. Your thoughts fade, and you melt into his arms. 

Aemond kisses you like he wants to devour you, and you want nothing more. You lift your hips before lowering yourself. Aemond finally breaks the kiss, and his hands move to your waist.

“Ah-h,” he whines against the corner of your lips.

You begin to move slowly, easing yourself into up and down on his cock. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he presses his head to the back of the chair. His chest moves with his deep breaths, his eye is closed, and his mouth is partially open. He shudders, and a desperate, eager moan emits from his throat. It is a sight to behold.

He lifts his hips, pressing deeper into you, making you cry out.

“Aemond!” You whimper, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

His eye fluttered open as he watched you struggle to find the right pace. He gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your fleshy sides. He guided you, raising you up and down on him. The newfound pace made you mewl pathetically, but you were too desperate to reach your peak to care. He called out your name. It sounded almost sinful coming from his lips. 

You drop your head, resting it against his. Your mouth hangs open as you gasp and moan. The faint scent of pine and smoke fills your nose. It’s him, his scent. The smell is almost intoxicating. Your mind is swimming, dizzy from the pleasure of him bucking up into you.

You feel one of his palms cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He lifts his chin, closing the small distance between you pressing his lips to yours. You try your best to follow the frantic rhythm he sets. He swallows every sound you make as he holds the back of your neck, refusing to let you pull away—not that you want to. 

Aemond plants his feet on the ground for leverage as he pumps into you. His thrusts are more erratic now as he approaches his end. The air in your lungs is incinerated, and a shameful, high-pitched moan escapes from your lips. You move your hips, rocking against him, dangerously close to finally reaching your peak. 

He doesn’t stop, bucking into you with a force that would be strong enough to toss you off of him if not for the hand holding onto your waist. Your hot cunt clenched around him, the muscles in your legs burned from remaining in this position for so long. 

It’s not fair- how good he is at this- how good he is making you feel. It’s all too much. Your poor wet cunt is overwhelmed with pleasure. The hand on your neck moves down, and the pad of his thumb rubs circles around that sensitive button between your legs. 

“That's it,” he coaxed, his hot breath fans on your mouth. “Let go, give it to me.”

You don’t stand a chance. Not when his cock makes you feel so full, reaching that one spot that makes you throw your head back. One of your hands tangles in his hair, tugging. Your chests’ are flushed against each other as you both rock against each other. You clench around his cock as you finally reach your release, hard and blinding. The world around you seems to disappear. It’s only you and him who matter.

“Ha-ah ... ah,” he sputtered, becoming more desperate.

You cry out as you fill his hot mouth, which latches into one of your breasts. He suckles at your breast like a starving babe. His tongue lashes back and forth around your hardened nipple. The sensation is strange but has you clenching around him even tighter. 

His teeth graze against your nipple. Every grunt and moan that leaves him vibrates against your breast. You can feel his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. His cock pulses inside of you, it feels too good. Aemond releases your nipple, resting his forehead on your breast. Choked gasps and grunts slip past his lips as he reaches his peak, releasing inside of you, filling you with his seed.

The two of you stay pressed against each other as you come down for your highs. Aemond’s hips relax, his body melting into the chair. Your body sinks into him, boneless and spent. You lay your head on his shoulder, resting your chin on his collarbone. His fingertips trail over the curve of your back. Your eyes feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open.

“I am sorry for what I’ve done,” he apologized.

“I know,” you reply weakly.

You can feel his warm breath against your ear. His scent, mixed with his sweat, fills your nose, bringing you comfort.

“Our sister has too much of our mother in her. I see that now.”

You frown but say nothing, letting him continue. His lips press against your ear. He nudges your face with his shoulder, making you pull away. He grasps your chin between his thumb and index fingers. Your eyes flicker between the sapphire and his violet iris. You lift a hand to trail your fingers along his sharp jaw.

“But you and I,” he says, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “We are two flames kindled from the same fire. We were always meant to burn as one.”

“Aemond,” you sigh.

“I am afraid,” he admits, rendering you speechless. “I cannot fight this war alone, sister.”

“You are not alone,” you argued. “You have Daeron.”

“Tsk,” he turns his head. “He is still young, as is his dragon.”

“Young or not, Tessarion is still a dragon.”

Aemond says nothing. His eye stared at the plain stone wall of his bedchamber. You watch him silently, trying to read him.

“Come with me,” he asked, turning his head back to you. 

“What?” You gasp.

“Mount your dragon and go with me to Harrenhal.”

“Mother would never allow it,” you shake your head.

“Our mother has made it clear that she does not hold our best interest at heart.”

“She means well,” you protested, trying to defend your mother, no matter how true his words seemed.

“If we do not fight, we will die. Rhaenyra may spare you and Helaena, but she will not be so merciful to the rest of us. She will have to take Aegon’s head, mine, and Daerons's as well. So long as our father has a living son, she will never be able to rule in peace.”

“You don’t know that-”

“I do,” he insisted. “Is that not what our mother has told us our entire lives?”

You blink, and memories of your childhood flood your mind. He was right. Over the years, your mother had repeatedly stressed the dangers that would follow should your sister ascend to the throne.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

Your eyes flickered from his trembling lips to his tear-filled eye. It was not an order but a plea. He was afraid and desperate for aid. You were afraid as well—you had been since Ser Criston placed that crown upon Aegon’s head. It has only been a few weeks, and already, your life has been turned completely upside down. 

You had no desire to fight this war. Many times, you have had to stop yourself from climbing on your dragon and leaving. But you could not abandon your family, just as you could not abandon Aemond now.

You nod your head. He smiled, a look of relief crossing his face. One of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together before bringing his lips to yours, giving you one last sweet and adoring kiss. Once he pulls away, you lay your head back down on his shoulder.

“Can I go to sleep now?” You mumble against his skin.

“Yes,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “You can sleep now.”

[adelliet]

Wolverine x f!reader

SILENT HUNT

Summary: You are running from the FBI, spending days hiding and surviving until you meet a man who helped you and saved your life.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, corn with plot, soft Logan, harassment, age gap (reader in 20s Logan in his 30s), reader is much smaller than Logan, mentions of trauma, hunting animals, light fingering, oral (f!receiving), nicknames (sweetie, princess), unprotected sex ( p i v ), aftercare, praise kink, good~sweet ending

A/n: Hey so um I didn't expect it to be so long 0-0 sorry for that…but I hope you're gonna like it (I'm going insane over this man help)

,,She ran this way!” You heard one of the cops shouting. You knew they were up your ass. Despite your speed, sooner or later they will catch up. You couldn't allow that.

You quickly tried to analyze the environment around you and when your eyes spotted a thick bush, you took advantage of it and quickly hid behind it. You couldn't hide here forever, but you wanted to gain some time to think. Terrified, you looked around, desperately trying to find a place where you could hide longer.

"Where did she go?!" You recognized the bitter male voice. It belonged to one of them, actually to the main guy who destroyed you. Who used you and turned you into the monster you are now. He took away your rights, your dignity, your life. He didn't care that he could've killed you. You were just a lab rat to him who had beneficially succeeded his experiment.

Just his tone made your heart rate rise, your claws were pressing against your knuckles, struggling to break through. You concentrate all your nerves for stopping the mutant DNA inside you bubble to the surface. The rage and hatred for the man was incalculable, but you couldn't attack him. At least, not right now. You just had to wait quietly for him and his entire team to leave.

"Fuck! Find her or I'll cut your throat!" he shouted angrily. Then you heard vehicles and thousands of footsteps finally fading away from you. You were holding your breath the whole time, finally relieving yourself and carefully climbed out from the bush. You did have a clear air, for now. Time was precious at the moment and you decided to use it well. That's why the moment you left your previous hiding spot, you ran after your goal.

Any shack, abandoned building or cabin would be ideal. Well, your wish was granted. You hadn't been running for long before you saw a small wooden cabin in the distance. Your eyes lit up, excited smile forming on your face. There was still a hope.

Running to the door, you weren't even going to waste time knocking. You rush inside and close the door by leaning against it. You throw your head back, trying to calm your breathing, before opening your eyes again.

You were quite surprised. The furniture and everything in the cabin looked exceedingly good. As if someone lived here. You barely took two steps forward and were about to continue exploring, but you were stopped by sharp objects lightly touching your back. "Who are you and what do you want" a rough male voice made your breath stuck in your throat, goosebumps rose all over your body.

You started shaking and you knew if you won't speak asap, you are dead. But your ability to talk was quite interrupted by those really sharp objects pressing on your back. Yet you inhale deeply and tried to answer calmly.

"I need to hide from the FBI..." there was a moment of silence. "They want me" "Why?" You could still feel the knives touching your back, keeping you in a position where you couldn't do anything but answer. "They want my DNA..." again there was a silent pause until the man finally set you free, so you could finally turn around and see his face.

Your eyes widened. You didn't expect this. It was pretty tall man, at least 6 feet tall. You admired his beard and hair, which created a strange illusion of a wild animal. His hands were huge, not only his biceps but also his palms. When he sees your face, his eyes soften. He did not expect this either.

"Why they want your DNA?" he asked with confusion in his voice. Before you manage to say anything, you hear vehicles outside the cabin. Your instincts immediately got the better of you and claws came out of your knuckles in self-defense. Logan pulled back in surprise and looked at you with raised eyebrow.

He had so many questions but this wasn't the time to ask. He knew that. He smelled your fear and saw your terrified eyes, you've been through a lot. Besides, you didn't look like someone who wanted to hurt him. "Go, hide under the bed in that room" he pointed to one of the doors and you wasted no time.

You did as he told you so and waited, your pulse raising again. "Wait until I tell you" he whispered before he closed the door. No sooner had he closed it, than they aggressively knocked with the words "FBI open the door or we break in!”

Your mind was filled with million scenarios and they weren't in a positive light. What if they find you? What if you get caught and you never see day light again? What if they try more experiments on you until you suffer to death? What if they kill you as soon as they see you? These questions spawned in your head as you tried to control your breathing.

"Hello gentlemen, how can I help you?"

"Have you seen this girl?" you quietly listened to their conversation expectantly. "No, why is she missing or someth-" 

"That's none of your bussines sir, just answer honestly. Have you seen this girl running through here?" you heard rich laugh as you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "Are you for real? I haven't seen a single soul in here for couple of years..." your breathing and heart raise was slowly going back to normal speed and rhythm. "Okay, let us check the cabin and we can leave" fuck. Just when you though you won…

“I told you I haven't seen her-" "We have the right to come in sir, now stand back or force will come" You could feel beads of sweat rolling down your forehead. You're done. You weren't ready for it but you had no choice. At least you tried. Hope dies last, how they say…

You quietly awaited your fate and listened to the slow stomping around the cabin. There were only a few seconds left before they will enter the room where you were hiding. "Sir I told you I haven't seen that girl!" that wolf-looking guy kept trying to save you and chase them away before they find you. It was pointless. Not only did they not listen to him, but they just accelerated the search.

There it is.

All that running, all that hiding and all that starving was for nothing. Everything led to only one result, which will now be fulfilled.

The hair on your arms stood on end when you heard a loud creaking of the door. You held your breath as you watched the massive black boots move eerily slowly around the room. Then you heard more faster footsteps, before seeing shoes. They were different, so you recognized that this was your salvation.

"I don't know what you're looking for in here. I've told you several times that I've never seen that girl!" you watched the shoes of both men with frightened eyes. There was a silence for a moment, before you heard the transmitter switch on. "All clear" a weight lift off your heart when you heard those words. You waited still, as you were told to do so.

“Alright, you can come out now” you literally jumped out from under the bed and were completely changed. The scared expression turned to excited and your eyes shone like never before. You felt incredible relief, but mostly you were grateful.

"Thank you so much!" he just nodded and checked you up and down before going somewhere else. You followed him, curious what will happen next.

"So now you're going to tell me why they want your DNA?" he raised his eyebrow as he poured rum into the glass. You watched him for a while, observing his large, big, massive hands until you caught yourself. You cleared your throat akwardly.

“I'm…a successful lab experiment” his face expression still didn't change, letting you know he wanted more. "I was born as a normal person, but these guys took me from my parents and used me as their lab rat. They tried to give me DNA from some mutant" he listened carefully, being very interested in your speech. "The chance of me dying was over 90%, but I survived even with mutant genes. They want to know how it's possible. That's why they want me"

You look down, remembering all the traumatic experiences from the lab. "I know what it's like" You look up at him. "I've been…lab rat too" he looked thoughtfully at his hand before sharp claws came out from his knuckles. You gasped quietly, before squeezing your eyes. "You are Wolverine!" you said in disbelief. He looks at you with furrowed brows. "Am I that famous?" you scoffed and shook your head. "They talked about you a lot in the lab. You were...their insiration"

"Well that isn't that something I should be proud of huh?" he chuckled, joking sarcastically but he had a point. You watched his claws. They were much bigger, sharper than yours. "Adamantium" he got your attention again, watching his claws. "Unbreakable metal. I have it instead of my bones" he slid them back in and looked at your face to finally see your reaction.

"Really? That must've hurt..." "Like hell" he agreed and took a sip. He held out the glass to you. It took you a moment to understand what he wanted. "Oh no thank you, I don't drink" you shake your hand and suck your lips into a thin line. "Good girl" he nodded and instead of placing the glass on the counter, he drank it to the bottom and only then put it down.

"But you also have…these don't you?" he asked you and you nodded. "Yeah but my bones are not made from that metal, only these" you also wanted to flex so you took your claws out. There were only two sharp ones on one hand, but they were enough.

"I see..." he poured another shot of rum into his glass and drank it immediately. You were starting to worry about his livers. "I'm Logan by the way" you smiled, introducing yourself too. He repeated your name to himself, smiling at the way those letters tickle his tongue.

"What about your family, where are they now?" your smile dropped immediately and you looked down again. “I don't know” you whispered darkly, hoping, praying that they are still alive. Logan realized that this was probably an inappropriate question and instantly began to act.

"Anyway, are you hungry?" he opened a fridge and looked around there. Of course you were hungry. You were starving. You couldn't remember the last time you had normal meat, vegetables or fruit. Practically any normal food.

You didn't want to sound annoying tho, but before you could say no, Logan was already taking spaghetti out of the fridge. “These are leftovers from yesterday…I can make more if you want” you wanted to refuse the offer, but the longer you watched and smelled the aromatic smell of meat and tomatoes, saliva started pooling in your mouth. Your stomach rumbled and that was a sign that you had to accept Logan's food.

"Here" he handed you a fork which you quickly grab and started eating like an animal. Logan was surprised, he watched you with raised eyebrows but later, he understood. He was glad he could help you. A warm grin began to form on his face so he quickly looked away and pretended to be busy with something, while he kept an eye on you and checking when you are finished. It wasn't even ten minutes and your plate was empty. Completely empty.

After you wiped your lips and calmed your beast inside you a bit, you thanked and gave Logan a grateful puppy eyes. He smiled a bit and nodded. "Do you want more?" you shake your head even though you wouldn't mind extra portion.

There was an awkward silence for a while. Neither of you knew what to talk about, however both of you were thinking the exact same thing. What will happen next? Will Logan let you stay here or will he kick you out? You were so desperately curious, but too scared to ask.

You decided to use reverse psychology. "I should get going" Logan jerked his head and frowned. "Have you lost your mind?" you look up at him, eyes big and sparkling. "You can't leave, definitely not now" and your trick worked. Your heart warmed when Logan let you stay. He was the first person in a long time to be kind to you. You valued him immensely.

The evening came. You were so tired and looking forward to wrapping yourself in the covers and falling asleep. Logan let you sleep in his bed while he slept on the couch. It must've been really uncomfortable, but he wanted to give you some space.

You evoked something in him that no one had been able to do for a long time. Compassion. You both have a pretty similar past and you've been through hard times, why should he be mean to you? Plus, you looked so innocent, so soft and beautiful. Oh you are beautiful.

The moment you turned around and your eyes met, it was as if time stood still. He felt his heart race, yet everything around him faded into silence. Your gaze held him captive, soft yet intense, as though you could see through every layer of him.

You seemed both familiar and mysterious, like a dream he wanted to keep reliving. And your eyes, there was something about them. So bright, yet with a hidden depth, as if they held secrets you weren't ready to share. Just looking into them left him breathless, his thoughts scattering with each heartbeat.

As he lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Of course, it was only natural that you’d occupy his thoughts; after all, you were a new event in his life. But this was different. He wasn’t just thinking about you in any ordinary way. His thoughts lingered on you in a way that maybe he shouldn’t have allowed.

There was a heat in his chest, a longing he couldn’t shake off. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have you near in a way that went beyond the boundaries of mere thoughts. The thought of you, of the way you made him feel, ignited something inside of him…a desire, a craving, that he wasn’t sure how to control.

You weren't much better of.

You could feel it, the connection between you, like an invisible thread tugging at your heart, pulling your thoughts to him. As you lay beneath the blankets, you couldn’t escape the images of him. His face, rugged and intense. His hair, wild and untamed, like the ears of a wolf, a perfect reflection of his untouchable, yet undeniable nature. You could almost smell the mix of rum and cigarettes that clung to him, that scent that was both comforting and dangerously alluring.

But it was his hands, those massive hands, that lingered in your mind the most. They were like a sign of safety, as if Logan could protect you from the world. Even now, surrounded by the softness of the sheets, you couldn’t escape the heat Logan left behind, the longing that burned inside you.

You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was too consumed with thoughts of Logan. Every time you closed your eyes, his face was there, vivid in your mind. His intense gaze, the roughness of his voice, the way he moved. It was as if he was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape him, no matter how hard you tried.

You tossed and turned, the sheets tangled around you, but no matter what, sleep didn’t come. It was like your body and mind were in conflict. You were exhausted, but the thought of him wouldn’t let you rest.

Finally, as the hours passed, your thoughts began to blur, the constant tug of his presence softening. Slowly, your breathing slowed, and the weight of the day caught up with you. The last thing you remember was the faintest image of him lingering in your mind before sleep finally claimed you.

You woke with a start, gasping for air, your body drenched in sweat. Your heart raced as the remnants of the nightmare clung to you like a heavy fog. You were back in the lab, the sterile, suffocating air, the cold metal table beneath you, the sharp sting of needles, the hum of machines monitoring your every heartbeat. The doctors—no, they weren’t doctors—had done this to you.

The pain… it was unbearable. You had screamed in your mind, desperate to escape, to survive. But it hadn’t been enough. The dream always ended the same way: your body convulsing, your breath leaving you, your heart stopping. You died there.

And then, as the darkness closed in, your eyes shot open. The scream tore from your throat before you could stop it, raw and terrified. Your body trembled, the terror from the nightmare still alive inside you.

A voice, low and familiar, cut through the panic. “Hey, hey… are you okay?” Logan’s voice, filled with concern, echoed in the quiet of the room. You blinked rapidly, your eyes focusing on him. You were safe. Your were alive. But your mind was still trapped in that place, that nightmare. The pain, the fear… it was all too real.

“Logan…” you breathed, your voice shaking, your body still trembling as his presence grounded you.His brows furrowed as he moved closer, his hand instinctively reaching for your.

He took both your small, trembling hands into his one, massive palm, covering them completely. Logan's rough thumb gently stroked across the back of your hand, the warmth and weight of his touch grounding you, bringing you back from the dark memories of the nightmare.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, his voice low and comforting. “You’re safe now. You’re okay.” He kept his voice calm, his thumb continuing to trace soothing circles as he waited for your breathing to even out. Slowly, you began to calm, your fingers loosening in his grip.

“I… I had a nightmare,” you whispered, barely able to meet his eyes, feeling the remnants of fear still lingering. Logan gave a slight nod, his gaze steady and understanding. “It’s okay. I get those too.” He didn’t press you, just held your hands in his, keeping his presence steady, like an anchor. He stayed there a few moments longer, not moving, until he was sure you were truly alright.

When he finally started to release her hands and stand, her fingers tightened around his. “Wait… would you… stay with me?” You asked, hope and despair could be heard in your throbbing voice.

He glanced at you for a moment, reading the vulnerability in your eyes, and gave a brief nod. “Sure,” he said softly, settling back down by your side. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, as his presence remained close. Gently, he kept your hands in his, his steady, quiet strength surrounding you, until you drifted off again, finally feeling safe.

The sun's rays shone directly into your eyes through the blinds, waking you up. You moved a bit and left a pleased quiet yawn from your lips. You realized you were lying on top of Logan's bare chest, his massive hand resting on your hip. The realization left you in shock for a small moment. After all, it felt comfortable.

The heat from his body warmed yours, his heartbeat was slow in rhythm and you enjoyed listening to it. It was a lovely melody that you wouldn't get tired of.

You slowly looked over at Logan, who was still sleeping. You couldn’t help but let your gaze linger a bit longer, taking in every detail. The way his profile softened under the light, the relaxed way he held himself, like he belonged nowhere else but right here, right now. Your heart began to race, almost as if you'd just realized something you hadn’t quite let yourself feel before.

There was a flutter deep inside you, a mix of nerves and excitement, tiny, electric sparks that seemed to move from her your to your stomach, filling it with a soft, almost dizzying warmth.

You'd heard people talk about “butterflies,” but until now, you hadn’t understood just how real they were. It was overwhelming but oddly comforting at the same time, like an emotion you'd always wanted to feel but never quite believed you would.

You could barely focus, all your senses drawn toward Logan, wondering if he’d notice how your cheeks were flushed, or if he could sense the way your pulse seemed to echo in your ears. In that moment, everything else faded, and it was just you. Just you, discovering that maybe, just maybe, you were falling for him.

Suddenly, Logan woke up. You quickly closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep. You wanted to avoid any awkward situation where he might realize you'd been watching him sleep. What kind of creep does that? He’d definitely think you were crazy, and you weren't about to risk that.

He took a deep breath and clumsily looked around. He seemed confused, but you understood why. After a long, deep sleep, it made sense. Once he finally got his bearings, remembering where he was or who he was, he realized the position the two of you were in. He quickly jerked his hand away from your hip. Part of him enjoyed it, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. That was the last thing he wanted.

He yawned loudly, and you took the opportunity to pretend you are waking up too. He looked at you and couldn’t help but smile. Even though it was morning, you still looked so stunning and majestic. You glanced at him and pretended that you had only just realized you were lying on him. Quickly, you pulled away and cleared your throat awkwardly. He chuckled under his breath and stretched his arms.

“Good morning,” he said in his rough morning voice, sending strange waves of pleasure down between your legs. Quietly and shyly, you murmured a good morning back and stretched your back.

“Did you sleep better?” he asked, sitting up so he could at least see half of your face. You nodded, looking at him with a grateful smile. He returned the smile, and when he felt his cheeks starting to warm, he decided to get out of bed. “I’ll go make breakfast,” he added before leaving the room.

You couldn’t shake the lingering scent of Logan, as you lay in bed for a few moments longer. The nightmare had already faded from your mind. You stepped out of the room and made your way to the kitchen, where Logan was at the stove, frying eggs and bacon in a skillet. He looked up at her, did a quick double-take, and smiled. Inside, though, you felt anything but fresh. You felt grimy, sweaty, and were sure your breath wasn’t at its best. “Mind if I use your shower?” You asked softly, your voice shy. Logan nodded and pointed down the hall.

Before you left the room, though, you naturally realized, that your clothes weren't clean either. Feeling a bit nervous, you asked Logan again, “Um, and could I maybe borrow some of your clothes?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard, but he couldn’t say no. “Yeah, I’ve got some shirts in the closet,” he replied, focusing intently on the bacon in the pan without looking at you.

You whispered a soft thank you and went to find something of his to wear. You found a red flannel shirt, and it smelled incredible. You couldn’t resist, taking a deep inhale of the scent was like breathing in Logan himself, a scent so intoxicating it felt like a drug.

Finally, you went to shower, freshen up, and take care of a little hygiene. You tossed your dirty clothes aside and slipped into Logan’s shirt. It hung loosely around you, the hem falling nearly to your thighs and the sleeves draping well past your hands. It felt oversized, almost like a protective blanket, wrapping you in his warmth. His scent, smoky, rugged, with a hint of rum, was woven into the fabric, surrounding you completely.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, the warm scent of breakfast led you toward the kitchen. Logan had just finished setting the plates, but when he looked up and saw you in his oversized flannel shirt, he froze.

It was clear it was his, unmistakably his, and seeing you in it stirred something fierce within him. He couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming over you, taking in how small you looked wrapped up in his clothes. But it wasn't just that, It was the way it clung to you in places, falling just so across your curves, that drove him wild. The collar hung slightly open, teasing him with glimpses of bare skin, and he found himself aching to close that distance, to run his hands along your waist and pull you close, inhaling that soft scent of yours now mingled with his own.

He swallowed hard, silently praying you couldn’t read his thoughts, because the things running through his mind right then were nowhere near decent. Trying to keep his composure, he gave you a lopsided smile. Get it together, he thought, but it was hopeless. All he could think about was how right it felt to see you in his shirt and how much he was craving for your lips right now.

When Logan finished his breakfast, he pushed back from the table and wiped his mouth. He looked ready to leave, grabbing his jacket and placing his hands on the table, looking resolute, like he planned something.

“Alright, I’m heading out for a hunt. Need to stock up for the week,” he said, his voice firm and unwavering.

You paused for a moment, then looked up at him. You weren’t sure if that was a good idea. After all, the FBI is still looking for you and who knows if they'll come to search the cabin again. This time Logan won't be there to protect you. But it wasn't just the FBI that worried you. You didn't want to be alone. You didn't want Logan to leave for god knows how long. You wanted to be with him.

“Y-you're going hunting?” you assured, trying to keep your tone as casual as possible. “Yeah,” he replied, already moving toward the door. “Won’t take long. Just need to get an early start.” You didn’t want him to go alone, and you definitely didn’t want to stay behind.

“Can I come with you?” you blurted out quickly to get his attention before he left. Logan slowly turned and looked at you blankly. “I don’t have anything else to do and… I’d like to help. Can you take me with you?”

Logan was surprised. His eyes softened a bit, but he still seemed unsure. He lowered his head slightly, his face unreadable, as he thought it over. You couldn’t tell if he was considering the idea or just trying to decide how to say no.

“This isn’t exactly a leisure trip, you know?” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “And it’s not exactly safe. This isn’t the kind of place for someone without experience.”

But there was something in your eyes that made him hesitate. Maybe it was the fear in your eyes for being alone, or maybe you really wanted to learn hunting… Whatever it was, he didn’t dismiss the idea immediately.

“I know it’s not going to be easy,” you replied, looking at him intently. “But I’d feel better going with you…safer.”

Logan looked at you carefully, his gaze softening a little, though his posture was still tense. “Are you sure you can handle it?” You could tell he wasn’t as convinced as he sounded, but your puppy eyes were the last straw for him.

“Alright, fine,” he said, finally relenting. His voice was still serious, but his lips quirked into something like a smile. “Just keep up and don’t slow me down.” You smiled widely, your heart racing a little faster as you stand up from the table, excited.

Logan suddenly raised both hands, holding them in front of him like a stop sign, his expression playful but firm. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said with a smirk, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. “Where exactly do you think you’re going in that outfit?”

His tone was teasing, but there was a flicker of seriousness and concern in his gaze. You look down at yourself and realize you were wearing just his shirt and panties. This is probably not a best suit for hunting.

You looked back at Logan apologetically and a little embarrassed. He shook his head amused and went to hand you some pants.

"I hope they fit...I wore them when I was 14" You both giggled and you put the pants on right in front of him. He watched you the whole time and when you were finally dressed formally, you went out.

You walked with Logan into the woods, your eyes darting cautiously to every shadow and rustling leaf. The thought of the FBI lurking around still haunted you, keeping you tense and alert with every step. But gradually, Logan’s mere presence started to ease your nerves, grounding you in a sense of safety. He didn’t need to say anything; just being near him seemed to calm your racing mind.

Then, a sudden snap of a branch echoed through the trees. Without thinking, you moved closer to Logan, pressing against him instinctively. Your heartbeat quickened, and your breath caught in your chest, certain that you were being watched. But Logan, calm and unbothered, scanned the trees and then nodded toward the source of the sound.

“It’s just a squirrel,” he murmured with a small, amused smile.

You exhaled, your shoulders relaxing as you glanced up at him, feeling a little silly but reassured.

You and Logan kept moving deeper into the woods, his steady pace reassuring even as you couldn’t quite shake the edge of tension from earlier. After a while, Logan spotted a deer grazing in the distance. He motioned for you to be quiet, and the two of you slowly crept toward it.

You both took cover behind a bush, and you watched as Logan readied himself to take aim. But something in you hesitated, you couldn’t help but feel for the gentle creature standing unaware, and a wave of reluctance washed over you. Turning to him, you whispered, trying to convince him, “It’s just a helpless animal…”

Logan’s jaw tightened, a hint of irritation crossing his face. But after a moment, his expression softened as he looked at you, and he let out a quiet sigh. Though a bit begrudgingly, he lowered his weapon.

“Fine,” he muttered, barely concealing a small smirk. Together, you moved on to search for something smaller, Logan leading the way with a slight shake of his head, as if both amused and exasperated.

After walking a little further, you both spotted a wild boar rummaging around the forest floor. Though the idea still tugged painfully at you, you managed to steel yourself, accepting that Logan would take this one down. Once again, you crouched behind cover, careful to stay hidden from the boar’s sight.

Logan took aim and fired, the shot ringing out sharply in the quiet of the woods. You flinched slightly, a quick jolt of surprise, but it wasn’t as bad as you expected. With just one shot, Logan brought the boar down, his skill evident in that single, precise hit. “Come on” he clicked his head towards the animal and you slowly followed him.

When you reached the fallen animal, a wave of sadness stirred in you, seeing it lying there. Logan noticed your expression, and without a word, he stepped closer to you, his gaze softening.

He placed a warm, steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you. “Hey,” he murmured gently, his voice low and calm. “It’s alright. I know this feels…heavy.” His hand moved in a slow, reassuring circle, and you could feel the tension in your body start to melt just a little.

“Hunting isn’t easy, but sometimes it’s necessary. Out here, it’s survival.”

You looked up at him, catching the quiet sympathy in his eyes. The faint lines at the corners of his eyes softened as he gave you a small smile. “We use what we take,” he added, as if sensing you needed something more to ease your mind. “Nothing goes to waste.”

His thumb brushed your shoulder with an unexpected tenderness, and the weight on your chest began to lift. You nodded, still feeling a little heavy-hearted but reassured by his words. “Thank you,” you whispered, feeling his warmth seeping through you.

Logan gave your shoulder one last squeeze, lingering just a moment before he released you. “Come on,” he said, his tone back to its usual steady resolve. “We’ll take care of him. I’ll show you how.”

He began to prepare the boar, his movements efficient but respectful, and you felt grateful that he understood the balance between survival and compassion.

Logan already carried two boars effortlessly over his shoulders, his strength nothing short of superhuman. Watching him handle such weight so casually stirred a flicker of admiration and something else, a heated thrill you couldn’t quite ignore.

When he looked over with a faint smirk, you felt warmth rise to your cheeks and quickly glanced away, flustered. Logan caught the gesture, and a low chuckle escaped him.

Then, without warning, he pressed a firm hand against your chest, stopping you in your tracks. His gaze turned serious, and he tilted his head toward the trees up ahead. “See that?” he whispered, nodding toward another boar just in the distance.

You nodded, heart thumping a little faster. Together, you crept forward, crouching low as you hid yourselves behind a bush. Logan carefully lowered the animals he was carrying to the ground and pulled out his rifle, eyes focused on the target. For a few seconds, he lined up his shot, but then he turned his gaze toward you, a determined glint in his eye.

“If you’re going to survive out here, you’re going to have to learn how to handle this,” he murmured, holding the rifle out to you. With a nod, he motioned for you to move in closer.

For a moment, you hesitated, but the intensity in Logan’s eyes drew you in. You stepped closer, until you were pressed against him, his sturdy form shielding you from behind. The closeness felt reassuring, comforting even, yet you struggled to focus on anything other than the way his body molded perfectly against yours.

Slowly, you reached out for the rifle, feeling its unexpected weight. Sensing your effort, Logan wrapped his hands around yours, helping you hold it steady. You both gripped it together, his strong hands guiding yours.

The warmth of Logan’s chest pressed against your back sent shivers down your spine, awakening a flood of excitement that you couldn’t control. His strong arms surrounded you, hands wrapped firmly around yours on the rifle, steady and commanding. Each breath he took brushed softly against your neck, and you found yourself unable to think of anything but his presence. Solid, protective, and impossibly close.

His touch was rough but careful, and the way his fingers enveloped yours made your pulse race. You couldn’t ignore the way his grip felt, strong and possessive, sending waves of thrill and desire through you.

He covered you like a protective barrier, making you feel safe enough to face anything.

“All right,” he murmured in a voice that was dark, smooth, almost too tempting. “Now, aim at him.” His breath brushed your ear, making it even harder to concentrate. Your fingers touched his where they rested over yours, sending sparks down your spine. But you tried your best to focus, steadying your gaze on the boar ahead.

“That’s it,” he encouraged softly, his voice a low rumble that made you take a deep breath, willing yourself to keep your aim.

Your hands were shaking a bit, but Logan’s massive hands kept the rifle steady, guiding it in perfect alignment. “Shoot,” he commanded, and for a moment, you hesitated, unsure of yourself. But then, with a gentle push from him, you squeezed the trigger, and the shot rang out. The impact sent a jolt through you, and you stumbled slightly backward into Logan’s chest. He chuckled softly, glancing down at you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and reassuring. You nodded quickly, eyes already moving to the wild boar lying motionless on the ground.

“You did it. Good job,” he praised, and the words sent another wave of satisfaction rushing through you, a pleasant heat spreading between your thighs.

Logan then stood, offering his hand to help you up, and you both walked over to inspect the boar. You felt terrible, a heavy weight pressing on your chest as you stared at the lifeless body of the wild boar, the one you had just killed. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, and a wave of guilt washed over you. But Logan didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

Without hesitation, he hoisted the dead boar over his shoulders, along with the two others, and started walking back toward the cabin with you.

Before getting in the truck, he tossed the animals into the back with ease, as though it was nothing. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving you standing outside, unsure of what to do next.

“Hop in!” Logan called out with a grin, and you quickly obeyed, climbing into the truck. “We’re going to the store. I’ll need something,” he said, and with a turn of the key, the engine roared to life.

As soon as you stepped into the store, everything felt new. You had never been inside a store before, and it amazed you. Shelves upon shelves filled with things you’d never seen, snacks, drinks, and foods that were completely unfamiliar to you. Logan had told you to stay close to him, but the overwhelming curiosity got the best of you. You couldn’t help but wander around, eyeing all the delicious treats you had no idea existed.

Suddenly, three men approached you. “Hey cutie” one of the slimy guys called out making you turn around. You raised your eyebrows innocently and incomprehension as you watched them approach you. They kept whispering something to each other and laughing, in a very creepy way.

"Damn you're a snack!" "Nice curves you've got there!" they said and kept getting closer. You backed up until you hit a shelf, not allowed to move away from them anymore. "What's a hot chick like you doing in a place like this?" the tallest guy with a beard, that smelled like rotten fish, reached out and tried to touch your arm. You flinched, trying to step away, but they only followed.

You took another step back, hoping to escape their grip, but it was no use. Another hand reached out to brush against your waist, sending a shiver of discomfort down your spine. “Yeah, come on sweetheart, don’t be shy. Let us show you a good time.”

Your heart raced, fear bubbling inside, but before you could react, you heard a familiar, low voice. “I think she’s good, boys”

He was standing there now, his arms crossed, his presence like a wall of muscle, dark eyes locked on the men. His voice was calm but deadly serious.

“And who the hell are you? You some kinda hero?”

Logan stepped closer, his gaze never leaving them. “No, I’m not. But I’ll make sure you wish you were never born if you keep this up.”

The men hesitated, clearly weighing their options. Logan’s stance and cold, threatening tone made them think twice. He reached out, grabbing one by the collar and pulling him a few inches off the ground.

“You’d better walk away. Now.” The men quickly realized they were outmatched, and with a few muttered curses, they backed off, turning and walking away in defeat. Logan kept his eyes on them, waiting until they were completely gone before letting the tension in his body ease.

He turned to you, his expression softening just slightly, though still protective. “You good?” You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you, though your heart was still racing. Logan’s presence had been a shield, and you couldn’t help but feel safe again.

You quietly thanked him, and Logan simply nodded. He didn’t hesitate any longer, unwilling to risk more men getting too close to you. Gently, he grabbed your waist and pulled you to his side, holding you there. You didn’t protest.

Logan’s usual cool demeanor had a hint of something else now, something possessive, as his hand rested firmly on your side. He wasn’t just guarding you, he was claiming you in a way. His thoughts were elsewhere, likely simmering with anger over what had just happened. Though he’d tried to handle things calmly with words, the desire to protect you at all costs was stronger than ever.

He might’ve been trying to be civil, but if anyone tried something again, there would be no hesitation. Logan would’ve torn them apart in seconds if you weren’t around. He had a certain control over himself, but it was clear, he didn’t like anyone stepping too close to what was his.

You came to the register, Logan paid and you left. You didn't exchange a word until then. "What would you like for dinner?" he asked, turning the subject away. He didn't want to discuss the uncomfortable situation further and make you feel uneasy. Talking about food seemed like a better topic to him.

“I don't know” Logan left you from his grip, when you were already at the car. You got inside, where Logan placed the grocery bag in the back seat, before starting the car. "We'll figure something out"

It was evening when you were finally back at the cabin, and Logan was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. The scent of fresh ingredients filled the air, mixing with the smoky, earthy aroma of the forest outside. He was focused, moving with the kind of purpose you admired. You sat on the couch, leaning back into the cushions, watching him from where you were. You were wearing a new shirt, his shirt, of course, but nothing else but your underwear.

As your eyes traced the muscles in his arms, the way his body moved as he chopped and stirred, you felt yourself growing more and more captivated by him. The warmth from the kitchen contrasted with the cool air in the room, but it only added to the heat that built inside you, a feeling that had nothing to do with temperature.

You wanted to help, of course, but when you offered, Logan shook his head. “You should rest,” he said softly, glancing over his shoulder at you, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve got this.”

With a small, reluctant sigh, you sank back further into the couch, feeling the warmth of the room settle around you. Logan finished preparing the meal, but instead of rushing to serve, he made you a cup of warm tea. The steam rose up, delicate and soothing. He handed it to you with a soft smile, the heat of the cup spilling into your hands, grounding you in the moment.

You wrapped your fingers around the warm ceramic, grateful for the comfort he offered, both physically and emotionally. The tenderness, the care he took in everything he did for you, it made you feel both vulnerable and cherished.

Logan leaned against the counter, watching you with those intense eyes of his, the same gaze that had been on you since the moment you met. It was as though you were the only thing that mattered in that moment. And you couldn’t deny the way it made your heart race.

Logan finished preparing the meal, a hearty dish of seared steaks, roasted vegetables, and mashed potatoes, the savory smells filling the cabin and making your stomach growl with anticipation. He set the plates down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you were sitting, making sure everything was just right. You couldn’t help but smile, taking in the scene. The warm glow of the lights in the cabin made it feel cozy and intimate, a stark contrast to the chaos of your past.

You both settled onto the couch, Logan taking a seat beside you. The food was delicious, and even though the conversation wasn’t centered around anything important, it felt grounding. Logan had a way of making even the smallest details sound interesting. His deep voice, full of humor, washed over you as he shared stories of his time on the road, a mix of ridiculous adventures and near-disasters.

Logan’s laughter was like music, deep and genuine. He didn’t laugh often, but when he did, it was as if the weight of the world had been lifted from him, even if only for a moment. You couldn’t help but laugh along, his energy infectious, his smile that much brighter when he caught your eye.

As you both continued eating, you realized how easy it was to be with him. There was no need to act or pretend, no awkward silences or forced small talk. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were completely at ease. The sound of Logan’s voice, the warmth of the food, the softness of the couch beneath you, it all felt like home.

You didn’t even notice how much time had passed, how the world outside the cabin had ceased to exist in that moment. For the first time in years, you felt truly happy.

Logan’s eyes caught yours, a small smile on his lips. “What?” he asked, noticing your gaze. You shook your head, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “Nothing, just… this feels nice,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Logan raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Nice, huh? You sure know how to flatter a guy.” You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you, but it wasn’t just from the food. It was from being here, with him. Safe. Comfortable. Content.

“I mean it,” you said, your voice softer now. “For the first time in a long time, I feel like… I don’t have to worry about anything.”

Logan paused, his fork hovering in the air for a second before he set it down on his plate. His gaze softened, just for a moment, before he looked away. “I get that,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Things don’t have to be complicated, not when you’re with the right people.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, his sincerity making you feel something deep within. You wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that for once, you could just be happy. That you didn’t need to keep fighting.

He looked back at you, his expression now more serious. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice low, yet filled with an honesty that hit you in a way you hadn’t expected.

Your chest tightened with emotion, and you nodded, trying to mask how much those words meant. It was strange, how something so simple could affect you so much. But then again, everything with Logan felt different, more real.

The night wore on, and the two of you shared stories, laughed, and ate. The weight of the world didn’t seem as heavy as it had just hours ago. You were no longer thinking about the FBI or what had brought you here. You were only thinking about the present, about Logan.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Logan’s voice was casual, but there was something in it that caught your attention. You nodded, waiting for him to continue. He took a final bite of his food, chewing slowly before setting his plate down with a soft clink.

“Have you ever been with anyone?” The question hung in the air, unexpected and direct. It startled you, leaving you unsure of how to respond. Your mind raced, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to answer. Logan, sensing the hesitation, quickly shifted his tone, as if trying to soften the impact. But you still found yourself replying simply, “No. I never really had the chance.”

He seemed to understand, nodding thoughtfully. “If you had the chance, though, I bet you’d have no trouble at all.”

You laughed nervously and shook your head in disbelief. “No way… I don’t think so.”

Logan’s expression softened as he leaned slightly forward, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a seriousness in his voice when he spoke again, but a warmth too. “Yes way, I mean look at you. You’re beautiful, not just on the outside, but in everything you are. The way you carry yourself, your strength, the way you laugh, it all draws people in. You have this… presence. I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to be close to you.”

The sincerity in his words made your breath catch. It was as though every insecurity you’d hidden deep inside was being slowly unraveled, laid bare in the best possible way. His words, simple but heartfelt, wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, making you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

Logan kept speaking, his words filling the space between you. “I’ve never met anyone like you.” His voice was deep, full of admiration, and you could feel how much he meant it. “You’ve got this amazing energy, this fire. I don’t know how you do it.”

But despite his compliments, something inside you was aching to stop him, to silence all those words. You wanted him in a way you couldn’t explain, something fierce that pulsed through your veins. You couldn’t hold back any longer. You leaned in, your breath catching as you pressed your lips gently against his.

Logan was surprised at first, barely reacting, his lips soft under yours. He wasn’t expecting this, and neither were you, but the spark that ignited between you two was undeniable.

Before you could even think, Logan’s hands found their way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His lips parted, deepening the kiss. This time, there was no hesitation. His kiss was hungry, passionate, like he couldn’t get enough of you. You felt his fingers move, cupping your face gently, as though he was afraid of breaking something precious between you. But you weren’t fragile. You weren’t scared.

You responded, matching his intensity, the heat between you two overwhelming, leaving you both breathless.

You put your plate down on the table as Logan's weight weighed you down, so you were underneath him. He didn't want to rush into anything, but at the same time, he couldn't keep that desire inside him for long.

He was kissing you hungrily and you kissed him back, your fingers found a place between his soft hair, which you pulled and messed up. His knee, without his intention, slowly rubbed against your panties. He created the pressure that you wanted for a long time. Your core was pulsating, greedily, desperately wanting something to drive away that annoying lust.

Your lips leaving a soft moans between the kisses, making Logan's pants tighter. Your sweet sound made it hard for Logan to be patient with you. His hands were slowly moving down, gently exploring your body. Every touch of his filled you with doses of adrenaline. Your hips were carefully rocking against Logan's knee as a natural instinct. He scoffed and stopped kissing you to take a look at you.

"Someone's eager huh?" His voice sounded mocking but at the same time, irritated you much more than his leg against your core. You wanted him. You needed him. Lust like you've never experienced before. It was stronger than hunger or thirst, it was much more intense.

You had no idea what was happening to you but you knew you needed Logan. Much, much closer. He didn't need to read minds to see how frantically you needed this.

He lunged at your lips again, much more wildly. One of his hands traveled quite quickly to your legs. When he reached your thighs, he massaged you for a while there. Oh god he needed it as badly as you did.

He couldn't remember the last time he had good sex. It's been a while since he's been living alone in this cabin with only the animals around. Of course, when he got the hang of it, he masturbated, but over time he got tired of it. But the moment you appeared in his sight, you reawakened in him the flame of passion and especially erection, which he was still trying to hide and suppress whenever you were near him.

But now was the time when you both could finally indulge. To relax, achieve pleasure and share the most intimate moment with the person who saved you.

Logan's hand smoothly moved from your thigh to your inner thigh, way too close to the point you wanted him the most. You tried to move your hips so that he would finally touch you. He chuckled softly, noticing your movements. “Easy there”

His middle finger started gently brushing you through your panties. Your eyes widened, as you felt a tickle warm feeling in your lower stomach. You couldn't describe what exactly you felt but it was breathtaking. You couldn't get enough of it.

Logan was careful, gentle and obedient, but you kept implying that you wanted the exact opposite. You wanted more, more pressure, more fingers, but most of all you wanted him to finally take off your panties. You bit your lower lip, trying to be quiet as the soft groans of desperation started leaving your throat, without even realizing it.

"Come on princess, let me hear you" Logan put more pressure into his finger, making you close your eyes and drop your jaw. You couldn't control your voice anymore and that was exactly what Logan wanted. Hearing your moaning and seeing your eyebrows twitching in pleasure, made his dick even harder.

He wanted to feel you, he wanted to taste you, that's why he grabbed your panties made of soft fabric and pulled them off you in one swipe. You gasped a bit as the cold fresh air touched your bare core, wet and pulsating.

When Logan saw your pussy, his breath caught in his chest. You were beautiful. The transparent glistening liquid on your labia was driving him crazy. It looked like the most delicious meat he would ever taste and he decided to not waste any more time, even though he would love to look at you even longer.

He got on his knees on the couch, lowering himself so that his head was right between your thighs. You lowered your head, heavy breathing and heart beating like never before. This image will be etched in your memory forever. His devilish smile and flirtatious wink was the last time you saw, before you started seeing stars.

He buried his face into your cunt, his nose teasing your clit while his tongue was swirling around your surface. He licked off all your wetness while you had to catch on to something. You grab his already disheveled hair, pulling and tugging him.

Your strokes, which Logan barely felt, made him growl against you, sending pleasent vibration right into your core. "Logan" you gasped as his tongue finally penetrated you. He was stretching you and surprisingly, it didn't hurt at all. You were so horny that his penetration was smooth without any problems.

You bit your lips again, creating a bloody mess there, but you could care less. You kept moving your hips awkwardly as Logan created a volcano of emotions inside you. His tongue touched your walls, twirling around and tasting every drop of your juice. On top of that, his nose didn't stop at deliberately provoking your sensitive clit, sending you closer and closer to orgasm.

Logan kept his eyes on you. He watched as your nostrils flared, your brows furrowed, and your muscles tensed beyond belief trying to hold on. You could feel his cocky smile, as your walls started to tighten around his tongue. He knew you were close. “You taste so good”

Your grunt grew louder with every flick of Logan's tongue, your hips moving against his face, before you felt a pressing sensation in your lower abdomen. Goosebumps covered your entire body and a chill ran down your spine, before it happened. Your jaw fall open, your eyes tight close and you shouted over the entire cottage, that even the birds outside flew away.

You squirm all over Logan's face. The feeling of release washed over you until you fell from the height and struggled to catch your breath. Logan licked you, he was very dusty and didn't want to leave even a drop of your cum. The overstimulation started heating up your core.

Logan moved away from your crotch, sitting on his ankles and watching you for a moment. Even though you were drained, you still looked stunning. You opened your eyes when you felt huge warm hands on your cheeks. "That's my girl" you chuckled, your eyelids felt heavy but you couldn't stop looking at Logan's face. He still had the rest of your squirm on his chin and nose, glistening through the rays of cozy light around the room.

"Are you ready?" your heart skipped a beat at his question, but his messy hair with face like an angel made you nod your head. Logan smiled with a huff, kissing you harshly. His hands weren't as careful as before, he was reaching all over you and didn't hesitate to touch you under your, actually his, shirt at all.

You cooperated with his passionate kissing, both of you sighing. Suddenly you felt something poking you which started to annoy you. You pulled away from Logan's lips and looked down to see his huge erection still trapped in his pants. Your eyes widened and your core started pulsating again. Logan noticed your staring and couldn't help but chuckle.

“What are you lookin' at?” you quickly look back into his eyes, embarrassed. As a result, you started to blush and had to suck your lips into a thin line. God Logan adored you.

"Don't worry sweetie" he leans, brushing his lips against your ear as his hot breath warmed your skin. “You'll get it” with those words, he covered your face in soft kisses. You were enjoying it until you heard belt unfastening and a zipper. You knew it was coming and you couldn't wait. You were so heated up and that Logan's cock could cool you down.

You felt the excitement spread throughout your body, as Logan's pants fell onto the floor. You already felt something hard tickling you in your inner thigh. You were impatient. You let out an eager purr, indicating that you absolutely needed to have Logan inside you. He sense your hints and the uncontrollable movements of your hips, fervently trying to get some friction.

Logan look at you, eyes dark with lust, before he presses his lips against yours and at that exact same time, he slowly thrust into you. You squeak, eyes widened as he stretched your walls extremely wide. You were wrapped around him, so fucking tight. His precum mixed with the remaining juices inside you, creating a useful natural lubricant.

"Fuck" he dropped his forehead against yours, his hot breathing in shallow, uneven gasps as he continued his way to get fully inside you. You were quietly whimpering, eyes closed but you felt amazing. Logan's presence so close to you finally got rid of that aggravating aching between your legs.

“Hold onto me baby,” Logan kept comforting you and whispering sweet things that made your heart beat faster. “Just like that” his voice low and hard, ruspy in a way that tickled your eardrums. You automatically wrapped your legs around Logan's waist when he was inside to the base. You felt so full, but that it still wasn't enough. You begged for more.

Logan, like a true gentleman, let you get used to him and catch a breath a little, before he started the rodeo. He moved his pan with incredibly gentle movements. His tip touching and provoking your cervix and places you didn't even know could be reached.

Your mouth opened automatically as you were sighing, your voice pitch and strong. "You like that?" Logan was looking at you and even though you couldn't see him, you instinctively suspected that he was watching you. You didn't mind. You didn't mind at all. You nodded carelessly and threw your head back as Logan started to pick up the pace.

Exactly what you needed and wanted. It's like he's reading your mind. As if he knew your body perfectly and knew exactly what you want, what you desire, what you need.

He took both of your hands and held them tightly as he placed them above your head. Again, you didn't mind. Your only focus was his cock in your vagina. How wonderful he feels. How his massive cock touches every sensitive spot inside you, slowly but surely bringing you to climax.

“Look at you,” he said with a smile as he fought himself not to empty himself into you yet. You're making it really hard for him though. "Such a...." he dropped his head as his dick started twitching, his thrusts gained strength and intensity. "Such a good girl”

He felt it. You felt it too. You stopped perceiving your surroundings, your ears started ringing and the rumbling in your stomach burned. Logan, on the other hand, felt he wouldn't last much longer.

He quickly unbuttoned your shirt, the buttons flew around but it was a blast for both of you. Your breasts bounced to the rhythm of Logan's thrusting, which started being unbearable. He lost control of his pelvis and movements in order to catch up with his orgasm. He got on his knees, freeing your hands but held your hips firmly, while keep pounding into you without mercy.

"You feel s-so good" he groaned his eyes tightly shut as he felt his orgasm being implausibly close. Your legs started shaking, vibrating. You stopped feeling your toes and that's when you felt it. You arch your back, jaw wide open while you moaned really, really loudly.

Your walls tightened around Logan's length, but he didn't stop. All of your muscles stiffened until in one moment, they suddenly relaxed and you let out a soft sigh of relief. Logan chuckled when you cum all over his dick and decided not to wait for his moment anymore. Few more hard thrust, before he pulled out and sprayed your belly with his seed.

His moan was really intense and turned you on again, plus the realization that he made this sound just because of you, your heart was melting.

After that he collapsed on you but carefully, not to smash your tiny body. His forehead was leaning against yours, both of you breathing heavily while giggling. "That was...awesome" Logan sighed, making you laugh and blush. It was that good, that you couldn't even talk. But Logan made sure that there was no awkward silence.

"You were quite loud, princess,” your cheeks started to blush but you didn't break eye contact with Logan, even with such close proximity. “Always so quiet and mysterious… but in bed? You’re not afraid of that, are you?” you were terribly shy, but in a good way. You didn't know you could make such sounds yourself.

He grinned, seeing you all red and sweaty was a moment of comfort for him. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt butterflies in his stomach and they just wouldn't go away since he saw you.

"Come on, let's get you clean up" Logan grunted as he stood up and didn't ask you, just grabbed you and carried you into the bathroom like a princess. You didn't complain, you swung your legs and rested your head on his chest, feeling indescribably good with him.

A few years had passed, and the life you and Logan had built together only grew deeper and richer with time. You’d both settled into a quiet, natural rhythm, a blend of strength and softness, of trust and a fierce loyalty that had grown from countless shared moments, both big and small. Logan, once guarded and wary, had opened up to you in ways neither of you expected, revealing a side that was as protective and tender as it was wild. And you, too, had found a quiet courage within yourself, rooted in him and in the life you shared. Your bond felt like something timeless and unbreakable, a connection that had only strengthened as the years drifted by, like roots that had grown deep and steady in the rich earth of your love.

Logan stood outside the cabin, dressed only in a pair of worn, dark-gray sweatpants that clung to his muscular frame. His gaze stretched out over the rugged landscape, eyes fixed on the rolling hills and dense trees, but his thoughts were somewhere far beyond the scenery. The dawn air was cool, mist rising in thin wisps over the ground, and Logan breathed it in slowly, grounding himself in the calm solitude of nature. His rugged face was softened in the morning light, deep in thought, a rare vulnerability showing in his expression as he seemed to wrestle with something private, something known only to him.

Then, as if sensing him, you stepped quietly onto the porch, carrying a small, bundled form against your chest. You approached him with a warmth and excitement that seemed to break through his solitude. The tiny child in your arms cooed softly, and Logan, feeling your presence before even hearing a sound, turned around. His face lit up with an expression that was a blend of pride, awe, and something deeper, something fierce and protective.

With a gentle smile, you cradled his newborn closer, offering the child toward him. Logan’s face softened, and he reached out, his large, roughened hand brushing over the child’s head with an almost reverent touch.

“She really do have your nose,” he murmured, a smirk breaking across his face as he looked up at you.

You laughed softly, stepping close to wrap your arm around his waist. Logan pulled you in, his warmth settling around you both. Together, you looked out over the vast expanse of trees and sky stretching endlessly before you, wrapped in the serenity of the moment.

“Can you believe this?” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder.

Logan’s voice was low but sure. “Wouldn’t trade it for anything.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his rough hand squeezing your shoulder gently.

The life you shared with him in that moment, under the quiet sky, was both humbling and thrilling, an unexpected future he never dared to hope for but now couldn’t imagine living without.

[ldrfanatic]

two worlds collided

theodore nott x fem!malfoy!ravenclaw!reader

a.n. this is quickly becoming a theo obsession blog BUT I am open to requests for others

love theo in this piece.

to be added to my theo nott taglist just comment on one of my theo nott posts :)

synopsis - you're draco's sister but you're a ravenclaw. your father shunned you because he thought that voldemort wouldn't want you but when Nott sr is trying to find theodore a bride your father takes this as the perfect opportunity. over time you grow to genuinely care for one another.

warning - cursing, lucius malfoy is a prick, hitting, borderline verbal abuse, arranged marriage

accompanying song - never tear us apart (bishop briggs)

works slytherin boys

"Father is asking for you."

Shock washed over you and you wondered if you submerged yourself into your cloud-like bed if Lucius would just forget about it. After carefully weighing your options, it seemed rather unlikely. You threw your navy covers to the side and shuffled awkwardly to the main dining hall where your mother, father, and older brother Draco were waiting.

Your eyes fell onto a rather scary looking man and another handsome figure who you recognized as Theodore Nott, one of Draco's friends.

"Daughter." The warm velvet tones of Narcissa Malfoy filled the air. After you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, Draco and Lucius had shunned you. Narcissa had been the only person in the entire family still kind to you. Well, she and your estranged aunt Andromeda who you'd been secretly exchanging letters since third year.

"Now that the Dark Lord has gained strength, it is imperative that we maintain close connections within the Sacred 28." Lucius approached you, looking rather unhinged, and placed a large hand on your shoulder. There was a malicious look in his eyes that made the entire interaction all the more unnerving. "Once the Dark Lord begins his plans, he'll need people he can trust to continue the most important of magical bloodlines."

Your father took you by the shoulders and moved you to stand in front of Theodore and the mystery man at his side.

"This is Theodore Nott Sr. and his son, who I presume you know from school."

Nott Sr. glanced to the side at Theodore who snapped out of a sort of trance. He brought your hand up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on it.

"Y/n."

You smiled but didn't say anything, waiting in silence for your father to elaborate. He and Nott Sr. had clearly formed some sort of plan. "You and his son are to be married."

"What?!" Your body whipped around of its own accord and you felt rage explode over your body. "You haven't spoken to me in years and suddenly you expect me to marry this man without even asking me if I wish to be married to him or anyone for that matter?!"

Lucius' hand came down suddenly. A loud 'whack' resounded in the room as the back of his palm made contact with your cheek. "You ungrateful little brat." He straightened his cloak and took what you supposed was meant to be a calming breath. "Draco noticed the way that you stared at the Nott boy in school. You ought to be more appreciative that I didn't choose that awful Pucey boy although he was more than willing."

Though you couldn't see, Theodore's nose turned up in disgust at the mention of Adrian Pucey. He'd taken a liking to you, completely undeterred by the elder Malfoy's numerous threats to stay away from his younger sister. Draco might've been appalled that you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, but that didn't mean that he was gonna let that slimey tosser terrorize you.

Your gaze stayed on the floor for a few moments before you turned back around, muttering a small apology to Theodore and his father. Overall, Theo was quite handsome and you had stared at him more than a few times. He really was quite handsome.

Nott Sr. studied you for a few moments then turned to Theodore expectantly. "Why don't the two of you take a stroll and become acquainted while Lucius and I finish up the particulars." It was phrased like a question, but in truth he wasn't asking. The air was silent as you walked out of the room the brunette boy following diligently.

The cool air nipped at your exposed skin as the heavy oak door slammed shut behind you. It was always cold and dark in the area surrounding Malfoy Manor.

"I'm sorry Theodore."

"Theo."

You stared at Theodore like a fish out of water waiting for words of any intelligence to come to you. Finally, you stuttered out an ignorant 'Huh?'.

"Call me Theo."

Your heart beat loudly in you ears for a few moments. "Oh-kay," Theo began to mosey into the Manor gardens with you hot on his heels. He was quite tall and due to the length of his legs, every one step he took was nearly three of yours. "So Theo. I am sorry you got dragged into this."

"That's alright fiancée." Theo teased you with a smile that could make any girl weak in the knees. For a moment you felt as though you could almost forget that the both of you were being forced into this.

"Still. I know your reputation. I only ask that you keep your conquests separate from our entanglement."

An indescribable akin to hurt flashed in the eyes of the boy before you. As well as something you didn't quite recognize.

"My reputation?" You spluttered at him for a few moments once again making a fool of yourself in front of Theodore Nott.

"Theo I didn't mean to--"

"Whatever." He turned away from you and stalked angrily back towards the Manor, calling over his shoulder. "And it's Theodore."

The rest of the break passed by pretty miserably, as expected. You and Theodore had gone on a few dates, as demanded by both your father and Nott Sr. since the pair of you were courting now, but they were long and excruciating with little to no conversation.

Despite a summer that seemed as though it would never end, September finally arrived.

You were boarding the train with Theodore and Draco as your parents watched on. They'd been keeping an extra close eye on the pair of you. In all honesty, you and Theodore hadn't grown any closer in your courtship than you'd been as distant acquaintances the year prior. If anything, the walk in the garden at the start of your relationship had forced you further apart.

And though you'd pretended you didn't care, seeing Theodore with other girls was never something you'd enjoyed. Now, knowing that he'd be your husband sooner rather than later, the thought of Theo running around with some daft blonde Slytherin made your heart sink to your stomach.

Yet, as the year progressed, you and the rest of Hogwarts were unexpectedly surprised by Theo. Before you knew it, the first snowfall graced Hogwarts in November, and Theodore hadn't had any flings with any girls. He was even turning down girls that had been brave enough to approach him and make the first move.

Without your parents to keep the two of you tightly bound, you and Theodore hadn't spoken since the train in.

Through all of this, you hadn't expected to become close friends with Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl in Theo and Draco's year. But she'd walked up to you during breakfast one morning and the two of you really hit it off.

Hence why currently, you were sat on Pansy's bed while she worked on her charms homework. And she was putting her absolute all into trying to convince you to ask Theo to Hogsmeade.

"C'mon Y/n! It might be fun."

"If by fun you mean he'll humiliate me in front of the entire student body." You mumbled under your breath. You tried to tune her out so as to focus on the book you were currently attempting to read, but she was determined.

"According to Blaise Theo's been talking about you when Draco isn't around to glare at him for it."

"Look Pans, I know you're in love with the bloke but have you considered that Blaise may be confused? Or simply taking the mickey?" Pansy shot you an unimpressed look. "Theo and I haven't spoken since September. In any case, if he's turning down long legged red heads who are all but stripping in front of him, what makes you think he'd want to go out with me?"

"Because he's already agreed to speak with you in the Slytherin Common Room tonight."

"What?!"

Pansy ignored your protests and damn near dragged you down to the common room with an iron grip on your wrist. When you got there, Theo was spread out on one of the expensive leather couches with a cigarette in between his lips. Yet as he noticed you approaching, he immediately dropped it and put it out with a stomp on the stone floors.

"Y/n."

The sonorous tones of Theo's voice bounced off each wall of the common room and seemed to warm you from the inside out. His voice was so inviting that you almost believed you could actually do this.

There is, however, one thing to know about Theodore Nott. No matter how inviting or pleasant Theo's aura is, you'd made a promise to yourself not to look him in the eyes. You knew that if you made the unfortunate mistake to look Theodore Nott in his malachite eyes, you'd lose all ability to think, speak, even breathe properly.

It wasn't until you saw his shoes enter your line of sight that you knew that he'd approached you at all. Worse, when his large hand found purchase under your chin and lifted your gaze to meet his, you knew that you were well and truly fucked.

In that most regrettable moment, you realized how much you'd fallen in love with Theodore. During shared hushed dates and the rare moments of laughter. Theodore Nott had completely enraptured you. And you realized much too late to do anything about it.

So now here you stood. Lost in the beautiful blues and greens of your fiancée's eyes. You were completely, 100% at Theodore Nott's mercy. And likely not for the last time in your life, you felt the urge to give into him. He was a sin that you'd willingly drown in.

"Bellisima," Theo's voice thickened as he spoke. You couldn't understand what he was saying nor could you place the language. But in all honesty, you hadn't known that he even spoke any other languages. His tongue wrapped effortlessly around each syllable and his voice deepened even more than usual, if possible. "I asked you a question."

"Huh?"

"You've been avoiding me." He stepped closer and your heartbeat spiked. "Why?"

Why had you been ignoring Theo again? How could you, or anyone for that matter, ever dream of not giving this devastatingly handsome man everything he desired and more? Oh yeah. Your wretched father.

"You've already been roped into entrapment with me and then forced to hang out with me all summer. I didn't want to cause anymore turmoil to your peace than I already have."

Theo's lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. Once again you'd gone and offended the poor boy.

Immediately, you opened your mouth to apologize, but he cut you off.

"D'you know for a Ravenclaw, you really can be rather thick sometimes?"

You felt your jaw drop in shock. The small grin he currently sported on his face let you know that he'd obviously been teasing. And for the umpteenth time since knowing him, Theo stole your breath with his stupid mesmerizing smile.

Yet, through all of that, he was right. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Theo finally seemed to get the hint that he was going to have to spell this out for you.

"I know you probably don't know this about me, but I never do anything that I don't want to. No matter who's asking."

You continued to stare at him blankly. Had he hit his head during the last quidditch match?

Theo ran a hand stressfully through his hair. He grabbed your wrist and led you back to the couches where you settled comfortably in the seat next to him, careful to maintain a respectful distance. "Merlin, Y/n. Turns out you Malfoy's are all slow."

"No offense." He added on quickly when he saw the look on your face. "That's not the point. Y/n I never would have agreed to this engagement with you if I didn't actually want to. I know that you did not get a say in the matter so if you truly wish to live our lives separately, I will respect your choice." Theo gently pulled your hand until it was safely tucked in between both of his larger ones.

"But whatever your decision, know that I am yours. I have wanted nothing more in the past few months than to be by your side. And every moment I spend without you is inexplicable torture for my soul."

"Theo."

He shook his head and cradled you face between his palms.

"No. My mother had a saying. Lascia che la vita accada. It means 'let life happen'. She believed that the only way to truly know if something is meant for you is to let life make it happen on its own. So take a few days. I'll meet you Saturday morning in the Great Hall. But know that if you agree to be mine, Tesoro, you'll be mine for eternity."

To say that staying away from Theo in the days following was easy would be a complete and total lie. When you told Pansy about the conversation the pair of you had (or lack thereof really) she'd all but exploded.

Finally, Saturday morning rolled around. You'd genuinely thought about all your options and you'd come to a decision. The only issue with Theo's plan is that Saturday was the infamous Gryffindor v Slytherin Quidditch match. The Great Hall was bustling in seas of only red or green. You were sporting a dark green jumper, a show of obvious support for the Slytherin team.

Those of your house that favored Gryffindor looked on at you with disdain as you stood from your bench and began making your way to the Slytherin table in search of Theo. He was one of Slytherin's chasers so trying to find him during such a hectic morning proved difficult.

As you walked up and down the table, a familiar figure appeared in front of you.

"Ahh Malfoy. I've been looking for you. I was wonderin' if you'd wear my jersey."

Before you had time to respond or even acknowledge the situation at all, Adrian Pucey had shoved his green and silver practice jersey into your arms. It was an incredibly common practice for girlfriends and boyfriends of Quidditch players to wear their partner's jerseys to their games for good luck.

The hall fell silent as the sound of glass breaking reverberated through the air. You looked to the source of the noise. Theo had stood so abruptly from his seat next to Blaise and Lorenzo that his entire breakfast went flying and ended up on the floor.

He was staring at you with clear ache in his eyes. Suddenly, he swung himself over the bench and stormed out of the room.

You threw Adrian's awful smelling jersey back at his face and ran frantically after Theo.

"Theo!" He ignored you and continued walking briskly even as you approached quickly on his heels. "Theodore please. Just let me explain."

"You don't owe me an explanation, dolcezza ragazza. You've made your choice."

"You've got it all wrong. That's not my decision. I don't want that." You cried out as tears brimmed your eyes. The thought of losing Theo because of Adrian Pucey was mournful.

"Hey, hey. Calma tesoro. Breathe." Theo's hands one again found their way to your face. He gently thumbed the tears from your face. "Don't get yourself all worked up. I'll always listen to you."

"Adrian he just sort of threw his disgusting jumper at me. I don't want him. I only want you. I'm yours, Theodore Nott, completely and without hesitation."

The grin on Theo's face was nothing short of heart-stopping.

"Does that mean you'll wear my jersey at the game today?"

wc 2.6k oops

4.17.24

-- taglist --

@thatdammchickennugget @moonlightreader649

[aceyalonso]

god forbid - OSCAR PIASTRI

pairing: altar server!oscar piastri x pastors daughter!reader

summary : the indulgence in sin wasn't new to y/n, it never has been- but to oscar? he was as pure and innocent as a doe, the thought of sinning never even crossing his mind. but then again, everyone has to sin at one point, right?

warnings/notes : swearing, homoerotic tendencies between alexandra and rebecca, mentions of drinking, smut, sacrilegious themes, unspecified branch of Christianity, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!!), corruption, masturbation, improper use of hairbrush handle (iykwim), praise kink, use of "good boy", oral (m!receiving), edging, overstimulation, manipulation (if you squint)

word count : 18.1k

a/n : a very long and self indulgent fic HAHAHAH (please let me know if i missed any warnings, i lost count while writing)

main masterlist | 1k masterlist | taglist form

Y/n took a deep breath, steadying herself before stepping up to the altar. The church was filled with the familiar faces of her congregation, including her best friend Alexandra who had just finished delivering the first reading. Y/n smoothed her skirt and adjusted the microphone, her eyes scanning the pews until they landed on her father, the pastor, watching her intently from his seat.

She cleared her throat and began, her voice ringing out clear and strong. "Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him."

As Y/n continued to read, her mind began to wander despite her best efforts to focus. Thoughts of her secret rebellious side crept in unbidden - the parties she snuck out to on the weekends, the alcohol she experimented with, the boys she flirted with behind her father's back. A thrill ran through her at the riskiness of it all, even as a twinge of guilt pricked at her conscience.

Y/n's eyes met Oscar's as she continued reading, a flicker of something unreadable passing between them. She quickly averted her gaze, focusing intently on the words in front of her. Oscar, with his innocent eyes and pure heart, was everything Y/n wasn't. He never drank, never smoked, never even looked at a girl the wrong way. Her father adored him, always going on about what a fine young man he was, how he might even make a good pastor someday.

God, Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She knew she should be happy for Oscar, proud of his devotion and goodness. But instead, it made her feel even more like a fraud. Like she was just playing a part, pretending to be the perfect pastor's daughter while hiding her true, sinful self.

She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her temple as she struggled to concentrate on the reading. Her eyes darted to Alexandra, who sat primly in the pew, the picture of innocence. But Y/n knew better. She knew about the wild parties they attended together, the boys they flirted with and sometimes took home. The way they would pass a guy back and forth, tossing him aside when they grew bored.

It was thrilling and exhilarating, a rush of power and control that Y/n craved. But here, in the church, surrounded by the pious faces of her congregation, it felt dirty. Shameful. She imagined what her father would think if he knew the truth about his precious daughter, and a wave of nausea washed over her.

Y/n swallowed hard and forced herself to focus on the words in front of her. She couldn't let anyone see the turmoil raging inside her. She had to keep up appearances, no matter the cost. Even if it meant burying her true self deeper and deeper until she hardly recognized who she was anymore.

She hurried through the final verse, her voice wavering slightly as she rushed to finish. "But each one is tempted when he is drawn away and enticed by his own evil desires. Then when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and when sin is accomplished, it brings forth death."

The words tasted bitter on her tongue, a stark reminder of her own hypocrisy. Y/n stepped back from the lectern, her legs shaky beneath her. She glanced at her father, hoping he hadn't noticed her momentary lapse. But his eyes were closed in prayer, his face serene and untroubled.

As Y/n made her way back to her seat, she caught Oscar's eye once more. He gave her a small, encouraging smile, his faith in her unwavering. Y/n felt a pang of guilt, knowing she didn't deserve his trust. She slid into the pew beside Alexandra, who leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Nice job, girl. You almost had me worried there for a second." Alexandra giggled, her breath hot against Y/n's cheek.

Y/n leaned in close to Alexandra, her lips brushing against her friend's ear as she whispered, "Why the fuck is this the Bible verse chosen for today? It's making me feel so guilty."

Alexandra smirked, her blue eyes glinting with mischief. "You didn't feel guilty making out with that guy last night," she purred, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Or when you downed like, five shots in a row. Live a little, Y/n. God knows you deserve to let loose sometimes."

Y/n bit her lip, torn between her desire for freedom and the crushing weight of expectation. She knew Alexandra was right - she had spent the night before tangled in a stranger's arms, lost in a haze of alcohol and lust. But here, in the sanctity of the church, it all felt so wrong.

They turned their attention to the altar, watching as the altar servers busied themselves with the communion preparations. Oscar was among them, his movements precise and reverent.

Alexandra leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "So, did you even remember that guy's name? The one you were making out with last night?"

Y/n furrowed her brow, trying to recall the hazy details of the previous evening. "It started with an F, I think. Frank? Franco?" She shrugged, the names blurring together in her mind.

Alexandra giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "Typical Y/n. Always leaving a trail of broken hearts and empty beds wherever you go."

Y/n poked Alexandra in the side, eliciting a small "ow" from her friend. "Hey, don't forget, you aren't that innocent either, you know," she whispered, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I saw you making out with Rebecca last night."

Rebecca was a member of their church choir, known for her sweet voice and demure demeanor. The thought of her locked in a passionate embrace with Alexandra sent a thrill down Y/n's spine.

Alexandra shrugged, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Rebecca just wanted to try on my new lip gloss. You know how curious she is about makeup."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Sure, and I'm sure that's all it was. Just two innocent girls experimenting with cosmetics."

The two girls stood to join the congregation in singing the hymn. As the familiar melody filled the air, Y/n noticed Alexandra's gaze locking with Rebecca's across the church. The two exchanged heated looks, a silent conversation passing between them that spoke volumes.

Y/n leaned in close to Alexandra, her breath tickling her friend's ear. "Save the eye-fucking for outside of church, will you?" she whispered, a playful edge to her tone.

Alexandra shot Y/n a quick, apologetic smile before turning her attention back to the hymnal. But her eyes kept straying to Rebecca, a flush creeping up her neck.

As the hymn continued, Y/n found her own gaze drifting towards Oscar. She couldn't help it. There was something about him, something pure and untainted that drew her in like a moth to a flame.

Maybe it was the way her father spoke so highly of him, always going on about what a fine young man he was. Or maybe it was the way Oscar's innocence seemed to shine through in every action, every gesture. An innocence that Y/n suddenly found herself wanting to corrupt.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts. What was she thinking? Oscar was off-limits. He was practically family, for God's sake. And yet, the more she tried to push the idea away, the more it took root in her mind.

Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as she watched Oscar from beneath her lashes. What would it be like, she wondered, to be the one to introduce him to the pleasures of the flesh? To watch that innocent face contort in ecstasy as she guided him through his first forbidden experiences?

She continued to sing along halfheartedly, her mind wandering as she imagined how Oscar would sound. Would he moan her name softly, breathlessly? Or would he cry out in ecstasy, his voice echoing off the church walls? She pictured him flushed and panting, his body glistening with sweat as he reached his peak.

The vivid fantasy caused a shiver to run down Y/n's spine, and she had to bite back a moan of her own. She was so lost in her lustful thoughts that she barely registered her father's voice booming through the church, calling the congregation to sit down.

Y/n settled into her seat, her eyes immediately seeking out Oscar. He was standing near the altar, his posture straight and attentive as he listened to her father begin the sermon. She shifted uncomfortably, her thighs rubbing together as she tried to ignore the growing ache between her legs.

"Calm down," Alexandra hissed, giving Y/n a pointed look. "Your dad's starting his sermon."

Y/n nodded, trying to focus on her father's words even as her mind raced with thoughts of Oscar.

"Temptation is a powerful force," her father intoned, his voice ringing out through the church. "It can lead us astray, cause us to stumble and fall. But we must resist, my children. We must hold fast to our faith, even in the face of the greatest temptations."

Y/n squirmed in her seat, her father's words hitting a little too close to home. She knew she should be paying attention, should be taking his message to heart. But all she could think about was the way Oscar's lips might feel against her skin, the way his hands might explore her body.

"Temptation comes in many forms," her father continued, his voice booming through the church. "It can be the lure of wealth, the promise of power, or the allure of the flesh. But we must be vigilant, my children. We must guard our hearts and our minds against the wiles of the devil."

Y/n reached into her small purse, fishing out a piece of candy she always kept on hand for long sermons. She and Alexandra often found their blood sugar dropping during the lengthy services, making it hard to concentrate on her father's words.

She unwrapped the candy slowly, trying to be discreet as she popped it into her mouth. The sweet flavor burst on her tongue, giving her a much-needed boost of energy. But even as she focused on the sermon, her mind kept wandering back to Oscar.

"Temptation can come from the most unexpected places," her father said, his voice rising with passion. "Even those we trust, those we love, can lead us astray if we are not careful. We must be on guard at all times, my children. We must be ready to resist temptation whenever it rears its ugly head."

Y/n shifted in her seat, her thighs clenching together as she tried to ignore the throbbing between her legs. She knew her father was right. Temptation could come from anywhere, even from someone as innocent and pure as Oscar. But that didn't make it any easier to resist.

She felt a jolt of electricity run through her as her father mentioned her name and the Bible verse she had read earlier. She glanced over at Oscar, catching his eye. He smiled at her, his expression warm and friendly, but Y/n couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if that smile was directed at her in a more intimate setting.

"My daughter Y/n read from the book of James earlier," her father continued, his voice ringing out through the church. "She spoke of the dangers of temptation, of how it can lead us astray if we are not careful. Let us all take heed of her words, my children. Let us all strive to resist the temptations that may come our way."

Y/n squirmed in her seat, her mind racing with forbidden thoughts. If anything, hearing her father speak about temptation only made it easier for her to imagine giving in to her desires with Oscar. She pictured him bending her over the altar, his hands roaming her body as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

She found herself zoning out, her foot bouncing restlessly on the floor as she struggled to focus on her father's sermon. She couldn't shake the feeling that Oscar was staring at her, his gaze intense and unwavering. It was as if he could read her mind, as if he knew exactly what kind of filthy thoughts were running through her head.

But instead of disgust or judgment, Y/n saw a flicker of something else in Oscar's eyes. Something that looked suspiciously like desire. Could it be that he wanted her too? That he was just as tempted by her as she was by him?

The thought sent a thrill of excitement through Y/n's body, even as a small voice in the back of her mind warned her to be careful. She knew she was playing with fire, entertaining such forbidden fantasies. But the temptation was just too strong to resist.

Y/n tore her gaze away from Oscar, closing her eyes as she tried to regain her composure. She could feel Alexandra's concerned gaze boring into her, and she knew she needed to say something to appease her friend.

"I have a stomachache," Y/n mumbled, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. She knew damn well that it was everything but a stomachache that was causing her distress. It was the throbbing ache between her legs, the desperate need for release that consumed her thoughts.

Alexandra frowned, leaning in closer to whisper in Y/n's ear. "Are you sure you're okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

Y/n forced a weak smile, nodding her head. "I'll be fine. Just need some fresh air."

She stood abruptly, ignoring the surprised looks from those around her as she made her way towards the exit. She needed to get out of there and clear her head before she did something she would regret. But even as she pushed open the heavy wooden doors, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that Oscar's eyes were still on her.

Y/n slipped out into the garden near the chapel, desperate for some fresh air and a moment to collect herself. She could still hear her father's voice droning on from inside, his words washing over her in a distant, muffled blur.

She sank down onto a nearby bench, her head spinning as she tried to catch her breath. The scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass filled her nostrils, but even that couldn't distract her from the persistent ache between her legs.

Y/n tuned back in to the sermon every now and then, her father's voice rising and falling as he spoke of the dangers of temptation. But his words seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears.

She felt lightheaded, dizzy with a heady mix of shame and desire. She knew she shouldn't be having these thoughts, especially not about Oscar. But she couldn't help it. The temptation was just too strong to resist.

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she sat alone in the garden. The rest of the Mass passed by in a blur, her father's voice fading into the background as she struggled to calm her racing thoughts.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the gentle breeze that rustled through the leaves overhead. The scent of honeysuckle and jasmine filled her nostrils, a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.

But even as she tried to find peace in the tranquil surroundings, Y/n couldn't shake the image of Oscar from her mind. His innocent face, his kind eyes, the way his lips curved into that perfect smile. It was enough to drive her mad with desire.

Y/n shifted on the bench, her thighs clenching together as she fought the urge to touch herself right then and there. She knew it was wrong, knew that she was crossing a line that could never be uncrossed.

As the Mass ended, Y/n heard footsteps approaching behind her. She turned to see her father, still dressed in his pastoral attire, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Y/n, are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with worry. "I saw you slip out during the sermon. Is everything okay?"

Y/n forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil raging inside her. "I'm fine, Dad. It was just really hot in there, and I wasn't feeling too well. Stomachache."

Her father nodded, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Well, if you're not feeling better, why don't you head home and rest? I can finish up here."

Y/n shook her head, determined to stay and make amends for her absence during the sermon. "No, I'm okay. I just need to pray the rosary, to make up for the time I missed."

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Alright, but if you start feeling worse, don't hesitate to come home and rest. Alexandra has your purse, so you can swing by their place to pick it up on your way."

Y/n thanked her father, watching as he turned to greet the other parishioners. She knew she should head inside and pray, should try to cleanse her mind of the impure thoughts that plagued her. But as she stood up from the bench, she couldn't help but glance towards the church, wondering if Oscar was still inside.

With a sigh, Y/n made her way toward the church entrance, steeling herself for the battle ahead. She knew it wouldn't be easy to resist temptation, especially with Oscar so close by. But she had to try, had to prove to herself and to God that she was stronger than her baser instincts.

Y/n made her way to the front pew, the chapel eerily quiet save for the occasional chirp of a bird that had snuck in through the open windows. She knelt down on the cushioned kneeler, the cool stone of the church floor pressing against her knees.

She began to pray the rosary, her fingers moving mechanically over the beads as she recited the familiar prayers. But even as she tried to focus on the words, her mind kept wandering, her thoughts straying to Oscar.

She pictured him kneeling in front of her, his head buried between her thighs as he devoured her with his mouth. She could almost feel his tongue lapping at her most sensitive parts, could almost hear the sounds of his pleasure as he discovered the taste of her.

Y/n bit her lip, stifling a moan as the fantasy played out in her mind. She knew it was wrong, knew that she was defiling the sacred space with her impure thoughts. But she couldn't stop, couldn't tear her mind away from the image of Oscar worshipping her body like it was the Holy Grail.

Y/n prayed harder, her whispers turning into full-voiced recitations as she tried to drown out the sinful images flooding her mind. But it was no use. The more she tried to focus on her prayers, the more vivid the fantasies became.

In her mind's eye, she saw herself and Oscar tangled together in the bell tower, their bodies moving in a frenzied rhythm as the church bells tolled overhead. She imagined him bending her over the altar, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her again and again.

And then there was the confession booth, the small, dark space where sins were laid bare. In Y/n's twisted imagination, she was on her knees, her mouth wrapped around Oscar's hard length as he groaned in pleasure.

The images were so real, so vivid, that Y/n could almost feel the phantom sensations on her skin. She squirmed on the kneeler, her thighs clenching together as she fought the urge to touch herself right then and there.

Tears began to well up in Y/n's eyes as the guilt of her lustful thoughts threatened to overwhelm her. She had never felt so ashamed, so dirty, so utterly consumed by a sin that she knew was wrong on every level.

But even as the tears spilled down her cheeks, Y/n couldn't deny the truth of her desires. She wanted Oscar, craved him with every fiber of her being. The thought of his hands on her body, his lips against her skin, was enough to drive her mad with need.

Y/n bowed her head, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she tried to pray for forgiveness. But the words caught in her throat, choked off by the intensity of her longing.

She knew she was damned, knew that she was straying further and further from the path of righteousness with every passing moment. But she couldn't seem to stop, couldn't seem to find the strength to resist the temptation that called to her so loudly.

As Y/n finished her prayers, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, trying to compose herself. But just as she was about to stand up and leave, she heard a noise coming from behind the altar.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she peered around the edge of the altar cloth to see what was going on. There, in the dim light of the sacristy, she saw Oscar emerging from the changing room.

He was in the process of taking off his robe, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of his toned abs. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched him, her eyes tracing the path of his happy trail as it disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.

Oscar seemed oblivious to her presence, humming softly to himself as he hung up his robe and adjusted his shirt. Y/n felt like she should look away, should give him some privacy. But she couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from his body, mesmerized by the sight of him.

He emerged from the sacristy, his eyes lighting up when he spotted Y/n kneeling in the front pew. "Hello Y/n!" he greeted her warmly, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Are you okay? I saw you walk out during the sermon earlier. Everything alright?"

She quickly wiped away any remaining tears, trying to compose herself. "Y-yes, I'm fine," she stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught off guard. "I just needed some fresh air, that's all."

Oscar nodded understandingly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he turned to gather his things. Y/n's eyes couldn't help but trace the contours of his body as he moved, the way his shirt hugged his broad shoulders, the way his pants clung to his muscular thighs.

She felt a familiar heat building between her legs, a desperate ache that demanded to be satisfied. It took every ounce of willpower for Y/n to tear her eyes away from Oscar's form, to focus instead on the crucifix hanging above the altar.

Oscar gathered his things, glancing over at Y/n with a curious expression. "What are you still doing here, by the way?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "I've been cleaning in the back for about thirty minutes now. Shouldn't you be at home resting by this point?"

Y/n felt a pang of guilt at his words, realizing just how long she had been sitting there, lost in her own twisted fantasies. "I...I was just praying," she mumbled, her eyes downcast. "Trying to make up for leaving the sermon early."

He nodded, his smile softening into a look of understanding. "I get it. Sometimes we all need a little extra time with God." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "But don't forget to take care of yourself too, Y/n. God wants us to be healthy and happy, not run ourselves into the ground."

Y/n smiled at Oscar, grateful for his concern. "Thank you, Oscar. That means a lot." She stood up from the pew, smoothing out her skirt as she prepared to leave.

"I should probably head over to Alexandra's to pick up my purse," she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. "I'll see you around?"

Oscar nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he returned her smile. "Sounds good, Y/n. Take care of yourself, and I'll see you soon."

Y/n turned to leave, her heart pounding in her chest as she walked down the aisle of the empty church. She could still feel Oscar's gaze on her back, could still picture the way his shirt had ridden up to reveal his toned abs.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the images from her mind. She had to focus, had to get to Alexandra's house, and retrieve her purse before her thoughts spiraled out of control again.

Y/n made her way to Alexandra's house, the short walk doing little to clear her head. As she approached the front door, she heard the unmistakable sound of giggling coming from upstairs. Curious, she crept up the stairs, following the noise to Alexandra's bedroom.

Peeking through the crack in the door, Y/n's eyes widened at the sight before her. There, on Alexandra's bed, were Alex and Rebecca, their lips locked in a passionate kiss.

Y/n knocked on the door, a teasing lilt to her voice as she called out, "Excuse me, guys, but I need to know where my purse is?"

Alexandra jumped, breaking away from Rebecca with a startled yelp. "Y/n!" she exclaimed, her face flushing a deep red. "I...um...your purse is on the dresser."

Y/n laughed, pushing open the door fully. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I just figured you might need a reminder that you brought my purse with you."

Rebecca laughed, waving hello to Y/n. "Hey there!"

Alexandra turned to Y/n, her expression softening with concern. "Why did you leave the service early? Are you feeling okay?"

Y/n shrugged, trying to play it off casually. "I just needed some air, that's all. It was getting a bit stuffy in there."

Alexandra nodded, but her eyes narrowed slightly as she took in Y/n's appearance. "Are you sure that's all? You look a little...flushed."

Y/n laughed, gesturing to the scene before her. "Oh please, look who's talking. You're the one kneeling on the bed beside Rebecca like you're all innocent."

Alexandra's blush deepened, but she grinned sheepishly. "Guilty as charged. But hey, you caught us. Might as well join in, right?"

Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smile. "I'll pass, thanks. You two have fun, though. I'll let myself out and lock the front door on my way."

"Okay, your loss," Alexandra said with a shrug, a mischievous glint in her eye. Before Y/n could even respond, Alexandra leaned back down and captured Rebecca's lips in a kiss yet again.

As she made her way back to her own house, Y/n's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was disgusted with herself for indulging in such sinful thoughts. But on the other hand, she couldn't deny the intense arousal that coursed through her veins, the desperate need to be touched and desired.

By the time she reached her front door, Y/n was practically panting with desire. She fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Once she was alone, Y/n leaned against the wall, her eyes fluttering closed as she tried to catch her breath. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.

Y/n walked over to the fridge, her mind still reeling from the erotic scene she had just witnessed. She reached for the handle, intending to grab a cold drink to cool herself down, when something caught her eye.

There, stuck to the fridge with a magnet, was a note from her father. "Sorry sweetheart, I won't be back till Wednesday," it read. "I just got a call - there's an emergency meeting for all the pastors in the city. Text me if you finish reading this."

Y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping in disappointment. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath. With her father gone, there would be no one to keep her in check, no one to stop her from indulging in her darkest desires.

Her mind immediately wandered back to Oscar, to the way his shirt had ridden up to reveal his toned abs, to the tantalizing glimpse of his happy trail. Y/n bit her lip, her body aching with need.

Y/n quickly pulled out her phone and texted her father, letting him know she was home safe. Once that was done, she headed to her room, her mind already racing with thoughts of Oscar.

Inside her bedroom, Y/n stripped off her church clothes, tossing them carelessly onto the floor. She rummaged through her drawers until she found a pair of soft, worn-in shorts and a loose tank top. The clothes were comfortable, but they also left little to the imagination, hugging her curves in all the right places.

As she changed, Y/n couldn't help but imagine Oscar's reaction if he saw her like this. Would his eyes darken with desire? Would he reach out and touch her, his hands exploring every inch of her body?

Y/n shivered at the thought, her nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of her top. She knew she should stop these thoughts, should focus on something else. But it was too late. The seed had been planted, and now all she could think about was Oscar, and the way he made her feel.

She laid back on her bed, her gaze drifting over the photos that adorned her walls. There were pictures of her and her father, smiling and laughing together at various events and outings. There were photos of her and Alexandra, capturing their close friendship over the years. Scattered among them were snapshots from her childhood, reminding her of simpler times.

But even as she looked at these cherished memories, Y/n's mind kept drifting back to Oscar. She couldn't shake the image of him from her head, couldn't stop thinking about the way he had looked at her in the church, the way his presence had made her feel.

Y/n sat up suddenly, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what she had to do. She couldn't fight this attraction anymore, couldn't deny the desire that burned within her.

Y/n locked her bedroom door, the click of the lock echoing in the silence of the house. She sat down on her bed, her heart racing as she debated with herself.

She had touched herself before, of course. It was a natural part of growing up, of exploring her own body and desires. But this time felt different. This time, the object of her fantasies was someone so pure, so innocent.

Oscar was a man of God, a symbol of everything that was good and holy in the world. And yet, here she was, imagining him in the most sinful of ways.

Y/n's hand drifted down to the waistband of her shorts, hesitating for a moment before slipping beneath the fabric. She could feel the heat of her own arousal, the slick wetness that coated her fingers.

She closed her eyes, picturing Oscar's face as she began to stroke herself. In her mind, he was kneeling before her, his hands caressing her thighs as he worshipped her body with his mouth.

Y/n's fingers dipped in and out of her slick folds, barely breaching the entrance to her aching core. She was teasing herself, drawing out the pleasure as she lost herself in her fantasies.

In her mind, Oscar's inexperienced tongue was exploring her most intimate places, his soft lips and gentle touches driving her wild with desire. She imagined herself guiding his head, praising him for doing such a good job, for making her feel so incredibly good.

And then, in her fantasy, Oscar looked up at her with those innocent eyes, his voice barely above a whisper as he asked, "Am I doing it correctly, Y/n? Is this what you want?"

Y/n's hips bucked at the thought, a soft moan escaping her lips as she plunged her fingers deeper into her dripping sex. All it would take was a few more strokes, a few more whispered words of encouragement from her imaginary Oscar.

In Y/n's vivid imagination, her hand wrapped around Oscar's throbbing cock, stroking him with a slow, sensual rhythm. She could feel how sensitive he was, how every touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

As she worked him closer and closer to the edge, Oscar began to buck his hips, thrusting into her hand with desperate need. Soft whimpers escaped his lips, his breath hot against her skin as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Y/n held his hand tightly, her fingers intertwined with his as she brought him to the brink of ecstasy. She could feel his heart racing, could sense the intensity of his desire as he clung to her, his body trembling with the force of his impending release.

With a final, firm stroke, Y/n pushed Oscar over the edge, his cock pulsing in her hand as he came with a low, guttural moan. She held him close, whispering words of comfort and encouragement as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, his cum spilling over her fingers in hot, sticky ropes.

Y/n's fantasy had brought her to the brink of orgasm, but it wasn't quite enough to push her over the edge. She stopped, her pussy pulsing with neediness as she took a moment to catch her breath.

After a few seconds, Y/n reached for her hairbrush, a makeshift dildo she had been using for months out of necessity. She couldn't risk her father finding a real sex toy in her possession, so she had learned to make do with whatever she could find.

The handle of the brush was smooth and hard, the perfect size to fill her aching void. Y/n slipped it inside her, a gasp escaping her lips as it stretched her tight walls.

She began to thrust the brush in and out of her dripping sex, her hips rocking in time with the movements of her hand. In her mind, it was Oscar's cock that was filling her, his strong hands gripping her hips as he pounded into her with wild abandon.

As Y/n continued to fuck herself with the hairbrush handle, her mind was flooded with the same forbidden fantasies that had troubled her as she recited the rosary. She pictured herself bent over the altar, her dress hiked up around her waist as Oscar took her from behind. She imagined the cool marble against her skin, the weight of his body pressing her down as he claimed her with his cock.

In another scenario, she saw herself in the bell tower, the heavy ropes of the bells swaying above her as Oscar lifted her onto his lap. She could feel the rough wood of the floorboards digging into her knees as she rode him, her hands gripping his shoulders for support.

But it was the confession booth that really set her imagination ablaze. She pictured herself on her knees, her head hidden behind the screen as Oscar stood before her, his cock hard and ready. She would take him into her mouth, her lips stretched wide around his girth as she worshipped him with her tongue.

Y/n knew that every corner of the chapel was adorned with images and symbols of God - crucifixes, paintings of Jesus, statues of angels and saints. But as she fucked herself with the hairbrush handle, lost in her forbidden fantasies, she couldn't bring herself to care.

The thought of God watching her, of Him bearing witness to her sinful desires, only heightened her arousal. She could almost feel His disapproving gaze upon her, could imagine the shame and guilt that would surely follow if she ever acted on her fantasies and gave in to lust with Oscar.

But fuck, it felt so good. The taboo nature of it all, the knowledge that she was defiling a sacred space with her carnal thoughts, only served to drive her closer and closer to the edge.

Y/n's hips moved faster, the hairbrush handle slamming into her G-spot with each thrust. Her moans grew louder, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she chased her rapidly approaching orgasm.

As Y/n's orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing with the force of her release, she cried out in ecstasy. "God, fuck! Fuck, fuck, so good!"

Her eyes rolled back in her head, her vision blurring as she rode out the intense waves of pleasure. And in that moment, as her mind was lost in a haze of lust and sin, she swore she saw a figure standing before her.

It was God Himself, His face twisted in a mixture of anger and disappointment. He reached out to her, His hand hovering just inches from her flushed skin, as if He wanted to strike her down for her transgressions.

But Y/n was too far gone to care. She was lost in the throes of her climax, her body shaking and twitching as she came harder than she ever had before. The image of God faded away, replaced by a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations that left her breathless and spent.

Y/n collapsed back onto her bed, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her intense orgasm. Slowly, she withdrew the hairbrush handle from her dripping pussy, a low whimper escaping her lips as she felt the sudden emptiness.

She lay there for a moment, catching her breath and trying to process the overwhelming emotions that coursed through her. Shame, guilt, and a lingering sense of arousal all battled for dominance in her mind.

As the haze of lust began to clear, Y/n's thoughts turned once again to the forbidden nature of her fantasies. She knew that what she had done was wrong, that her desires were sinful and unholy. But she couldn't deny the intensity of her feelings, the way her body had responded to the mere thought of Oscar.

With a sigh, Y/n sat up and tossed the hairbrush aside, wiping the sticky evidence of her pleasure from her thighs. She knew she needed to put these thoughts out of her mind, to focus on being a good daughter and a devout follower of God.

As the post-orgasmic haze lifted, a wave of embarrassment and shame washed over Y/n. She glanced around her room, suddenly hyper-aware of the sacred objects that surrounded her. Her eyes landed on the small statue of the Virgin Mary that sat on a tiny altar in the corner, and she felt her cheeks flush with heat.

Quickly, Y/n pulled her shorts back on, trying to cover herself as if the statue could see through her clothes and judge her for what she had just done. She avoided looking at the altar, afraid of what she might see in Mary's serene, knowing eyes.

Y/n's mind raced with thoughts of repentance and atonement. She knew she needed to pray, to ask for forgiveness for her sinful actions. But even as she thought about kneeling before the altar and confessing her sins, a small part of her rebelled against the idea.

Y/n stumbled into the bathroom, her legs still shaky from the intensity of her orgasm. She turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on her face, hoping to wash away the lingering flush of arousal from her cheeks.

But as she looked at herself in the mirror, she knew that no amount of water could cleanse her of the sins she had just committed. Her eyes were dark and haunted, her expression a mix of shame and lingering desire.

She grabbed a washcloth and wiped between her legs, trying to remove any evidence of her self-pleasure. But even as she scrubbed, she knew it was futile. The stain of her sin ran deeper than any soap or water could reach.

Y/n's mind wandered back to the statue of the Virgin Mary in her room, and she felt a pang of guilt. She knew she should be praying, should be asking for forgiveness, and vowing to do better. But the thought of facing Mary, of confessing her sins to the mother of God herself, filled her with dread.

She emerged from the bathroom, her body still tingling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She made her way to the kitchen, her mind still reeling from the intensity of her sinful thoughts.

She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with cool water from the tap, taking a long sip to calm her nerves. The liquid soothed her parched throat, but did little to quench the thirst that still burned within her.

Y/n hopped up onto the kitchen counter, her feet dangling as she sat perched on the cool granite. It was a habit her father had always playfully scolded her for, but in his absence, she found herself craving the rebellious thrill of it.

As she swung her legs back and forth, Y/n's mind drifted once again to Oscar. She wondered what he was doing, if he was thinking about her too. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her body, and she squeezed her thighs together, trying to ignore the renewed ache between her legs.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she heard the unexpected knock at the door. She quickly composed herself and made her way over, smoothing down her hair and adjusting her clothes before opening it.

To her surprise, she found Alexandra standing there, her back turned as she waved goodbye to Rebecca, who was walking away down the path. Y/n blinked in confusion, wondering what her best friend was doing here so suddenly.

"Alexandra? What are you doing here?" Y/n asked, her voice still slightly breathless from her earlier activities.

Alexandra turned around, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she took in Y/n's flushed cheeks and disheveled appearance. "I thought I'd come over and keep you company while your dad makes breakfast," she said, her tone playful and suggestive. "Plus, I figured you could use some girl talk after the way you were eye fucking one of the altar boys earlier."

Y/n let out an exasperated groan, her face flushing an even deeper shade of red as Alexandra's words confirmed her suspicions. Of course her best friend had noticed her shameless ogling of Oscar. There was no hiding anything from Alexandra.

"Ugh, don't remind me," Y/n muttered, stepping aside to let Alexandra enter the house. "Was I actually that obvious? I must have looked like such a creep."

Alexandra laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she brushed past Y/n and made her way into the living room. "Oh please, you weren't that bad. Besides, I'm sure he didn't mind the attention. He seemed pretty smitten with you too."

As she spoke, Alexandra called out in a loud, sing-song voice, "Good morning, Mr. L/n! Wherever you are!"

Y/n shook her head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "No, Dad's not home. He had to leave for an emergency meeting or something."

Alexandra raised an eyebrow, her nose wrinkling slightly as she sniffed the air. "Huh, that explains why I don't smell any food. Your dad usually has something cooking by now after Mass."

Y/n nodded, feeling a pang of sadness at the realization. Her father's absence always left a void in the house, a sense of incompleteness that she couldn't quite shake.

"Yeah, I'll have to fend for myself until Wednesday," she sighed, leading Alexandra towards the kitchen. "Want some cereal or something? It's not exactly gourmet, but it'll have to do."

Alexandra shrugged, a playful smirk on her face as she followed Y/n into the kitchen. "Sure, cereal sounds great. It's better than nothing at all."

As they rummaged through the cupboards for bowls and spoons, Alexandra couldn't help but notice the lingering tension in the air. She knew Y/n well enough to sense when something was bothering her, and the way her friend had been acting lately was definitely out of the ordinary.

"So, you wanna talk about it?" Alexandra asked softly, pouring milk into her bowl of cereal. "I know something's been on your mind lately. You've been distracted, and I'm worried about you."

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the box of cereal. She knew she could trust Alexandra, but the thought of voicing her forbidden desires out loud made her stomach twist with anxiety.

Alexandra's eyes softened with understanding, and she reached out to place a comforting hand on Y/n's arm. "Hey, it's okay," she reassured her, her voice gentle and encouraging. "There's nothing you could say that would be too much information for me. We've been through way too much together for that."

She chuckled lightly, remembering their teenage years and the countless sleepovers and baths they had shared. "Seriously, Y/n, you can tell me anything. I'm here for you, no matter what."

Y/n took a deep breath, her heart racing as she weighed her options. She knew she could trust Alexandra with her life, but the thought of confessing her sinful desires still made her palms sweat with nervousness.

As Alexandra took a spoonful of cereal into her mouth, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the confession she knew she needed to make. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her palms grew clammy with nerves, but she forced herself to speak.

"I... I masturbated while thinking about Oscar," Y/n blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper. She kept her eyes fixed on her bowl of cereal, unable to meet Alexandra's gaze as she waited for her friend's reaction.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, slowly, Alexandra lowered her spoon, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wait, what?" she asked, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief. "Who are you talking about?"

Y/n nodded, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she realized Alexandra's confusion. "Yeah, I know you're not exactly the best with names and faces," she said, shaking her head. "He's one of the altar boys, one of the tallest out of all the servers earlier."

Alexandra's eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. "Oh, shit," she breathed, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "You mean the hot one with the wavy-ish hair and the dimples?"

Y/n felt her cheeks flush with heat, and she nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, that's the one," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't stop thinking about him, Alexandra. It's like every time I close my eyes, I see his face, and I..."

She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence as a wave of shame and desire washed over her.

Y/n buried her face in her palms, a loud groan escaping her lips as she tried to find the words to express the depth of her shame and desire. "Fuck, man," she mumbled, her voice muffled by her hands. "I literally thought about..."

She stopped abruptly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she realized what she was about to say. Taking a deep breath, Y/n slowly lowered her hands, revealing a face that was equal parts mortified and determined.

"I... I wanted to get bent over the altar," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. "With him. With Oscar."

Alexandra's eyes widened, her mouth falling open in shock as she processed Y/n's confession. For a moment, she simply stared at her friend, her brain struggling to compute the sheer audacity of what Y/n had just admitted.

Alexandra let out a low whistle, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and disbelief. "Lord have mercy on your soul..." she joked, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "I never thought of you as the type to have such wild fantasies, Y/n."

Y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the kitchen counter. "I know," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I've always been the good girl, the pastor's daughter who always took the chance to pray and set a good example."

She paused for a moment, her brow furrowing as she tried to find the right words to explain the turmoil that raged within her. "But lately, I've been feeling... restless. Like there's this part of me that wants to break free, to explore things that I've always been taught are wrong or sinful."

Y/n's voice dropped to a hushed whisper as she continued, her eyes downcast and her cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and excitement. "I mean, I've already explored them, yeah, but..." She trailed off, biting her lip as she struggled to find the right words.

"I want to experience these things without the fear of being dragged to hell by the devil himself," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. "I want to feel alive, Alexandra. I want to know what it's like to give in to my desires, to let go of all the rules and restrictions that have been holding me back for so long."

Alexandra listened intently, her expression a mix of concern and understanding. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on Y/n's arm, her touch gentle and reassuring.

She smiled warmly, her eyes shining with a mix of affection and understanding. "It's okay, Y/n," Alexandra said softly, her voice filled with reassurance. "That's why we have each other. We're here so that we can express ourselves freely to each other without judgment."

She squeezed Y/n's arm gently, her touch a silent reminder of the unbreakable bond they shared. "You don't have to be afraid to explore your... fantasies, Y/n. I'm here for you, no matter what. And if anyone tries to drag you to hell for it, they'll have to go through me first."

Y/n let out a soft laugh, her eyes brimming with tears of gratitude and relief. She knew she could always count on Alexandra to be there for her, to support her no matter what.

Alexandra grinned mischievously, her eyes sparkling with a playful glint as she leaned in closer to Y/n. "Well, if you really want to explore these desires of yours, maybe you should just seduce him," she suggested, her voice low and conspiratorial.

Y/n's eyes widened, and she let out a surprised laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Alexandra!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and amusement. "I can't just go up to him and... and..."

She trailed off, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement as she considered the possibility. "Although..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe it's not such a bad idea. After all, what's the worst that could happen?"

Alexandra took a bite of her cereal, a playful smirk on her face as she chewed thoughtfully. "I don't know, you could get disowned if your father finds out," she said, her tone light and teasing.

Y/n's eyes widened in panic, and she leaned forward, her voice rising with each word. "Wait, do you really think he would disown me?" she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.

Alexandra's own eyes widened in surprise, and she waved her hands frantically in front of her. "No, no, of course not!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "He'll be mad, yes, but he won't disown you. I was just joking, Y/n. Don't freak out."

Y/n let out a shaky laugh, her hand pressed against her chest as she tried to calm her racing heart. "Please, never do that again," she pleaded, her voice still tinged with a hint of panic. "I might die of a heart attack before the alcohol I consume weekly gets to my liver."

Alexandra rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of guilt in her expression. "Fine, fine, I'll try to be more sensitive to your delicate constitution," she teased, her tone softening as she reached out to pat Y/n's hand reassuringly.

"But seriously, Y/n, you know your dad loves you. He might be strict, and he might be disappointed if he found out about your... extracurricular activities, but he would never disown you. You're his daughter, and nothing will ever change that."

Y/n nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she felt the tension drain from her body. "Yeah, you're right," she agreed, her voice soft and grateful. "I know my dad loves me, no matter what."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the question that had been nagging at her since she saw Alexandra with Rebecca earlier. "So, what's going on between you and Rebecca?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral. "I mean, you practically pounced on her before I even left your room. Are you guys...?"

Alexandra's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she busied herself with her cereal, avoiding Y/n's gaze. "Nothing," she mumbled, her voice barely audible over the clink of her spoon against the bowl. "We're just friends."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, unconvinced by Alexandra's dismissive response. "Just friends?" she pressed, her tone skeptical. "Because it looked like there was something more going on between you two."

The next day, Y/n found herself at the church, as she often did in her free time. She moved through the familiar space with ease, straightening pews and dusting shelves, lost in thought as she reflected on her conversation with Alexandra the day before.

As she made her way behind the altar in search of the broom they used indoors, Y/n ran into Oscar. He was kneeling on the floor, his head bowed in prayer, his wavy hair falling across his forehead.

Y/n froze, her heart skipping a beat as she took in the sight of him. He looked so peaceful, so serene, and she felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.

"Oscar?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own breathing.

Oscar startled at the sound of her voice, his head snapping up to look at her. His eyes widened in surprise, and a faint blush crept across his cheeks as he realized who it was.

“Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were praying.” Y/n said shyly, realizing she may have interrupted his sacred time with God.

Oscar stood up, brushing off his knees as he turned to face Y/n. "Hi," he said, his voice soft and warm. "No need to apologize. I was just finishing up anyway."

Y/n felt a rush of relief wash over her, and she smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, okay. Good," she said, her voice trembling slightly with nerves. "I was just looking for the broom. I'm supposed to be cleaning up around here."

Oscar nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "I can help you with that," he offered, gesturing towards the supply closet where the cleaning supplies were kept. "It's my turn to clean the altar anyway."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat at the prospect of spending more time with Oscar, and she felt a sudden surge of excitement mixed with anxiety. "That would be great," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Thank you."

Oscar handed Y/n the broom, and they made their way out into the main sanctuary. As Oscar began cleaning the altar, Y/n started sweeping the floor, the soft swish of the broom mingling with the hushed conversations of the churchgoers.

The congregation seemed unbothered by their presence, as it was a fairly normal sight to see the altar boys tending to the altar and Y/n cleaning. They went about their tasks quietly, the only sounds being the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional clink of metal as Oscar polished the candlesticks.

As Y/n swept, her mind wandered back to her conversation with Alexandra. She couldn't help but think about what it would be like to be with Oscar, to feel his strong hands on her body, to taste his lips against hers. The thought made her cheeks flush with heat, and she quickly pushed it aside, focusing instead on the task at hand.

Y/n found herself zoning out, her mind wandering as she swept the same spots over and over again, as if trying to erase some invisible stain. She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice when Oscar had finished cleaning the altar and had moved on to wiping down the glass cases that held the statues of various saints.

It wasn't until she heard the soft clink of glass that Y/n snapped back to reality, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized how distracted she had been. She glanced over at Oscar, who was diligently working his way down the line of statues, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as she watched him work. She couldn't help but admire the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt, the way his hair fell across his forehead as he leaned in to clean the higher shelves. It was almost enough to make her forget where they were, to make her want to reach out and touch him, consequences be damned.

She quickly made her way back behind the altar, putting the broom away in its designated spot. She then headed to the front pew, the same place she had sat in yesterday and for years before, having been the one to always read the second readings during mass.

As she settled onto the hard wooden bench, Y/n let out a soft sigh, her chest rising and falling with each breath. She could still feel the heat of Oscar's presence, the way her heart had raced as she watched him work. It was almost too much to bear, the desire that coursed through her veins, the longing to be close to him.

Y/n closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the pew as she tried to calm her racing thoughts. She knew it was wrong, that she should be focused on her faith, on serving God, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to Oscar's presence.

As she sat there, lost in thought, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to change, that her life was about to take a turn she never could have anticipated.

Y/n's eyes fluttered open as she felt the pew shift slightly beside her. She turned her head to see Oscar settling in next to her, a slightly damp rag clutched in his hand.

"Man, that was exhausting," he said, his voice low and tired. "I don't know how you do it, Y/n. Cleaning this whole place by yourself."

Y/n smiled softly, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice so close to her. "It's not so bad," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's kind of peaceful, actually. A chance to clear my head and just... be."

She shifted slightly, her thigh brushing against Oscar's as she did so. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and she felt her cheeks flush with heat.

Oscar turned to look at Y/n, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Be...?" he repeated, his voice trailing off as he searched her face for answers.

Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as she tried to find the right words to explain the turmoil that raged within her. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm not really living, you know? Like I'm just going through the motions, pretending to be someone I'm not."

She paused, her gaze drifting to the stained glass windows that cast a puzzle of colors across the sanctuary. "But when I'm here, cleaning, praying... it's like I can finally breathe. Like I can finally be myself."

Oscar nodded slowly, his eyes softening with understanding. "I know what you mean," he said, his voice low and earnest. "Sometimes it feels like the whole world is expecting us to be something we're not. To fit into these perfect little boxes that don't really exist."

Y/n let out a quiet groan, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the pew. "This is making me sad," she admitted, her voice heavy with emotion.

Oscar's brow furrowed with concern, and he reached out to place a comforting hand on Y/n's arm. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, his thumb rubbing small circles on her skin. "Let's do something fun. How about we go get a milkshake at the diner?"

Y/n's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. "Sure," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "That sounds perfect."

They stood up from the pew, Oscar's hand lingering on Y/n's arm for a moment longer than necessary. As they made their way out of the church, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with nervousness. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way, but she couldn't deny the way her heart raced at the prospect of spending more time with Oscar.

The diner was a short, five-minute walk away from the church, nestled on the corner of Main Street. As they stepped inside, the bell above the door chimed, announcing their arrival. The scent of fried food and coffee hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sound of clinking dishes and low chatter.

Oscar led the way to a booth in the back, sliding in across from Y/n. She watched as he flagged down the waitress, ordering a chocolate milkshake for himself and a vanilla one for her. Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, a soft blush coloring her cheeks.

"Vanilla is my favorite," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "How did you know?"

Oscar grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Your dad talks about you a lot," he admitted, his voice low and conspiratorial. "I may have picked up a few things."

Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at the thought of her father talking about her, of Oscar taking the time to listen and remember the little details.

As the milkshakes arrived, Y/n found her mind drifting back to her conversation with Alexandra. The words "seduce him" echoed in her head, a tantalizing whisper that set her heart racing.

Without thinking, Y/n reached for the whipped cream on top of her milkshake, scooping up a dollop with her finger. She brought it to her lips, her tongue darting out to lick it off slowly and deliberately. It was an innocent gesture, but there was something undeniably sensual about the way she did it, the way her eyes locked with Oscar's as she savored the sweetness.

"Mmm, delicious," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "I love vanilla."

Oscar's eyes widened, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Y/n's lips, from the way they glistened with the remnants of the whipped cream.

"I... I'm glad you like it," he stammered, his voice rough with emotion.

Y/n tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering on the soft skin of her neck. She bent forward, her lips parting as she took the cherry from the top of the whipped cream, her tongue darting out to catch the sweet, sticky juice.

She sat back up, a playful laugh escaping her lips as she caught Oscar's wide-eyed stare. He was praying in his head, begging God not to tempt him like this, to keep him pure and innocent. But with each passing moment, each glimpse of Y/n's flesh, his resolve was crumbling.

"What's the matter, Oscar?" Y/n teased, her voice low and sultry. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Oscar swallowed hard, his throat dry and tight. "N-nothing," he stammered, his eyes darting away from hers. "I'm fine."

As they sipped their milkshakes, Y/n continued her innocent yet seductive antics. She ran her fingers along the rim of the glass, her eyes never leaving Oscar's face as she watched him squirm in his seat.

"So tell me, Oscar," she purred, her voice low and breathy. "What do you like to do for fun?"

Oscar nearly choked on his milkshake, coughing and sputtering as he tried to regain his composure. "I... I like to read," he managed, his voice hoarse. "And play guitar. And... and help out at the church."

Y/n leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she propped her chin in her hands. "That's nice," she said, her voice dripping with honey. "I bet you're really good with your hands. With the guitar, I mean."

Y/n leaned back in her seat, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she took another sip of her milkshake. "You know, Oscar," she said, her voice low and sultry, "I've always wondered what it would be like to play the guitar."

She set her glass down, her tongue darting out to lick a stray drop of milkshake from the corner of her mouth. "Maybe you could teach me sometime," she purred, her gaze never leaving his. "I'm a quick learner."

Oscar's heart was pounding in his chest, his palms sweaty as he gripped the edge of the table. He knew he should put a stop to this, to tell Y/n that he couldn't be her teacher, that it was wrong. But the temptation was too great, the desire too strong.

"I... I'd be happy to teach you," he managed, his voice rough with emotion. "Anytime you want."

Y/n smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Okay, I'll think about it," she said, her voice light and airy. As she shifted in her seat, her foot brushed against Oscar's thigh, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through his body.

"Oops," she giggled, her cheeks flushing with feigned innocence. "Sorry about that."

Oscar's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to maintain his composure. He knew it was just an accident, that Y/n didn't mean anything by it. But the way she looked at him, the way her foot lingered on his thigh, it was enough to drive him wild with desire.

"It's... it's okay," he managed, his voice hoarse and strained. "Accidents happen."

Y/n leaned forward, her eyes wide and innocent as she looked up at Oscar through her lashes. "Hey, Oscar," she said, her voice soft and sweet. "Can I try a sip of your milkshake? I've never had the chocolate flavor before. My dad always gets the black coffee, and I've just been getting vanilla ever since I was a kid."

Oscar's heart skipped a beat at the request, his mind racing with the implications. He knew it was just a milkshake, just a simple, innocent gesture. But the way Y/n looked at him, the way her lips parted as she waited for his answer, it was enough to make his head spin.

"Sure," he managed, his voice rough with emotion. He slid his glass across the table, his fingers brushing against hers as she reached for it.

Y/n wrapped her lips around the straw, her eyes never leaving Oscar's as she took a long, slow sip. She let out a soft moan of appreciation, savoring the taste.

"Mmm, it's good," Y/n purred, her eyes half-lidded as she set the glass back down on the table. "But I still prefer my vanilla milkshake."

She took another sip of her own drink, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of cream on her bottom lip. "There's just something about the simplicity of vanilla, you know? It's pure, untainted. Innocent."

Oscar swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He knew Y/n was just talking about the milkshake, but the way she spoke, the way her words seemed to hang in the air between them, it was enough to make his head spin.

"I... I understand," he managed, his voice hoarse. "Vanilla is a classic for a reason."

Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Exactly," she said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. "Sometimes, the simplest things are the most satisfying."

Y/n leaned back in her seat, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked up at Oscar. "Hey, Oscar," she said, her voice low and sultry. "My dad's not going to be home tonight, so I was thinking... maybe you could come over later and help me practice guitar?"

She bit her lip, her teeth sinking into the soft, plump flesh as she waited for his response. "We could stay up late, just the two of us. I'm sure you could teach me a thing or two."

Oscar's heart was pounding in his chest, his palms sweaty as he gripped the edge of the table. He knew it was a bad idea, that he should say no, that he should run as far away from Y/n as possible. But the temptation was too great, the desire too strong.

"I'd- I'd love to," he managed, his voice rough but hesitant. "Just give me a call when you're ready."

Y/n clapped her hands together, her face lighting up with excitement. "Yay!" she exclaimed, her voice high and girlish. "I can't wait to learn how to play guitar."

She leaned back in her seat, her demeanor shifting to something more playful and innocent. As they continued to talk, Oscar found himself struggling to focus, his mind still reeling from Y/n's bold flirtation.

He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, his skin flushed and tingling with a strange new sensation. He had never felt so... desired before, so wanted. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, a rush of adrenaline that left him breathless and dizzy.

Throughout the rest of their conversation, Oscar found himself stealing glances at Y/n, his eyes lingering on the curve of her lips, and the softness of her skin. He knew it was wrong, that he should push these feelings aside and focus on his faith, but he couldn't help the way his heart raced at the thought of seeing her again later, of being alone with her in the privacy of her home.

Y/n walked towards the door, her heart racing with anticipation. She had chosen her outfit carefully, wanting to strike a balance between comfort and allure. She wore a pair of shorts that were short enough to reveal an unholy amount of skin, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places.

On top, she had opted for a white shirt that was sheer enough to hint at the outline of her bra beneath, the delicate lace peeking through the thin fabric, contrasting the gold cross necklace she had worn her entire life

As she reached for the doorknob, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the evening ahead. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way about Oscar. But she couldn't deny the thrill that ran through her at the thought of being alone with him, of having his undivided attention.

With a final twist of the knob, Y/n pulled open the door, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Oscar standing on the other side. "Hey there," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "Come on in."

Oscar stepped inside, his eyes widening as he took in Y/n's appearance. "Thanks for inviting me," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "No need to thank me, Oscar," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "I'm the one who should be thanking you for agreeing to teach me."

She gestured towards the living room, her hips swaying slightly as she walked. "We can practice in here, it's nice and spacious. But fair warning, it's a bit hot in here. No AC."

Y/n turned back to face him, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Or we could practice in my room. It's a bit smaller, but the AC works perfectly. Your choice."

"I think I'd prefer a cold room over a hot one," he said shyly, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

She shot him a warm smile, "Okay, follow me." She gestured, making her way up the stairs.

scar's gaze flickered over the photos lining the walls as Y/n led him upstairs, his heart clenching at the sight of her and her father together. There were pictures of them at the beach, at her graduation, at various milestones throughout her life. Occasionally, a photo of Alexandra and Y/n would appear, the two girls grinning at the camera, their arms slung around each other's waists.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Y/n paused, turning to face Oscar. "My room's just down the hall," she said, her voice soft. "Last door on the right."

She started walking again, her hips swaying slightly as she moved. Oscar followed behind her, his eyes glued to the gentle curve of her spine, the way her shirt clung to her back.

When they reached her room, Y/n pushed open the door, gesturing for Oscar to enter. "After you," she purred, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

The room was exactly as Oscar had imagined it would be. Simple, minimalistic, with a white metal bed frame and a small crucifix hanging above it. In the corner, there was a small altar with a statue of the Virgin Mary, and on the bedside table, a pink pearl rosary lay coiled neatly. The bedspread was mostly white, with delicate pink flowers scattered across the surface, and the pillowcases were the reverse, with a pink background and white flowers.

"You can sit wherever you're comfortable," Y/n said, gesturing to the bed and the floor. "I'll go grab my dad's guitar."

As she turned to leave, Oscar's eyes lingered on the bed, on the soft, inviting surface. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He was here to teach Y/n how to play guitar, nothing more.

He settled himself on the edge of the bed, his fingers tracing the intricate pattern of the bedspread. The room was cool and quiet, the hum of the air conditioner a soothing background noise.

As he waited for Y/n to return, he couldn't help but notice the subtle details of her room. There was a faint, delicate scent of jasmine in the air, which he later discovered came from a small air freshener perched on her dresser. Everywhere he looked, there were hints of innocence - the soft pink hues of her bedding, the occasional hair tie scattered on her nightstand, the various rings she wore on her slender fingers.

On the wall, there was a framed dried flower, its petals faded and brittle with age. Oscar wondered about its significance, about the memories it held for Y/n.

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Y/n entering the room, a guitar case in her hands. She set it down on the bed beside him, her fingers lingering on the smooth, worn leather.

"Okay," she said, her voice bright and eager. "Let's get started."

Oscar helped Y/n remove the guitar from its case, his fingers brushing against hers as he took it from her hands. He held it up, examining it closely. "When was the last time this was tuned?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Y/n bit her lip, her eyes darting away from his. "To be honest, we haven't used it in about two years," she admitted, her voice sheepish. "We kind of forgot about it."

Oscar nodded, his fingers plucking at the strings experimentally. They were out of tune, the notes discordant and jarring. "No worries," he said, his voice reassuring. "We can tune it right now."

He sat down on the bed, patting the space beside him for Y/n to join. As she settled in next to him, Oscar began to tune the guitar, his fingers moving deftly over the strings. The room filled with the soft, melodic sounds of the instrument coming to life, the notes blending together in perfect harmony.

Oscar finished tuning the guitar and handed it to Y/n, his fingers lingering on hers for a moment longer than necessary. "Here you go," he said, his voice soft. "Now, let's start with the basics."

He sat beside her on the bed, his leg brushing against hers as he demonstrated the proper way to hold the guitar. "Keep your thumb behind the neck of the guitar," he instructed, his hand guiding hers. "And wrap your fingers around the fretboard like this."

As he showed her how to position her fingers, Oscar couldn't help but notice the way Y/n's hands felt in his, the softness of her skin, the delicate strength in her fingers. He swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Now, let's try strumming," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. He reached over, his hand covering hers as he guided the pick across the strings. The guitar came alive under their touch, the notes ringing out clear and bright.

"Good job," Oscar said, his voice warm with approval. He leaned in closer, his eyes focused on the way Y/n was holding the guitar. It seemed awkward, her fingers splayed across the fretboard in an unnatural position.

As he tried to adjust her grip, his gaze drifted lower, drawn to the tantalizing glimpse of cleavage peeking out from the neckline of her shirt. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as his eyes lingered on the soft swell of her breasts.

Realizing what he was doing, Oscar quickly closed his eyes, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He couldn't let himself be tempted like this, not when he was supposed to be teaching her, guiding her.

He forced himself to focus on the guitar, on the feel of the smooth wood beneath his fingers, the cool metal of the strings. "Let's try that again," he said, his voice strained. "This time, keep your wrist straight, like this."

His hand covered hers once more, his touch gentle but firm as he guided her through the proper technique.

As Y/n began to get the hang of the guitar, her fingers moving more confidently across the fretboard, Oscar felt a sense of pride and accomplishment. She was a natural, her hands seeming to instinctively find the right positions, the right chords.

But then, in a moment of enthusiasm, Y/n applied too much pressure to one of the strings, the sharp edge of the fret digging into her fingertip. She gasped, her hand jerking away from the guitar as a thin line of blood welled up on her finger.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise and pain. She brought her finger to her mouth, sucking on the wound instinctively.

Oscar's heart clenched at the sight, his hand reaching out to steady the guitar as it threatened to slip from her lap. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Y/n nodded, her eyes meeting his. "It's just a little cut," she said, her voice muffled by her finger. "Nothing serious."

Oscar could see the pain in Y/n's eyes, the way she was trying to hold back tears. His heart ached for her, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. "Let me see," he said softly, his thumb brushing over the cut on her finger.

"It must hurt," he murmured, his brow furrowed with concern. "Do you have a bandaid here?"

Y/n nodded, pointing to the small desk in the corner of her room. "Yeah, there's a box in the drawer."

He stood up, crossing the room to retrieve the bandages. As he rummaged through the drawer, he couldn't help but notice the personal items scattered amongst the clutter- a hairbrush, a tube of lip gloss, a few loose change. He felt a pang of guilt for intruding on her private space but pushed the feeling aside.

He returned to the bed, sitting down beside Y/n once more. "Here," he said, holding out a small, square bandage. "Let me put this on for you."

Oscar carefully applied the bandage to Y/n's finger, his touch gentle and precise. As he finished, their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. There was only the two of them, the warmth of the room, the softness of the bed beneath them.

Before Oscar could react, Y/n leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a tender kiss. He froze for a moment, his mind reeling with shock and confusion. But as Y/n's lips moved against his, he found himself kissing her back, his own inexperience evident in the awkward, tentative movements of his mouth.

Y/n could tell that Oscar hadn't kissed anyone before, and a part of her was thrilled at the idea of being his first. She deepened the kiss, her tongue darting out to trace the seam of his lips, coaxing him to open for her.

Oscar pulled away from the kiss, his heart pounding in his chest. He was flustered, his mind spinning with a whirlwind of emotions and desires. "Y/n, we can't," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is the devil tempting us, trying to lead us astray."

But Y/n wasn't having it. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear. "Then why does it feel so good?" she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Tell me you want me too, Oscar. I don't care if we're going to hell for it. I just need you."

Her words sent a shiver down Oscar's spine, his body responding to her touch, her proximity. He knew it was wrong, that he should resist, that he should push her away. But the desire coursing through his veins was too strong, too overwhelming.

"I... I do want you," he admitted, his voice trembling with longing. "But we can't. It's not right."

Y/n's eyes gleamed with determination as she gazed into Oscar's conflicted face. She knew she had him on the hook, and she wasn't about to let him slip away.

"Oscar," she purred, her voice low and seductive. "Don't you believe that God forgives those who truly repent? That He understands the weakness of the flesh?"

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "We can give in to this temptation, just this once. And then we can confess our sins, ask for forgiveness. It's not like we're doing anything truly sinful, after all. We're human, we can sin every once in a while."

Oscar's breath hitched in his throat, his resolve crumbling under the weight of Y/n's persuasive words. He knew what she was saying made sense, that it was a logical argument. But still, a small part of him hesitated, unsure if he was truly ready to cross that line.

Y/n's words washed over Oscar like a tidal wave, eroding his resistance with each passing second. "It's a sign, Oscar," she breathed, her eyes wide and imploring. "Look around you. It's just the two of us, nobody to disturb us, nobody to judge us. Maybe it's meant to be. Maybe we're meant to give in to our desires, just this one time."

Her hands slid up his chest, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. Oscar's heart raced, his body responding to her touch despite his mind's protests. He knew what she was saying made sense, that they were alone, that no one would ever know. But still, a part of him hesitated, unsure if he was truly ready to cross that line.

Y/n leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches from his. "Please, Oscar," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "I need you. I want you. Let's just forget about everything else for a while and focus on each other."

Oscar's resolve was crumbling, his body betraying his mind as Y/n's seductive words washed over him. "But they're watching," he whispered, his eyes darting to the crucifix and the statue of the Virgin Mary.

Y/n followed his gaze, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Let them watch," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "They know this is natural, Oscar. They'll understand. It's not like we're committing some unforgivable sin."

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "God created us with these desires, Oscar. He wouldn't condemn us for acting on them."

His heart raced, his body responding to Y/n's touch despite his mind's protests. He knew what she was saying made sense, that it was a logical argument.

Y/n's hands slid down Oscar's chest, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt. "Don't you see, Oscar?" she breathed, her eyes dark with desire. "This is meant to be. We're meant to be together, to share this moment. It's a gift from God."

Her lips trailed along his jawline, her teeth grazing his skin. "Think about it," she murmured, her voice low and seductive. "We're alone, with no one to disturb us. No one to judge us. It's like we're in our own little world, a world where the only thing that matters is us."

Oscar's breath hitched in his throat, his body responding to Y/n's touch despite his mind's protests. He knew what she was saying made sense, that it was a logical argument. But still, a part of him hesitated, unsure if he was truly ready to cross that line.

Oscar's resistance finally crumbled, his body melting into Y/n's embrace as he returned her kisses with a shy, tentative passion. "I... I don't know how to please a woman," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've never... I'm a virgin."

Y/n's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before being replaced by a look of tender understanding. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured, her fingers caressing his cheek. "I'll guide you, Oscar. We'll take it slow, and I'll show you everything you need to know."

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Just trust me, and let yourself feel. Let yourself experience the pleasure that God has gifted us with."

Y/n gently guided Oscar to sit on the edge of the bed, her hands resting on his shoulders. "Just relax," she murmured, her voice soft and reassuring. "I'll take care of you."

She knelt down in front of him, her eyes level with his crotch. Slowly, teasingly, she ran her hands up his thighs, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles through the fabric of his jeans.

Oscar's breath hitched in his throat, his body responding to her touch despite his nervousness. He had never been this intimate with anyone before, and the thought of Y/n touching him in such a way both thrilled and terrified him.

Y/n's fingers dug into Oscar's thighs, her nails lightly scraping against his skin as she squeezed and massaged the firm muscle. She could feel him shudder under her touch, his body responding to her teasing caresses.

A wicked smile played on her lips as she heard his sharp intake of breath. She loved seeing him like this, vulnerable and at her mercy. It was a heady feeling, knowing that she had the power to make him tremble with desire.

Slowly, deliberately, she reached for the zipper of his jeans, her fingers toying with the metal tab. She could see the bulge in his pants, the evidence of his arousal, and it only served to fuel her own desire.

With a swift tug, she pulled down his zipper, the sound of the metal teeth parting echoing in the quiet room. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and boxers, pulling them down in one smooth motion until they pooled around his ankles.

Oscar flinched as Y/n eagerly tugged down his jeans and boxers, exposing his most intimate parts to her hungry gaze. Feeling shy and embarrassed by her boldness, he quickly covered his face and mouth with one hand, hiding behind it as she began to touch him.

Y/n's fingers danced along his inner thighs, slowly making their way higher and higher. She could feel his body trembling under her touch, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She reveled in the power she held over him, in the way she could make him quiver with just a simple caress.

"Relax, Oscar," she purred, her voice low and seductive. "There's no need to be shy. I'm going to make you feel so good."

Her hand wrapped around his hardening length, her fingers stroking him slowly, teasingly. Oscar let out a low moan, his hips bucking involuntarily as she touched him.

Oscar whimpered as Y/n's fingers danced along his sensitive skin, her touch both tantalizing and overwhelming. "Have you ever touched yourself?" she asked, her voice low and seductive.

Oscar's face flushed a deep crimson, his eyes darting away from hers. "N-no," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n chuckled, her fingers continuing their teasing exploration. "I don't believe you," she purred, her thumb grazing the tip of his hardening length.

He let out a low moan, his hips bucking involuntarily as she touched him. "I... I tried," he admitted, his voice trembling with embarrassment. "But I didn't know how."

Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Give me your hand," she purred, her voice low and seductive.

Oscar hesitated for a moment, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. But as Y/n's fingers intertwined with his, he found himself giving in to her guidance.

She wrapped his hand around his hardening length, her fingers gently curling around his own. "Like this," she murmured, her voice soft and encouraging. "You can go slow."

She guided his hand in a slow, steady rhythm, her fingers gliding along his shaft with each stroke. Oscar let out a low moan, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the sensation.

"Or you can go faster," Y/n whispered, her hand speeding up the pace. Oscar gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily as she increased the intensity of his strokes.

Oscar's shy moans filled the room as Y/n continued to guide his hand, her fingers curling around his own as she showed him how to stroke himself. "That feels good, doesn't it?" she purred, her voice low and seductive.

He nodded, his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself in the sensation. He had never felt anything like this before, the pleasure coursing through his body like a raging river.

Y/n's hand sped up, her fingers gliding along his shaft with each stroke. Oscar's breath came in short, sharp gasps, his hips bucking involuntarily as she increased the intensity of his pleasure.

"You're doing so well, Oscar," she murmured, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Just let yourself feel it. Let yourself enjoy it."

Y/n's fingers slowed their strokes, her hand still intertwined with Oscar's as she guided him. "I'm going to do something now," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Don't freak out, okay?"

Oscar nodded, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Okay," he managed to choke out, his eyes wide with anticipation and nervousness.

Slowly, teasingly, Y/n leaned forward, her lips parting as she took the tip of his cock into her mouth. Oscar let out a low, guttural moan, his fingers tightening around hers as he felt the warm, wet heat of her mouth enveloping him.

Her head bobbed up and down, her lips sealed tightly around Oscar's shaft as she began to suck. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive tip, her cheeks hollowing as she increased the suction.

Oscar's fingers tightened around hers, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. But as Y/n guided his hands away from his cock, he found himself letting go, his palms coming to rest on her shoulders as she took him deeper into her mouth.

The cross necklace around Y/n's neck dangled and swayed with each movement of her head, the gold chain catching the light as it brushed against her skin. Oscar watched, transfixed, as the symbol of her faith bounced and twirled, a stark contrast to the act she was performing.

Y/n's lips stretched around his length, her throat constricting as she took him deeper and deeper. Oscar's head fell back, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lost himself in the intense pleasure of her mouth.

Oscar's eyes rolled back in his head as Y/n's mouth worked its magic on his throbbing length. "Oh my god," he groaned, the words tumbling from his lips without a second thought.

For a brief moment, the realization that he had just taken the Lord's name in vain flashed through his mind. But the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body quickly pushed any thoughts of sin or guilt aside.

Y/n's tongue swirled around his shaft, her lips sealed tightly around him as she bobbed her head up and down. The wet, obscene sounds of her sucking filled the room, mingling with Oscar's breathy moans and gasps.

He tangled his fingers in her hair, his hips rocking back and forth as he lost himself in the sensation. Nothing else mattered in that moment - not his faith, not his vows, not the consequences of his actions. All that existed was the feeling of Y/n's mouth on his cock, and the all-consuming need for more.

Y/n could feel Oscar's body tensing, his grip on her hair loosening as he neared his climax. His moans grew louder, more desperate, his hips rocking erratically as he chased his release.

But just as he was about to reach the peak, Y/n abruptly stopped, pulling her mouth away from his throbbing length. Oscar let out a strangled cry, his body writhing with frustration.

"No, please, don't stop," he begged, his voice hoarse and pleading. "It felt so good. Please, I need..."

Y/n placed a finger against his lips, silencing him. "Shh, it's okay," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Calm down. It'll feel even better later, I promise. Just trust me on this, okay?"

Oscar's breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with need. But as he looked into Y/n's eyes, he found himself nodding, his trust in her overriding his desperation.

Y/n smiled, pleased with Oscar's compliance. "Good boy," she purred, her eyes roaming hungrily over his nearly naked form. "Now, why don't you take off the rest of your clothes for me?"

Oscar nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he reached for the hem of his shirt. He pulled it over his head, tossing it aside carelessly before kicking off his jeans, which were still bunched around his ankles.

In his haste to obey Y/n's command, Oscar didn't even notice that she was undressing as well. His eyes were fixed on her face, his body trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

Y/n's fingers deftly traced the bottom of her shirt, her hips swaying seductively as she slipped it off her shoulders. Her bra followed soon after, revealing her pert breasts to Oscar's wide-eyed gaze. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, shimmying out of it before sliding her panties down her legs.

Oscar's face flushed a deep crimson as he took in the sight of Y/n's naked body. He wanted to speak, to express the multitude of emotions and desires coursing through him. But the words caught in his throat, his shyness overpowering his courage.

Y/n noticed his hesitation, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Do you need to say anything, Oscar?" she asked, her voice low and inviting. "Don't be shy. It's just the two of us here."

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I... I just..." he stammered, his eyes darting away from hers. "I've never seen a girl naked before. You're so beautiful."

Y/n's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with approval. "Thank you, Oscar," she purred, taking a step closer to him. "And you're pretty cute yourself."

She reached out, her fingers trailing down his chest, his abs, his hips. Oscar shivered under her touch, his body responding to her closeness despite his nervousness.

Y/n noticed Oscar's nervousness, the way his body trembled under her touch. She leaned in, capturing his lips in a soft, gentle kiss. "Hey," she whispered, her breath mingling with his. "Calm down for me, okay? You need to relax."

Oscar's eyes fluttered open, his gaze meeting hers. "S-sorry," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just a bit scared."

Y/n smiled, her fingers tracing the contours of his face. "It's okay to be scared," she murmured, her lips brushing against his forehead. "But I'm here with you. I won't let anything happen to you."

She kissed him again, her lips moving softly against his. Oscar melted into the kiss, his fears slowly dissipating as he lost himself in the sensation of her touch, her warmth, her presence.

Y/n noticed the worried expression on Oscar's face, his body tense and uncertain. She cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking his skin. "Hey," she whispered, her voice soft and reassuring. "I'm okay. Don't worry."

She leaned in, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. As she did, she rocked her hips, taking him deeper inside her. A gasp escaped her lips, her eyes widening as she felt him stretch her further.

"Fuck," she breathed, her voice strained with a mix of pleasure and discomfort. "You're huge."

Oscar's eyes widened, his body relaxing slightly at her words. He had never heard such a compliment before, and it sent a surge of confidence coursing through him.

Y/n smiled, her hips moving in small, circular motions. "See?" she purred, her lips curling into a seductive smirk. "I can handle you. Just relax and let me take care of you."

Oscar nodded, his body relaxing under Y/n's guidance. "Okay," he breathed, his voice trembling with anticipation.

As Y/n began to move, Oscar's eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth falling open in a silent cry of pleasure. "Oh god," he gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily as she rode him. "Oh fu- oh my god."

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "It's okay to swear. It's just between us."

Oscar's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "Fuck," he breathed, the word falling from his lips like a forbidden fruit. "Fuck, Y/n. You feel so good."

She smiled, her hips moving faster, harder. "That's it," she purred, her voice encouraging. "Let go. Say whatever you want. No one's here to judge us."

Y/n's eyes sparkled with mischief as she heard Oscar swear, his voice trembling with pleasure. "That's it," she purred, her hips moving faster, harder. "You sound so pretty when you swear."

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "God forbid my father ever finds out," she whispered, her voice low and conspiratorial. "But I'd gladly risk it if it meant I could hear this every night."

Oscar's eyes widened, his body tensing at the thought of being discovered. But the pleasure coursing through him was too intense to ignore, and he found himself pushing the thought aside, focusing instead on the feeling of Y/n's body moving against his.

Y/n threw her head back, a loud moan escaping her lips as Oscar hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. "Fuck, right there baby," she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders.

But as she felt him tense beneath her, his body shaking with a mix of pleasure and panic, she realized what was happening. "Stop, stop," he whimpered, his voice muffled against her neck. "I-I think I'm gonna pee."

Her eyes widened, but she quickly reassured him. "No, you're not," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. "That's just your body's way of telling you you're about to cum."

As if on cue, Oscar's body convulsed, his hips bucking as he released inside her. Y/n gasped, her own orgasm crashing over her as she felt him fill her with his seed.

They lay there for a moment, their breaths gradually slowing as they came down from their high. But as the post-orgasmic haze began to lift, reality started to set in.

Oscar buried his face in Y/n's neck, his voice muffled as he spoke. "That was so... oh my god..."

Y/n's arms tightened around him, her fingers running through his hair in a soothing gesture. "I know," she whispered, her voice soft and understanding. "It's a lot to take in."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his face. "Are you okay?" she asked, her brow furrowed with concern. "I mean, physically. Did I hurt you at all?"

Oscar shook his head, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "No," he mumbled, his eyes darting away from hers. "I'm fine. Just... overwhelmed."

Y/n smiled, her fingers tracing the contours of Oscar's face. "That's okay," she murmured, her voice soft and reassuring. "It's normal to feel overwhelmed after your first time. Just take a deep breath and try to relax."

But before Oscar could respond, a loud crack of thunder echoed outside, followed by the sound of heavy rain pelting against the window. Oscar's eyes widened, his body tensing at the sudden noise.

"What was that?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and confusion.

Y/n glanced towards the window, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's just rain," she explained, her fingers still tracing patterns on his skin. "A big storm must have rolled in while we were... distracted."

Oscar's eyes darted between Y/n and the window, his mind struggling to process the new sensory input. The sound of the rain, the flashes of lightning illuminating the room, the scent of petrichor wafting through the air - it was all too much for his overstimulated senses to handle.

She felt his body tense against hers as another clap of thunder boomed outside. She could sense his fear, his discomfort with the sudden storm. "Okay, lay down for me," she murmured, her voice soft and soothing. "You can use the pillows to cover your ears while I go downstairs, okay?"

He nodded, his face still buried in the crook of her neck. He slowly laid down on the bed, his hands clutching the pillows tightly to his ears.

Y/n smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "I'll call your mom on the landline and let her know you're staying over tonight," she explained, her fingers tracing the shell of his ear. "I can't let you walk home in this rain."

Oscar's eyes widened, a flicker of panic crossing his features. "But my mom..." he started, his voice muffled by the pillows.

"Shh, it's okay," Y/n reassured him, her lips brushing against his temple. "I'll explain everything. Just try to relax, okay?"

Y/n slipped out of the bedroom, pulling her clothes back on. As she made her way downstairs, she glanced back at Oscar, who was lying on the bed staring out the window. His ears were still covered with the pillow, and the bottom half of his body was now draped with the blanket.

She couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, his vulnerability and innocence shining through despite the intimate act they had just shared. She knew he was scared, overwhelmed by the storm and the new experiences of the day. But she also knew that he trusted her, that he felt safe with her.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation with Oscar's mother. She knew it wouldn't be easy, to explain why her son was spending the night during a thunderstorm. But she also knew that it was the right thing to do, to keep him safe and protected.

Y/n picked up the phone and dialed Oscar's mother's number, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she waited for the call to connect.

When Nicole answered, Y/n explained the situation, her voice trembling slightly. "Hi Nicole, it's Y/n. I'm so sorry to call you out of the blue like this, but... Oscar is here with me. We were practicing guitar when the storm hit, and it's just too dangerous for him to walk home right now."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and Y/n's heart sank. But then Nicole's voice came through, warm and understanding. "Oh honey, don't worry about it. I was actually just about to call you. I was going to ask if Oscar could stay the night, because I don't want him walking home in this weather either."

Y/n let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging as the tension drained from her body. "Thank you so much, Nicole," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "I really appreciate your understanding."

Y/n hung up the phone, a wave of relief washing over her. She had been so worried about how Nicole would react, but her understanding and support had put Y/n's mind at ease.

She made her way back upstairs, her footsteps soft on the carpeted steps. As she entered the bedroom, she found Oscar still lying on the bed, his ears covered with the pillow and his body tucked under the blanket.

"Everything's okay," she said softly, perching on the edge of the bed. "Your mom knows you're here, and she's happy for you to stay the night. She was actually just about to call and ask me the same thing."

Oscar's eyes widened, the pillow slipping slightly as he turned to look at her. "Really?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and relief.

Y/n nodded, smiling reassuringly. "Really. She understands about the storm, and she doesn't want you walking home in this weather either."

Y/n rummaged through her closet, pulling out an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. They were clearly her father's clothes, the shirt hanging loosely on her frame as she held them out to Oscar.

"Come on, sit up," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Let me help you get changed."

Oscar hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. But the thought of wearing his own wet, sticky clothes made him shudder, and he slowly sat up, the blanket falling away from his body.

Y/n helped him into the oversized shirt, the fabric swallowing his smaller frame. She then handed him the shorts, averting her eyes as he slipped them on.

"There," she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Comfy?"

Oscar nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at the oversized clothes. They were comfortable, and he felt a sense of safety and security wearing them.

But as he went to stand up, he suddenly pulled Y/n down with him, plopping back onto the bed. She let out a small "oof" of surprise, but didn't comment on it, realizing that he was just tired and seeking comfort.

Oscar wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he snuggled into the pillow. Y/n could feel his body relaxing against hers, his breathing slowing as he drifted off to sleep.

She smiled, her fingers gently stroking his hair as she watched him sleep. Despite the events of the day, the intimacy they had shared, she felt a sense of peace wash over her.

The following Sunday, Y/n and Oscar found themselves back at church, sitting in their usual pews. Y/n was scheduled to read a Bible verse about lust, a topic that had taken on a whole new meaning since their encounter last week.

As she stood up to approach the podium, Y/n couldn't help but steal a glance at Oscar. Her eyes met his, and she saw his cheeks flush a deep crimson, his gaze darting away from hers.

She suppressed a smile, remembering the intimate moments they had shared. The thought of the pastor's daughter and an altar server engaging in such activities would surely raise some eyebrows if anyone found out.

Y/n cleared her throat, the microphone crackling to life as she began to read the verse. "For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God..."

taglist:

@nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii

@livsturnioloo @callsignwidow @anamiad00msday @morgrinha @zestytimbit

@si1ver06 @lilorose25

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Exercise

Prompt: Aaron wants to get up early for a morning meeting before work but you have other plans.

The sound of the closet door closing woke you up and you turned in bed to see Aaron making an apologetic face while putting his shoe on. He was already halfway dressed for work but the clock read 5:20am.

"Rossi wanted to meet a little early to go over some stuff on our case," he explained, already knowing that you were going to ask why he was leaving you earlier than normal.

Immediately, you frowned, not getting your fill of his presence since only just seeing him late last night after you were already half asleep. It had been too late then to mess around but your plan had been to have quite the enjoyable morning and now Rossi was trying to ruin it.

"You're not leaving," you stated surely, making him smile a little.

"I have to honey. It'll be a quick meeting and then I'll be back before I have to leave for work, I promise."

As he looked down to put his other shoe on, you pulled the covers from your body and made your way over to the edge of the bed, getting up to stand in front of him. You still had on your usual nightgown but pushed the straps down from your shoulders and let it drop to the floor, leaving you completely bare and catching his attention.

Aaron stopped his actions to look, foot halfway in his shoe as his eyes raked you up and down, recognizing the look in your eyes.

"Sweetheart, I-

You cut him off with a kiss, arms throwing themselves around his neck and he couldn't help but respond, his hands finding your hips, pulling you in close. Your tongue danced with his as you pressed your core into him, earning a grunt and tightened grip. You pulled away from his lips just long enough to whisper in his ear.

"I want you Aaron Hotchner. Right now. Don't leave me."

He let out a breath, nuzzling your neck and making a move to remove the shoe he had put on on and step out of the other one before turning you to push you up against the wall.

"How can I refuse you when you're like this," he said, pulling his neatly tucked shirt out of his trousers and over his head, diving in for another deep kiss, hands placed on both cheeks. Your own hands busied themselves with removing his belt and undoing his pants just as his phone rang. He pulled away and you almost smacked the damn phone out of his hand as he answered it.

"Hey David."

Getting an idea, you acted on it, the raging desire of wanting Aaron to fuck you, fueling you. Dropping to your knees, you slid his pants and briefs down, swatting his hand away when he went to stop you.

"I-uh got up a little late-

You interrupted whatever he was planning on saying by taking all of him in your mouth, eagerly sliding his length in and out, not holding back. You looked up at him and saw that he had pulled the phone away so he could lean his head against the wall, holding back a groan. A second later, he cleared his throat and spoke to Rossi quickly.

"I won't be able to make it to the meeting, I'll see you later at the office."

Ending the call and throwing his phone carelessly onto the bed behind him, he moaned as you kept up your motion, one hand sliding through your hair to hold your head and the other bracing himself against the wall.

A few strokes later, you felt him tense up and pull himself out of your mouth, bringing you back up and turning you around to face the wall, pushing you to lean over just a little. You steadied yourself with your hands up against the wall and didn't even get a chance to take a breath before he filled you completely, making you cry out in pleasure.

You met him thrust for thrust, taking him as deep as you could, moaning his name over and over. He held you up, arm splayed across your body, hand moving over your breasts, tugging and pulling on your overly sensitive nipples.

"Fuck Aaron, I'm gonna come.."

Both of your breaths were ragged and his pace picked up in the slightest, telling you that he was close as well.

"I'm close too baby-

His hand moved from your nipples to slip between your slick folds, finding your clit and pressing down in circular movements, shooting a burst of pleasure through your body. Feeling you clench around him as you came, Aaron grunted and groaned, letting himself go inside of you, panting in your ear as he slowed his movements.

Your arms were on fire from their upright position on the wall as you breathed through the mind fog, your body tingling, barley feeling the small kisses Aaron gave you on your shoulder.

Once he pulled himself out, he stepped back, lying down on the bed, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Chuckling, you went into the bathroom to clean yourself up. He came in a little later, turning the shower on and waited patiently to join him before the two of you took turns washing each other, exchanging loving kisses all the while.

[shadowdaddies]

A Better Tomorrow

Best Friend Cassian x Reader / mated Azriel x Reader Hurt/Comfort

A/N: This is for anyone who is tired. Life is hard, but the world is better with you in it.

The loud echo of your boots against the hardwood echoed through the hallway, steps fast and harsh against the floors as though you could take your anger out against it. Face hot with waves of anger and shame, you heaved out a sigh, flexing and clenching your hands while you paced the room, seeking an outlet to calm the rage contained beneath your skin. 

As if they could sense you were about to break, a cool wisp of darkness brushed your hand, effectively extinguishing the wildfire burning within you. Feet stopped on instinct, your watery eyes falling closed as tension immediately left your body, the anger making way for a brief peace that quickly soured to melancholy.

“Love?” Azriel called out from the kitchen, your mate’s warm voice healing the hole in your chest as you padded towards his call. 

“Hey, Az,” you murmured, smiling in spite of yourself at the sight of bright hazel eyes. The scent of chilled mist and cedar permeated the air, a balm to your blazing emotions. A calloused hand brushed down your arm, just as softly and soothing as his shadows when Azriel pulled you to his side. 

Movement from the corner of your eye turned your head, Cassian’s hulking frame leaning casually over the counter as he cleaned the final scraps of food from his plate. “Hey sunshine,” he winked, pausing to take a long swig of his drink. “How’s Windhaven? Keeping those Illyrian louts in check for me?”

By the way Azriel’s shadows began to oscillate erratically, his grip on your waist tensing ever so slightly, you knew that you hadn’t hidden your reaction to Cassian’s question. 

“What happened?” Azriel asked in a lethal calm. The shame and anger from earlier rushed back to you, eddying in your mind like a whirlpool that threatened to pull you under. A cool shadow stroking your cheek pulled your attention back to your mate. Safety, love, protectiveness seemed to roll off of him, and you spared a glance to Cassian to find the same.

Allowing yourself to lean your weight on Azriel, you found the comfort and clarity you needed from his presence - and with that clarity, the awareness of Azriel’s own simmering anger just below his composed facade. 

“Azriel,” you whispered, hand reaching up to brush a lock of onyx hair behind his curved ear. “I think I need to talk to Cassian about this alone, if that is alright.” 

Warring emotions seemed to play out in Azriel’s eyes, the irises reflecting golden light as his gaze flicked between his mate and brother. “I will talk to you about it, but I need to speak with my General right now,” you promised, offering a small smile of encouragement.

The shadowsinger’s sharp stare softened at that, understanding falling like a blanket of comfort over the two of you. Azriel recognized your need to separate your work from home life - it was a value which you both shared, and worked on balancing together. Pressing a kiss to your hair - and flashing a warning glare at Cassian that sent a shiver down your spine - Azriel went outside, leaving you alone with Cass.

Without Azriel’s presence by your side, the weight of the day seemed to fall all at once, Cassian’s expression turning from that of a concerned General to a worried friend instantly. His eyes tracked how your weight shifted awkwardly, hands twisting with each other. 

“C’mere sunshine,” he murmured, pulling out the chair next to where he sat. You took the chair, elbows instantly landing on the table and hands tangling in your hair. 

“I don’t think I can do this, Cass,” you admitted, hiding your watery eyes by studying the woodgrain of the table. “Windhaven. As a female. I’m just not strong enough.” You could feel Cassian’s intake of air, so you spoke before he could interject his platitudes and hollow encouragements. 

“It’s so hard - and I knew it would be - but day after day, nothing changes. Some of these males get worse with how they treat me, how they even treat each other. And I know I should ‘not let it bother me.’ I know that ‘it’s a reflection of their character and not mine.’ I know that ‘I am the bigger person.’ But gods dammit, I am so tired.”

You dared a peek at Cassian, expecting something of pity or even judgment, but he sat back in his chair with eyes that matched your own, sparkling with the same barely-held tears which held memories, understanding. He nodded silently, both an encouragement and an affirmation.

Loosing another sigh, you ran one hand through your hair as the other picked nervously at the textured table. “I tried to fight back today. To take a stand.” Palms smacked the table, the sting left on your hands nothing compared to the sting of today’s memory. 

“Fucking Devlon,” you continued. “He brought a group of male soldiers to where we were training the new Valkyries. The way they taunted those young girls, the disgusting comments... And one of them-” Your eyes shuttered at the sound of his voice replaying in your mind. “I won’t repeat what he said to Gwyn, but it sent me over the edge, Cassian. I couldn’t let those females be treated like that.

“So I challenged the asshole to a fight, with a ‘cycle-tainted sword,’” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the words. 

“And he accepted,” Cassian added, not a question, but a reminder. 

With a stiff nod, you watched his reaction carefully as you continued the story. “I pinned him, easily-“ You felt relief as Cassian sipped his drink, shrugging in a silent of course. “But I didn’t stop there. He continued to spew his shit even from the ground, and I saw the faces of those other males. They hadn’t changed. I hadn’t proved anything to them.

“So I took my blade, and I cut his wing.” You couldn’t help the tear that spilled down your cheek then, the salty droplet cool against your reddened cheek. “Not enough to hurt him, but enough to leave a scar. To leave a reminder of what we could do.”

Cassian’s lips spread into a smirk, eyes twinkling with the feral delight of a true warrior, but he remained silent. 

“It feels wrong, Cassian. I don’t know what to do - how to stand up for myself, for others. Those males will never change, and I fear I’m only becoming as terrible as them. But I can’t bear to see that evil. I just can’t do it anymore... I am not strong enough for Illyria.”

Your bottom lip quivered, the heartbreak of the situation weighing you down, curving your shoulders in as you wrapped your arms around yourself. 

Cassian watched you for a long moment, pushing his plate to the side before leaning closer, ruby red siphons pulsing light against the table where he now rested them. 

“I don’t know whether your actions against that male were the right thing to do. I do know that he deserved it - and much more - but if it weighs on your conscience, it may not be what is best for you. And that is what I care about. I don’t give a fuck about what happens to some Illyrian prick who went out of his way to hurt you all. He incited a reaction, and reaped the consequences. 

“You are right,” Cassian continued, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze. “It is so hard, to see the hatred and evil day after day - not only from our enemies, but those within our own community. And those males will probably never change. But so much has changed, and will. The Valkyries are already bringing change in more ways than I think you realize.”

Cassian swallowed thickly, his eyes shining with a brighter kind of emotion. “Remember when I met you and Nesta in town after training at Windhaven last week?” You nodded,  curious as to where he was going with this. 

“I saw the two of you walking towards me, armed in your uniforms with heads held high. These little girls,” he breathed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “They were watching you from the window. Two little Illyrian girls with a look that I had never seen them have in that town. It was more than admiration, it was hope.”

Hazel eyes bore into you with a captivating earnestness. “You give them hope. Something I am ashamed to say I hadn’t noticed was missing until The Valkyries brought it to them. Those males may not change, but you are helping to build a world for those little girls to be the change. 

We can’t change Illyria overnight. But it needs you, because you are making the world a better place for those children - a world with hope, where they can be themselves without fear, because they look at you and know it is possible.”

A sob broke from your lips, relief washing over you like a cool wave at the realization. You would make mistakes, consequences would have actions, people would do wrong by you and others. But as small as your work may feel, you are building a better world for tomorrow.

A shadow wound through your tousled hair, wiping at the salty tears that streaked down your cheeks. Cassian chuckled at the motion, standing from his seat with a grunt. “I think Azriel might be getting impatient out there,” he nodded towards the door. “Go have a good night with your mate.”

You stood, nodding with a sniffle as you wrapped your arms around your friend, his own returning the action with his usual tight squeeze. “Thank you, Cassian. You are a very good friend, and General.”

“I know,” he smirked when you pulled away, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “I’m feeling inspired to go find my Nesta, and remind her just how much better the world is with her.” With a suggestive smirk, he winked and set off towards the library, leaving you laughing softly at his shameless behavior.

You opened the door to the outside where Azriel stood looking out at the sunset, his stillness making him look like a statue until he turned to face you, and you inhaled sharply at the beauty of your mate, a living work of art. 

“Are you alright?” he questioned, failing to hide his concern at the still-drying tears on your face. Pushing up on your toes, you pulled him in for a kiss. 

“Better than ever,” you murmured against his lips, tugging his soft lower lip between your teeth before pulling away to take his hands in yours. “I’ll tell you everything over dinner. I’m ready to enjoy my night with the one I love.”

That earned a cheeky grin from Azriel, the male effortlessly sweeping you into his arms before setting off to fly across the multi-colored hues of the evening sky, where you clung to the comfort of him.

[surielstea]

Plaguing Dreams

Based on this request!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader (mates)

Summary: After a particularly jarring dream, Reader is unsure how to separate it from reality.

Warnings: Mentions of adultery | happy ending | crack fic | mostly fluff | slight hurt/comfort

1.5k words

"Please, baby it's not what it looks like!" My mate scrambled from our bedroom, the one I had entered only to find some foreign whore who I hadn't recognized in my bed, with my husband.

I didn't quite know how to process it. I slammed the door shut in his face, my breath stolen from me at the sight.

The door swung open, revealing Azriel, this time with a shirt on.

"Baby, cmon," He reaches his hands out towards me with bunched brows. But once the shock subsided, anger took over.

"Don't, baby me. Are you fucking serious?" I looked at him with wild amusement in my eyes, my breath shaky as I attempted to calm it.

But deep down I didn't want to be calm, I wanted to rage and scream at him until my anger echoed like an incessant, permanent ringing in his ears.

"I swear to you, it's not what it looked like," He lowered his voice, his hands coming towards me like I was some rabid animal on the side of the road in need of taming.

"Swear to me? Like you swore an oath on our wedding day?" I ask, entirely consumed by my fury that was only multiplying the more and more he silently stared at him.

"For The Mother's sake Azriel, not what it looks like? You and another woman were naked in our bed. Ours." I gesture between us to stress my point.

"We can figure this out," His hand found purchase at my arm. My brows knotted as I looked down at the touch. Something was off. I couldn't put my finger on it, I just, sensed it.

"What is there to figure out? We're fucking done." I spit at him.

"C'mon baby don't be like that," He sighed as if this was boring him, like I was a chore for him to be dealt with.

"Do you hear yourself? You sound fucking insane," I grit out, pulling at my arm but his grip is iron. "Let me go."

"Once you calm down, I will." He said coolly and my rage doubled over. Calm down?

I looked down at his hold on me, the area around his grip now reddening. That's when I realized, he bore no scars, the ones his wretched half-brothers gave him were simply gone.

I look at him confused, blinking at him in pure bewilderment. Was the rage getting to my brain? Hadn't his hands been scarred? "Hey look at me," He demanded and despite myself I did as he said, meeting his grey eyes. Wait— no hadn't they been hazel? I shook my head, unsure who this was that stood in front of me but it certainly wasn't my mate. "Us Illyrians can't stay with the same girl for long, but you knew that from the beginning didn't you lovely?" He cupped my cheek with his free hand, the feel of his hands without scars sent a shiver down my spine. It made my skin crawl and my heart ache. "You knew I'd tire of you eventually, isn't that right?" He beamed, spinning on his heel back to our bedroom door that was left ajar, the nude female still lounging in our bed.

His lack of wings sent a wave of unfamiliarity through me and suddenly this stranger didn't look anything like the male I knew, not one bit. From the way he moved to his all-too-smooth voice.

"Go on and get out of here, you bore me."

I gasped, sitting upright in my bed. It had all been a dream. A stupid, unrealistic dream. I blinked, rubbing at my eyes and erasing the feel of sleep from them. Blindly I reached towards Azriel's side of the bed only to find it empty. My anxiety spiked but it quickly decreased when I noticed his pillow was still warm.

I release a soft sigh as I clamber from our mattress, running my hands through my hair once or twice as I make my way out of our bedroom.

The nightmare was burnt into the back of my head, a searing tattoo that was growing infectious. I groaned, rubbing my head in agony as a migraine seeped through the cracks of my skull.

I stumble into the dining room, in search of a glass of water only to find my mate leaning over the stove, making breakfast.

Shadows curl around my ankles and he turns to look at me.

I decided I no longer was thirsty. "Good morning," He smiled softly but I only spun on my heel and trudged into the sitting room. I could still feel his eyes on me. "Did you sleep well?" He asks, stepping slightly out of the kitchen to watch me slump onto the couch, shrugging in reply to his question.

His brows crease but he nods and returns to the kitchen.

I folded my knees up to my chest, winding my arms around them tightly as I thought about that dream. He was hard to look at the same, I know I was being irrational, who he is in my dream has nothing to do with reality, but my mother was a seer, maybe the ability to see visions was passed down to me.

Azriel peeked his head out of the kitchen to look at me. "Breakfast is ready," He informed and I slowly nodded, my mind elsewhere.

He frowned, leaving the kitchen and approaching me. "Is everything alright?" He tilts his head, squatting down in front of me and taking my hands in his, the familiar feel of his scars makes me remember how foreign it felt in my dream. I knew it wasn't him, and practically I should just let this go. But I can't get the image out of my head.

"Where were you last night?" I manage to get out, squeezing his hands, memorizing those scars that I’ve never been so grateful for.

"I was at Rita's, with you and Cass," He said with a concerned expression. "Are you feeling okay baby?" He brings the back of his hand to my forehead.

I veer away from his touch and stand, moving past him, striding towards the kitchen. "I feel fine," I murmur while grabbing a plate from the cupboards.

"My love," Azriel sighs, shadows slinking up my calves as he wraps his arms around my torso, pulling me into his chest. I lean into the warmth as his lips come down to the junction between my shoulder and neck.

"I'm begging you, tell me what's wrong," He said into my skin. It wasn't fair of me to do this to him. "Let me make it up to you, whatever I did let me fix it," He pleads and I shake my head.

"You didn't do, anything," I sigh while building a plate of homemade food, by the Gods he had been kind enough to make me breakfast. "I just had a stupid dream, that's all." I pat his hand that was splayed on my abdomen, silently dismissing him.

He only clung to me tighter. "Don't do that," He lifts from my neck. "Don't ignore your feelings for my benefit, tell me what's on your mind," He said, his voice calm as his arms loosened, allowing me to turn around to face him.

I look up at him, into his hazel eyes that I often found myself drowning in. Who he was in my dream is not who stood in front of me now. I take one long breath before muttering, "You cheated on me."

His brows lift, his lip curling as if even the idea was preposterous.

"In my dream, I caught you with some other girl— it's kind of a blur but, it just, affected me," I shrug, brushing it off, and his scowl deepens.

"You know I would never even think about doing anything close to that—" He begins to wind himself up and my shoulders relax, smiling slightly as he looks just as disgusted as I must've in my dream.

"Az," I cup his jaw, my thumbs rubbing along his sharp cheekbones. "I know, I know you," I smile. "It shouldn't have gotten to me," I shake my head.

He intertwined our hands and brought them to his lips, softly kissing each of my knuckles in order to shut himself up.

"If I could, I'd kill whoever that guy was in your dreams," He hummed, and an amused smile spread across my lips.

"He didn't have your eyes," I shake my head, inching closer to his lips. "Didn't have your scars." I sling my arms around his shoulders. "Not even your wings," I purred, running a nail down the membrane of his impressively large black wings.

He looks at me with a raised brow, his eyes gleaming with something more primal.

Suddenly he hoists me up into his arms, taking me out of the kitchen and carrying me down the hall. I giggle, halting my teasing on his wing.

"Breakfast will get cold," I protest and he only shakes his head.

"Let it, I need to show you that you're the only girl I will ever want," He stated and my grin widened, as I kissed up his neck softly.

"Sounds good to me," I murmur as he lays me down on the mattress.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @hufflepuff-pa55 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy @username199945 @ivy-34 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @aurorab99 @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @mmg777 @andreperez11 @thatacotargirl @123345566 @one-big-fangirl @moonslitluna @imyherondale @salvawhxres @bookishbabyyyy @anuttellaa @breadsticks2004 @azriels-human @mamita-vera @demetercabingreen-thumb

[entirelysein-e]

『 Their hand slips 』

☼ synopsis: Their hand (almost) slips and puts a strain on your relationship

☼ characters: Toji, Yuuta, Inumaki

☼ wc: 4.3k

☼ cw: dark content! fem!reader, Toji being a good husband and almost snapping, getting pushed by Rika and slapped (accidentally during a playfight with Inumaki), Toge using his technique on you, overall sogginess, hurt to comfort

☼ notes: I am by no means glorifying domestic violence - this fic is not about this topic. If you or a loved one experience abuse in a relationship please reach out to the police or a qualified counselor / hotline for help!

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Toji:

Being with Toji has always been a rollercoaster of emotions but you never doubted his love for you, despite him being rough around the edges. Yes, he might disappear for days, sometimes weeks after a fight but he never once lifted his hand or indicated that he would physically hurt you. If the fight was over something dumb you would usually end up in the bedroom to get his anger out in a fun way while making up again.

You don't even know what started the fight today, was it the dishes he didn't do? Perhaps he left the laundry in the laundry machine? All you know is that you've been screaming at each other for well over an hour, your throat already sore but you wouldn't stop now. Toji was just beyond annoyed at your little tantrum, at least that's what it was to him. “I said I'll take care of it, didn't I? The day isn't over yet” he tried the calm way at first, his jaw clenching in frustration when you screamed back how tired you are from work.

Things carried on like this for a while, Toji losing his cool after you screamed at him right away and he started to scream back until you were only throwing around profanities. At least until you said something you shouldn't have “No wonder your last two wives left you, you live like a damn pig”. It wasn't too bad but it was a sore topic for him and his hand raised… simply staying up in the air without ever connecting to your face but it was enough for you to flinch away. Toji's jaw tensed up further, his teeth almost cracking from the pure pressure when he realized what he almost did - crossing a boundary that should never be crossed and you looked at him like he's a monster now. Perhaps he was and you were right, make it three wives, it's deserved now that his hand almost struck you.

Ever so slowly he brought his hand down from its spot up in the air, trying not to startle you further when he reached to cup your cheek, the anger in his eyes turning to desperation. Out of reflex you flinched from his touch, your body still in flight mode from almost getting struck by him and Toji recoiled his hand quickly while nodding to himself. The anger flamed up behind his eyes once again upon realizing just how bad he had fucked up. Anger rose up and he couldn't contain himself any longer “FUCK” he roared, making you stumble backwards just to get away from him before he punched a hole into the wall. You barely recognized the man in front of you since he'd never been this violent around you or directed at you. The thought of drawing a single breath of air scared you with him raging around and you simply held your breath, your entire body shaking like a leaf in a heavy storm, but before you found your voice again he stormed out of your shared home, grabbing his coat on the way out of the front door.

Relief was the first thing flooding your mind when you finally felt like you could exhale once again, the air less tense with him out of the room and upon looking around your usually tidy kitchen, you saw the battlefield he'd left behind. The hole in the wall gaping and your favorite candle holder, the one he gifted you simply because you thought the cat warming its paws looked so cute, now on the floor and shattered into hundreds of small pieces. You didn't care much for the cushions laying around or the chairs scattered across the room but you cradled the severed porcelain head of the small cat to your chest as you fell to your knees when the first wave of shock wore off. Toji had left. He's gone now and given how both of you crossed boundaries and he almost hit you, didn't give you much hope for his return. A bitter laugh crossed your sobs when you thought of the small candle holder scattered and how it represented your broken relationship.

After what felt like an eternity on the floor you had the courage to get up once again, slowly putting things back to where they used to stand before picking up each and every piece of Tojis present. You needed to get your mind off of his departure, he sure would return - latest when he had to get his things- you told yourself, trying to calm the mess that was your head. Dedicated you brought he pieces to the living room where his show was running as always, your favorite background noise in your daily life and piece by piece you glued the little candle holder back together until it looked somewhat what it used to and it gave you hope - perhaps you could do the same to your relationship?

Once the distraction wore off you found yourself sitting on the unusually empty couch, sitting on his favorite spot and the silence was deafening, the show stopped playing a while ago, Netflix asking you if you're still watching and the tears started to form in your eyes once again. Perhaps he will be back soon? Your hope wore thinner with every hour that has passed, only hoping that he will come back eventually one day at this point. Sure, you've had worse fights with him but it never got physical, this one felt much more charged and intense than all the others before so perhaps he's sick of the constant fighting, sick of you…

Slowly you sunk your face into the pillow on the couch and brought your knees to your chest as you wept, his show now playing once again to bring you at least a little comfort as you drifted off into a restless slumber, the moment where he almost struck you replaying in your head over and over again.

Toji wandered around the Block at first, contemplating to get drunk out o his mind and simply disappearing out of your life forever since he has nothing to offer to you but his heart and body, but now he wasn't sure if that was enough - if he was enough and he hated these thoughts. He could have any woman he wanted so why is he so damn attached to you? Answers didn't come by as he sat down in the park and gulped down a cheap beer but the longer he sat there the more reasons he found just why he was with you and how you made him feel things no one managed to ignite in so long. It was clear to him that he would need to go back, that he would need to fix things with you, for his own sake because he'd be lost without you once again.

By the time Toji got up from the old bench at the park it was almost morning already, the bird chirping softly in the trees and he took a deep breath in, preparing himself to lose you once and for all since he couldn't force you to forgive him after ever but he would promise to be better, he vowed to be a good partner and later on to be a good husband to you and not once did he make you regret trusting him since he was always nothing but good to you. His posture was slightly slouched when he entered the apartment, ready to find the mess he left behind in the kitchen but it looked as if nothing ever happened here - aside from the hole in the wall that felt like a plow to his guts. That could have been your face, realization setting in once again over what happened and how badly he damaged the trust in this relationship with his cowardly reaction.

Shaking his head at his thought he made his way back to the front door, only to be met by your weak voice somewhere behind him. “Toji?” was all you asked, your voice sounding tired and so fragile from hours of crying and he flinched, dreading your next words. “Don't leave… please,” You continue and sit up now to look at him. “I'm just here to get my thi- you want me to stay?” He sounded rather surprised that you didn't send him out, cussing him and his entire bloodline out as he got his things. Toji was so prepared for rejection he didn't even consider you would want him to stay, but you did, so he dragged himself over to the couch where you sat, waiting to face him. Your bloodshot eyes shocked him, have you been crying all night over him? Over the situation or perhaps the divorce you'd surely want?

“I'm sorry,” was all that he croaked out, his ego crushed and the confidence that usually radiated off of him was entirely gone, he was nothing but a miserable pile in front of you in this moment. It took you a minute or two to fully register his words - his apology and you simply nodded, knowing he wasn't great with words and especially apologies. Silence fell upon both of you once again, unsure how to go on from here, both of you uncomfortable with the situation. You were the first to find your words again, having spent the night thinking about what you wanted and ultimately what you will say to him but right now this was all thrown out of the window when you looked at him and reached out for his hands, trying to show that you're no longer scared.

“Listen to me. If you ever raise a hand to me again, Toji Fushiguru, I will cut out your heart and eat it for breakfast, do you understand me?” You asked with a much more secure voice and it almost scared him because he knew you took that threat seriously, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips now. “That's my wife,” he chuckled a little, wondering if he extinguished your flame with fear but you weren't one to crumble, not from him or his foolish actions.

Unasked Toji whisked you up into his strong arms and carried you to the bedroom, refusing to let go of you for even a second as he smothered you between his arms and chest. Things weren't okay and they won't be for a while but at least you knew that he was willing to work on himself and you were willing to stay, so things could be alright again one day.

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Yuuta:

You were always Yuuta's first priority and he never failed to make it clear that you knew that there's no one and nothing that's more important to him than you. Yet he had to save the world as usually, exorcizing a curse here, helping out there and more often than not you found yourself alone in your shared home, talks limited to texts and phone calls. He tried his hardest to make sure you're always on his mind even if he's not physically with you, especially then but you slowly felt like this wasn't the case. It felt like he was running away from home, from you to be alone, to be with Rika rather than you for the old days sake.

This gut wrenching thought became especially painful when you ran into him in the grocery store when he claimed to be on the other side of the world and not in fact in the same grocery store or even the same city. You didn't want to cause a scene, not there out of all places so you abandoned your shopping cart and walked out, ignoring the hurt puppy look from your boyfriend. Dropping the chocolates he held previously he charged after you “Wait, please. Let me explain!” he called after you and caught up with your rather fast pace but you didn't pay any attention to him, fearing the worst.

And sometimes your own mind can be the worst enemy as you now convinced yourself that Yuuta was leading some sort of double life, a secret life hidden away from you and you didn't want to see his face for a second longer. When the young man held onto your wrist to get you to stop running from him it felt as if your skin was burning, quickly tugging your hand out of his grasp and glaring at him. “Stop causing a damn scene, Okkotsu” you hissed under your breath and Yuuta knew he was in trouble by the way you only used his last name, so much venom behind your words. All he wanted to do was surprise you with your favorite flowers and some sweets since he was home almost an entire week earlier and he didn't understand the tantrum you were throwing at that moment. Yes, he did lie to you and told you he won't be home for at least another 5 days but he was already on his way back to you, his home. Was he wrong that he wanted to surprise you just to have you jump into his arms five days earlier than initially planned?

The walk home was awkward and silent, the air around you two charged with strong emotions and unspoken words - words none of you dared to speak until the front door to your apartment was closed and you whipped around, facing him with an expression full of anger and hurt. “Why did you lie to me? Am I not good enough for you anymore?” You immediately asked, letting your inner fear take over instead of trying to think rationally but Yuuta immediately shook his head. “It's not like that, I promise!” His voice was rather submissive, hating to have fights with you, especially out of the dumbest reasons but you couldn't contain your anger, your presence alone making him take a step back. He knew you would never lay a hand on him but the air around you was so thick he feared to suffocate if he couldn't keep some distance. “Don't come at me with that bullshit, Yuuta. You promised not to lie to me and here you are… avoiding me despite being back. Do you have someone else? Do you miss Rika so much you can't bear to be with me?” You questioned, taking steps towards your boyfriend despite his silent plea to keep distance. It's unfair of you to bring Rika up in this situation, both of you knew this but you didn't care. The way he was always talking about her started to gnaw at your heart, slowly building a deep insecurity that you're just someone he settled for because he couldn't have the one he wanted. Perhaps he found a better replacement? That was your initial thought when you saw him smiling to himself at the grocery store. Little do you know he was thinking about your gleeful smile when he came home early.

Yuuta barely opened his mouth after what felt like an eternity of silence when he reached for your hands, hoping you let him explain, hoping you calm down enough to start thinking rationally. “Please, just listen, okay?” He started, his voice small since he didn't want things to escalate, fearing to lose you as much as you feared the same. You were his anchor, his safety vest out in the ocean that kept him afloat when everything was against him. He made the mistake of touching you, trying to get closer to you when you were so charged and it made you feel crowded, pushing him off of you so he let go of your wrists. He would have let go if only you asked, showing him he made you uncomfortable but before he could stop it, it was already too late.

Rika pushed you away from him, much harsher than he would have ever allowed and he recoiled, backing away from your curled up body after you were sent flying against the wall, several feet behind you.

The sight of your body on the floor and the little noise you let out upon the collision shattered his heart. Sure, Rika just wanted to protect him from harm but you would have never seriously hurt him and he was in shambles, trying to figure out what to do now that one of his biggest fears became reality. It took you a few seconds to realize what had just happened, just sitting up and blinking at Yuuta who looked paler than usual, his body frozen to the spot as he watched you with wide eyes. The way you looked around made him aware of how dizzy you must feel since your head hit the wall - at least there was no blood on your hands when you checked the back of your head reluctantly.

“Yuuta?” You asked him as you teared up, knowing that it was just an accident. The young man snapped out of his trance-like state upon hearing your voice, softly asking him for comfort but he couldn't give that to you, not if he was the one who hurt you in the first place.

His head snapped around, looking for a way out of there, perhaps he could jump out of the window or would it be too high? The sound of his heartbeat picking up was deafening, the only thing he heard in that moment and it only fueled the anxiety further. But it was your utterly desperate voice calling out to him once again that snapped him out of his fight or flight reaction, panicked eyes finally looking at your teary ones and his body reacted on its own. Without a further moment passing he dropped to his knees beside you and cradled your body in his arms, holding you close. You knew he didn't hurt you and it was just a reaction of Rika so you weren't angry, but your body still hurt as you wept into his embrace, body trembling with each sob that wrecked through it. “I'm so sorry my love” kept falling off his lips like a whispered mantra as he gently rocked you back and forth in his arms in hopes that it's enough to calm both of you down - even if it's just a little bit.

Hours later and neither of you had moved. You were still cradled in Yuuta's lap, arms wrapped securely around you and he still looked at you as if he just broke the most valuable thing he ever owned. “I’m sorry that I made you angry,” you eventually broke the silence that just felt heavy to you but he quickly shook his head “don't… it's not your fault I lost control,” he began and kissed your temple, his lips resting against your delicate skin for a moment before you felt them move as he continued to speak. “I should have told you I'm home earlier, the flowers would have been a surprise regardless, I'm sorry I made you doubt my love for you.” He whispered against your temple, earnest regret in his voice. Yuuta knew he was gone too much lately and if the roles were reversed he would have had doubts as well so he couldn't blame you.

Unsure how to answer, you nod softly and your hands clutch onto him just a little tighter. “We will make things better,” you eventually mumble, reassuring the both of you that despite what has happened, things will be okay again and you can work past this accident.

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Inumaki:

You never felt scared or threatened by Inumaki, he was always more than sweet to you and despite his cursed speech you never feared anything. He fell in love with you the day he found out you learned sign language for him and hasn't left your side ever since. You two were inseparable to the point of his friends automatically speaking of the both of you instead of just an individual and it was you who understood his few words better than anyone.

Laughter echoed through his small apartment when he pinned you to the bed with just one hand, the other traveling down to your sides to tickle you. Your laughter was one of his favorite noises, your smile his favorite sight and he wished he could tell you, scream out how much he loves you but he would never dare to say such things out loud, scared it manipulates you somehow and you're with him against your will. That was his worst nightmare, one that often haunted him at night and he woke up distressed while frantically searching for his phone. It's the same over and over again “You're with me because it's what you want, right?” He texts and awaits your answer as he picks the skin on his fingers anxiously. “I’m with you because my heart chose you” you tell him every time before his phone even unlocks - already knowing what plagues his handsome head.

Your sweet giggle brought him back to the little play fight you two just had and the way you were trying so hard to overpower him despite knowing you would never succeed. This thought never scared you, since you knew he would never use it against you or hold you down when you wouldn't want it. It was all just playful banter until he wanted to catch your wrist after you freed it but miscalculated, sending his hand right against your cheek with such strength the slap echoed off the walls followed by your whimper. You didn't need to push him off of your body, Inumaki got up right away, the tears that started to form in your eyes causing him to panic slowly. He frantically tried to sign “I'm sorry it was an accident” over and over but it felt like his hands knotted up by the speed and you didn't look at him, turning away as the tears started rolling down your cheeks. You weren't mad at him, knowing it was an accident but it still hurt you - the tears only a reaction of your body to the stinging pain that traveled through your face.

But the way you refused to even look towards him frustrated the young man and despite his efforts to get your attention you simply rose from the corner of the bed and left the room. Of course he was chasing after you, tapping you, holding your wrist, whining… he tried so hard to get just a sliver of your attention when you clearly didn't want to give that to him right now and he felt wrongfully punished. “Stop crying and come here” these words slipped past his lips with such desperation, he couldn't even stop himself before saying them out loud and his hands slapped over his mouth the second he realized what he'd done.

No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself, your body acted on its own accord as the tears dried and your feet walked over to him. Your face was one of utter shock and betrayal that he would do this to you, accident or not.

Inumaki pulled your body close and held you in a tight embrace despite every fiber in his body screaming not to do it, it felt so wrong to him but he needed you to forgive him, for accidentally hurting you, for putting you through manipulation. When he pulled back he was met with your face full of hurt and anger, which he deserved. “Please hit me back. We can be even” he signed once, twice… but you looked away, pinching the bridge of your nose as you took a step back to put some space between the white haired man and yourself. You wanted to scream, to explode at him but you collected yourself and looked at him with a cold expression. “Can you just stop?! I don't care that you hit me,” you started but lost your cool quickly and it came out more snappy than intended “we were play fighting, it happens. But you can't just crowd me and demand me to do things… and you surely can't fucking manipulate me!” Your voice rose in volume at the last part since this hurt you more than the accidental hit to your face.

Inumaki looked at you like a kicked puppy, eyes big and his face sinking into the collar of his sweater further so he can hide. He was beyond ashamed for his actions and didn't want to speak, the desperation clouding his mind and forgetting for just a split second that his words have immediate consequences and despite his best effort of not speaking, he can mess up.

With trembling hands he started signing apologies, begging for your forgiveness over and over until his shoulders started trembling and in a last effort he signed words unclear but you knew what he meant “please hold me” You whispered as he signed it and sighed. Realizing that he's more affected by this than you were and that he really had no malicious intentions you pulled your lover close, comforting him and yourself as his arms wrapped around you tightly, hands clutching to the fabric of your shirt. “Love” he mumbled out aloud, knowing this one word won't make you do anything but it was the first time you heard him say that he loves you out aloud. “I love you too” you whispered back, cheek still aching from the way his hand slipped but right now your heart needed healing from the betrayal of getting manipulated. Both, you and Toge were sure that this was a cut in your relationship but the bond you shared will act as a bandaid and you will be okay again, especially since he will be more careful now.

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[sundaycentric]

⌢  ⌢ yandere choso x gn reader

␥ content — yandere, sfw, headcanons, stalking, choso is weird idk, dependency?, mentions of babytrapping, mahito jumps u btw, mahito warning, general obsessive and possessive behavior, possibly ooc?? idk i wrote this for my own pleasure ... 1.3k words

— Choso has only cared about 3 people in his life. His late brothers, and his alive half-one. Not even his "colleagues" that he has to work closely with on their schemes. Outside of his family, nobody else mattered. At least, that's how it was. Choso doesn't consider you family, so why is it that he seems to care so much about you? It angers him. Has he lost loyalty to his brothers?

Choso tended to avoid you at first, paying you no mind like the rest that surrounded him. The most attention he'd allow himself to give you is subtle glances or the occasional hand when you needed help. Nothing more, as you were nothing to him. Except you were.

Choso realized his feelings, despite not being able to tell exactly what they were, pretty quickly. The weird beating of his heart when you were around, how his hands got shaky, and how he could feel the sweat trickle down his neck as he spoke to you, nervous that you wouldn't approve of him somehow. He became a bit more conscious around you. He wanted you to like him.

Choso thought these weird, firstly platonic feelings towards you were because you were family. Perhaps Itadori wasn't his only half-sibling. However, thinking about it like that made Choso feel awfully weird. You weren't his family, as it made his stomach churn to think of you as such. So, what were you then?

.

.

.

— Choso didn't care what happened to the people of Shibuya during that incident. When planning it out with the other curses, he felt no sympathy or worry for the people who would be present. Yet, upon hearing that you could possibly be in Shibuya on the day on the attack, Choso almost completely forgot about everything else.

Choso had separated from the others to look for Itadori, to try and get his revenge. While walking around Shibuya, he passed many of the trapped people within the veil. They spoke in hushed, worried whispers which Choso paid no attention to. Their conversations did not matter to him, who was focused on something else already.

Choso then heard your name fall from someone's lips. The voice sounded familiar. He turned around to verify, and it was one of your friends. Choso had taken a liking to 'watching' you as you went about your day, so it was no trouble recognizing this person you frequently saw and spoke with. Suddenly, he started paying a bit more attention to the conversation.

Choso listened as the person spoke. He knew he was wasting his time he could be using to search for Itadori, but he couldn't bring himself to move. From what he heard, you might be in Shibuya right now, specifically in a location near the veil. Without a second thought, Choso set off in another direction.

— Choso felt pure rage like this only once before in his life: when he found out that his brothers were dead. He had made it to the edge of the veil to see Mahito toying with you. It made Choso sick to even see you crying for a split second. Without thinking, he stepped in and used his curse technique to force Mahito to step back.

Choso looked furious. His eyes furrowed, brows pulled down in a sharp V. His fists shakily clenched onto your clothes, pulling you up into his grasp. All the while, his shrunken pupils glared at the curse in front of him. A few drops of blood fell onto you from the mark on his nose. Choso made no effort to clean it.

Choso frowned even deeper as Mahito laughed, questioning his behavior. He gritted his teeth together, the grinding sound rough. He wasted no time in telling Mahito off, claiming that you were his and that Mahito needed to go somewhere else. Mahito only looked confused since Choso seemed so occupied with you, what about hunting Itadori down?

Choso breathed a deep sigh of relief as Mahito left, deciding that this wasn't worth his time. After all, he needed to find his natural enemy before Jogo did. Choso watched as Mahito skipped away before looking back at you. How shaken you were, some stray tears still dripping down your cheeks. You looked so fragile, like a doll. Choso, after seeing you almost get into serious trouble, decided then that you were too weak to be out on your own. He'd protect you now, and he wouldn't fail loosing you as well.

— Choso lovingly ran his hands through your hair, the fingers playing with your locks. He had you resting in his lap, consoling you and making sure to wipe every tear that formed at your waterline. He might not know exactly what he feels, but he knows that protecting you is just as important as protecting his brothers.

Choso wouldn't allow you out of his grasp, let alone his sight. However, you are a bit confused because this man is a stranger, but he did save your life. You could tell he was strong, so it was best to stay with him. He tried to be soothing and gentle as well, but it was a bit difficult for him: Choso knew humans were more fragile than curses, and he didn't want to get too happy to finally be in contact with you.

Choso noticed that you began to calm down as he petted your hair, but you were still shaken. He couldn't blame you: Mahito was terrifyingly sadistic. However, he was glad he was able to intervene before things spiraled. He gently pushed your head against his chest, cradling you as he would do to a young child.

Choso began to speak, trying to calm your nerves even more. He apologized for Mahito, reassured you were safe, and even made some subtle comments about some things you liked. You didn't pay much attention to the fact that he shouldn't know those things since you had bigger issues to worry about. Like your friend, who Choso overhead and you knew was in Shibuya.

— Choso blankly stared at you when you inquired about your friend's whereabouts. He shook his head before shushing you. Your friend was in the main building, there was little likelihood of their survival. But why did that matter to you? They weren't your family. Choso's chest felt weird. You shouldn't care about your late friend. You are here with Choso right now. Why are you worrying about another?

Choso felt jealous. Light jealousy, but still jealousy. That's when it finally clicked for him. No, you weren't family. But you were his. When he said you were his to Mahito, he hadn't even realized what he said. However, now he finally realized what he said, and what it meant. He loved you.

Love was such a strange concept. He stared down at you, his hand playing with your hair without thinking. He was in love, with you. His grip on you got slightly more tight as his thoughts wandered. He had saved your life. Did you love him back for that?

If you didn't, that'd be okay. Choso prefers if you love him back, but you'd learn to either way. He needed you. You and his family were what he loved. But what if you and him had a family too? He knew his mind was going too far too soon, but he couldn't shake the idea of having kids with you. Maybe that'd be another way to get you to stay. That sounded like a good idea.

— You gazed up to Choso, who had gone unresponsive while thinking. You frowned slightly, a bit worried. Gently, you tapped him, and he seemed to wake back up. He stared at you silently for a few more moments before fully hugging you. His mouth was close to your ear, hot breath tickling you, "You'll be perfect."

[rispwr]

Number one girl ・❥・J.JK (Fluff)

pairings : jungkook x afab! reader

genre : frienemies2??, established relationship, fluff, slight angst, enemies in public, bsfs in secret.

sypnosis : what's more confusing than math? your feelings for a man you don't like but you don't hate.

content : student council vp! reader, playfuckboy! jk, bets, ciggarettes, alcohol, parties, club, jungkook map of the soul persona era, no smut just plot and fluff, misunderstanding.

word count : 14,4k

music rec : number one girl by rose, if you want to by beabadoobee, do i wanna know by arctic monkeys, number 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys.

It was 9 PM, And Jungkook had shown up at my door earlier, carrying my favorite food, with a grin on his face. now i was wrapped securely in his arms.

My legs were draped over his lap, and my head rested against his chest, As his hands moved lazily through my hair, his fingertips tracing soft patterns on my scalp. His voice, low, hummed a tune I didn't recognize but found comfort in.

"Kook?" I murmured, my voice muffled against his chest.

"Hmm?" His response was gentle, paired with the subtle vibration of his voice as he kept humming.

I lifted my head, finally meeting his gaze. His dark eyes softened as he looked down at me, his lips curving into a slight smile as his hand continued its soothing motion through my hair.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, my voice teasingly light. "...For dessert?"

The corner of his mouth twitched upward. "You want ice cream?" he guessed, amusement flickering in his tone.

I nodded quickly, the excitement bubbling up and escaping in the form of a wide grin. He chuckled softly at my enthusiasm. "Alright," he said with a soft laugh, his hand leaving my hair briefly to tap my nose.

"So, do you wanna let go of me so we can get some?" His voice was playful, his smile knowing.

I raised an eyebrow, feigning sarcasm. "Let me enjoy this moment, Jungkook," I replied dramatically. "When you're not being a moody girl on her period for once."

His laugh was warm, filling the space between us as he pulled me closer, his arms tightening around me. "A moody girl, huh?" he teased, his lips brushing the top of my head as he spoke.

I groaned loudly, burying my face back into his chest. "Kookkkk!!" I squealed, my voice muffled by his hoodie.

That's when it started. His hands, once gentle and soft, suddenly moved to tickle my sides. My laughter erupted uncontrollably, as I wriggled in his grip, trying and failing to escape.

"Stop! Jungkook!" I cried between gasps of laughter, my hands slapping against his biceps in a weak attempt at resistance.

But he only laughed harder, his grip firm as he leaned over me, effectively pinning me beneath him. and soon I was sprawled out on the bed, breathless and flushed.

He paused then, hovering over me with a grin, his dark hair falling into his eyes. For a moment, everything stopped. His laughter faded. His gaze locked with mine.

It was the way his eyes softened as they roamed over my face, the way his breath hitched ever so slightly.

He leaned in just a fraction closer, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something.

But then, as quickly as the moment came, it was gone.

"Uh, okay," he blurted, his voice an octave higher than usual as he broke the silence. "Let's go?"

The sudden awkwardness was almost comical. He scrambled off me, sitting up on the bed and rubbing the back of his neck.

I stayed where I was, still lying on my back, staring up at the ceiling in stunned silence. My heartbeat thundered in my chest, and I pressed a hand against it as if that would calm the storm raging inside me.

Jungkook stood then, adjusting his hoodie as he avoided my gaze. "So... you wanna get up and wear a bra so we can go out, hun?"

The teasing lilt in his voice snapped me out of my daze.

"Jeon Jungkook!" I gasped, sitting up and grabbing the nearest pillow. I hurled it at him with all the strength I could muster, but he dodged it effortlessly, his laughter filling the room once again.

"Shut up!" I yelled, my face heating as I scrambled to sit properly on the bed.

his laughter echoing down the hallway as he left the room.

Once he was gone, the silence returned, and I was left alone with my thoughts. My hand instinctively moved to my chest, pressing against the spot where my heart still raced.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, closing my eyes.

I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away as I climbed out of bed, grabbing a hoodie to throw over my shirt. The last thing I needed was to overthink this.

Jungkook was just... Jungkook.

Right?

I sighed, making my way out of the room to find him. He was waiting for me at the door, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, that signature grin plastered across his face.

"Ready?" he asked, his tone light and teasing as always.

I nodded, slipping into my shoes as he held the door open for me.

----

we climbed into his car. The quiet hum of the engine filled the silence as he pulled out of the driveway, his hands gripping the steering wheel with casual ease.

"You're not gonna make me pick the playlist, are you?" I asked, settling into my seat and glancing at him.

"Nah, I've got us covered," he said, already queuing up a playlist on his phone. Moments later, our favorite song filled the car, and he started tapping the steering wheel to the beat.

Kiss me Kiss me with your eyes closed Whisper that your heart shows

I couldn't help but laugh as he began singing. well, shouting? the lyrics dramatically.

Hold me, I'm your bunny

Tell me I'm not funny

"Are you auditioning for something, Jungkook?" I teased, watching as he turned to give me an exaggerated wink before returning his focus to the road.

"Maybe. Think I've got a chance?" he asked, his tone light but his grin mischievous.

"Only if they're looking for someone to scare the judges away," I quipped.

He gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Wow. Betrayed by my own princess passenger."

---

We ordered our ice cream quickly, opting to eat in the car rather than sitting outside in the chilly night air.

The car was warm and cozy as we sat, our cones in hand. Jungkook took an exaggerated lick of his ice cream, his eyes narrowing at me like he was waiting for me to mess up somehow.

"What?" I asked, taking a cautious bite of my own.

"You've got..." He gestured vaguely to my face, his expression far too smug for my liking.

"Where?" I asked, swiping at my cheek.

"Nope, not there."

I frowned, trying again, but his grin only widened.

"Here, let me help," he said, leaning across the console. Before I could protest, he swiped his thumb across my cheek, his touch light and fleeting. Then, with a grin, he licked the ice cream off his thumb.

"Jungkook!" I gasped, shoving him lightly as heat rushed to my face.

"What? I was just helping!" he said, his voice dripping with fake innocence.

I tried to glare at him, but the laughter bubbling out of me betrayed my attempt. "You're impossible."

"And you're pretty," he shot back, his tone teasing but his eyes soft.

At some point, Jungkook leaned back in his seat, turning to look at me with an unreadable expression.

"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head with a small smile. "Just... i like the ice cream"

"Yeah," I said softly, meeting his gaze. "Me too."

The ride back was quieter. His hand rested casually on the gear shift, and every now and then, his fingers would brush against mine. Neither of us moved away.

-----

As I made my way to the student council meeting, I caught sight of him. Jeon Jungkook.

He was leaning casually against the lockers, surrounded by his usual group of guys. His hair was a mess in that perfect, lazy way, and he had that smirk on his face. the one that made the girls around him giggle like he was some kind of god.

I kept walking, my head held high, trying not to engage. We had an unspoken agreement, after all: no interaction in public. Jungkook made it crystal clear he didn't want to ruin his reputation by being seen talking to me. Not that I cared.

The less drama in my life, the better.

Still, I couldn't help but hate the way he gave me mixed signals when we were alone, only to act like a complete stranger in public.

"You good, Y/N?" one of the student council members, Hana, asked as she passed by me.

I nodded quickly, adjusting my glasses as I brushed past her. "Yeah, just heading to the meeting."

"Cool, see you there!"

As she disappeared into the crowd, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw Jakay's name pop up on my screen.

Jakay: Yo nerd, wanna go out later?

I rolled my eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

You: I have a meeting with the student council.

Jakay: Picking them over me, huh?

You: Wouldn't even pick you in a room full of your clones.

There was a pause before his reply came through.

Jakay: Ouch :(

Jakay: Can we at least just FT?

You: You tryna get in my pants or something?

Jakay: Want me to?

I stopped in the middle of the hallway, blinking at my screen. For someone who was usually all jokes, he had a way of toeing the line between playful and annoying.

You: Ew. I'm blocking you.

Jakay: LMFAOOO

Smirking to myself, I quickly blocked his number and tucked my phone back into my pocket.

A few seconds later, another buzz.

Jakay: Wait.

Jakay: You actually blocked me?!!

Not Delivered

Jakay: 💔💔

I stifled a laugh, shaking my head as I made my way to the student council room.

-----

The notifications on my phone lit up as I opened the chat.

Jakay: Can I now finally please come over? Jakay: Pretty please?

Rolling my eyes, I typed back.

Me: Better show up with ice cream.

The reply was immediate.

Jakay: Mint?

Me: You know it. Me: You can go to my place first. You have the key. Clean my table, pleaseee.

Jakay: Alrightt.

Satisfied, I locked my phone and stuffed it back into my pocket. The corner of my lips twitched upward, but before I could dwell on the ridiculousness of my on-and-off dynamic with Jungkook, Namjoon's familiar voice broke through my thoughts.

"Heyyyy," he said, slinging his arm casually over my shoulder as he caught up to me.

"What's up, Joon?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at his sudden appearance.

"Let me walk you home, hm?" he offered with a grin.

I chuckled, shaking my head but nodding in agreement. "Alright, alright."

As we walked along the street, a nearby cafe caught my attention.

"Wait," I said, pausing mid-step. "I'll just grab some coffee." I pointed toward the cozy cafe.

Namjoon followed me inside as I walked straight to the counter.

"brewed coffee and an iced americano, all grande" I told the cashier confidently.

Namjoon blinked in surprise. "Oh, I don't want any—"

"Not for you, bro," I interrupted, laughing as I turned to smirk at him.

He sighed dramatically. "Dang. Cold-hearted."

I rolled my eyes playfully and paid for the drinks. While we waited, Namjoon shifted my bag and books from one hand to the other, balancing the weight. I finally collected the drinks, gripping both cups carefully, while Namjoon resumed his self-proclaimed role as my porter.

"Walked you home, carried your stuff, and still didn't get anything," he muttered under his breath, though his playful tone made me laugh.

We arrived outside my apartment building, and I juggled the drinks to pull out my keys. Unlocking the door, I held it open for Namjoon to step inside.

"Just put my bag on the coffee table, thanks," I said, heading toward the kitchen to set the drinks down.

"Sure thing," Namjoon replied, stepping further into the apartment.

As I turned back around, my breath caught in my throat. Standing in the hallway was Jungkook. Shirtless. A towel hung low on his hips, and droplets of water slid down his chest, his damp hair clinging to his forehead. He looked up, catching my stare, and the corner of his mouth curved into a mischievous grin.

"Done staring?" he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

I snapped out of it, my cheeks heating. "Oh, shut up, Jungkook," I shot back, my tone sharper than I intended.

Jungkook chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he reached up to rake a hand through his wet hair. The way he was clearly enjoying my flustered reaction only made me more annoyed—or was it embarrassed?

Behind me, Namjoon cleared his throat loudly.

"Ooookayy... so, I'm..." He glanced between Jungkook and me, his brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and realization. "Going?" he said, dragging the word out awkwardly.

Before I could even think of a response, Namjoon awkwardly laughed and moved toward the door.

"Thanks for walking me home!" I called after him, trying to smooth over the awkwardness as I followed him to the door.

"Yeah, uh, no problem. See you around!" Namjoon waved briefly before disappearing into the hallway.

I shut the door and turned to face Jungkook, who was now leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, his expression smug.

"Friends, huh?" he said, his tone teasing but with an edge of something deeper

I crossed my arms, tilting my head with a smirk. "Why? Jealous?" I teased, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook.

His confidence faltered for a split second, and his face flushed a telltale shade of pink. "Why would I be?" he shot back, but the defensive edge in his tone only made me grin wider.

I took a step forward, then another, closing the space between us until we were just inches apart. His eyes widened slightly, flicking between mine, his breath hitching as if he wasn't sure what was coming next.

"So close, Jungkook," I murmured, just loud enough for him to hear, leaning in as if to kiss him but stopping short. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his body stiff as a board.

"There's an iced americano for you," I whispered against his ear, my voice soft and teasing.

I heard his sharp intake of breath as I pulled back, grinning at his completely stunned expression. His face was a perfect mix of confusion and embarrassment, his lips slightly parted as if he were about to say something but couldn't find the words.

Turning on my heel, I burst out laughing, leaving him standing there, flustered and dumbfounded.

"Also, go wear some clothes!" I yelled over my shoulder as I walked to the counter.

Grabbing my iced white mocha, I took a long sip, savoring the sweetness while sneaking a glance at Jungkook from the corner of my eye.

He was still frozen in place, his hand running through his wet hair as he muttered something under his breath. Then, finally, he stormed off toward the bedroom, grumbling loud enough for me to hear.

"Unbelievable," he huffed, though the faint smile tugging at his lips didn't go unnoticed.

---

Jungkook disappeared into my room, grumbling something under his breath. I chuckled to myself as I heard him rifling through drawers. He always left a stash of clothes here, sweats, shirts, and sometimes even socks, as if this was his second home. I didn't mind. It just meant I got to see him looking effortlessly cozy, even when I wasn't ready for the effect it had on me.

A few minutes later, he emerged, now dressed in gray sweats and a loose black t-shirt. His damp hair still clung to his forehead in soft waves, and he ran a hand through it as he joined me in the kitchen. Without a word, he plopped onto the stool beside me, his elbow propped on the counter as he reached for my brewed coffee

"Touch it and you're dead," I warned, pulling the drink just out of his reach.

He smirked but pulled back, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"So," he said, leaning against the counter. "How was your student council meeting?"

I groaned at the question, resting my head on my hand. "The same. Boring and stressful. We have so many projects to focus on for the school. I don't know if I can even do it anymore."

I punctuated my complaint with a loud slurp of my iced white mocha.

Jungkook frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You need sleep. And you're definitely not getting any if you keep drinking that," he pointed out, gesturing to the drink I'd been clinging to for dear life.

I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze. "Would you rather this be vodka or... coffee?"

He hesitated for a moment before muttering, "Coffee..."

"Good choice," I teased, taking another sip.

"But seriously," I added, "I've got a presentation and essays due, like, all at once. My calendar's booked solid this month." I let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing my temples. "Might have to block you again to stop you from bothering me."

Jungkook's lips twitched in amusement, but he rolled his eyes. "You know you could just mute me, right? That's a thing."

I shook my head, leaning closer to him with a grin. "That would be too boring. I like being spammed with notifications of a play-fuckboy begging me to unblock him."

As if to punctuate my point, I reached out and booped his nose lightly with my finger.

He scrunched his nose, laughing softly. "You're so annoying, you know that?"

"That's rich, coming from you," I shot back.

Jungkook paused for a moment, his expression shifting slightly. "Hey, Y/N?"

"Hmm?" I hummed, turning to look at him.

"Nothing," he said quickly, glancing away as if he'd thought better of whatever he wanted to say.

I tilted my head, frowning slightly. "What's with you? Are you sick or something?"

"No," he muttered, waving off my question.

"Argh!" I groaned, pushing myself up from the stool dramatically. "I don't wanna be here anymore."

But as I stood, the world tilted abruptly. My legs wobbled, and I felt the ground rush up toward me.

"Y/N!" Jungkook was at my side in an instant, his arms steadying me before I could hit the floor.

"Fuck, are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with worry as he gripped my shoulders.

"I'm fine," I mumbled, trying to shrug him off. "Just lost my balance."

"You're not fine," he snapped, his jaw tightening.

"I just need to lie down for a bit—"

"Fuck no," he muttered, cutting me off. Before I could protest, he scooped me up in one swift motion, holding me in his arms like I weighed nothing.

"Jungkook, put me down!" I squealed, flailing in his grip, but he only tightened his hold.

"Nope," he said firmly, carrying me toward the door. "You're going to the doctor."

"You're overreacting!" I whined, kicking my legs weakly.

"And you're underreacting!" he shot back, his voice a mixture of frustration and concern.

The door swung open, and Jungkook carried me into the hallway. I buried my face in his chest, mortified as neighbors peeked out of their doors to see what the commotion was.

"Put me down! People are staring!" I hissed, trying to squirm out of his arms.

"Let them stare," he said, completely unfazed as he made his way to the elevator.

By the time we reached his car, I had resigned myself to my fate, crossing my arms with a pout as he settled me into the passenger seat.

"You're ridiculous," I muttered as he buckled me in.

"Yeah? And you're stubborn," he shot back, closing the door and jogging around to the driver's side.

The drive to the clinic was filled with silence. Jungkook's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw set in a way that he was still annoyed or worried.

"You don't have to do this, you know," I said, breaking the silence.

He glanced at me briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. "Someone has to."

The simple statement sent a strange warmth through my chest, and I found myself biting back a smile.

--

At the clinic, Jungkook still refused to let me walk, carrying me inside despite my protests. The doctor confirmed it was nothing serious just exhaustion, stress and low blood sugar.

"You need to take care of yourself," he scolded as we left the clinic. "Eat something, sleep more, and stop living on caffeine and stress."

"Okay, dad," I teased, earning a glare.

--

Back at the apartment, Jungkook carried me inside again, this time depositing me gently on the couch.

"Stay," he ordered, pointing at me like I was a misbehaving puppy.

"I'm not a dog," I muttered, but I stayed put, too tired to argue.

He disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a plate of "real food" and a glass of orange juice, not just your usual coke and apple.

"Eat," he said, setting it in front of me.

I raised an eyebrow but obeyed, taking a bite.

Satisfied, he flopped onto the other end of the couch, watching me closely.

"Feel better?" he asked after a while.

"Yeah," I admitted, avoiding his gaze.

"Good girl."

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "I'll be busy tomorrow," he said casually.

My brows furrowed. "Why? Gonna be busy fucking other girls?" I teased, my voice dripping with bitterness (jealousy) that I didn't even try to hide.

He straightened, tilting his head as he looked at me. "You really think that's all I do?"

"You seem to," I replied, averting my eyes and shrugging like it didn't bother me.

"For your information," he said, leaning forward slightly, "I haven't fucked anyone in four months."

"Wow, I'll give you a reward for that," I shot back sarcastically, though my heart was unexpectedly beating a little faster.

"Come on, Y/N," he sighed.

I looked up, surprised to see him sliding off his chair and kneeling on the floor in front of me. His gaze was soft but insistent, his presence filling the space between us.

"I'll be in Busan tomorrow," he said, his voice quieter now. "It's my mom's birthday."

"Oh," I said simply, unsure where this was going.

"Do you want to come?" he asked.

"Why?" I blurted out, narrowing my eyes at him.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, his voice steady but slightly unsure. "I wanna... introduce you to her."

My chest tightened at his words, and for a moment, I was completely thrown off. He wanted me to meet his mom? This wasn't something we did. This wasn't how we were supposed to be.

"Okay," I heard myself say before I could think twice.

Jungkook blinked, clearly surprised. "But you said you're fully booked this month," he reminded me.

"I'll make time and clear it up for you," I said, the words leaving my mouth without a single hesitation.

My own reply startled me. Why was I saying this? Why was I rearranging my schedule for him, of all people? He was just a... friend. Right?

"Alright," he said after a moment, a smile spreading across his face. "Pack up early."

Before I could respond, he suddenly stood and scooped me up in his arms again.

"What the fuck, Jeon Jungkook," I grumbled, glaring at him, though the warmth of his arms made it impossible to push him away.

"Relax," he said, laughing softly as he carried me to my room. He pushed the door open with his foot and stepped inside.

With surprising gentleness, he laid me down on the bed and tucked the blanket around me, his hands lingering for a second longer than necessary.

"I'll be here in a sec," he said, his voice softer now. "I'm just gonna clean up the mess in our kitchen."

He stood, giving me one last glance before heading out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

I stared at the ceiling, my heart thudding in my chest as the word "our" echoed in my mind.

Our kitchen.

The casual way he said it sent my stomach into a loop. It shouldn't have meant anything. It was probably just a slip of the tongue. But still, the idea of something shared between us, of an "our" instead of a "yours" or "mine," made my thoughts spiral.

This wasn't normal. None of this was. The teasing, the way he made himself so comfortable in my space, the way I let him take care of me even when I insisted I didn't need it. it all blurred the line of what we were supposed to be.

Why did I agree to go to Busan with him? Why was I clearing my schedule for him?

"Get a grip, Y/N," I muttered to myself, pressing my palms against my heated cheeks.

I groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head. This was going to be a long night.

True to his word, Jungkook returned a little while later. I heard the faint creak of the door as he pushed it open, followed by the soft sound of his footsteps approaching the bed.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice soft and tentative.

I peeked out from under the blanket, squinting at him in the dim light. His hair was now dry, now curling slightly at the edges, and the loose shirt he wore made him look almost boyish.

"The kitchen's clean," he said, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweats.

"Good," I muttered, my voice muffled by the pillow.

He chuckled, the sound warm and low, as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"And you're a pain in the ass," I shot back, though there was no real bite in my tone.

For a moment, we just looked at each other, the quiet settling around us. His presence was grounding, even if I hated admitting it.

"Want me to go home, or...?" he asked, his voice trailing off as if unsure how to finish the sentence.

I blinked at him, surprised by the question. Did I want him to leave?

"No," I said softly.

His brows lifted slightly, and he tilted his head. "You sure? I can just crash on the couch."

"Sleep here," I said quickly, tugging at his arm. "On the bed with me."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Still a brat, huh?"

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Your point?"

He chuckled softly, the sound almost affectionate, as he gave in. "Alright, alright. Scoot over."

I shuffled to the side of the bed, watching as he slid in beside me. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and the sudden closeness of him made my heart race.

Jungkook turned to face me, propping his head up on one hand. His other hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face.

"You're comfortable with this?" he asked, his voice low and almost hesitant.

I nodded, not trusting my voice to sound steady.

"Alright," he said again, his lips quirking up in a small smile as he laid back, pulling me against him.

I froze for a moment as his arms wrapped around me, but the warmth of his embrace melted my hesitation. His hand found its way into my hair, his fingers threading through the strands in a soothing rhythm.

"Better?" he asked softly, his breath warm against my temple.

"Yeah," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek, the quiet sound of his breathing, and the soft touch of his hand in my hair lulled me into a state of calm I hadn't felt in days.

"You're dangerous," I mumbled sleepily.

"Hmm?" he hummed, his fingers pausing for a moment before continuing their gentle movements.

"You make me feel..." my words slurred as i began to fall asleep.

----

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the blinds. I was already up, moving quietly as I packed for the three-day trip to Busan. I still didn't fully understand why I'd agreed to go or how I had so effortlessly rearranged my schedule for him. But as I folded clothes into the suitcase, a small part of me felt... excited.

Behind me, the sound of shifting blankets broke the quiet. I glanced over to see Jungkook stirring, his eyes barely open as he propped himself up on one elbow.

He blinked a few times before his gaze landed on me. "You're pretty," he said, his morning voice raspy and warm, catching me completely off guard.

My face heated instantly, and I fumbled with a bottle of skincare I'd just picked up. "Morning," I muttered, turning to face him briefly.

"You should wear a shirt and get ready," I said quickly, trying to redirect the attention away from my flushed cheeks. My eyes betrayed me for a split second, darting to his biceps. a habit I'd tried and failed to curb. He always had this infuriating tendency to sleep shirtless, even when he wasn't alone.

He smirked, clearly noticing, but thankfully didn't say anything.

After we both finished getting ready, we grabbed our bags and headed out. His car was waiting for us in the lot, and I climbed into the passenger seat as Jungkook loaded the luggage into the trunk.

As he slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, he glanced at me. "What'd you tell them?" he asked, his tone casual.

I grinned, leaning back in my seat. "Told them I was sick. Showed them the doctor's letter."

He chuckled at that, his laugh soft and low.

"You're something else, hun," he said, shaking his head with an amused smile.

We drove in comfortable silence for a while, the hum of the engine and the faint sound of the radio filling the car. I found myself nervously picking at the hem of my shirt, my thoughts drifting to what lay ahead.

"So... is your mom..." I hesitated, glancing at him.

He raised an eyebrow, sparing me a curious look. "What?"

"Is she scary?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

"Why? You scared?" he teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Who wouldn't be?" I exclaimed, turning to face him fully. "It's my first time meeting her. First impressions last, you know?"

I slumped into my seat, crossing my arms as anxiety began to creep in.

Jungkook let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as he glanced at me. "My first impression of you was a scary, strict vice president," he teased.

"Strict?!" I exclaimed, reaching out to playfully slap his biceps.

"Very strict," he said, laughing again. "You wouldn't even let me cut in line for coffee at the canteen that one time."

"You were trying to skip!" I protested, though I couldn't help but laugh along with him.

"And you called me out in front of everyone."

"Because you deserved it!"

Jungkook shook his head, a grin still plastered on his face. "And now look at us. Guess first impressions aren't everything after all."

His words hung in the air for a moment.

Us

I looked out the window, my lips curving into a small smile.

"Guess not," I murmured.

I started to relax a little. Jungkook's ease behind the wheel and the familiar way he teased me made it harder to stay nervous.

"Do you think she'll like me?" I asked suddenly, my voice quieter this time.

Jungkook glanced at me, his expression gentler now. "Of course she will."

"You sound so sure," I said, biting my lip.

"Because I know her," he replied, his tone steady. "And I know you. You're... you're great, Y/N. She'll see that."

I blinked at him, caught off guard by his sincerity.

After what felt like an eternity of driving, we finally arrived in Busan. I stepped out of the car, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling in my stomach. I adjusted my shirt, suddenly hyperaware of every wrinkle and stray strand of hair.

Jungkook moved to the trunk, effortlessly grabbing our bags. His casual state only made me feel more out of place, my shyness creeping in.

"Mom! We're here!" Jungkook called out as we approached the house, his voice carrying warmth and familiarity as he rang the doorbell.

A moment later, the door swung open to reveal his mom. Her face lit up the second she saw him, and she pulled him into a tight hug.

"Jungkook, my son!" she exclaimed, ruffling his hair as he grumbled in protest, though his smile betrayed how much he didn't mind.

Then her attention turned to me. Her gaze softened, her kind eyes taking me in as she stepped forward.

"Hello, dear," she said, her tone gentle as she opened her arms and pulled me into a brief but warm hug.

"Hi, ma'am," I replied, smiling shyly as I straightened up.

"Call me Mom, dear," she said, patting my shoulder affectionately, her smile widening as if I'd already won her over.

The unexpected kindness made me relax a little. "Okay, Mom," I said softly, smiling back.

"Perfect," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Come in, come in. Make yourselves at home."

Jungkook led the way as we stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloping us. It was cozy, with soft lighting and family photos lining the walls. The faint scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, making my nerves ease just a bit more.

Jungkook set the bags down by the stairs and glanced back at me, offering a reassuring smile. "See? Nothing to be scared of."

His mom chuckled, catching his words. "What's this? Were you nervous to meet me?" she teased, her tone lighthearted as she glanced at me.

I laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck. "Maybe a little. First impressions and all..."

"Well, let me tell you," she said, reaching out to squeeze my hand gently, "you're doing just fine."

Jungkook smirked at me, clearly enjoying my flustered state, and I shot him a subtle glare.

"Jungkook, why don't you bring your stuff upstairs while I finish up lunch?" his mom suggested, already heading toward the kitchen.

"Will do," he said, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the stairs before I could protest.

Jungkook led me through the house, pointing out random things like the cozy balcony view of the ocean. Then he stopped outside a door and pushed it open, revealing what I assume was his old bedroom.

"This is where I used to sneak out from," he said with a mischievous grin, pointing to the balcony door on the far side of the room.

"Why am I not surprised?" I teased, crossing my arms as I leaned against the doorway.

"You shouldn't be," he said, laughing softly as he walked into the room.

The space was simple but cozy, with warm wooden furniture, a few posters still tacked to the walls, and a bed that took up most of the space.

"Guess this is where we'll be staying," he said casually, tossing his duffel bag onto the bed.

"We?" I echoed, my eyebrows shooting up.

He turned to look at me, clearly amused by my surprise. "What? You scared to share a room with me?"

I rolled my eyes, though I could feel heat creeping up my neck. "Just don't hog the bed," I muttered, stepping into the room and setting my bag down.

Jungkook chuckled, leaning against the wall with his hands stuffed into his pockets. "See? Not so bad, right?"

"Not bad at all," I admitted, glancing around the room before my eyes landed on the balcony door again.

The sound of his voice brought my attention back to him. "She likes you," he said suddenly, his tone softer now.

I blinked, caught off guard by the statement. "How can you tell?"

"Because I know her," he said simply, his gaze meeting mine. "She wouldn't be this warm if she didn't."

A warmth spread through my chest at his words, and I found myself smiling despite the lingering nerves.

"Come on," he said, pushing off the wall. "Let's go help before she thinks I'm useless again."

Back in the kitchen, his mom was setting the table, the smell of homemade food filling the air.

"Perfect timing! Jungkook, you can put these on the table," she said, handing him a tray of side dishes.

"And Y/N, dear, could you help me with the soup?"

"Of course," I said, moving to the stove to carry the pot she pointed to.

As we worked together, Jungkook chimed in with little jokes and playful comments, earning a mix of laughs and exasperated eye rolls from his mom.

"Still the same troublemaker," she said, shaking her head fondly.

"Some things never change," I teased, glancing at Jungkook, who grinned shamelessly.

Once everything was ready, we all sat down to eat. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and stories of Jungkook's childhood. His mom had an endless supply of embarrassing anecdotes, and I couldn't stop laughing at the way Jungkook tried to defend himself, his ears turning pink as she recounted his antics.

"Mom, stop," he groaned, burying his face in his hands after the third story about him crying over a lost toy at the beach.

"Oh, don't be dramatic," she said, waving him off. "Y/N should know what she's getting into if she's spending time with you."

I couldn't help but laugh, feeling more comfortable with each passing minute.

After lunch, Jungkook helped clean up while his mom and I chatted at the table. She asked me about school, my family, and my interests, her questions thoughtful but never intrusive.

By the time Jungkook joined us again, I felt like I'd known her for years.

"Alright, Mom," he said, stretching as he stood behind her chair. "I'm stealing Y/N for the rest of the day."

"Stealing her? She's right here!" she teased, turning to pat his hand.

He grinned. "We're gonna go check out the beach."

His mom smiled knowingly. "Go ahead. But don't let her get cold, Jungkook."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a playful salute, earning a laugh from both of us.

As we grabbed our jackets and headed out the door, I glanced back at his mom, who waved at us with a warm smile. For the first time that day, I felt a little less nervous.

-----

We stood at the edge of the beach, the cool breeze tousling my hair as I watched the waves crash gently against the shore. The sun was beginning to set.

Jungkook was standing a little farther away, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I used to come here whenever I felt sad," he said quietly, almost to himself. "It's really relaxing here."

I glanced at him, then back to the peaceful view. "It really is," I agreed, feeling the calmness of the place wash over me. It was the kind of tranquility I hadn't realized I needed until now.

Suddenly, Jungkook moved, taking his phone out of his pocket. "Stand there," he instructed, pointing to a spot near the water, a small smile on his face. "Let me take a picture of you."

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at the spot he pointed to. "Really?" I asked, trying to hide my smile. "You know I'm not exactly in the mood for a photo shoot."

"Just one picture," he insisted, grinning like he always did when he was being playful. "I promise it'll be a good one."

Reluctantly, I stepped into the spot he'd pointed out, the wind picking up and blowing my hair behind me. I couldn't help but smile, the feeling of the breeze and the soft sound of the waves putting me at ease.

Jungkook tapped the screen of his phone, taking the picture. "Perfect," he said, walking toward me as he looked at the photo. He glanced at me and smirked. "But, no posting this, okay? The school board might think I made an excuse to go out."

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "But you are," he teased, clearly enjoying getting under my skin.

I shot him a playful glare. "Shut up," I muttered, though I couldn't help but laugh.

"You know," I began, breaking the silence, "I only stay in Seoul to get away from my parents."

Jungkook looked over at me, eyebrows raised, clearly intrigued. "Why?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

I shifted my gaze toward the horizon, the vastness of the ocean making me feel smaller, but in a good way. "They always want me to be the first in everything," I vented, my words coming out faster than I expected. "Be like this, be like that... nothing I do is ever enough for them. It's always about achieving the next thing, being perfect. I don't know anymore," I finished, the words feeling heavier than I anticipated.

I let out a weak chuckle, trying to push the lump in my throat away. "I don't even know who I am sometimes."

Jungkook's gaze softened, and I could tell he was genuinely listening. But of course, he couldn't leave it without teasing me. "Is that why you're a nerd?" he asked with a playful tone, trying to lighten the mood.

I raised an eyebrow at him, rolling my eyes, but I played along. "Maybe," I said with a small smile, the tension in my chest easing just a little. "I was raised that way."

We both laughed, and it felt like the weight of everything had lifted, just for a moment. Maybe it was the beach, or maybe it was just being here with him,

We stayed there for a while, just sitting on the soft sand, the night sky above us twinkling with stars and for once, I felt at peace. We talked about things that felt too deep to share with anyone else

But eventually, the cool night air started to get to me, and I let out a small yawn. "We should go back. I'm sleepy," I said, stretching my arms and feeling the weight of the day catch up with me.

Jungkook nodded, standing up and offering his hand to help me up. "Alright," he replied, pulling me gently to my feet.

-----

 After cleaning up from dinner and spending hours chatting with his mom, Jungkook and I finally headed back to his room.

"You can take the bed," I said, trying to sound casual as I rummaged through my bag.

"So can you," Jungkook replied, his tone laced with amusement as he tossed his hoodie onto the chair.

I glanced up at him, narrowing my eyes. "Jungkook, it's your bed."

"And it's big enough for both of us," he said with a shrug, plopping down onto the mattress like he owned the place—which, technically, he did. "Unless you're worried about me hogging it."

"You do hog the bed," I muttered, crossing my arms.

He smirked, lying back against the pillows and stretching out his arms. "Guess we'll find out, won't we?"

I huffed, but deep down, the thought of sharing the bed with him wasn't nearly as daunting as it probably should've been. With a resigned sigh, I climbed onto one side of the bed, slipping under the blanket and keeping some space between us.

For a moment, the room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the wind outside and the soft creak of the mattress as Jungkook shifted to get comfortable.

"Comfortable?" he asked after a while, his voice low and warm in the dimly lit room.

"Yeah," I murmured, my back still turned to him.

But then I felt the bed shift again as he moved closer. His arm slipped around my waist, pulling me toward him.

"Kook," I whispered, my voice catching slightly. "If your mom comes in, she might get the wrong idea."

"I don't care," he said simply, his tone steady. His arms tightened around me, and I could feel the faint smile on his lips as his chin rested lightly against the top of my head.

I giggled softly, the sound muffled against his shirt.

"You're not funny," I muttered, though I didn't even think about pulling away.

"And you're funny?" he teased, his fingers finding their way into my hair. He began threading them gently through the strands, his touch soothing and familiar.

the next day

I became aware of a gentle touch against my face, soft and featherlight. His fingers brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering as if he were memorizing every detail.

When I finally opened my eyes, Jungkook's face was the first thing I saw. He was propped up on one elbow, his eyes warm and filled with a quiet fondness. His lips curved into a small, tender smile as he continued to study me.

"Morning," I said, my voice groggy with sleep as I let out a yawn, stretching my arms above my head.

"Morning," he replied softly, his tone almost teasing but still gentle.

I blinked at him, my brows furrowing slightly as my brain caught up with the moment. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, giving him a suspicious look.

His smile grew, but he didn't answer. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on mine, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners.

Flustered, I reached out and lightly smacked his arm. "Stop it," I muttered, my cheeks heating as I quickly sat up.

Jungkook laughed softly, his voice deep and husky from sleep. "What? I'm just admiring the view," he teased, his grin playful but still disarming.

"i hate you" I shot back, my face burning as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

I could feel his eyes following me as I made my way toward the bathroom, his quiet chuckle filling the room.

"Where are you running off to so fast?" he called out, his tone laced with amusement.

"To get away from you!" I shouted over my shoulder, though the smile tugging at my lips gave me away.

As soon as I closed the bathroom door behind me, I leaned against it, my hand pressed over my rapidly beating heart.

---

As we entered the dining room, my eyes were immediately drawn to someone new sitting at the table. Jungkook's brother, Ji-won, glanced up from his phone, his expression brightening when he saw us.

"Good morning," I said with a cheerful smile, adjusting my glasses as I stepped closer to the table.

Ji-won's gaze flickered between Jungkook and me, a teasing grin forming on his face. "Woah, you leave Busan for two years, and you already have a hot, smart girlfriend?"

I felt my cheeks flush at his words, but before I could respond, Jungkook waved his hand dismissively, his voice calm but firm.

"Oh no, she's just my friend. We're just very close," he said, pulling out a chair for himself and sitting down.

The words hit harder than they should have.

Just my friend.

I froze for a split second, forcing a polite smile as I took a seat at the table.

Just friends?

No way in hell "friends" did the things we did. No way they shared beds, whispered soft words at night, or looked at each other the way he looked at me this morning.

"Yeah, right," his mom chimed in, shaking her head with a knowing smile.

Before I could dwell on it further, she turned her attention to me. "Oh, Y/N dear, come here, eat up," she said warmly, handing me a plate piled high with food.

"Thank you, Mom," I said softly, trying to focus on the kindness in her voice rather than the pit forming in my stomach.

As I began eating, Jungkook's mom leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Does Jungkook feed you nice?" she asked, her tone playful.

I laughed, deciding to play along. "He doesn't even want to go to my favorite samgyupsal place," I said, pouting dramatically for effect.

"Hey!" Jungkook cut in, clearly flustered. "I buy you ice cream all the time!"

I raised an eyebrow, smirking at his weak defense. Before I could counter, his mom interjected, her laughter filling the room.

"Well, Kook, ice cream isn't very healthy, you know," she teased, shaking her head at him.

Jungkook crossed his arms, his lips forming a pout as he leaned back in his chair. "Well, if the princess wants it, she gets it," he muttered, feigning sulkiness.

The sight made me laugh softly, my earlier doubts momentarily pushed to the back of my mind.

"That's better," his mom said with a chuckle, patting his shoulder before turning her attention back to Ji-won.

I tried to pretend it didn't hurt.

Jungkook and his mom left for the supermarket, leaving me alone at the kitchen island with Ji-won. I had my laptop open, trying to focus on typing my speech for the foundation day, though my thoughts were a mess.

"So," Ji-won began, breaking the silence. "Do you like Jungkook?"

The question made me freeze, my fingers hovering over the keys. I took a moment, trying to gather myself, then resumed typing without looking at him.

"W-we're just friends," I said, the words feeling heavy as they left my lips.

Ji-won let out a low hum, clearly unconvinced. "Really? Because I don't think friends sleep on the same bed and cuddle each other to sleep... naked."

I gasped, my head whipping toward him. "We do not sleep naked!"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. "Saw you both last night. Jungkook was... shirtless, and you—"

Before he could finish, I cut him off. "No! I was wearing a tank top, and Jungkook was... shirtless." My voice trailed off, accepting my defeat. "But Jungkook always sleeps shirtless!" I added quickly, as if it somehow defended my dignity.

"Right," Ji-won said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. "So, if you're not his hot, smart girlfriend, then... who was he talking about?"

My body went stiff, and my eyes dropped to my laptop screen.

He has a girlfriend?

My heart sank as the thought hit me.

"I-I don't know," I mumbled, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace as I stood, grabbing my laptop. "Excuse me."

"Hey!" Ji-won called after me, his voice filled with teasing humor. "If you don't want Jungkook, I have a friend I can introduce you to—"

Before he could finish, I hurried upstairs, my footsteps loud against the wooden stairs.

In Jungkook's room, I placed my laptop on his desk, my breathing heavy as I tried to steady myself.

"fuck," I muttered under my breath. But the words did little to stop the ache forming in my chest.

"I need air," I whispered, grabbing a few cigarettes and a lighter from my bag.

---

The beach wasn't far from the house. The moment my feet hit the sand, the cool breeze washed over me.

Lighting a cigarette, I took a long puff, letting the smoke swirl in my lungs before exhaling slowly.

Is he really that stupid?

I took another drag, the embers glowing in the fading light of the evening.

Making me feel like this... and having a girlfriend?

All this time, he didn't want me.

Why was I even feeling like this? He was right. We were just friends. Nothing more.

He's my friend, and I'm his... loser, nerd friend.

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head as I brought the cigarette to my lips again.

Should've known from the start. He doesn't even want to interact with me in public for the sake of his reputation.

The familiar ding of my phone pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced at the screen.

Jakay: Where are you? Jakay: Nvm. I checked your loc. Jakay: I'll go there with you.

Seen.

I put my phone in my pocket, plugging in my earbuds and pressing to play August by Taylor Swift.

"August slipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine..."

I sank onto the sand, pulling my knees to my chest as I stared out at the waves.

"I remember thinkin' I had you..."

Before I could take another puff of my cigarette, it was yanked from my hand.

"Y/N..."

I looked up to see Jungkook standing over me, disappointment etched across his face. He held the cigarette between his fingers, his jaw tight.

"You told me," he began, his voice low and steady. "You told me you wouldn't smoke anymore."

I turned away, hugging my knees tighter. "You smoke too," I muttered.

"Yeah, Y/N," he said, his voice softening. "But just because I do doesn't mean you should."

Before I could respond, he knelt beside me and pulled me into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around me, his chin resting on my shoulder.

"You know I care about you, right?" he murmured, his voice breaking slightly. "Even when you're being such a fucking brat... I do. I fucking do, Y/N."

His grip on me tightened as he continued. "I can't handle seeing you do the things I do. It kills me."

I closed my eyes, his words sinking in, but the ache in my chest didn't ease.

I pulled away from his grip, standing up and brushing the sand off my clothes.

"Let's go," I said coldly, refusing to meet his eyes. "It's your mom's birthday party."

Back at the house, everyone was busy setting the table and decorating for the celebration. I immediately went to help Jungkook's mom, avoiding him entirely.

"Happy birthday, Mom," I said with a warm smile as I hugged her tightly.

"Oh, dear, come here more often, yeah?" she said, patting my back affectionately.

"I'll make sure to," I promised, returning her smile as I handed her the plates.

Dinner went by in a blur of laughter and cheer, everyone singing happy birthday as the candles on the cake flickered. But through it all, Jungkook's eyes never left mine.

"Happy birthday!" everyone cheered as his mom blew out the candles.

I clapped along with everyone else, but the weight of Jungkook's gaze made it impossible to focus on anything else. Across the table, his dark eyes locked onto mine

--

After dinner, I helped clean up the dining room, making sure to keep my distance from Jungkook. Once everything was done, I retreated upstairs to his room, collapsing onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

"Y/N?"

The door creaked open, and Jungkook stepped inside, his expression unreadable as he approached the bed.

"Can we talk?" he asked, sitting down beside me.

I didn't answer, instead sitting up and taking a deep breath.

"Why do you... why do you always make me so confused?" I finally said, my voice trembling.

"What?" he asked, his brows furrowing.

"I don't even know what I feel anymore, Jungkook," I continued, my words spilling out. "One second, you're treating me like I'm someone special to you. Then the next second, you remind me we're only friends."

"Y/N, I—"

I cut him off, my voice breaking. "I hate it, Jungkook. I fucking hate it."

Tears streamed down my face as I looked at him, my chest heaving. "You bring me here to meet your mother, and then I find out you apparently have a 'hot, smart girlfriend.'" I paused to take a shaky breath. "I hate that I'm crying in front of you right now."

Before I could pull away, he brought me into his arms. I tried to push him off, but his grip didn't falter.

"You're out there fucking other girls at school," I sobbed, weakly hitting his chest. "And I'm here, being a fool for your words and actions. I don't even know what to feel anymore."

I looked down, my voice barely above a whisper. "I think I'm in love, but I'm not, because I despise your guts. But at the same time... I love hating you because....." i sigh not wanting to drop the L bomb.

Jungkook let me rant, his arms never leaving me.

"Did you drink?" he asked softly.

I froze, looking down at my lap.

"How much?" he pressed.

"Maybe... three. Or seven," I mumbled.

He let out a deep sigh, gently putting me down on the bed.

"We'll talk when you're sober," he said, grabbing my makeup remover and carefully wiping my face.

I stared at him, speechless.

"Didn't your doctor tell you to stop drinking? Smoking? Any of that?" he muttered with a soft chuckle, his voice heavy with frustration.

He paused, his voice barely audible. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I couldn't respond. Instead, i fell asleep. 

-----

I woke up, my head spinning slightly as I blinked at the clock on the bedside table.

12:23 PM.

I shot up, panic coursing through me. "Oh my god," I muttered, scrambling to throw on something decent before rushing downstairs.

As I went downstairs, I found Ji-won, Jungkook, and his mom already at the kitchen table, chatting and enjoying what was left of brunch.

"I'm so, so sorry I woke up late," I blurted, trying to catch my breath as I stood by the table.

"Oh, it's alright, dear," Jungkook's mom said with a kind smile. "Jungkook told me you weren't feeling well. Here, go eat." She pushed a plate toward me, still warm with food.

"Thank you," I said, my voice softening as I smiled back and sat down. Jungkook's eyes were on me the whole time, but I avoided looking directly at him.

"We'll head home in a bit," Jungkook said after a moment. "Maybe later, once Y/N finishes getting ready."

I turned to him, frowning slightly. "D-do you know what happened last night? I don't think I remember much. I just remember you telling me we'd talk."

He tilted his head, his lips pressing into a tight line. "You don't... remember?"

"Why? Did I say something bad? Or wrong?" I asked nervously.

"Nothing," he said flatly, his attention shifting to his phone as his tone grew colder.

The tension in the room was suffocating, so I quickly finished eating and stood up. "I-I'll go dress up," I mumbled, heading upstairs without waiting for a response.

In the room, I focused on packing, trying to push away the unease settling in my chest. I zipped up my suitcase just as Jungkook came in, helping me carry our stuff downstairs to load into the trunk.

---

After bidding his mom and brother goodbye, Jungkook and I climbed into the car. The silence between us was deafening.

"Just drop me off at my apartment," I said, my gaze fixed out the window.

"I know," he replied curtly.

The drive back to Seoul stretched endlessly, each second weighed down by unspoken words. I stole a glance at him occasionally, but his expression remained unreadable, his focus firmly on the road.

When we finally arrived, Jungkook carried my bags into my apartment. He set them down quietly, his movements stiff.

"Bye," he said simply before walking out the door.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the room, and I sank onto the couch, exhaling shakily. My phone buzzed on the cushion beside me.

I picked it up to see Namjoon's name flashing on the screen. With a sigh, I answered.

"Hey, wanna go to a party with me?" he asked, his voice chipper.

"Joon, you know I don't like parties," I replied, leaning my head back against the couch. "Plus, I'm a VP. I can't be doing that."

"Come on! Just this once, pleaseee," he begged.

I groaned, rubbing my temple. "Alright, just this once. But—"

"But what?" he interrupted eagerly.

"What do I get out of it?"

"A really fun time and a cool best friend: me," he answered with a laugh.

"Shut up," I muttered, though I couldn't help but grin.

"Get ready," he said. "I'll come over and help. I know you're clueless about party outfits."

"Excuse me?" I shot back, feigning offense.

"On the way," he said before hanging up.

---

Namjoon arrived a few minutes later, letting himself in with his usual energy.

"Alright, where are our candidates?" he asked, clapping his hands.

I pointed to the dresses hanging in my closet.

The first was a tight black dress, sleek and long with a high slit.

"Too long," he said with a shake of his head.

The next was a baby pink, flowy dress.

"Too cutesy."

I rolled my eyes and held up a white, shiny dress adorned with rhinestones.

"Are you dressing up as a disco ball?" he teased, making me laugh despite myself.

Finally, I pulled out a light pastel green, silky dress that hugged my body in all the right places while maintaining an elegant air.

Namjoon's jaw dropped slightly as he stared at me. "This is it. You're gorgeous," he said, still looking a little stunned.

I smiled shyly and began curling my hair, keeping my makeup natural with a soft, flushed look.

When I was done, I called Namjoon into the room.

"Okay, I'm ready," I said, gesturing for him to come in.

He walked in and froze, his eyes widening.

"Woah," he said.

"What?" I asked, tilting my head.

"You... you don't have your glasses," he said, his voice softer.

"I'm wearing contacts, silly," I replied with a small laugh.

Namjoon shook his head as if snapping out of a daze. "Alright, alright. Come on, let's go."

I glanced at the clock and sighed. "Can't believe it's already 9. It took us seven hours to get me ready!"

"Well, it was worth it," he said with a grin. "Let's party."

The party was already in full swing when Namjoon and I arrived. The bass of the music thumped loudly in my chest as I looked around, the crowd a chaotic blur of moving bodies and flashing lights.

"Hey, Joon? I'm gonna grab some drinks," I called out over the noise.

He nodded, already immersed in conversation with someone.

Weaving my way through the crowd, I was halfway to the bar when I accidentally bumped into a group of guys. The smell of cologne and alcohol was overpowering, and as I glanced up, my heart sank.

It was Jungkook.

And his friends.

"Hey, loverboy," one of them said with a grin, nudging Jungkook's arm. "Look, is that your girl?"

The group burst into laughter, their teasing loud and sharp.

Jungkook's ears turned red, and he hesitated before mumbling, "N-no."

His answer made something in me twist painfully, but before I could process it, one of his friends stepped closer, his smirk widening.

"How does it feel being one of Jungkook's bets?"

The words hit me like a freight train. My breath caught in my throat, and I turned to Jungkook, my vision blurry from the sting of unshed tears.

"Y/N—" he started, his voice panicked, but one of his friends grabbed his arm.

"Let her be," they said, laughing cruelly.

I yanked my arm away from the guy and hurried to the bar, my heart pounding so loudly that it drowned out the music.

Sitting on a stool, I poured alchohol into a red cup with shaky hands and took a large sip. The burn didn't matter. anything to dull the ache in my chest.

The hours blurred together. By the time I finished my ninth cup, the world spun hazily around me. I stumbled toward a couch, collapsing onto the soft cushions, my head buzzing.

Two men approached, their faces vaguely familiar from campus.

"Hey," one of them said, leaning in closer. "Aren't you the VP?"

I nodded drunkenly, unable to form a coherent response.

The other one grinned, his eyes lingering too long on me. "You don't seem like one right now."

I tried to laugh it off, but then I felt a hand on my leg, slowly creeping upward.

"Stop," I muttered weakly, but they ignored me.

"STOP!" I cried out, my voice breaking into a scream as I tried to push them away.

Before I could move, a fist flew past me, landing squarely on the guy's face. He stumbled back, clutching his jaw, and I blinked blearily as Jungkook stood in front of me, his chest rising and falling in anger.

"Touch her again, you punk," Jungkook growled, his voice low and dangerous before landing another punch.

Gasps rippled through the crowd as people turned to watch. Phones appeared, cameras flashing as whispers filled the room.

"Isn't that our VP?" "Don't they hate each other?" "What's going on?"

Jungkook turned to me, his face etched with concern as he grabbed my arm.

"Come on," he muttered, pulling me to my feet.

"Who brought you here?" he demanded, his voice sharp as we stepped outside into the cool night air.

"N-Namjoon," I mumbled, giggling drunkenly.

"Fuck," he hissed, running a hand through his hair. "How much did you drink?"

"I-I don't—" Before I could finish, my knees gave out, and I felt myself falling.

"Shit," Jungkook cursed, catching me just in time and scooping me into his arms bridal style.

As he carried me toward his car, I stirred slightly, my head lolling against his chest. "Do I love you?" I mumbled, my words slurring together.

Jungkook froze for a moment, his grip tightening on me.

"I should be mad at you for making me your bet," I slurred, tears streaming down my face. "But... I feel this weird feeling."

"Y/N—" he started, his voice soft, but I cut him off.

"I don't wanna love you, Jungkook," I cried, my words breaking with a sob. "I don't love you. I shouldn't."

My chest heaved as I buried my face against his shoulder. "Why do you do this? I'm so confused. I just wanna be the number one girl in your eyes," I whispered, my voice trembling.

"I hate this, Jungkook... I hate you," I muttered weakly, my tears soaking into his shirt as I finally succumbed to exhaustion.

Jungkook sighed heavily, his expression unreadable as he opened the car door and gently placed me in the passenger seat. He tucked the seatbelt around me, his movements careful and deliberate, before closing the door and walking around to the driver's side.

The car ride was a blur, punctuated only by the sound of my occasional hiccup and the faint sound of his playlist. When we finally reached my apartment, Jungkook wasted no time carrying me inside. His steps were careful, steady, as though he was trying not to move me too much.

He pushed the door open with his foot and gently set me down on the bed, brushing stray hair from my face as I muttered incoherently.

"Kook..." I mumbled, tugging weakly at the strap of my dress. "My dress. Please... undress it."

Jungkook froze, his ears turning red as he looked at me, flustered. "I can't," he said softly, his voice strained.

"Just close your eyes," I slurred, meeting his gaze drunkenly, my eyes half-lidded.

He hesitated for a long moment, his jaw tightening before he sighed, relenting. "Fine."

"Get up," he said, helping me sit up on the edge of the bed. I swayed slightly, leaning on him as I turned around. His hands hesitated at the zipper, his breath hitching.

"Y-you're not wearing a bra?" he stammered as the zipper came undone, the fabric loosening around me.

"The bra strap would make it ridiculous," I muttered, shrugging as though it were obvious.

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he tried to keep his eyes tightly shut. "You're unbelievable," he said under his breath.

He stood and moved to my closet, rummaging for something suitable to replace the dress. Finally, he pulled out a pair of shorts and one of his oversized shirts, a look of familiarity flickering in his eyes.

"C'mere," he said, his voice low but gentle.

I stumbled toward him, my bare shoulders brushing against his arm as he carefully helped me into the clothes. His hands worked quickly, his eyes still closed as he guided my arms through the sleeves of the shirt.

"There," he said once the task was done. "You're all set."

I flopped back onto the bed, letting out a tired sigh. But before I could sink into the mattress completely, Jungkook spoke again.

"Wait, your makeup," he said, reaching for the wipes on my bedside table.

I groaned but didn't resist as he sat beside me, his touch surprisingly delicate as he began to wipe away the remnants of my makeup. The cold wipe against my skin was oddly soothing, and I found myself watching him through half-closed eyes.

"Why do you do all this for me?" I slurred, my words heavy and unsteady.

Jungkook didn't look at me, his focus on carefully wiping away the smudged mascara. "Because I want to," he answered simply.

I tilted my head, frowning slightly. "How much did you get?"

"Huh?" he asked, his hand pausing mid-wipe.

"How much money did you win?" I repeated, my voice softer but sharper.

Realization dawned in his expression, and he looked away for a moment before muttering, "a hundred bucks."

I let out a drunken laugh, though there was no real humor in it. "Grab my wallet," I said, making his brows furrow in confusion.

"What?" he asked, staring at me as though I'd lost my mind.

"Go ahead. Grab my wallet," I insisted, giggling to myself as I added, "You won me, so I'll win myself again. I'll just buy myself back."

Jungkook froze, his jaw tightening as my words hung in the air.

"But you won me, too," he said softly, his tone laced with a faint teasing edge. "So I guess we both won each other."

I shook my head, my laughter fading. "But I didn't make you a bet," I said quietly, the ache in my chest seeping into my voice.

The words hit him like a blow, and I saw his expression falter, his stomach clearly twisting with guilt. He looked away, his grip on the makeup wipe tightening for a moment before he resumed cleaning my face.

"Are you wearing contacts?" he asked after a beat, his voice low but steady.

"Maybe," I muttered, my head lolling slightly as the alcohol swirled in my veins.

"Let me take them off," he said, his thumb gently pulling down my eyelid. His touch was careful as he removed the lenses one by one, leaving my eyes bare and vulnerable.

"You go sleep now, alright?" he said softly, brushing a hand through my hair.

I reached out weakly, tugging at his arm. "Can you... can you just hug me to sleep?" I asked, my voice small and trembling.

Jungkook froze, his body tensing under my grip. "Y/N..." he began, his voice hesitant.

"For the last time," I murmured, my eyes fluttering shut. "Before you go away."

His hesitation lingered in the air, but eventually, he relented. I felt the mattress dip as he lay down beside me, his arms wrapping around me carefully, tightly.

----

I woke up to a pounding headache, my head spinning as I slowly sat up. The sunlight streaming through the window felt like knives piercing through my skull, and I groaned, rubbing my temples.

As I shifted in bed, I noticed the fabric of the shirt I was wearing. It wasn't mine.

It was Jungkook's.

The oversized shirt hung loosely on me, the faint scent of his cologne still clinging to the fabric. My breath hitched as I brought it closer to my nose, the smell both comforting and suffocating at the same time.

Did he come here? How did I get home?

I tried to piece together the fragments of the previous night, but my memory was hazy. I reached for my phone on the bedside table, the screen lighting up with notifications.

And there it was.

The first video was blurry but unmistakable. Jungkook stood in the middle of a crowd, his fists clenched as he towered over a guy on the couch.

"Touch her again, you punk," his voice growled through the speakers.

The bystanders gasped as Jungkook pulled me up, his arm protectively around my waist.

I scrolled further, finding another video. This time, it was of him carrying me in a bridal style, weaving through the crowd.

The audio was faint, but I could just make out my own drunken voice slurring, "Do I love you?"

Jungkook froze for a moment in the video, his face tightening as he looked at me.

I groaned loudly, burying my face in my hands. "ARGH!" I yelled, the sound echoing in my empty apartment.

I threw the phone onto the bed, pacing the room in frustration.

----

I had barely stepped onto campus when the student council secretary approached me, her expression a mix of pity and worry.

"Hey, Pres is calling for you," she said, her voice low. "You should go to the office."

My heart sank. I shut my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to prepare for whatever storm was waiting for me.

----

Walking into the student council office felt like stepping into a courtroom. Our president was seated behind the desk, her arms crossed, her expression one of pure fury.

"Hello—" I began hesitantly, but before I could finish, she slammed her phone onto the table with a loud thud, cutting me off.

"Y/N, are you fucking kidding me?" she snapped, her voice sharp enough to make me flinch.

She picked up her phone and shoved the screen toward me. There it was: the video of Jungkook punching the guy and carrying me out of the party.

"I know—" I tried to defend myself, but she didn't let me finish.

"First, you ditch our project meetings for three days, and now you're trending all over school being associated with Jeon Jungkook!" Her voice was rising with every word.

I swallowed hard, guilt pooling in my stomach.

"Do you even realize what this could do to our school's reputation? You're a VP, for fuck's sake, Y/N. Act like it!"

I stared down at the floor, the weight of her words pressing down on me. "Pres, I'm sorry," I murmured weakly.

Her glare didn't soften. "You'll be the one delivering the speech this Friday. Have you prepared everything?"

"Yes, Pres. I have. I'll email you everything today, I promise," I said quickly, hoping to salvage what little trust she had left in me.

She leaned back in her chair, her gaze still hard. "Why were you absent?"

"I, um... I was sick," I lied, trying to keep my voice steady.

Her eyes narrowed, and she scoffed. "Lies."

Reaching for her phone again, she swiped a few times before holding it up to me. "Have you seen Jeon Jungkook's Instagram?"

My heart sank further as I stared at the screen. The feed was filled with pictures from Busan—our trip to Busan.

I swiped through the photos, each one hitting me harder than the last.

The first was a picture of me asleep in Jungkook's arms, my face soft and peaceful against his chest.

The second showed me helping his mom set the dinner table, a smile on my face as I handed her a plate.

The third was of the beach. A candid shot of me laughing, the ocean behind me, my hair wild from the wind.

And then there was the last picture.

It was a candid shot of Jungkook and me. We were standing close, our faces inches apart, like we were about to kiss. The caption underneath read: "My number one girl."

I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

A part of me fluttered with a strange mix of happiness and flustered confusion. But that fleeting warmth was quickly crushed by the weight of reality.

Was this just for his bet?

The thought tore through me, leaving my heart aching.

The president sighed, snapping me back to the present.

"This is unacceptable, Y/N," she said, her tone cold. "You're supposed to represent the school, not become some tabloid headline."

I nodded numbly, my voice barely above a whisper. "I understand."

"Fix this," she ordered, her words final as she dismissed me with a wave of her hand.

I turned and walked out of the office, my legs shaky beneath me. The hallways felt suffocating, every student's gaze like a spotlight on me. The whispered rumors, the muffled laughs all of it rang in my ears.

How could he do this?

I walked into class, my head still pounding from the events of the morning. As I slumped into my seat, Namjoon turned toward me, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Told you I shouldn’t have gone," I snapped, shooting him a glare. "Now I’m screwed."

Namjoon’s smile disappeared, and he clasped his hands together in a mock plea. "Y/N, I’m really, really sorry. I swear I will never invite you to another party again."

"You mean to not leave me alone at one," I retorted sharply, crossing my arms.

Namjoon winced, nodding. "I was trying to find you, but by the time I did, Jungkook was already there."

I sighed, shaking my head at him. "Alright. Just... don’t let it happen again."

He leaned closer, nudging my arm gently. "So, is it true? Did you ditch your project meetings to go on a trip with Jungkook?"

I glared at him again. "Say another word about that, and you’re dead."

Namjoon raised his hands in surrender, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he turned back to his notebook.

During class, I discretely checked my phone under the desk, ignoring the lesson for a moment. My notifications glared back at me, drawing my attention to Jungkook’s messages from the night before.

Yesterday, 11:03 PM Jakay: Y/N... I’m sorry. Jakay: Can we talk about this? Jakay: I’ll explain everything after the party.

Seen. Blocks.

I locked my phone, shoving it into my pocket and forcing my focus back to the lesson.

After school, I trudged back to my apartment, exhausted and emotionally drained.

"I want ice cream," I muttered to myself as I walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer. My eyes immediately landed on the mint chocolate ice cream Jungkook had bought for me.

As I pulled it out, a small note stuck to the lid caught my attention. The handwriting was unmistakable.

"I love you. I’m sorry."

I stared at the note for a moment, my chest tightening. Then, without a second thought, I crumpled it up and threw it into the trash. My hands trembled as I opened the ice cream aggressively, shoving a spoon into it and taking a large bite.

---

I had just started to feel slightly at ease when my phone buzzed.

Unknown: Y/N, I’m sorry. Unknown: You probably don’t want to talk to me ever. Unknown: I was really genuine about bringing you to Busan to introduce you to my mom. Unknown: I won’t bother you again. Unknown: Good luck with your speech at Foundation Day. :)

I clenched my jaw, my fingers trembling as I began typing a reply.

Me: If you were really genuine, you wouldn’t have posted me on your IG when you knew what could happen. Me: I thought we agreed to not associate with each other in public. Me: I thought it would be a social suicide for you. Me: Unless you were really desperate for that bet money that you had to drag my school life into this, knowing I’m on the student board, a VP. Me: Fix this, because I’m not apologizing or cleaning up a mess I didn’t make. Me: Goodbye.

Seen.

---

The following days were filled with avoidance.

Flowers left outside my door? Ignored. Chocolates with handwritten notes? Straight to the trash. Mint chocolate ice creams? Untouched in the freezer.

I threw myself into student council work, directing Foundation Day projects with single-minded focus. By the time I finally got home each night, I was too exhausted to think about anything or anyone else.

It was the night before Foundation Day. I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, my body aching from the day’s work. The clock read 10:34 PM, and I was just about to fall asleep when my phone buzzed.

An unknown number.

I ignored it, but it rang again moments later. With a sigh, I picked up.

"Hello?" I said, my voice groggy and annoyed.

"Do you know Jungkook?" an unfamiliar voice asked, urgency lacing their words.

"Yes, why?" I replied, sitting up.

"Can you come to euphoria Club, please? It’s urgent," the man pleaded.

Alarm bells rang in my head. I quickly threw on a cardigan over my Hello Kitty pajamas and ordered an Uber, my heart pounding with worry the entire ride there.

---

The club was chaotic when I arrived, the music blasting so loud I could feel it in my chest. I pushed through the crowd, calling out his name.

"Jungkook!"

"Here!" someone called out, waving their hand.

I hurried toward the voice, finding Taehyung and a few of Jungkook’s other friends standing near a slouched figure.

"Y/N...?" Taehyung’s voice trailed off, surprised as I brushed past him to Jungkook.

"Kook?" I said softly, kneeling beside him. "Come on, let’s go home."

He looked up at me, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "I’m sorry, Y/N..." he muttered drunkenly, leaning forward to hug me. "I really am. I fucked up."

"Can you drive?" Yoongi asked, his face serious.

I nodded. "Help me pick him up."

Together, we managed to get Jungkook to his car. He was barely coherent, slurring his words as I buckled him into the passenger seat.

As I drove, Jungkook chuckled weakly to himself, his head lolling against the window.

"I like this girl so much," he mumbled, his words slurred but clear enough. "But she’s still so clueless and confused about it, but i think she's just convincing herself she doesn't want me"

I gripped the wheel tighter, pretending not to care.

"She’s really pretty and smart, y’know?" he continued, his voice soft and wistful.

He paused for a moment before letting out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, I won the bet... but I lost her."

My chest tightened at his words.

"So basically, I lost," he said, shaking his head and pressing his palm to his forehead.

"You can’t have both," I replied softly, focusing on the road.

"Why did I even pick the bet over her?" he muttered, more to himself than to me.

When we reached his apartment, I gently guided him to the couch. He leaned heavily on me, his movements sluggish.

As I turned to leave, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist.

"I missed you," he murmured, pulling me into a hug.

I froze, his words hanging in the air as his grip slackened and he drifted off to sleep.

With a sigh, I glanced at the clock on my phone: 1:00 AM.

I stayed where I was, sitting beside him on the couch. Exhaustion overtook me, and before I knew it, I had fallen asleep, too.

--

The shrill blare of my alarm yanked me from sleep, and I groggily blinked at the time.

"Shit!" I shot up, panic surging through me as the realization hit.

"Jungkook! Jungkook!" I shook him awake, my voice urgent.

He stirred, rubbing his eyes before looking at me with a mix of confusion. "What? What’s going on?"

"Please, please drive me to my apartment—quickly!" I said, already scrambling to gather my things. "Today’s Foundation Day!"

That seemed to snap him out of his half-asleep state. "Fuck," he muttered, getting up in a rush to grab his car keys.

"Wait!" I stopped him, heading for his bag. I found the painkillers I knew he’d need and poured a glass of water from the kitchen. "Take this first," I said, holding the pill and water out to him.

He downed it quickly, nodding as he grabbed his jacket and motioned for me to follow.---

We sped through the streets in his car.

"Fuck, fuck," I muttered under my breath, tapping my foot nervously.

"I’m sorry—fuck," Jungkook muttered, his voice tense as he focused on the road.

When we finally reached my apartment, I leaped out of the car, hurriedly grabbing my things. I barely had time to thank him as I rushed inside to get ready.

The next thirty minutes were a disaster. I applied my makeup with practiced speed, slipping into my carefully chosen pretty outfit for the day.

Jungkook had followed me inside to clean up as well, and when I emerged, I found him waiting by the door, dressed sharply in a casual outfit.

"You ready?" he asked, his voice steady despite the chaos of the morning.

"Yeah. Let’s go!" I said, grabbing his arm as we rushed back to the car and sped toward school.

---

The field was already bustling with activity when we arrived, the energy of Foundation Day in full swing. As we hurried across the field, I could feel dozens of eyes on us, whispers trailing in our wake.

"Why are they running together?" "Isn’t that Jungkook?" "What’s going on?"

I ignored the murmurs, my focus solely on making it to the stage in time.

"Okay, just sit there!" I pointed to a chair in the front row near the stage, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Jungkook nodded, taking the seat as I hurried backstage.

Minutes before my speech, the student council president found me, her arms crossed and her expression tense.

"What was that?" she hissed, her voice low but accusatory. "Why were you with Jungkook again?"

"Just... please," I said, my voice weary. "I’m exhausted. Can we not do this right now?"

She narrowed her eyes but said nothing more, stepping aside as my name was called.

Taking a deep breath, I walked onto the stage, my heels clicking against the polished wood as I approached the podium. The field quieted as all eyes turned toward me.

I smiled warmly, gathering my thoughts before speaking.

"Good morning, everyone! Honorable principal, respected teachers, esteemed guests, fellow students, and everyone gathered here today, it is an honor to stand before you on this remarkable occasion, our school’s 14th Foundation Day.

Today, we celebrate not just the number of years but the legacy of excellence, growth, and community that has brought us to this moment.

Foundation Day is not just about celebrating the past; it is about envisioning the future. Let us take this opportunity to commit ourselves to uphold the values of our school and work together to make it an even better place. Let’s aim higher, support one another, and leave a legacy for the generations to come.

Thank you, and happy Foundation Day!"

I finished with a smile, my voice steady and confident. The crowd erupted into applause, and the energy was electric as cheers filled the air.

As I stepped back from the podium, scanning the crowd, my gaze landed on one person.

Jungkook.

He was seated exactly where I had told him to sit, his eyes locked on mine. His lips curved into a small, proud smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

For a moment, the chaos of the morning, the lingering hurt, and the whispers of the crowd all faded. It was just him and me.

With my heart feeling lighter than it had in days, I left the stage, exchanging one last look with him before disappearing backstage.

It was a few hours after the speech when Jungkook found me, tugging me gently by the wrist to lead me somewhere private. We stopped in a quiet corner of the campus, away from peoples eyes and curious whispers.

"Look, I want to explain everything," he started, his voice unsteady but determined.

I crossed my arms, tilting my head as I waited for him to continue.

"Taehyung my friend did a really stupid bet," he began, his words spilling out like he’d been rehearsing them. "He said if I could get you to like me, I’d win a hundred bucks. But during the bet, I realized..." He hesitated, running a hand through his hair nervously. "I realized I wanted you too- fuck- no, I loved you too-"

I cut him off with a raised eyebrow and a small, amused chuckle. "Who said I loved you too?"

Jungkook froze, his mouth slightly agape, before I waved him off with a smile. "Okay, sorry. Go on," I said, letting him finish.

He took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. "At first, I really just wanted to win the bet. But the longer it went on, the more..." He trailed off, his hands gesturing helplessly. "My brain just went blank-crazy every time I looked at you. I enjoyed teasing you, making you mad at me, just so you’d keep talking to me. And I really, really am so sorry for everything. for making you feel betrayed, sad, confused-"

He looked down, his voice quieter now. "I can’t believe it took something as stupid as this bet to make me realize what I felt about you." A weak chuckle escaped his lips.

I softened slightly, watching him as he fidgeted.

Jungkook reached out, gently taking my hand in his. "I have to admit... at first, I was ashamed." He hesitated, his gaze flickering up to meet mine. "Ashamed of being friends with the VP. I was a coward, scared of something I couldn’t even explain. But now? All I want to do is kiss you in front of everyone and let them judge us."

His words hung in the air, heavy with vulnerability and sincerity.

I gave him a small smile, shaking my head. "Kissing me in public would only make the rumors worse, Jungkook. It could get us in trouble for committing inappropriate acts at school, you know," I said with a teasing edge, my lips curving into a grin.

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Also," he added, his voice softer now, "the hot, smart girlfriend I was talking about to my brother..." He paused, his cheeks flushing slightly. "It was you."

I raised an eyebrow, tilting my head. "Who said I was your girlfriend?"

His head snapped up, his face a mixture of confusion and panic. "Huh?"

"You can’t just hurt me like that and think you’ll get it easily," I said with a smirk, my eyes sparkling with mischief.

Realization dawned on his face, and he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You’ll have to earn me again," I added, turning my gaze away from him, pretending to inspect my nails.

Jungkook laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. "Alright. I deserve that."

"Also, you can’t get both," I continued, my grin widening. "So, give me the hundred bucks."

He blinked at me, then burst out laughing. "Alright, fine. I’ll Venmo it to you later," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Then, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Can I kiss you?"

I leaned back just a little, raising an eyebrow. "Too fast," I teased, scrunching my nose playfully.

Instead, I offered him my hand. He smiled, taking it and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it, his eyes never leaving mine.

drabbles?

this is literally a rushed lazy fic cuz i was bored. crazy i even made it to 14k word count

will be making a jks pov ver named "number 1 party anthem" tihii.

this isn't actually proof read sooo yeah just tell me what i missed.

[anantaru]

Hear me out, your Genshin faves when you hold back your moans✨🧚🏽‍♀️

including. heizou & lyney

cw. teasing, you're a lil bratty, fem! reader

— heizou

"hey!" a subdued, hushed yelp sharply cuts across your ear shells when heizou suddenly stills his hips on you, cock throbbing inside your silky warmth grabbing him all at once— and notably enough, you're quite aware as to why he's doing it, knowing full on well that he has already recognized that you're again, playing filthy little tricks and hiding your delicious, soft moans only for him to become all bewildered by it, yet twisted right afterwards when seeing a new challenge turning his direct way.

he swiftly adds onto his previous words, cupping your cheek with his palm before pushing his hips into you closer, deeper and more ruthless, this time adding small, little hits against your puffy cunt, placing you in another hard situation, one that made it all the more difficult for you to hide your precious moans.

"don‘t do that." he kisses your nose, stumbling a bit over his own words when he feels how you're clamping down on his shaft, your lips puckered back into a smile which you weren't able to conceal, not when he's becoming this cute and eager to have you scream his name at the top of your lungs, "don‘t hide yourself from me."

and you're liking his ways of watching you close, his gaze softly flickering down to your exposed, of his saliva damped, tits and heizou lingers back to your collarbones right after, adding a kiss on the quivering skin, until reaching the shape of your beautiful mouth with his bewitching eyes never leaving you once.

"i'm not." you claim and suck in a breath through your teeth when he fastens his hips again, drilling himself all the way into your cunt before keeping his shaft buried there, salivating over the feeling of your hole cockwarming and milking him dry— if anything should go noticed, it's his huge self control showing itself to you, that no matter what, he'll always triumph over whatever innocent scheme you had planned.

albeit, heizou does it again, quickly wiggling his hips before pressing his cock in small, toe curling pushes, traveling waves of him targeting your pulsing spots vibrating through your skin, digging into your most desired places that your palms began to aimlessly scratch at his shoulders, once, twice— having a groan rumble in his throat, when you too, gasp out a wet moan, already forgetting about what you had planned to do this entire night.

"there it is.." he smirks, and how dearly you wanted to wipe that expression off his face, his breath hot against your wet lips only adding to the twitching in your core when he's easing his cock back before making you take him again. the burning stretch on your cunt a lovely one, one you're eager to feel inside, your body reacting as if you're floating by the indulgence of being pleasured so fucking fine, so fucking delirious.

"that's how i like it."

— lyney

who would've possibly thought that lyney‘s beautiful princess would turn out to be such a little, teasing devil sometimes, of course, he taught you well, most likely too well— especially when he craved to hear your moans and hiccuped whines, the man just had to catch them, witness them with his own senses as he's twitching inside your pussy.

when you cry out his name, he's done for, it makes him even hornier to begin with, thirstier to drill his fat cock faster into you while he's sucking on your nipples like a mad man.

"oh?" chasteness, or the simulation of innocence, but lyney leans his body down to brush his lips over your own puckered up ones, the raging knot in your tensed stomach although gradually tightening— you were still determined enough to have your boyfriend fooled, only for a bit and on how much was possible.

"you‘re doing it again, my love." at the current state of now, lyney cocks a brow at you and gathers your breasts in his palms, closing two fingers against your erected nipples. you know you're not going to break him, have him fooled, but the dwindling idea of making it just a little bit harder was good enough for you to proceed in your scheme.

"i'm doing what baby?" you bite back your lips at him in flawless fashion, your thighs squeezing against his hips as you indulge in the lewd sounds of lyney whining out right above you— you're so unbelievably tight and there's nothing he wanted to do more than have himself engulfed in you, maybe cum inside you too, only to mark his territory further on. but your eyes widen when his fingers promptly explore down the curves of your frame, right above your sensitive clit, smoothly tugging and twisting the reactive flesh in combination with the weight of his cock swelling in you.

"fuck." gently, he prods his shaft further— in and out, in and out, "you know exactly what i mean."  and you could notice the rush of his blood thickening in his shaft more alertly, it's so impossibly heavy inside your cunt you fear you're about to cry out from the pressure, and how deliciously it was sheathed in your body, his thumbs still pressed on your clit, digging into the muscle as he lightly nibbles on your bottom lip.

"ah, no matter." he speaks in unhurried tunes, your liquids slicked around his erection as he fucks into your little hole, " you know i won't stop, right? not before i can hear you."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[screamingoverfiction]

Sleeping In

Fred Weasley x f!-reader. No house mentioned. 18+ smut ahead minors DNI!!

Also, I'm sorry for disappearing, I was stressed, and writer's block took its toll! Hopefully, I'll be able to do a request I have sitting in my drafts.

Word Count: 2.24k

--------

"Oi, George, where's your sodding twin?" Y/n shouted, throwing her hands in the air as she entered the Gryffindor common room.

"Er, I think he's still in the dorm," George replied, nodding toward the stairs. The younger twin was sitting on the couch, playing cards with a few other students, his girlfriend Angelina resting her head on his shoulder.

Y/n huffed annoyedly, mumbling incoherently as she ascended the stairs, her nostrils flaring.

She reached the twins' dorm in no time, turning the knob and stepping inside, flicking the light switch.

"Ah, fuck me," A voice cried out, which Y/n immediately recognized as Fred's.

"Rise and shine fuckface," Y/n spoke, grabbing a random jumper off the floor and chucking it at Fred, who was busy rubbing away the sleep from his eyes.

The cloth hit him directly in the face, making him reel back.

"Ow," Fred mumbled, yawning again and blinking a few times.

"You were supposed to meet me in the library an hour ago," Y/n said, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to her hip.

"Shit. Did I sleep that long?" Fred said, his eyes widening. He looked at his nightstand, and the small clock read 11:23 am.

"Fuck," He mumbled, running a hand through his hair and glimpsing at Y/n, flashing her an embarrassed smile.

Y/n just rolled her eyes with a sigh, running her tongue along her cheek. She walked over to the curtains, pulling them open and letting the light shine in.

Fred cringed from the brightness, sitting up with his back against the frame, admiring her from behind, sucking in a sharp breath.

Y/n turned around, her eyes widening slightly as she saw him.

He was shirtless, his muscles on full display, wearing only his plaid pajama pants beneath the covers. His red hair was messily falling over his forehead, and his eyes were still drowsy with sleep.

She quickly looked away, her eyes focusing on everything but him, the curtains, his dresser, the wall.

After all, they were only friends.

"Get dressed and meet me in the library," Y/n said, starting to walk to the door.

As she walked by, his hand wrapped around her wrist, tugging her down on top of him.

A light gasp escaped her lips when his hands found themselves tightly grasping her hips, steadying her on his lap.

"I didn't mean to oversleep," He spoke softly, his eyes a pool of warm brown as they stared at her.

Y/n couldn't say a word, her mouth was open, but no sound came out, and her heart was beating a million miles an hour. She feared he could hear the rapidness.

"I did actually get up, brushed my teeth and everything, but then I took a...'five-minute nap.'"

"I looked like an idiot waiting for you," Y/n whispered. Her breath was shaky, full of nerves. She just now noticed her hand placement, both on either side of his neck by his collarbones, but he didn't seem to mind. Her legs straddled his waist, and the only thing separating them was the thin covers.

Fred let out a dry, breathy laugh. His eyes flickered to her lips before he lifted his gaze to hers.

Slowly, his hand raised to cup her face, his thumb gently tracing her cheek, making her inhale sharply.

His pupils were blown with what seemed to be lust and desire, and his eyes bore into hers, hesitant yet yearning.

Y/n's core burned with intense heat, her mind told her to back away, to save their friendship while she could, but her body's urge was far more powerful.

"Allow me to apologize," He said quietly, swallowing thickly as he gradually leaned forward, his hand still gently holding her face.

Y/n closed her eyes as his lips brushed against hers. With her lips trembling softly, she closed the gap.

Their lips met in a soft kiss. It was timid, slow, sensual, the calm before a raging storm.

Fred sighed against her lips, bringing his hand to the back of her head and drawing her closer, deepening their kiss.

Y/n leaned into him, her nails digging into his skin as she gripped his strong shoulder. Her other hand traveled to his jaw, holding it tightly.

A soft whimper-like gasp left her lips as Fred's free hand snaked under her shirt, his warm fingers brushing against the cool skin of her waist.

Like a bolt of lightning, desire shot through his spine from the noise. His tongue clashed with hers, and soft moans escaped their lips as the kiss dragged on.

"Fuck," Fred groaned, wanting nothing more than to rip off her clothes and ravage her completely. Hear her cry out his name as he fucked her into the mattress.

"Freddie," Y/n breathed, both of her hands now laced in his hair, lightly tugging it.

"Y/n, fuck. Can I?" Fred said, his fingers toying with the bottom of her black shirt.

She didn't hesitate to nod her head, a chorus of yeses quickly escaping her lips.

Fred lifted the fabric up and over her head, briefly disconnecting their lips.

Y/n didn't give herself time to feel ashamed, instead opting to connect their lips before he could scan her body.

Fred's fingers danced over her hips and around to her back, sliding upwards toward her bra clip.

If he died from kissing her lips, he'd die happy. There was no other taste in the world that could ever amount to her. She was the finest meal of them all.

"Can-"

"Yes, please," Her words came out in a whispering whine, a plead. She knew there was no going back to how things were, but hell, she didn't want that anymore.

Fred smiled, softly biting her bottom lip, kissing her passionately as he swiftly unclipped her bra.

He tossed it off the bed, pulling away from her lips and casting his eyes down.

If possible, his pupils expanded even more. He was so full of desire and passion that he felt he might explode.

Her body was perfect, exquisitely, and seemingly made purely for him.

Y/n could feel the shame rising on her cheeks. She felt the world slowly swallow her in the seconds before he responded.

"Bloody hell. You're so beautiful," Fred murmured, his lips attaching to her throat, kissing and biting downwards, making sure he left marks.

Y/n let out a soft gasp as he trailed further down, her head knocking back when he started on her breasts.

"Oh fuck," She whispered, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut as his lips thoroughly covered her nipples and breasts in hickeys.

"You look so fucking pretty covered in my marks," He said, smiling against her neck, kissing the sweet spot below her ear.

Y/n laced her fingers in his short red hair, breathing heavily, subconsciously rutting herself against him, searching for some sort of friction.

She hastily sat straighter, pulling the thin covers back and straddling him completely, feeling his erection through the cloth of his trousers.

Her lips found him again, and it was her turn to scatter love bites along his skin, which she did without hesitation.

Her teeth nipped and marked the skin around his throat, leaving a skillfully placed hickey just below his jaw visible to everyone.

"Making me yours, I see," Fred mumbled teasingly, his hand now drifting to her arse, head knocked back in pleasure.

"Not like you didn't do the same," She replied breathlessly, pulling back to admire her work, tracing her fingers over the various marks on his neck and jaw.

Fred smirked, taking her chin in his hand and dragging her back to his lips, kissing her deeply.

"Do I look pretty?" He asked, a hint of mischief in his voice.

"Very," Y/n answered, gasping as his hand ran over her arse, stopping at the waistband of her sweats.

"Take them off," She says before he can even ask, already assisting him in sliding them down, kicking them off and away from the bed.

Y/n's fingers hooked into the hem of his trousers. He soon helped her take them off and quickly discard them with the rest of their clothes.

Her panties were next. Fred practically ripped them off her legs, too impatient for anything else.

The cold air hit her bare pussy, and she shivered, but as soon as his warm body touched hers, her mind was clouded yet again.

She wasted no time taking off his boxers as well, the bubbling warmth in her core only growing larger when his large erection brushed against her inner thigh, teasing her.

"Do you- Do you have-" Y/n started to ask, but he cut her off.

"Top drawer to the left," Fred said quickly, an audible displeased groan leaving his lips when she pulled back.

Y/n would've rolled her eyes at his whines, but she was too wrapped up in lust to even care.

She opened the top drawer, took a condom from the box, and handed it to Fred.

He ripped it open with his teeth, spitting the plastic out and carefully sliding the latex over his aching cock.

Y/n could do nothing but stare and drool, the mere sight of him making her cunt clench in anticipation.

He was half propped on his elbow, one hand traveling to her neck, pulling her lips to his while the other held her by the hip.

Y/n kissed him deeply, aligning his cock with her entrance and slowly lowering herself onto it, breathing rapidly.

Airy moans left both their lips as he bottomed out, her tight muscles clenching around him.

The covers were hanging off her lower back, but she didn't care. There was no way in hell she would get cold.

His warm body pressed against hers as she started rocking her hips. Chest to chest, their bodies worked together, his hand on her back, pressing her further into him, her hand on his bicep, nails digging into his muscles as she moved.

"Ah- fuck, just like that, love," Fred groaned, his handsome features scrunched in pleasure.

He looked down to see where they connected, her back arching ever so slightly to take him all, her perfect pussy stretched around his cock.

He was able to hit every perfect place inside her, rutting against her g-spot, sending waves of pleasure shooting up Y/n's spine.

But oh fuck, he needed to be deeper, needed her moaning and mewling his name like it was a prayer.

So without missing a beat, he flipped their positions, her legs locking around his torso as he started thrusting.

She wrapped her arms around him, encasing him closely, their chests still touching.

"You're so good for me, angel, taking my cock so well," He grunted, breathing heavily from the sensation of her walls clenching around him.

His thrusts weren't overly rough, but they didn't need to be. He didn't want to fuck her. No, he wanted to love her, cherish her body like the temple it was, and make her cry out in intense pleasure as she came on his cock.

"Freddie," She whimpered, arching her back to meet his thrusts, each perfectly timed. Tears of euphoria welled in her eyes, starting to slowly drip and roll down her cheeks as her orgasm quickly approached.

He looked so pretty above her, eyes closed in pleasure, messy hair, the freckles dotting his pale skin shining from the droplets of sweat trickling down his body.

His forehead rested against hers, fingers digging into her waist as he chased his climax. His breathing became more labored and rapid with every passing second.

Y/n felt the knot in her stomach coiling, the bubble of heat ready to pop with just a few more thrusts.

"Fred, I'm so close," She whispered, pushing her body closer to him, back arching off the bed.

"Fuck, me too. Come for me, Y/n," He said, his warm breath tickling her neck, the sensation sending her over the edge.

Her orgasm washed over her in waves of immense pleasure, lightning in her veins, a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. Her legs shook, and her core was on fire, burning through the high as she came with his name on her tongue, crying it out.

Fred finished a few moments after, his hips sputtering as he filled the condom, his stomach burning with heat and pleasure.

The first few moments after having sex with someone new are the most pivotal. They decide if it's a one-time thing or something more.

Fred swallowed, resting his forehead against hers and sighing deeply, trying to catch his breath.

Y/n's hand wrapped around his neck, lacing in his hair. She smiled softly when he let out a breathy laugh. The sound was always music to her ears.

"I think I need to sleep in more often," Fred whispered, pulling his head back to connect their gazes, admiring her fucked out appearance, bruised lips, hickeys everywhere, and dried lines of tears running down her cheeks. She was beautiful.

"I think..." Y/n breathed, propping herself on her elbows and cupping his face in her hands.

"I could go for another apology," She finished, a smirk toying on her lips.

A shit-eating grin spanned across Fred's lips, his eyes lighting up at her insinuation.

"If I ever say no to that, kill me,"

----

Hope you enjoyed! If there are spelling/grammar mistakes, I'm sorry. I wrote this at like 1 am.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Misery (logan One Shot)

Summary: Logan blames you for a lot of your own misery

Warnings: Angst, rough commication

WC: 1.1K

Read on Ao3!

The rain poured relentlessly outside the small cabin, each droplet tapping against the window like a thousand whispered reminders of everything you had lost. You sat by the fire, arms wrapped around yourself, feeling colder inside than the storm raging beyond the walls. It was supposed to be different this time. You had told yourself that over and over again. But now, as the night crept in, you realized that nothing had really changed.

And that’s when you heard it—the door creaking open, the familiar heavy footsteps, water dripping from boots you didn’t need to look at to recognize.

Logan.

You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t face him yet. The weight of your words sat heavy on your chest, the confession you had been holding back for far too long. He was silent behind you, but you could feel him watching you, feel the tension crackling in the air between you like lightning ready to strike.

“Y/N,” his voice was rough, the way it always was, like gravel scraping against the bottom of a whiskey glass. “We need to talk.”

You swallowed hard, keeping your gaze fixed on the fire. “There’s nothing left to talk about, Logan.”

He stepped closer, but you still couldn’t look at him. The room felt too small, like it couldn’t hold the weight of both your pain and his. He always carried so much darkness with him, and for so long, you had tried to shoulder it too. But it was breaking you.

“There’s a lot to talk about,” he insisted, his voice dipping lower, the frustration already starting to edge in. “You’ve been pullin’ away, and you won’t tell me why.”

You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms as you tried to keep your voice steady. “I didn’t need to tell you. You already knew.”

He stopped moving, his breath hitching in his chest. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

Finally, you turned to face him, the firelight casting a warm glow on his features. He looked tired, like he always did, carrying the weight of the world on his broad shoulders. But this time, he wasn’t just tired. He looked… lost.

“I’ve been miserable,” you whispered, the words trembling on your lips. “For months, Logan. And I still love you. You've made me feel so lonely and miserable lately.”

His eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he processed what you had said. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, like he wasn’t sure what to say, how to defend himself against the truth you had laid bare. You’d always been the one person who could disarm him, and tonight was no different.

“You’re miserable?” he asked, voice thick with emotion he was trying so hard to keep in check. “You think I don’t know what that’s like? You think this is easy for me?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you replied, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. “I know your life is hard. I’ve seen the things you carry with you every day. But Logan, you shut me out. You don’t let me in anymore.”

He stared at you, those piercing amber eyes searching yours for something—an answer, forgiveness, understanding. But you had none left to give.

“You think I wanna be like this?” he snapped, voice rising. “I don’t get a choice. I got demons, Y/N. Demons that don’t leave me alone no matter what I do. You knew that when you got involved with me.”

“I did know,” you shot back, your voice breaking. “But I didn’t know that you’d use those demons as an excuse to push me away! Every time I tried to help, you shut me down. I’ve been here, Logan. Right here, waiting for you to let me in, but all you did was pull away further. You weren’t just miserable, you made me miserable too.”

The words hung heavy in the air between you, both of you breathing hard from the intensity of the confrontation. Logan’s expression faltered, his tough exterior cracking just for a second, revealing the vulnerability underneath. But it was fleeting, quickly masked by the anger and frustration he always defaulted to when things got too hard.

“So what, you’re sayin’ it’s my fault? I never asked you to stay,” he growled, turning away from you, fists clenched at his sides.

That hit you harder than you expected. The words knocked the wind out of you, and you had to take a moment to gather yourself, to stop the tears threatening to spill. He could be so cruel when he was angry, even when he didn’t mean to be.

“No, you never asked me to stay,” you whispered, voice shaking. “But I did. Because I loved you. Even when it hurt, even when I couldn’t breathe because of how much it hurt, I stayed. For you.”

Logan’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him as quickly as it had ignited. He stood there, back turned to you, silent. For a moment, you thought he might just leave—walk out into the rain like he always did when things got too heavy, too real. But this time, he didn’t move.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, raw. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to let you in without hurtin’ you.”

You stepped closer, feeling the pain in his words, the truth in them. “I don’t need you to be perfect, Logan. I never needed that. I just needed you to try.”

He turned to look at you, and for the first time in what felt like months, he wasn’t hiding behind his anger, or his guilt, or his fear. He was just… Logan. The man you had fallen in love with, even when it felt like the world was falling apart around you both.

“I was miserable,” you repeated softly, stepping closer until you could feel the warmth of his body, despite the distance still between you. “And I still loved you. But I can’t keep doing this if you’re not willing to try. I can’t love you alone.”

His eyes softened, and he reached out, his hand brushing against yours. “I don’t want you to be miserable, darlin’,” he murmured. “I never wanted that.”

“I know,” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek as you squeezed his hand. “But you have to decide if you want me to stay. Because I can’t do this if we’re both broken.”

Logan’s thumb traced the back of your hand, his roughness tempered by a gentleness that was so rare, so fleeting. “I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up at him, your heart aching with the weight of everything you both had been through. “Then don’t.”

This one-shot dives into the raw emotions of a fractured relationship, with both characters feeling the weight of their shared struggles, and the pain of love that isn’t always enough to mend what’s broken.