#your fic was soooo good and I’m absolutely in love with it!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
ahhrenata · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
for @hamartia-grander ‘s fic Another Time 🧡
this scene in the epilogue got me 🙃 i love them.
1K notes · View notes
kashverse · 4 months ago
Note
can you make a fic about babykuna being a mommys girl, like shes all soft and sweet and like a baby with mommy, and a little menace with her papa
the duality of miss babykuna must be studied. because with you, aka kunamama, aka the love of her little life, she is an angel. an absolute sweetheart.
she proudly parades around in the outfits you put together for her, giggling as she twirls in the mirror, her little voice echoing, "mama, we match!"
she shows you her good marks in school before showing them to anyone else, clutching the paper in her tiny hands as she beams up at you. "look, mama! i did so good! are you proud?"
she wisely sits next to you whenever you're getting ready—whether for a night out or just to bed—watching you with wide, adoring eyes. "mama, when i get big, i wanna be just like you."
your little angel.
but with dadkuna? aka kunapapa? aka ryomen sukuna?
…it’s like something demonic is awakened. like a switch is flipped.
"papa, you won’t believe what happened today."
sukuna barely glances up from his glass of whiskey, lounging on the couch with his arm lazily draped over the backrest. "yeah?"
"so there’s this girl in my coloring class?"
"mmhm?"
"she thinks she’s soooo cool," babykuna says, climbing up onto the couch beside him, crossing her little arms like a mob boss. “so i had to beat her.” sukuna quirks a brow. "oh?"
"yes." she grins—deviously. "she said her labubu was the best dressed in class. but i showed her mine and—" she claps her tiny hands together, cackling, "—she cried papa. she cried.”
sukuna takes a slow sip of his drink. "you made the mean girl cry by flexing your labubu?"
"yes." she tilts her chin up, victorious. sukuna smirks. "that’s my girl."
"i know," she replies, flicking her hair over her shoulder in the exact way she’s seen her papa do a hundred times. then she leans in, whispering, "also? guess who didn’t color inside the lines today?*"
"who?"
"the smartest boy in class."
"no way."
"yes way."
"and you?"
she smirks, eyes glinting like her father’s. "perfection, papa."
"that’s my fucking girl," sukuna grins, holding his palm up. babykuna slaps her tiny hand against his. it’s devil dad and devil daughter, thick as thieves. meanwhile, you stand in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the unholy alliance unfold.
"…is this what happens when i’m not around?" you deadpan.
"mama!" babykuna gasps, suddenly all sweetness again, running over to you and grabbing your hand. “papa said a bad word!” sukuna glares at her.
"you just called that kid a loser."
"*but you said the bad word, papa!"
sukuna groans, rubbing his temples. "you little traitor."
6K notes · View notes
monicaalexandraaa · 8 months ago
Text
SAM !!!!!! THIS ONE !!!!!!!! Saaammmmm !!!!!!!
I saw this posted and for some reason I just felt like I couldn’t do anything else before I read this and yeah I think everyone else should stop what they’re doing right now and read this. Oh my heart. My hearrrrrtttttt. The way you write your fmc’s is magnificent. I always feel like I’m in their brain and their heart. I felt for her sooooo much. You often cover such real and relatable struggles and you excel at it. This was phenomenal. The angst, the fluff, all of it. Just so so good. I feel like I can’t properly explain my thoughts (the tags may help) but WOW! 🩷🩷
Independent
Tumblr media
~10.6k words
From me: I know it's a long one, but it's a one-shot.
Warnings: angst, fluff. I've got about a thousand tropes in this one. Coworker Harry, Roommate Harry, love at first sight, he falls first and harder, one bed if you squint.
Summary: “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.
“Because of the cookies?”
“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”
She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”
Tumblr media
Harry was tall, with soft brown locks that begged to have fingers run through them, and cool green eyes that reminded her of the sage green bridesmaid’s dress she wore to one of her friends’ weddings the year before. He wore a dark purple button down with sleeves rolled up revealing a bunch of tattoos on his left arm but only a few on the right. His voice was melodic. Smooth, like he was going to sing her a lullaby and warm like it could toast a marshmallow.
Her group chat with a couple of her office friends had been buzzing the moment Harry took residence at the desk across the aisle and one row ahead of her.
Holy fuck. Val texted. Office eye candy 😍
Do you hear that thundering sound? That’s my heart 😍 Rachel continued.
She smirked at the desks, shaking her head.
Don’t shake your head. Say something! At least you’re single, you have a chance! Val sent the messages in quick succession, making her desk partner, Hunter, look at her curiously each time it vibrated.
“Do you have an emergency?” He asked her.
She shook her head. “Nope,” she smiled. “Not at all.”
*
Harry met her and asked her out on the very first day he started his new job. They both worked in an office. Their desks only a short distance apart while they worked together. He assumed there were no rules against dating as there were several married couples within the office as he quickly found out from the shared last names and wedding photos of his coworkers lining one another’s desks.
It seemed, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work, there was no issue.
Which was fine by Harry.
He was happy to ogle her all day long and he would spoil her rotten outside of work. “Hi, m’Harry,” Harry took his opportunity to introduce himself when everyone else left for their lunch hour and she was finishing something up. Leaving them alone in the office. Harry analyzed her desk as quickly as he could.
Their office was wide open with desks back-to-back nearly identical on either side with a long aisle leading to the office of their boss at the back of the room. Her desk faced the front of the room while Harry’s faced his boss’ office. He was on the opposite side of the room, and he had a great view all day long to watch her profile as she worked. Her hair was half up, her beautiful eyes hidden behind glasses, and her mouth set in concentration as she focused on her tasks. He couldn’t see her whole body, but he watched her pull her sandy colored cardigan around her white shirt multiple times that morning, like she was chilled by the air conditioner. His eyes were drawn to her. Like she was a lighthouse, and he was out at sea. All he wanted to do was watch her, keep an eye on her, and admire how stunning she was.
She had a little plant near her window—a bunch of red poppies wrapped up in a burlap vase, tied with a red bow. He couldn’t tell if it was fake or not, but he suspected it was. There was a picture of a large group of friends right by her monitor where she was off to the side in it, one of her girlfriends had an arm around her. Her stationery was cool tones of blues, greens, and purples. Her handwriting was scribbled on a calendar in front of her and he thought the way she curved her L’s was loopy and pretty beyond belief and he wished he had one in his name just to see how it looked. But it made him want to know how she would write his name anyway. There was a date at the end of September that was marked with a heart and he wondered why. Was it an anniversary? A birthday? Or the day her favorite movie came out?
A book sat on the windowsill, and he wondered when she had the time to read it during the day or maybe it was a security blanket kind of thing. There were two paper trays stacked on top of one another to organize her work and sticky notes all over her monitor and desk with ideas, reminders, and even a couple that said things like, “we love you” and “you’re so sweet.”
“Hi, Harry,” she smiled up at him to introduce herself. “Welcome to the team, are you having a good first day?”
He nodded, smiled a little brighter and dove right in. “I think m’in love with you,” she released a laugh that was so unbelievably beautiful Harry thought it sealed the deal. “I wouldn’t laugh, kitten. M’serious,” he frowned with faux sadness. He knew he was being a tad bit ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t right to say it while they were alone, but he didn’t want to say it in front of everyone either. Hopefully he could convince her he was harmless, even if what he said was true.
Her cheeks reddened and she smiled. “That’s... very forward,” she reminded him. “And you don’t know me.”
“I know,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I was going t’hold off on saying it until tomorrow, but m’unable t’contain it. You’re very beautiful and everyone seems t’go t’you when they need help, so I imagine you’re a lovely person,” he pointed at the sticky note that said we love you once more. She snickered again and looked away covering one cheek with her hand. “M’going t’go t’lunch before I embarrass myself further, but I jus’ wanted to tell you,” he shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the exit.
“Nice meeting you Harry,” she called after him a smile on her lips.
He grinned and turned briefly to wave before he exited. “Don’t forget t’eat, kitten,” he called.
*
But now that Harry admitted he was in love with her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched while she worked. Her eyes darted to his side of the room often trying to see if he was staring at her. He wasn’t each time which only made her feel guilty and worse. Maybe her standoffish disposition deterred him rapidly. It was probably for the best, anyway. For a lot of reasons.
Was it disappointment she was feeling from his lack of attention? That didn’t seem right.
“Harry!” Val called from behind her. “Are you enjoying your first day?”
“Immensely,” did his eyes drift over to her and her desk? She stared at her screen pretending to work while she listened.
“Did you just move to town?” Rachel was much further towards the front of the room. He turned to give her his full attention. It made her heart skip a beat with how kind it was. His politeness was a massive turn on.
Even if she wasn’t going to let herself admire Harry from across the way just because they worked together.
“I did, m’actually looking for a place t’live if y’know of any places. M’at a hotel until m’on m’feet.”
Her heart started beating about two hundred times a minute because she knew what was going to happen before it did. She could feel the bubbling excitement from her friends on either end of the room. “Mary Poppins has a room!” Rachel shouted.
Her cheeks turned bright red.
“Her roommate just moved in with her boyfriend like last week! How perfect is that, Mary? You were all worried about finding a normal roommate. I even did his background check, so I know he’s good to go!”
Harry chuckled. “Um... who’s Mary Poppins?”
The whole office giggled. “Miss Poppins, did you not introduce yourself?” Someone else called. Hunter snickered across from her and she glared at him.
This was mortifying. Wasn’t this supposed to be a mortifying day for Harry? His first day and all? How come she was being teased? She took a deep breath and turned from her monitor to make direct eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. Like he knew exactly who Mary Poppins was without his coworkers needing to tell him. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment. One bath. There’s a nice kitchen, all new appliances.”
Harry’s jaw dropped as she spoke. Like he was surprised it really was her. “Val looks like she’s going to bounce out of her seat,” Hunter smirked as he whispered under his breath to her while she tried not to panic at the thought of living with someone so unbelievably attractive and just admitted he was in love with her.
“Tell him about your living room!” Val sounded like she was bouncing.
“Water’s included.”
“She’s the cutest interior designer. It’s so homey it feels like a warm hug when you walk in. Like living with a rom-com character,” Rachel continued.
“Rent would be about twelve hundred,” she ignored her so-called friends.
“She bakes something once a week too, so it always smells like sugar and Christmas. It’s seriously the coziest place I’ve ever been,” Val kept going.
“In-unit washer and dryer.”
“Then she brings whatever she makes for all of us here to devour. It’s incredible,” Rachel’s sentiment was answered with a hum of agreement from the rest of her coworkers. She even heard someone say remember her apple turnover pastries?
“You get your own parking spot,” she tilted her head and looked at the ceiling to see if there was anything else she had forgotten. “I think that’s it,” she met Harry’s eyes once more, holding his gaze briefly before she turned back to her monitor.
“Harry you should totally move in, you will fall in love with the place.”
“M’sure I would,” he chuckled. “Could I see it sometime?” He asked. His attention never strayed from her face. She could sense his gaze on the side of her cheek the whole time her friends embarrassed the crap out of her. “Whenever you’re free. Doesn’t have t’be today.”
“Today’s fine!” Rachel assured him. “She doesn’t do anything on Mondays.”
She rolled her eyes. “Today is fine,” she repeated and smiled sweetly. She scribbled on a sticky note and headed to his desk to drop the address off with him. Then she made her way toward the restroom because she needed to get out of the room. Needed away from everyone teasing her good-naturedly.
But mostly so she could keep herself from telling Harry that she was quite, very possibly, in love with him as well.
*
True to her friends’ words, the place was cozy as hell. There was a basket of throw blankets next to a sofa that looked like it was comfier than his bed currently in his storage unit. Artwork dotted the walls, board games stowed below her TV, and curtains pulled back from the windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. It felt like a home.
There were three boxes in the middle of the living room between the coffee table and the TV, but it was otherwise spotless. “You’re very clean.”
She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”
He chuckled. “Y’don’t need t’apologize,” he put his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t do something crazy like hold her hand.
“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, is all. You can be... messy... I won’t have a freak out or anything. Unless you leave food in the sink then we get bugs. Then I’ll be kind of freaked out.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I like t’think m’pretty clean myself,” he assured her. “I also...” he took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Y’friends kinda put y’on the spot. I know what I admitted at lunch was kinda out of... out of the blue,” he bit his lip. “Y’don’t have t’feel obligated t’house me.”
“I don’t,” she promised. “I need a roommate and like Val said,” she shrugged. “She did your background check so I assume you won’t kill me, probably. At least not because you’re a serial killer. Maybe because I’m too clean.”
He shook his head with a smile on his lips making the most adorable dimple dent his cheek. She wanted to stick her tongue in it. “Thank you, m’really appreciative.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome, Harry. Sorry we’ll be around each other a lot.”
That didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. “I think it’ll be okay. We didn’t really talk much today,” he shrugged. “If y’get sick of me, m’sure I can find another place t’live,” he winked.
She rolled her eyes. “Won’t be necessary. But okay,” she sighed. “You can move in whenever,” she grabbed her keys from the breakfast bar where she ate most of her meals and pulled a key off the ring and handed it to him. “I have a second job some nights, but if you give me a heads up, I can help you move your stuff.”
“S’very kind of you, kitten, but y’don’t need t’do that. M’not going t’have all that much stuff. M’friend Louis lives not too far from here. He’ll come help me.”
“Offer stands,” she assured him.
Harry’s eyes scanned the room again and landed on the three boxes once more. “Are those your old roommate’s boxes?” He asked.
She nodded. “Two of them. I’m supposed to bring them to her, but they’re super heavy so I’m like... working up my mental and physical strength to bring them to my car. It’s going to be two trips and I’m just being a little lazy about it.”
“I can bring them down,” he grabbed one. It was definitely heavy. It was evident Harry had defined biceps and triceps practically outlined by the pretty purple button down, but it was manageable for him while a struggle for her. “Still probably two trips,” he nodded.
“Oh, I can take—”
“No, no,” he shook his head. “Don’t want you t’hurt yourself. Let me,” he offered and snagged her car keys off the counter.
“Oh, thank you that’s... thank you,” she swallowed, feeling grateful.
“Not a problem,” he assured her and left immediately.
When he returned after putting the second box in her car to return her keys, she had opened the third box and begun laying out a bunch of fall items to decorate their place. “Do you mind decorations?”
“Of course not,” he smiled. “Can I help?”
She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Um... I can handle it. If you need to pack or go... get dinner or something.”
“M’fine,” he smiled, setting her keys on the counter and glanced around the room. He noted there were hooks screwed into the wall at various points. “Can I hang something for you? M’good for height.”
Harry wasn’t that much taller than her, she was definitely taller than the average woman, but it still meant she needed to drag out a stepstool when she wanted to put up her art and decorations. “That would be awesome,” she nodded. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem, kitten,” he smiled.
*
Harry had a dreamy smile on his face as they talked and got to know one another. He hadn’t brought up that he was in love with her. Nor did he make her feel the least bit uncomfortable. Like it had never happened.
Why did it feel like she was disappointed about the prospect of that?
Maybe he wasn’t in love with her. Maybe the initial reaction of seeing someone roughly the same age as him at work made his senses a bit wild for a moment.
No. She wasn’t disappointed. Everything about Harry being in love with her would be a recipe for disaster and it was for the best that he didn’t fall in love with her.
It was just something a little bit out of the blue to say to the only person who was single in the office. Everyone had a significant other they had met within the office or elsewhere. She was the last single person. The same was true with her friend group as well. Everyone in her life had been paired off except for her.
He was her coworker. He was going to be her roommate.
But right as he left, he sent her heart into a frenzy. They were by the door. She wanted to make sure he got to his car safely even though it was a safe neighborhood. It was just the way she was. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked.
She stared at him in shock, her lips parting like she was mid-sentence, and he had interrupted. “Seriously?” She giggled reflexively, but her cheeks felt hot. They had a lovely evening together getting to know each other. Harry helped with all the decorations and yes, in its own way it was a bit intimate. But he couldn’t possibly think that it was a good idea to date his roommate.
“Yes,” he nodded.
“Harry, I can’t date my roommate.”
“Pretty sure s’how most rom-coms start,” he smiled. “S’okay. I’ll ask again later. Have a nice night,” he grinned with a wave and walked toward his car. Leaving her jaw slack, as she watched her roommate head off into the night.
*
Harry moved in later that week. He asked her to come with him to his storage unit to see if there was anything she would want in the apartment, but she had pretty much everything. It seemed silly to bring a double of everything when she owned all of it already.
But Harry would forever be grateful and indebted to his sister for her kindness as he watched her examine some of his belongings. One in particular caught her eye making him think that he had won the lottery with how excited she was.
She couldn’t believe Harry had a stand mixer and she was nearly in awe of all the attachments to help bake and cook easier. “I’ve always wanted one of these. They’re so expensive,” she blinked. “How do you have one?”
“M'sister got one when she got married,” he explained. “But she doesn’t bake and said it was taking up space in her kitchen.”
“Can we bring it to the apartment? Do you mind?”
The way her eyes lit up at the sight of it? Pure joy and happiness? Yeah. It was going to the apartment. If he ever moved out, he would probably leave it with her too just so she could always look that happy. “Course. Anything else?”
She looked around the organized storage room sifting through the items in different bins while Harry searched for some of his own trinkets that he thought he would want after his initial move. His room and bathroom items had already been moved in with the help of Louis. “This is stunning,” her voice full of awe once more, grabbing a print from behind a shelf. Harry wasn’t sure where it was from. He thought his mum purchased it to make his old place feel like home. “This would look amazing in the living room.”
“Bring it,” he smiled. She tucked it under her arm and continued searching. Harry grabbed a few more odds and ends and she plucked out a few more things she thought would work with the apartment’s décor and mainly helpful kitchen tools.
“It’s your place too, Harry,” she reminded him. “Is there anything you want there?”
He smiled, shook his head. “Y’seem t’have everything, kitten. M’not picky.”
“I don’t want you to feel like a guest,” she pouted. “Like you should bring these,” she gestured to pictures of his friends and family in a bin. “I can move some of mine to my room so you can put them up.”
He grinned. “Sure,” he shrugged. “If y’think s’what I should do.”
“Alright, could we come back in a few weeks and see if there’s anything else you want once you’re settled a bit?”
“Course.”
They gathered as much as they could, Harry would have to come back for the stand mixer. Harry closed the trunk and moved to open the passenger door for her before her hand fully pulled it out of the way. He waited until she was tucked into the seat safely and he handed her the car keys. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here,” she smiled.
“Hey kitten,” he said leaning against the door before he left. “Will y’go on a date with me?”
“Harry,” she laughed the same way she did the last time he asked her. The same way she laughed when he told her he was in love with her. “You can’t be serious!”
“Deadly,” he smiled at the delight on her face. The pretty pink color rising to her cheeks. “Will you?”
“I can’t go on a date with you, Harry,” she looked at him with a bit of sympathetic pity. Like he was ridiculous for asking. Again. Which he was.
“Then I’ll ask again another time,” he shrugged, closed her car door, and headed to get the stand mixer that made her happy.
*
“Hey Poppy, did y’want t’go get lunch with me?” Her eyes didn’t move from her screen. “Poppy,” he repeated. “Poppy,” he sang. She glanced around and realized she was the only one in the room.
“Me?”
He chuckled. “Yes, you.”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “Why did you call me Poppy?”
“Well, m’assuming s’your favorite flower,” it was a safe bet since there was a small bouquet right beside her. “Also, everyone else calls y’Mary, Poppins, or Miss Poppins. Which I still don’t know why, but I wanted t’be different. Want you t’know s’me when y’hear me talking t’you.”
Her heart raced. Harry was utterly adorable. “I see. Sorry,” she smirked.
“Anyway,” he came over to stand by her desk. “Do y’want t’get lunch?”
“Harry, I told you I don’t date.”
“M’not asking as a date. M’asking as your coworker who has never seen y’eat a bite of food while you’re at work. M’asking as your concerned roommate who worries y’don’t eat until y’get home for dinner. And I don’t even want t’think ‘bout how long y’go without eating when you’re at your second job.”
She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I don’t go out to lunch with everyone,” she explained. “I don’t know if you noticed, but people always seem to need me while I’m here,” she gestured to her desk. “Lunch is the only time I get a minute to myself. And I can get caught up a bit before the afternoon and everyone comes back.”
“Well do you bring lunch?” He asked, his frown deepening still worried she wasn’t eating.
“I do, it’s in the breakroom. I’ll get it in a minute,” she promises. “Go, you’re wasting your lunch hour.”
“Okay,” he sighed. He stopped in the doorway of the entrance to the office. “Hey Poppy,” he smiled.
“Yeah?” She asked without looking up from her screen.
“Now that y’mention it though, will y’go out with me?”
*
At home, Harry took the trash out because he said it was a boy-job and she shouldn’t be out in the dark by a dumpster. It made his skin crawl just to think about it. He made her promise that she wouldn’t take out the trash and he didn’t mind if he had to go out twice in one day. She thought it was ridiculous. But she agreed.
He cleaned up after himself checking with her to see if it was up to her standard. Even though she assured him he didn’t have to meet her standard. His cologne overtook their bathroom, and it was so comforting she took long hot showers at night just to amplify the scent filling her nose. Harry stretched across the sofa and scrolled through various show options but often didn’t find something that piqued his interest. Instead, he would put on some background noise and read on an eReader. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration.
Harry bought groceries and didn’t ask for any money from them. “M’sure you’ll buy stuff too,” he shrugged. Plus, she already had all the cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, dishwasher pods, and the like. Harry hardly had anything useful so buying groceries was the least he could do.
Except the stand mixer. People moaned about her cookies. Harry got to see her make them firsthand and the very scene with an apron around her body, her smile bright as she tested various stages of the dough, it did wonders for Harry. Some kind of nearly pornographic idea that only Harry would think was pornographic. “Will you try one?” She asked, hope in her voice.
Was he supposed to say no to her? Absolutely not. So, he tried one. “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.
“Because of the cookies?”
“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”
She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”
He frowned, faking his disappointment (although he was the slightest bit disappointed). “I’ll try again,” he shrugged and took three more cookies from her cooling rack before returning to the sofa to read.
*
“Mary!” Val sang. “Do you have the stain stick?” She called from behind. She opened a drawer, eyes unmoving from her screen and held it out behind her for it to be passed back by her other coworkers. Harry chuckled.
It killed her that she knew his chuckle without looking. “S’impressive,” he murmured quietly. But she could hear it from across the way.
“That’s nothing,” Rachel said from the other end of the room. “Miss Poppins,” she smiled delightedly. “I have a missing button,” she told her.
That was the other drawer, a small little sewing kit to fix a button.
“Hair tie!” Someone called from the other side of the room.
“Lint roller!”
They all called out items and she had every single one.
“Do you have anything stronger to put in this coffee?” Their boss was walking up the aisle and paused at her desk. She smirked, opened the bottom drawer and placed a mini bottle of liquid on the edge of the desk. The whole office laughed as he snatched it and headed to his office. “You’re getting a raise, Poppins,” he called.
Hunter turned to look at Harry. “I gave her the nickname,” he explained.
“I get it,” he chuckled.
“If you need it, chances are she has it.”
“If she doesn’t, she adds it,” Val explained.
Her smile was soft. Harry thought it was sweet how her coworkers adored her. It was clear she was loved by them. Her thoughtfulness was admirable. Harry wondered how he was supposed to top that. No wonder she didn’t want to go out with him. Why would she want to go out with anyone when she was ten times sweeter than anyone she knew?
*
Her best friend Josephine (Joey) was helping her in the bathroom when Harry got home from the gym one Friday evening. “Holy hell you said he was cute, not hot,” she gaped.
“Aw, y’think m’cute, Poppy?” He asked winking at her. Her cheeks flushed red, making it so she didn’t need any of the blush she was putting on her cheeks. He leaned against the doorframe; arms crossed over his chest. He was sweaty and really wanted to get in the shower, but he didn't mind a bit of time to stare at his sweet roommate.
“I should have known. Only a man that uses such high-end cologne would be this hot.”
“Didn’t you buy Matt high-end cologne?”
“Hence why I think he’s so hot,” Joey beamed. Her friend laughed quietly, shaking her head as she finished with her makeup.
“Sorry Harry, we’ll be out of the way in a minute.”
“Take y’time. M’not in a rush.”
“Oh, you should come out!” Joey squealed. “Harry, please! She’s always by herself keeping an eye on us it would be nice to have someone keep her company!”
“Thanks, Mom. I don’t need a babysitter,” she rolled her eyes. “No offense, Harry.”
“S’okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t want t’impose. Plus m’in need of a shower.”
“Don’t let us stop you,” Joey smiled widely gesturing to the shower.
“Can you not?” She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry with apologetic eyes.
He laughed again and shook his head. “Y’can call if y’need something,” he assured her.
“Harry, please come out! You can meet us there!” Joey said again.
She looked at him with a soft smile. A look in her eyes said he wasn’t going to get out of it. Not if he didn’t have a really good reason. But truthfully? He didn’t need a reason to get out of it. Spending time with her outside of work, outside of the apartment, and errands like the grocery store and running to the post office had him excited to see her in another frame of light. Did she let loose? He would love to dance with her. Even if it was only as friends, roommates, fuck as coworkers even. How did she act around her friends versus her coworkers? God, he was obsessed.
“I can wait for you,” she suggested, her voice soft. Harry smiled.
“Thanks, Poppy.”
*
Her eyes scanned for her friends as she sat on a stool at a high top beside Harry. It was like watching a teacher on a field trip counting heads to make sure everyone was still present. The table was littered with drinks all of which she minded just as intently.
Harry just gazed at her as he sipped his drink. He helped as needed pushing drinks toward her friends as they came back from dancing. “Y’don’t dance?”
“Oh...maybe later. I’m not very good,” she admitted. “I like dancing with Joey because she’s worse than me.”
She caught the eye of one of her friends, Hailey, approaching and she reached into her purse strapped around the front of her for something. Harry watched as Hailey made it to her. “Thanks Mary,” she gushed taking the bandage from her and made her way for the bathroom. It was pretty wild she could anticipate whatever her friends needed. It was like at work. Harry was a bit awestruck and looked at her with a surprised expression. She shrugged and continued sipping her drink.
Jaylen was next. Joey’s twin brother; they had the same facial expressions--mainly the smile that Joey had on her face when she suggested Harry shower in front of her and his favorite person.
The same smile appeared on his face and told Harry he was going to say something just as delightful as Joey had said of Harry. Sure enough, Jaylen draped an arm around her and leaned into her ear to whisper something over the sound of the music. She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. His face turned serious and he whispered something again.
She frowned. Then reached into her purse again. Out came a tampon which he slid discreetly into his pocket and then she glanced at his outfit twisting her lips to the side in disappointment.
After a brief thought, she pulled her purse over her body and laid it on the table. The long cardigan she wore came off next, leaving her in a black tank top that tucked into her jeans. It hugged her curves like a glove making Harry’s mouth water and he glanced away worried he would look like a creep. He finished his beer before Jaylen grinned and thanked her profusely and walked away. She took a deep breath and put her purse back into position before wrapping one arm in front of he protectively, gripping the front of her shoulder.
“Are y’cold?” He asked.
She shook her head.
But Harry was sitting beside her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin. She selflessly gave her sweater to her friend for whatever reason (Harry wasn’t totally sure, but he suspected it was menstrual related). But she was going to pretend like she wasn’t cold? Harry was definitely in love. In case it wasn’t obvious by the moment he met her. Boldly, Harry reached below her bar stool and tugged it toward him. She jostled a bit but he maintained her balance. Then he draped his arm around her body pulling her toward him further and he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t pull away. She didn’t make a sound and her facial expression didn’t change.
But Harry felt her body relax into his side, her head dipping ever so slightly toward his shoulder. He smiled softly and brought his lips closer to her ear so she could hear. “Y’don’t have t’lie t’me, Poppy. M’your roommate and all. I know y’like the apartment a toasty temperature.”
She smirked and tilted her head up. Their eyes connected, their mouths only two inches apart. “Thank you,” she said kindly.
Harry really enjoyed holding her.
*
At the end of the night, she rounded up her friends ensuring those who said they could drive actually could and if they couldn’t she called for Ubers until everyone was safely on their way home. Jaylen’s girlfriend, Maya, had her green sweater wrapped around her white pants. She thanked her profusely, drunkenly.
Joey and Matt waved goodbye. “Bye Hot Roommate,” Joey called waving to Harry specifically.
“Jesus, Joey,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Nice meeting you Harry,” he called.
Once everyone was gone, she rubbed her hands on her arms to keep the blood flowing and warming her skin. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders again and tucked her into his side as they headed for her parked car a couple blocks away. “Go on a date with me," he spoke straight forward. Hoping if he didn't look, it wouldn't seem like as a massive deal--almost like he would trick her into a date.
She elbowed him. “I can’t go out with a coworker, Harry. Or my roommate for that matter.”
He shrugged. “I’ll ask later,” he boldly kissed the top of her head. Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind. Harry was sure to keep that in his head for future reference. He would most definitely be kissing her again. “You’re an extremely sweet girl, Poppy. Selfless, lovely, kind,” he listed. “Whoever y’end up with, m’going t’be very jealous,” he assured her.
She snorted and laughed quietly under her breath. “Thank you, Harry.”
*
For months it continued with similar routines, feelings, and questions. They grew closer as friends. At work he admired her from his desk from across the office. When she didn’t go to lunch, he reminded her to eat and not work too hard. At home, he grumbled that her loophole of taking the trash out in the daytime was not the point of his promise. He still bought groceries each week trying to figure out all the things she enjoyed eating.  
He helped her clean the apartment and when it was getting cooler outside, she asked to join him at the gym. Her outfits were cute and made guys stare at her as she worked out, unbeknownst to her. She asked for help from Harry which made him feel like he won an Olympic medal. His face was smug as the men in the gym finally stopped looking at her. Thinking Harry was lucky enough to be hers.
It made him happy to help her figure out new machines and with her sets of weightlifting (even though she didn’t like it).
Everywhere they went, people ogled her. She was so kind. Little kids would smile at her in grocery store lines and wave like it was a game of peekaboo. Dogs tugged on their leashes hoping to get a pet from her around the loop she ran in the neighborhood. Their elderly next door neighbor tried telling her a hundred times that she had a grandson her age and he would love to date her (that one drove Harry the most crazy).
She had her head leaning in her palm as she watched the stand mixer beat the brownie ingredients like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But Harry was watching her; so he was, in fact, watching the most interesting thing in the world.
He leaned against the wall just beside the kitchen entrance. “Poppy?” He asked. She looked up at him. “Go on a date with me, please," his expression soft.
She was finally getting used to it. She gave herself a lot of credit. It was pretty crazy she hadn’t caved yet. Harry was so lovely. Not to mention attractive. At the gym, his muscles rippled and glistened with sweat. The outline of every abdominal muscle was sinful. It was a miracle she didn’t drop her own weights or fall on the treadmill when she caught sight of him. It drove her crazy that the women there gazed at him longingly; like he was something to eat. But was she really any better?
She smiled, the blush on her cheeks still prominent, but not as deep. She was used to her heart skipping a beat, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach each time he asked. “That's very sweet, Harry. But I don’t date.”
It was six months since he met her when he finally asked. “Why not?”
She shrugged. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything more, so he frowned, sighed, and headed for the living room to get back to his book. “I just don’t date, Harry. I like being friends,” she told him.
He grumbled something about still being friends even if they dated but she either didn’t hear or pretended not to hear. Either way, it was quiet for a few beats. “If I hadn’t told you I was in love with you that first day, would that have changed your answer?”
She giggled and shook her head. “No.”
“Okay,” he shrugged. Ever determined. He smiled widely at her. “I’ll keep asking then.”
*
When she got dressed up for a family wedding and clicked down the hall in heels and a dress that flowed over her like she was the bride (only wearing green of course, not white). Her hair was curled and pinned so prettily Harry thought he was seeing a real angel in the flesh. “Oh, come on, Poppy,” he groaned and covered his eyes with his hand dramatically. “S’not fighting fair,” he frowned.
She grinned, her cheeks warming more than they had in a while. “I look okay?”
“Stunning,” he grumbled. “M’so jealous I won’t get t’dance with you,” he pouted.
She shook her head. “I don’t usually dance at weddings when I go alone,” she explained.
“Well, y’should’ve told me. I would’ve been your date.”
“Harry—”
“Platonic date,” he rolled his eyes. “This is worse than when y’wore that pencil skirt t’work,” he reminded her. She snickered and shook her head while she looked at her phone. She sucked her lip into her mouth and sighed wincing slightly and then turned to her room again. After several minutes she returned in a different dress. She was equally stunning, but she looked a little forlorn. “An outfit change?”
She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged. “My sister is wearing green.”
Harry frowned. “So?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just...” she shrugged. “It’s alright. I like this dress just fine.”
But it wasn’t green. She looked so pretty in green. It complimented her skin tone so perfectly. She looked stunning. Like she was a queen. “But—”
“Seriously, Harry. It’s fine.”
The muted purple dress looked lovely on her as well. But Harry thought the green made her look otherworldly. He wanted the happiness back in her eye. The light that sparked when he complimented her. “Well when can y’wear it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Season’s almost over for a wintergreen like that,” she shrugged. “Maybe next year.”
Harry frowned. But then he had a wonderful idea to help both her dress and himself. “Go on a date with me, Poppy.”
The smile reappeared on her face, and she shook her head. “I can’t, Harry.”
“Please? Do it for the sake of that dress,” he pleaded. “We don’t even have t’call it a date. An outing. An adventure. Whatever y’want. Y’jus’ need t’wear it before y’can’t.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Harry. But I can’t.”
He sighed. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll steal you a cupcake. I heard they come from this bakery that I love and if it doesn’t make it home to you, then we’re going to have to go there anyway.”
It didn’t replace a date. But he liked the way she smiled. And going to a bakery together was inherently a couple-y thing to do. So he would take what he could get.
“Sure, Poppy. I’d love to.”
*
She didn’t need people. Needing people had only ever broken her heart. She never asked for help ever. Well...only when they were at the gym but that was a safety thing more than anything.
Even when she should have asked.
Harry didn’t notice until he drove her to a house party that her friends didn’t invite her too. She was sleepy, it was obvious. Leggings, oversized sweater. Her hair was braided loosely and falling apart because she had woken in the middle of the night to answer a message. Harry was in the middle of a good book. Unable to put it down when she ventured into the living room. A yawn falling from her lips. Her eyes barely open. It took several questions and repeated convincing to let him drive her since he was awake, and it looked like she was going to pass out while standing.
Harry insisted on coming in even as she told him to stay in the car, but he refused. She found her friends, her voice was soft as she encouraged Jaylen to leave. A little over his limit and Joey and Maya were about just as gone and unable to convince Jaylen to go with them. A guy from across the room made a joke about Mommy coming to save him. As her pugnacious friend made a turn to deal with the offensive person, she stopped him. She was quick, grabbed his arm, and held tight.
When they returned to the apartment she corralled her friends into their sleeping arrangements. Maya and Jaylen in her bed, Joey on the sofa. “Sorry I took your reading spot,” she whispered as she tucked a blanket around Joey. She snagged another blanket and curled into the only other chair in the living room. “Thank you for driving,” she smiled, closing her sleepy eyes.
“You’re gonna sleep there?” He asked. She nodded, barely moving. Like she was already half-way to dreaming. Harry snagged her out of the chair, cradling her and bringing her to his room.
“Harry,” she protested.
“We’re grown adults,” he reminded her. “We can share a bed without it being weird. S’like a hotel room.”
“Harry,” she repeated, her objection evident in her tone. “I can’t—”
“M’not letting y’sleep in a chair or on the floor. So, it’s m’bed or y’aren’t sleeping,” he shrugged.
She sighed. Too tired to oppose any further, thankfully. Harry laid her atop the covers and draped another blanket over her. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and slid beneath his sheets and glanced at the sleeping angel beside him. He smiled. He liked the way she looked in his bed. Liked the way she seemed comfortable and sleepy beside him. His bed felt warm with her beside him. Even though she wasn’t touching him. She smelled good in his room too.
“Night, Harry,” she mumbled.
“Good night, Poppy,” he answered, reached out, squeezed her hand before releasing it so she wouldn’t break a piece of his heart by telling him they shouldn’t.
It was easy to fall asleep with her beside him.
It was even easier to dream of her with her intoxicating presence in his room as well.
*
Harry noticed how drained she seemed when the weather continued to get warmer. Her friends all had birthdays around the same time, and she was a mess of scheduling and reserving birthday dinners and planning things for all of them. Did Harry miss her birthday? He would have to ask. He hoped he didn’t. He hoped her friends would take the time to plan for her the way she did for them.
Work was approaching a busy season, and everyone kept coming to her more and more throughout the day. He could see the anxiety on her face as her growing to-do list looked nearly unmanageable. Harry tried to go to others if he had issues. But every time he asked someone else a question, they called out for Mary Poppins, and she would glance up and look at Harry with a sad smile asking how she could help.
Harry was worried she wasn’t eating her lunch. When everyone else left, her eyes were hidden behind those glasses, her face concentrating and relieved for the reprieve from people calling her name for help with work or needing something like a pen or a screwdriver. Sometimes Harry hated his job. Not because it was difficult. But it seemed like everyone in the office was incompetent. Or weaponizing their incompetence and foisting their tasks onto the lovely woman who would never say no to them.
Her friends did it too. With all the planning and such.
The poor thing looked exhausted. She didn’t join Harry at the gym and her second job seemed like the only time she got to herself. “I miss reading,” she grumbled when she got home late from her shift. She kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “My eyes are exhausted though,” she rubbed them for good measure. “I think I would fall asleep if I tried to read. I think I need to wake up earlier and read.”
Harry snorted. “Don’t burn yourself out, Poppy,” he rolled his eyes. “What are y’reading?”
“I’ve been trying t’read this book for months,” she pulled it from the shelf below the coffee table. He had seen it tucked there for a while. He grabbed it from her, skimmed the back of the book, and opened to the first chapter.
Then, he started reading.
Out loud.
“Harry,” she whispered her eyes wide.
“Yeah?” He asked, pointing at the sentence where he stopped and looked at her curiously. “M’starting over, because I want t’know what’s happening,” he smiled. Her face looked so shocked and confused. Sad even. Like she didn’t know what emotion she was supposed to feel.
“You don’t have to—”
He shook his head, and continued reading before she could finish her sentence.
Harry read three chapters before he carried her sleeping self to bed.
*
Something changed in Harry. He almost turned into a stalker. He tracked her movements and routines for a week. He knew most of them. But he really tracked them. The daily ones were easiest. She went for a run in the morning, he followed her lead and didn’t say a word. He went to her favorite coffee shop and paid for her favorite drink for a week’s worth of drinks in advance.
He wished they carpooled, but she was so busy. So he timed his arrival so that he was at the entrance door holding it open for her. When everyone left to get lunch, he heated up her food and brought it to her desk before leaving silently.
One day, there was a note on her dashboard saying she had a full tank of gas. When she arrived home after her second job, she noted her spare car key was on Harry’s key ring. At home, her laundry was in the wash. The shirts she didn’t like to put in the dryer were hung in the bathroom.
Harry could see it. She was cracking. It was the first time someone had done something for her it seemed. The first time someone so selflessly did things for her, anticipated her needs the way she anticipated everyone else’s.
Her throat felt tight as she looked at Harry in the kitchen, making her favorite dinner—a soup that took hours and hours to make.
He didn’t even know it was her birthday that day which made her heart feel sicker than ever.
“Poppy,” he smiled sweetly placing a bowl in front of her exhausted figure.
“Yeah?” She whispered.
If she wasn't so in awe, she would have realized where his tone was. What was coming next. “Go on a date with me, kitten.”
“I can’t.”
“S’not so hard,” he assured her. “You sit across from me and be yourself because m’already in love with you,” he reminded her sweetly. An impish grin on his pretty pink lips. That dimple she wanted to sink her tongue into on display. “I tell y’how stunning y’look, I pay for you t’eat. I feed you a dessert of your choosing that you’re probably too full t’eat and then I can kiss you wherever y’want. Lips, cheek, forehead,” he shrugged. “Then we come home, and I’ll read a chapter of your book. Y’can decide if y’want t’go on a second date.”
She giggled, her cheeks red. “I can’t, Harry,” she looked at him apologetically, but she felt herself melting as much as the soup warmed her insides. It was ridiculous to eat soup in the middle of the summer. But Harry made it for her anyway.
His heart deflated a little. He wasn't kidding. He was definitely in love. He had to be because there was no other way he could explain the feelings he had for her. Someone so thoughtful, so pretty, sweet, and funny.
Harry had asked her out at least a hundred times. Around Christmas, she got her hair cut and he always found her beautiful, but he asked her almost every day following her new hair style for a month straight. Each time she said she couldn't. She didn't date.
For the first time in the near year since he had first asked her, first met her, he realized she said she can’t go on a date with him. She didn’t date. That he was crazy.
Not that she didn’t want to. She didn’t say no.
Hope bloomed inside him.
*
She didn’t need anything. She didn’t need anybody. It was clear someone or maybe many had let her down so many times. He watched her doing everything she could to make this party as nice as humanly possible for Hailey. Not that Hailey didn’t deserve it, but no one had done anything like this for her. Harry only found out it was her birthday after the fact, and he felt like shit for it. Even though she assured him that was one of the best birthdays she ever had.
All he did was make her soup.
She deserved so much more.
It almost seemed too obvious that they hadn’t done anything for her remotely as lovely as she did.
“You’re staring, Styles,” she murmured without looking up from the chair while he lounged on the sofa.
“Go on a date with me,” he smiled.
She blushed, shook her head. “You’re crazy.”
“You haven’t said no.”
"I've said no about a hundred thousand times, Harry," she rolled her eyes.
Why was it now? Why did he want to tell her what he was thinking about the whole situation now? But it was in his chest. He had to say it. Had to tell her.
“No, you’ve never said no,” he shook his head and looked at her head on, while she continued looking at her to do list, her planner. Her poor neglected book waiting to be read by Harry because her tired eyes couldn’t. She looked up at him and smirked. Ready to protest once more, but Harry shook his head again. “I remember everything you've said t'me. I would remember a 'no,' it would probably kill me t’hear y’say, no kitten. Y'call me crazy, y'say y'can’t or that y'don’t date. Never, not once, have y'ever said y'don’t want t'go on a date with me. Nor a flat out no. So m'going t’keep asking until y'say y'don’t want to. Because I think you do want t'go out with me but for some reason y'don't want t'allow yourself t'be happy. T'let someone else in. M'not going t'stop asking. Not until I hear y'say "Harry Styles I would rather die than go on a date with you. I never want to go out with you." Maybe that makes me conceited or creepy. M’sure it does make me crazy. But I don’t care. I want t'go on a date with you. I want t'go on a million dates with you, actually. So m'not giving up until y'call me creepy or y'say y'don’t want to.”
She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. Her eyes didn't move from her lap.
"Kitten," he murmured. She didn’t look up. “Poppy,” he whispered. She finally met his green-eyed gaze again. His expression soft, pleading. “Go on a date with me,” his voice was soft. Harry swore his heart stopped beating because if he was wrong, if she really was saying no all those times, he wasn't sure he could ever stop asking her. The idea he would never get to take her out to eat and order her favorite dessert. He wouldn't see a movie and wrap his arm around her shoulders and that was completely unfair. He wanted to offer his jacket to her when it rained and hold her hand while walking through a museum. "Poppy," he repeated.
She bit her lip, her lips opening and closing like she wasn't sure which word was going to pop out. “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes looking at him in a way that he could read right through her. They screamed at him, please don’t stop asking me.
As if he could ever. Harry smiled. "Okay," he shrugged, hope and adoration for her flooding him. "I'll ask again tomorrow."
A sad smile graced her face. "You're crazy," she whispered again.
"Only 'bout you, Poppy.”
*
Harry felt like he was getting sick. Probably due to the sweet girl in his apartment who had worn herself so thin and weary that she had inadvertently brought illness home to him. His head was killing him. His pillow was calling for him the way he wished his favorite stubborn woman would call him.
He didn't even know if she was home. But honestly, he was glad. If she knew he was sick, she would dote on him. Even if she was starting to fell unwell. The thoughts of her were never too far from his mind. He would never be too sick, too lost, too far away from her that she could leave his thoughts.
Sleeping was one of his favorite hobbies because he loved to see her in his dreams. Loved to see the unaffected, carefree, beautiful, stubborn woman. The angel that enjoyed affection both giving and receiving.
It was his nightly dream. The one where she snuggled with him, and it was like they had been together twenty years and not zero. The one where he could taste her lips (even if in his dream she tasted like nothing) he knew it was wrong. She probably tasted like chocolate or caramel or something deliriously sweet.
Unfortunately, his phone vibrated below his pillow pulling him from his perfect beautiful dream.
“Harry?”
He squinted at his phone. Head aching, throat sore. Curious as to why he didn’t have the number saved. “Speaking.”
“Oh, thank god,” the voice sighed. “It’s Joey,” she said. “Harry. Something’s wrong. She won’t stop crying and she won’t say anything but your name.”
He leapt out of bed. Illness forgotten even if he was dizzy. His heart thudded like a chorus of drums, and he didn’t even grab shoes as he raced out of his room, snagging his wallet and keys off the counter as he exited the apartment.
He listened to Joey say a few more things. Something about being out at a club. She never left the bar area. There was no way someone had hurt her. But Harry drove through the night with his heart in his throat like someone had hurt her. He wasn’t sure seeing her would even calm him. He knew where Joey lived, fortunately, so he sped as quickly as he could. The ache in his head and his throat was lost behind him along the drive.
He didn’t knock as he hurried barefoot into Joey’s apartment. Matt was coming from the kitchen and making his way down the hall. He looked at Harry sadly as he approached the main room.
“Poppy?” he whispered as he entered the room, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "Kitten," he frowned and knelt in front of her. He picked her face up between his and he scanned her looking for signs of injury. Anxiety was in every inch of his body. But she fell into his arms before he could look any longer. Sobbing harder than when he entered. “M'here. M'here, baby. It’s okay. M'here," he kissed the top of her head, cupping the back of her head with one hand. The other arm winding around her and squeezing her tight to his body. “Oh kitten,” he sighed, sadness coating his voice. His heart ached. Like it was going to snap in half if she cried any longer. “M’sorry, baby. M'here. S’okay. Tell me. Please. I’ll make it better,” he promised.
Her sobs continued, like she was unable to speak. "Harry," she whimpered.
"M'here, Poppy, s'okay," he assured her even if it wasn't. "Baby," he frowned pulling away to look at her her tearful eyes. He tugged her back to his embrace and continued to soothe her. He rubbed his hand up and down her back hoping it was comforting as he hoped it was.
Harry caught Joey's eye, who looked over from the entryway and smiled weakly.
"You good?" She mouthed. Harry nodded and when he glanced back, her friend was gone.
*
Harry kissed the top of her head for the hundredth time. He continued rubbing his hand down her spine. His head was still screaming.
But she was well worth it. Her cheeks were streaked with salt lines. Her eyes puffy and red around the edges. He had pulled her to him so they could snuggle into the corner of the couch. Her body tucked between the back cushion and Harry's body. Like he didn't want anyone to see her if they entered the room.
“Harry?” Her voice was raw.
“Hmm?” He tucked her hair behind her ear and skimmed his fingertip along the same path repeatedly.
“Will you go on a date with me?” She whispered.
He smiled lazily. His heart exploding in his ribcage. “God, Poppy, I don't know. I have t'check m'schedule.” She smacked his chest with no weight behind it. He kissed the top of her head. “I’d take y’right now. Whenever y’want.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing t’be sorry for.”
"I have issues."
"We can work on them together."
"I don't know if you'll..." She trailed off.
"If I'll what?" He brushed his thumb on her cheek.
She took a deep breath. "I love love, Harry. I love watching people get married. I love when people have babies and grow a family. I want to have babies. I love reading romance novels and watching silly rom-coms where you can predict the ending before the movie even starts."
"Sounds pretty romantic and easy, Poppy," he murmured.
She swallowed continuing. "I will do a lot for you because I believe that's the way love is supposed to be. I want to make your life easier, and I want to do things that make you happy because I think happiness and love are in short supply and I want those books and rom-coms to be real."
Harry nodded. "Well—"
"I've never had that. I had a boyfriend for four years and..." she sniffled. "When we broke up, I said that I wouldn't do that again. I wouldn’t devote myself so completely to someone that wouldn't give me half as much. Then I met my next boyfriend and at first, I thought it was right, finally. It was equal. He loved me the right way, I mean. The way I thought I wanted, deserved... But then it was like he got tired of doing things. I don't know. Maybe my love language is acts of service. I don't know. I’m not making sense, I'm sorry. But..." she swallowed. "I broke it off after only two years that time. I just don't think I can be loved the right way... not forever. I don't know. I sound so selfish, don’t I? I don’t know why you want to go out with me so badly. I want someone to love me the way I love them, and I don’t think that’s...fair."
It was why she always had everything. Why she planned and hosted parties. Why she never drank and always took care of her friends. She loved everyone that was lucky to cross paths with her, with her whole, big, beautiful heart.
Harry tilted her chin up. "M’going to love you the right way,” he promised. “M’going to love you the way y’want because that's what y’deserve. If I love you anything less than you deserve then... well... I don't know what, Poppy. If that’s the case m’probably dead because s’the only possible explanation,” she snorted and tears dripped down her cheeks again but not like the night before. “But it's not going to be a problem, kitten. M’going to love you the way your books love. The way a rom-com loves. M’going to love you the way you love everyone that walks into your life. The way you so selflessly devote your kindness to them. M’going to love you the way you love," he promised. “Because s’an honor to love you,” he assured her. “S’an honor to be loved by you.”
She looked away from his gaze, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest. His throat was aching again. He was really tired, but he would suffer her wrath and frustration of going on about this later. He knew that she would be beside herself knowing he was sick and dealing with her anyway. But where else would he be? "Harry," she whispered finally. He met her eyes the back of his fingers skimming her cheek.
"What, Poppy?"
"Do you love me already?"
"Of course I do."
She sniffled, her face crumpling with relief. Like all of it had been a trick up until then. "Okay," she whispered. “Can we go home?”
“Course, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head and moved slowly to get up from the sofa. All of his muscles ached from sickness and from the awkward but perfect position of holding her all night in the cramped little space.
He held his hand out for her to take as she stood next. “Harry,” she whispered softly.
“Hmm?” He hummed and looked at her with a soft expression that made her stomach flip, her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, Poppy?"
“I’m in love with you too.”
--
general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach
@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals
@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams
@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland
@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles
@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter
@kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles
@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921
@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204
@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine
@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)
If you like this, check out my masterlist here
2K notes · View notes
vibelladonna · 2 months ago
Text
✑ 𝒿𝑒𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝜗𝜚 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒! 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑒𝑜
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Oh boy… the two most possessive men in the whole damn game? Jealous!Sol & Jealous!Geo x Reader? Buckle up because this isn’t just a love triangle—it’s a full-on battlefield.
However, can't blame you for just messing around, testing the waters, seeing who got more jealous… and playing with fire gets you burned. You’re stuck in the middle, questioning every life choice that led you here.  
What could possibly go wrong? (Spoiler: everything.)
𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 
𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉: Anonymous! if you don't mind writing it, but jealous geo and sol, please??😭 Like they both like readers and are just silently jealous of one another? I am in desperate need of more fics of them interacting 🤧
Honestly, apologies in advance—I don’t sugarcoat things. A lot of my writing is rooted in realism and what I’m comfortable exploring. Soooo, if you were hoping for a lighthearted take… no chance.
[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]
Tumblr media
Jelly.
By definition, jelly is something sweet. A glossy, semisolid spread made from fruit juice and sugar, boiled to a thick consistency. Some people like sweets. Some don’t. But jelly can also mean jealousy. That gnawing feeling of wanting something—someone—that belongs to someone else.
And in this case? That something was you.
Not a thing, not an object, but damn if it didn’t feel like you were the prize in some unspoken battle. A war waged in subtle glances, clenched fists, and an underlying tension so thick it could choke the air out of a room.
And the worst part? You never asked for this.
Okay, maybe you did lie—just a little. But you sure as hell didn’t expect the weight of two unreadable stares pinning you down like prey, like you were something to be fought over.
Not the way Sol’s fiery red-orange eyes would zero in whenever some random guy so much as breathed in your direction, his expression eerily blank, but his fingers twitching like he was already mapping out a murder scene in his head.
And definitely not the way Geo, with his usual I-don’t-give-a-fuck aquamarine gaze, would suddenly become conveniently absent the moment on the same random guy—only for poor bastard to show up the next day with a busted nose and now suddenly doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.
Okay, maybe you like this…
Because—let’s be real—having two tall, hot men practically fighting for your attention? Yeah… yeah, that was kinda hot. And a little pathetic. But were you about to stop them?
Absolutely not.
So far, Sol and Geo hadn’t actually thrown hands at each other yet, probably because they still wanted to stay on your good side. But whenever you were with one of them, the other just happened to be around, watching, lingering, acting like your personal shadow.
Meanwhile, some poor random guy so much as breathes in your direction, and suddenly, it’s a whole different story. If there was one thing you could count on, it was that Sol and Geo had very different ways of dealing with people who dared to show interest in you.
Sol? Oh, he didn’t just get jealous—he lived in it. Stewed in it. Let it simmer under his skin like a slow-burning fire, always one spark away from an explosion. It didn’t matter how harmless the situation was. Some poor, clueless guy so much as breathed in your direction, and suddenly, the whole atmosphere shifted.
Like earlier, when you were just trying to study in the library.
“Who was that?” Sol asked, voice eerily calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that told you he was already two seconds away from tracking the guy down.
You didn’t even look up from your notes. “Don’t know. Just some guy.” That was, of course, the wrong answer.
Sol leaned in slightly, red-orange eyes narrowing. “He called you pretty.”
You finally looked up, raising a brow. “And? I am pretty, the hell.”
He didn’t laugh. Didn’t even crack a smirk. Just drummed his fingers on the table, his gaze locked onto the exit like he was memorizing the dude’s last known location.
You had no doubt that if you gave him a name, he’d find some way to make sure the guy never spoke to you again.
Geo, on the other hand? Possessive, sure. But jealous? Not really. If anything, his reaction was less ‘Who the fuck does this guy think he is?’ and more ‘Why the hell are you entertaining this bullshit?’
Like when you went to watch him practice archery after class. You’d barely been there ten minutes before some guy strolled up, all confidence and cologne, asking for your number like Geo wasn’t literally holding a weapon in his hands. You were scared for him.
You were about to respond—probably to reject the guy, but you had been taking your sweet time with it—when a sharp thunk split the air.
The guy flinched, eyes wide as he turned to see an arrow buried into the tree right next to his head.
Geo, standing a few feet away, barely spared him a glance as he reached for another arrow. “Oops,” he said, deadpan. “Must been the wind...”
The guy was gone instantly, practically tripping over himself as he made his escape.
You turned to Geo, unimpressed. “Seriously?”
He finally looked at you, one brow raised. “What? I didn’t do anything.” Yeah. Sure.
At this point you was probably wondering, ‘Oh my, oh my, if Sol and Geo are on good terms with you, do they ever have beef like you said? Or do they just straight-up ignore each other?’
Well… kinda.
It’s less of a mutual rivalry and more of a Sol has serious, undying beef with Geo, while Geo, in true Geo fashion, just casually ignores Sol’s entire existence.
Of course, you’d never hang out with them at the same time. That would be a death wish. You like your life drama-filled but intact, thank you very much. So, you very intentionally avoid situations where they’d have to be in the same room for longer than five seconds.
You keep your time with them separate—Sol on one day, Geo on another. Sol is more of your side friend group situation, hanging out with Hyugo, doing whatever chaotic shit they get into.
Meanwhile, Geo? He’s part of your main friend group—the one you’re actually seen with most of the time, which includes Brittany, Jericho, Jess, and Daryl.
However these been some days you’ll hang out with them along, just you and whoever. And because of this, there are definitely moments where you’ve caught Sol and Geo being jealous of each other.
Like the time you mentioned hanging out with Geo over the weekend, and Sol immediately went all dark and broody, arms crossed, staring at you like you’d just told him you were getting married and moving across the country.
“You spend a lot of time with him,” he muttered, voice low.
You blinked. “Yeah? And?”
“And I don’t like it.” Well... At least he was honest.
Geo, on the other hand, had a way of casually throwing shade when he wanted to. Like when you showed up to hang out with the main group after spending time with Sol.
“Didn’t think we’d see you today,” Geo remarked, arching a brow. “Figured you were off cutting your wrist with him.” I’m sooo sorry if this offensive to anyone.
You snorted awkwardly. “We were just hanging out.”
“Mhm. Sure.” He sipped his drink, giving you the most judgmental side-eye.
At the end of the day, you could ignore their little jealousy fits, but one thing was clear—Sol definitely had beef, and Geo just enjoyed playing unbothered while lowkey stirring the pot.
Then, so let’s talk about territory.
And let’s start with Sol.
Why Sol? Oh, I don’t know—he was fucking obvious.
He wasn’t subtle, and he didn’t care to be. You’d always catch his hand slipping around your shoulders, fingers ghosting over your waist—especially when Geo or your main group of friends were around. He didn’t just exist near you; he occupied your space, like some territorial cat refusing to let anyone else so much as breathe in your direction.
His touch? Not soft. Not casual. Possessive. Like he was making a statement without saying a single damn word.
It didn’t matter where you were—hallways, lunch, walking to class—Sol made sure everyone within a ten-foot radius knew exactly where you stood. And, more importantly, where he stood.
Right. Next. To. You.
Then there was Geo. He didn’t need all that. Where Sol was all hands-on, in-your-face, look-at-me-touching-you, Geo was smooth. Subtle. Calculated. Too composed for his own good, always watching, always analyzing.
He didn’t hover. He didn’t grab. He didn’t need to.
His presence alone was enough to send the message. The way he carried himself across campus—untouchable, like the world bent around him. When it came to you, he had his own ways of making sure people knew.
For example: the damn hoodie situation.
You didn’t even ask for his hoodie, but that didn’t stop him from throwing it on your face like you barely caught it. Cold? Hoodie. Raining? Hoodie. Forgot your jacket? Guess what? Hoodie. And it wasn’t just about keeping you warm—no, no. This was branding. Because that hoodie was his. And when people saw his deep-ass purple hoodie on you, it was like a silent warning: Don’t even try it.
And let’s not pretend like Geo didn’t notice when Sol was all over you. This man has SHARP EYES. But he’d play it cool, act like he didn’t care, keep his distance. But you knew he saw it. You could feel his eyes, sharp and assessing, calculating like he was taking inventory of every single move Sol made.
Now, if Sol ever really overstepped?
Oh, Geo would totally make his move. Not in front of you, though—he was way too clever for that. He didn’t need to start a scene. He didn’t need to flex his dominance in public.
Like for example, you’d start hearing rumors. Some random dude who tried to shoot his shot with you mysteriously walking around with a black eye or a swollen nose. The whispers would be everywhere. “Who the hell messed his ass up?”
And you’d know It was Geo. Handled quietly. Efficiently. Discreetly.
And if, by chance, you happened to notice the faint bruises on Geo’s knuckles the next day? Well. That was just something you didn’t bring up. Ever.
So, again, after everything, how do you feel about being possessed over by two men?
Like, at the end of the day, you were trapped—trapped between their heated stares, their possessiveness, their absolute refusal to let you exist without them staking their claim.
And you?
Oh, you were loving it, all in honesty.
What? If they were gonna play this game, you might as well play along. Hell, you held all the cards. You were the one pulling the strings, keeping them both on their toes, watching as they silently (and not-so-silently) battled for dominance over you.
Geo wanted to act all calm and cool?
Like he was above all of this? Fine. Let him pretend. You knew exactly what buttons to push to make him show his hand. A little too much laughter when another guy paid you a compliment. Casually mentioning how Sol was so protective over you. Flashing him that innocent, knowing smile whenever he tried to act like he wasn’t watching your every move.
And Sol? Sol was easy.
If he wanted to claim you with his rough touches, his dark glares, the way his arm would tighten around your waist just a little too much whenever another guy so much as looked at you—then you’d let him. But only just enough to keep things interesting.
Because you weren’t about to make this easy for either of them.
You’d walk into the room wearing Geo’s hoodie—just to watch Sol’s jaw clench. You’d let Sol touch you in front of Geo—just to catch the way his fingers twitched, his lips pressing into a thin line. You’d let their possessiveness fuel the game, and oh, was it a fun game to play.
Because at the end of the day, again...
You were the prize. And you knew it.
And what better way to start than with Geo?
Again, Geo was the kind of guy who never had to try too hard. Everything about him exuded effortless control—his tailored clothes, his rich upbringing, the way his hair was always just right like he walked straight out of some high-end fashion editorial.
Bilingual, top of his class, a sharp mind that dissected everything in the room before anyone even realized they were being watched.
Now, you wouldn’t call him perfect, but he was definitely a step above the average man. And that, in itself, was dangerous. Because Geo wasn’t just good at handling himself. 
He was good at handling you. PFFF, I love this man.
And it was funny, really. He liked to act like he didn’t care—like he wasn’t watching your every move, like he wasn’t quietly attuned to your habits. But that was the biggest lie of all.
Geo noticed everything.
He knew when you were irritated before you even sighed. Knew you were hungry before you even glanced at the menu. Knew what to say to make you laugh, even when you swore you weren’t in the mood. He was calculated—never too distant, but never too obvious.
You knew exactly how to use Geo’s attentiveness to your advantage. He was clever, a little too clever sometimes, but that made him so much more fun to tease. So, when you casually invited him to hang out during one of your long gaps between classes—just the two of you—you made sure Sol was close enough to overhear.
You didn't even have to try hard.
Sol always seemed to be near where you were. Always.
He had this uncanny ability to be in the right spot at the right time. You'd find him lingering in the background, sometimes in doorways, sometimes leaning against walls like he was just passing by, yet always managing to stay just out of sight, barely making his presence known. The look in his eyes, though? You couldn’t miss it.
You watched as his gaze snapped to you the second you leaned in closer to Geo. His fingers twitched like he was holding back some kind of primal urge to pull you away from Geo. But he stayed still, just watching, quietly simmering with frustration.
When Geo agreed, his voice casual and smooth, "Sure, I got nothing better to do," you could almost feel the storm brewing behind you.
And you loved it.
You chose the place carefully. A small bakery, nestled just off-campus. It was cozy, and intimate, yet open enough that no one could barge in without causing a scene.
You knew Sol wouldn’t come in unless he had a reason—he wasn’t stupid, after all. It was one of those rare moments when you actually wanted some peace, to be able to enjoy your time with Geo without the constant interruption of Sol’s overbearing presence.
Geo sat across from you, his posture impeccable, legs crossed and back straight as if he was molded into the seat. His hands rested lightly on the table, fingers tapping softly, the rhythmic sound of it mingling with the soft hum of campus life around you.
Students typed away on their laptops, murmured conversations floated around you, and the occasional professor huddled in the corner grading papers. The place felt like the calm center of a storm—a comfortable space for both of you.
He looked at you, curiosity flashing in his eyes. "Why'd you pick here?" he asked, voice low, yet that sharp edge still noticeable beneath his calm facade. He propped his chin in his hand, elbow on the table, his fingers tapping idly against his cheek.
You shrugged, playing it cool. “I don’t know. The only place I can think of.”
Geo’s lips twitched then sighed, "Okay." His tone was amused, but there was an undeniable hint of intrigue there.
You both sat there for a moment, letting the tension simmer. Then, as if by instinct, Geo stood, his movements graceful and effortless. "You want anything? I'll pay" he asked, already moving toward the counter before you could even respond. See, what a man, he's paying already AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO ASKKK.
Minutes later, he returned, sliding your usual drink toward you—no questions asked. It was like he had memorized your preferences by heart. He placed a small plate beside it too, something extra—probably dessert, because he knew you liked sweets, and his attention to detail was uncanny.
You reached for it, your fingers brushing his in the process. It wasn’t intentional, but that fleeting touch sent a ripple through you. For a moment, neither of you pulled away. 
Geo’s gaze flickered to your hand again, sharp and perceptive.
"Your hand," he murmured softly, his voice taking on that subtle edge of concern. His eyes dropped to the small scrape, and for a second, you felt like it was more than just a casual observation—like he was searching for something beneath the surface.
You blinked, unsure how to respond. "You can see that?"
You had almost forgotten about the scrape, honestly. It had happened the day before when you’d tripped going up the stairs—nothing serious, just a small misstep as you were rushing between classes. You remembered cursing under your breath as you caught yourself on the railing, but the scrape was just a small inconvenience, easily forgotten in the chaos of your day.
Geo didn’t answer immediately. His fingers reached out, slow and measured, brushing across the skin of your palm where the scrape had left a thin red line. His touch was light at first, just skimming over the wound, but then it became more deliberate, more intentional as if he was examining it for signs you couldn’t even see.
His fingers tilted your hand gently, his touch soft but firm, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver up your arm. The way he lingered, taking his time to inspect the scrape, felt almost… protective.
It wasn’t just the act of touching you—it was the focus, the way he seemed to memorize the small details, the way your skin felt against his. Holy shit.
"What happened?" He asked. Then, when his eyes lifted to meet yours again, the intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. There was something more than concern there—something deeper, something soft that you couldn’t quite place.
"Why are you looking at me like that? The fuck," he asked his face now in disbelief, voice very much audible. His tone was almost conversational, but there was an edge to it, an unspoken command.
It was your face. And I MEAN YOUR FACE, eyes were shocked, and lips were barely open, still showing teeth. You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the question. For some reason, you felt like you were being tested—like he wasn’t just asking about the scrape, but about you.
"It's nothing." You said, looking away, rather annoyed. Like damn, he always messes up moments like this. "To answer your question, I tripped going up the stairs yesterday," you said, your voice soft, trying to make it sound casual. "Nothing serious. I just lost my balance, and scraped my hand a little on the railing."
Geo didn’t respond right away. He just continued to watch you with that unreadable look in his eyes, like he was trying to figure out something you hadn’t said. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles again, slow and deliberate, and you felt the heat of his touch linger long after he pulled his hand away.
“I’m fine, really,” you murmured, trying to brush it off, but the way he held your gaze made it feel like there was more to this—more to him—than just a simple question about a scrape.
“Okay, if you say so,” he said, his voice low, his thumb lingering a moment longer as though he was reluctant to let go. The space between you seemed to shrink with every passing second, and you felt an undeniable pull, a magnetism that you weren’t sure you could escape. 
And as he finally pulled back, letting your hand slip from his, you couldn’t help but feel that odd, electric tension still hanging in the air. If your heart skipped a beat at the lingering warmth from Geo’s touch, well… that was between you and him. 
The next day, you were sitting next to Sol, his usual spot on the college roof where he always claimed the corner near the ledge, as his friend Hyugo went to town on the packed lunch Sol had made for him. 
You could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Sol was pissed—furious, to be exact—but he wasn’t going to tell you that. Not directly. Oh no, that wasn’t his style. He wouldn’t admit to stalking you hanging out with Geo, not even in the vaguest sense. So, you had to work for it.
You hadn’t even taken a full bite of your food before Sol was already speaking. "You made lunch today?" he asked, his voice far too casual. But you could hear the undercurrent of something. Was it jealousy? Possessiveness?
You paused, spoon halfway to your mouth, and gave him a look so casually, "No, Geo made it for me," you answered nonchalantly, barely glancing at him.
That stopped Sol cold. You saw his grip on his water bottle tighten, his expression faltering for just a moment. 
Hyugo, who had been enthusiastically chewing his food, even slowed down to glance at the both of you, like 'bitch what?'. "My little brother??" He blinked, the surprise in his voice unmistakable.
"Yeah," you said with a shrug, pushing your hair back out of your face. "We went out to a bakery yesterday. We had leftovers, so Geo made this for me and added his own cooking. Claim he had too much but I know he's lying,"
You made a show of taking a bite of that food, GEO's FOOD. Trying to act casual, but you could tell Sol was barely holding it together. His face remained unreadable, but you could practically feel the simmering irritation in the air.
"H-Have fun?" Sol’s voice suddenly went tight—too tight. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze flickered between you and Hyugo as if he were struggling to hold back something.
You grinned, knowing exactly what was happening. "Yup."
Sol’s grip on his water bottle tightened even more, the plastic creaking under his fingers. "Really?" His voice was lower now, tinged with something darker. The possessiveness was unmistakable.
You leaned back slightly, savoring the moment. "Mhm. Geo’s actually pretty great company, you know."
And that was it. That was the exact moment you saw something snap in Sol’s expression. His jaw tightened, muscles twitching with barely contained rage. His gaze darkened to something dangerous, something you didn’t quite recognize but felt all the way down your spine. His hand, which had been resting on the ledge beside you, clenched into a fist, almost as if he were physically fighting the urge to pull you closer.
You could practically feel the heat radiating off him, the raw jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior. 
Next was Sol, of course.
You see, Sol was on the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of lifestyle compared to Geo. Dyed hair, dark clothes, the entire emo aesthetic. But damn, despite all that edge, Sol never failed to make your jaw drop with the simplest actions. 
The way he carried himself, that intense gaze, the way his presence seemed to swallow the air around him. He was a walking contradiction—grungy yet perfectly composed, dangerous yet captivating.
You watched him for a moment, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, leaning slightly toward him, you tilted your head, voice light as you broke the tension. "So, Sol... what are you doing tonight?"
He glanced at you quickly, but then his eyes slid back toward the ground, pretending to be nonchalant. "Nothing, why?" His voice was cool, but you could tell he was listening, waiting for your next words with that quiet intensity of his.
"How about we do something together?" you asked casually, making sure to catch his gaze, letting him know this wasn’t just an idle suggestion. "A little... escape from the usual?" For a split second, you saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes—he wasn’t sure if he should be pissed or if he was genuinely interested. 
You leaned in a little closer, watching his every move, waiting for the shift. "Maybe the arcade? Or the rooftop bar downtown?" you continued, a playful grin tugging at your lips as you named the places that were always ‘off-limits’ in some way—places where neither Geo nor any of his calculated controlled habits would be there to shadow you. 
You could feel Sol’s pulse race, his curiosity piqued, but you both knew he wasn’t going to admit it.
His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. You waited, knowing Sol was contemplating the idea with that unreadable look on his face. Then, with a slight shift in posture, he leaned back, crossing his arms. "Why not both?" he finally said, his voice low and laced with that underlying tension.
You couldn’t help but smirk, a triumphant little rush sweeping over you. "Thought you’d say that."
He tilted his head at you, a challenging gleam in his eyes. "You’re lucky I’m in the mood for it."
But you knew the truth: he wasn’t just in the mood for it. Sol was making this choice for a reason. He was staking his claim, showing you exactly what you meant to him, even if he wasn’t saying it outright.
"Let’s go then," you said, pushing up from the ledge and grabbing your bag. "I’ll drive."
You and Sol ended up at the arcade bar, the dim lighting, neon signs, and the sounds of games and laughter buzzing in the background. The place was filled with the usual mix of drunk college kids, rowdy groups playing shooting games, and couples lost in the flashing lights. The air smelled faintly of beer and popcorn, and the low hum of music blended with the clinking and clattering of game machines. 
You walked up to the claw game, your eyes immediately spotting a small plush sitting just out of reach, nestled between other stuffed animals. A mischievous grin tugged at your lips as you studied the claw’s movement. 
"Can you get it for me, Sol?" you asked innocently, but there was a hint of playful challenge in your tone. 
Sol raised an eyebrow at you, his lips twitching into that familiar, knowing smirk. "I’m not your personal claw machine expert, you know."
"Oh, come on. You’re good with your hands, aren’t you?" you teased, turning your head to meet his gaze, making sure he saw the way your fingers twitched at the machine's controls.
Sol didn’t reply right away, just watching you, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. His gaze followed your every move, always studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t quite crack. You didn’t expect him to move just yet, though—because you had a plan. 
The claw machine was already set up for failure in your favor. You purposefully timed your moves to keep missing the plush, missing the claw’s target by mere inches each time. It was an art at this point, a silent dance between you and the machine. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Sol stepping up behind you. The warmth of his body pressed against yours for just a moment, the heat of him radiating even through the buzz of the arcade. His breath was warm against your ear, and you could feel his chest rise and fall just behind you as he watched, his body too close for comfort, too close to be innocent.
“You’re missing the timing," Sol’s voice was low, almost a growl, as he leaned down just enough for his nose to brush against the side of your hair. You could feel the weight of his presence behind you, feel the way his hands hovered just above yours, ready to step in if you let him. "You need to wait for the claw to line up perfectly before you move it. Let it hang for a second longer."
You shivered slightly, the sound of his voice in your ear making something inside you stir. The combination of his closeness and the tension from the game made your heart race, your hand still hovering over the joystick.
"Show me," you murmured, your voice a little more breathless than you intended, the excitement of the moment taking over.
Sol didn’t hesitate. His hand brushed over yours, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist as he guided your movements, his body pressing further into yours. The subtle brush of his chest against your back made your breath hitch in your throat.
He adjusted your grip on the joystick, his fingers briefly brushing your skin as he gently moved your hand to line up the claw with the black cat. His breath, warm and steady, ghosted against your ear as he spoke again, a soft command mixed with a hint of amusement. "Now, wait for it…"
You could feel his heart beating against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the growing tension in your chest. His thumb brushed over your wrist lightly as you waited, the seconds dragging on forever.
And then, in a move so precise, you almost didn’t see it, the claw dipped down, catching the plush perfectly. You both watched in silence as it rose, bringing the plush toy closer and closer and finally dropping it into the prize chute. "Got it," you said, the words almost a whisper but filled with a triumphant smile. 
Sol stepped back, his body leaving a sudden chill in the space where he’d just been pressed against you. You turned to face him, only to see the satisfied, yet somehow unreadable expression on his face.
He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you as you picked up the plush, holding it in your hands like it was some kind of prize—not just the one you won from the claw game.
"You’re welcome," Sol muttered under his breath, but the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his lips barely twitched into something close to a smirk, told you everything you needed to know.
The next day, after classes, you found yourself lounging in the usual spot outside the campus café, the one with the low-sunk benches and worn-out cushions, perfect for chilling when the afternoon sun warmed everything just right.
Crowe and Geo were the only ones free—everyone else was busy with their own afternoon classes, leaving the three of you with some time to kill. 
You’d already had your morning classes earlier, just like Crowe and Geo, getting the heavy lifting out of the way so you could enjoy the rest of the day without the looming shadow of assignments or exams. It was quiet, just the hum of conversations from other students and the occasional passing car. 
Crowe casually leaned back in his seat, fiddling with his phone, but then his gaze landed on the plush you had won at the arcade bar last night. The small plush sat beside you, nestled in your arms. It was barely noticeable unless you were paying attention, but Crowe definitely noticed.
"You went to the arcade bar last night, huh?" he remarked casually, lifting an eyebrow as his eyes flicked over to the plush. "Looks like you had fun. You win that?" He pointed to the black cat in your lap, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you shrugged. "Yeah, had a pretty good time." You could almost feel Crowe’s curiosity growing, but you didn’t give him too much to work with. You weren’t sure if you were ready to delve into the details of your night just yet.
But before you could say anything else, Geo, who’d been unusually quiet up until now, spoke up, his tone casual yet probing. "Did you go with Brittany?" he asked, his gaze flickering briefly toward you as he leaned forward slightly.
You tilted your head, giving him a sideways glance. "No," you replied with a small, knowing smile. "I went with Sol."
Crowe’s eyes widened slightly at that, his interest piqued. "Sol?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "The guy you partner up with in your art gen ed?"
You nodded, glancing at Geo from the corner of your eye. "Yeah. That's him."
For a moment, the conversation seemed to stall. Geo’s expression didn’t change, but you could feel his energy shift slightly, the subtle tension in the air thickening. His eyes remained cool, distant, like always—but there was something just beneath the surface. A flicker. A brief crack in his calm, and then it was gone, leaving you wondering if you’d imagined it. 
Crowe, however, seemed much more openly intrigued. "Didn't know you two hung out like that," he said, still grinning. "Interesting."
You met Geo's eyes again, but this time, he was looking at the table, fingers tapping lightly against his cup. His face was as unreadable as ever, but the way he had asked about Brittany—so focused, so sharp—left you with a sense of unease. It was subtle, but there.
You couldn’t help but watch him for a beat longer than necessary, but Geo’s cool demeanor didn’t crack. If he was feeling anything, he wasn’t showing it.
"Yeah," you said again, your voice quieter now as you let the weight of your words sink in. "Sol’s... something."
Crowe raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Something, huh?" He leaned in a little closer, his playful teasing tone back. "Sounds like you're keeping some secrets from us."
You just shrugged again, keeping the mystery between you all. You didn’t need to explain yourself. Not yet, anyway.
The rest of the conversation drifted off, but you could feel Geo’s eyes flicking to you every so often like he was sizing something up. Whether it was the situation, you, or something else entirely, you couldn’t quite tell.
But for now, you weren’t going to push.
After all, this had been going on for months now—stretching into the current year. Geo and Sol—two men who had wormed their way into your thoughts in ways you couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t just when you were around them.
No, their presence lingered even when they weren’t there, like an unshakable hum in the back of your mind. It circled you constantly, like an orbit you couldn’t escape, especially as you sat in bed late at night, trying to focus on your homework.
Every time you’d start to make progress, one of them would pop into your head, their images uninvited and persistent.
Sometimes, you'd find yourself imagining them both vying for your attention at once—Geo, with his cool, almost aloof demeanor, and Sol, burning with that raw, intense energy he always carried.
You’d picture them both charming you at the same time, competing for your affections in some twisted game. You’d have to smack your head with a pillow to shake the thought loose, as if physical force could snap you back into reality.
Geo: the silent, brooding menace who could make you feel like the only person in the room with just a glance.
And then there was Sol: the human equivalent of a forest fire—intense, consuming, and just a little bit unhinged.
Each of them pulled at your heart in a very different way, and frankly? It was ruining your life.
Class should’ve been simple, but nope. Your mind kept spiraling between the two of them like some shamelessdaydreamer. This was supposed to be a harmless little game—a fun flirtation. You weren’t supposed to actually catch feelings.
And yet, here you were, caught in a ridiculous mental tug-of-war. You knew you couldn’t have both. You weren’t thatkind of person. Right?
…Right?
But the thought just wouldn’t leave. It sat there. Mocking you.
You groaned, running a hand down your face. It’s not like you could just—
…Oh god.
You couldn’t have a threesome with them.
That was insane. Insane.
You let out a quiet, awkward laugh at the mere idea of it. Geo and Sol? Together? Working together? As if. Those two could barely exist in the same airspace without someone looking ready to throw hands.
They’d sooner kill each other than ever—
Unless…
Before you could delve deeper into that increasingly absurd—and wildly tempting—thought, a voice cut through your spiraling thoughts.
"Hey, you good?"
You blinked, snapping back to reality, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. There was Sol, standing over you, his pen set down on the table in front of you. His hand—big and warm—reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear with a simple, almost gentle touch. 
It was something so small, so subtle, but it completely threw you off. 
Your breath caught in your throat, and you had to cough to cover the sudden rush of heat flooding your chest.
Shit.
"You sure?" Sol’s voice was low and steady, but there was a note of concern in it that caught you off guard. His eyes lingered on you, studying your face, as if trying to decipher what was going on behind your cool exterior. "That look on your face says otherwise."
You quickly shook your head, trying to brush it off, though you knew it didn’t quite work. “I’m fine, really,” you said, though your voice had a slight edge to it—irritation creeping in. Why was he always so perceptive? It made you uncomfortable.
Sol didn’t buy it. Of course, he didn’t. He stood there, watching you with that intense gaze of his, making you feel like he could see right through you. Maybe you weren’t fine. Maybe the situation was more complicated than you'd like to admit, and maybe, just maybe, he was the one who could throw you off balance with just a touch.
But no, you wouldn’t let him know that. Not yet. You were fine.
You were just… fine. Right?
Fuck no.
Art class ended, and the moment the bell rang, you bolted out of the classroom, making a quick escape. You needed to get away—fast. The building seemed endless, but you were determined to make it out as you pushed the glass door open before you ran into anyone who would slow you down.
But as you rounded the corner, you collided with something—no, someone. Strong arms caught you before you could stumble back. You looked up to find Geo standing there, an unreadable expression on his face, clearly waiting for you.
“Watch where you’re going,” Geo said, his voice steady, though there was an edge to it as he held you firmly. “Could’ve fallen.”
You sighed, rolling your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat from the sudden closeness. “I know,” you muttered, pulling away from his grip. But as you tried to step back, you could feel his gaze on you, like he could read you better than anyone else. 
Oh shit.
“Something wrong?” Geo asked, his tone softer, more probing now. He tilted his head slightly, studying your face.
You didn’t want to deal with this. Not here. Not with half the school walking by, eyes glued to the scene. You couldn’t bring yourself to make this anything public—not when the whole damn hallway was buzzing with life. You didn’t want to be an exhibit. 
“Nothing,” you snapped, avoiding his gaze as you turned to walk away, trying to make your steps as quick and purposeful as possible.
But of course, Geo wasn’t the type to let things slide. You could feel the weight of his footsteps behind you, steady like he wasn’t planning to let you go that easily.
You kept walking, the distance between you and him narrowing as he caught up with you, his presence heavy in the air.
“Don’t think I’m letting this go,” he said, his voice low and knowing. 
You almost wanted to tell him to drop it. To stop following you. But you couldn’t find the words. You’d rather deal with this alone in your studio apartment at your dorm building. Maybe just let the work pile up, let the hours drag on. You didn’t want to have this conversation—not now, not in front of everyone.
But as Geo walked behind you, you knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to let you hide from it.
You walked briskly toward your dorm, eager for the quiet refuge of your room. The noise of the campus buzzed around you, but you barely registered it. You needed a moment to think, to breathe, to escape the tension that had been building all day.
Just as you rounded the corner, ready to slip inside the safety of your dorm building, your luck completely betrayed you.
Sol stood in front of the door, arms crossed, his usual playful smirk replaced by something that looked almost like frustration. Behind you, you could feel Geo’s presence, steady and unyielding.
He’d caught up to you.
“Can I help you?” you muttered, not bothering to hide the irritation in your voice as you stopped short, staring at Sol’s casual stance.
Sol’s eyes flickered to Geo for a moment before focusing back on you. “So, what’s going on?” His voice was laced with amusement, but there was a clear edge to it, like he knew something you weren’t saying.
Geo didn’t speak at first, standing just behind you, as if guarding the space between you and Sol. He wasn’t making any moves to push past, but his presence was unmistakable, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.
You took a deep breath, hoping the annoyance that flared in your chest didn’t spill out as you spoke. “Nothing’s going on,” you said with heavy sigh, “I’m just trying to get to my dorm.”
“Oh, you’re trying to get to your dorm?” Sol repeated, his eyebrows lifting slightly, a mock sweetness to his voice. “How convenient. He’s with you.”
Geo shifted slightly behind you, his gaze on Sol but saying nothing. His silence was suffocating, like the calm before a storm, but you didn’t want to deal with it.
Not now. Not here.
“Seriously,” you said, your voice tight, trying to push past the bubbling frustration. “I’m not in the mood for this, okay? I’m not doing whatever game you two are playing. I just want some space.”
Sol stepped forward, blocking your path. “But space from what? From me? Or from Him?” He said, more like in a worried tone.
Your heart skipped, and the tension in your chest built up again. You had no idea what either of them wanted—if they were trying to get under your skin, if they were genuinely concerned, or if they just liked messing with you. 
Either way, you were getting frustrated.
Geo finally spoke, his voice low and even. “There’s right. If they want space, they should get it.”
Sol’s gaze shifted to him, then back to you. His lips pressed together in the way he did when he was trying to hold back. But the tension between them was palpable. You could feel the pull of it, both of them watching you, waiting for something. You weren’t sure what it was, but you knew you didn’t want to find out.
“So what’s it going to be?” Sol asked, his tone still light but sharper now, like a blade hidden under velvet.
You were fucked, weren’t you? 
Stuck between two guys who couldn’t seem to let you be, two men who both knew how to get to you in different ways. And for once, you didn’t know how to escape it. You didn’t know how to get them both to leave you alone. 
You had to choose your next words carefully, but for the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure what the right choice even was.
The silence hung thick between you, Sol and Geo, both of them locked in a battle of wills without saying much—yet it felt like everything was being said. You could feel the tension in the air, thick enough to suffocate.
Then, with the smallest crack in the quiet, it started.
“You can’t seriously be this fucking oblivious, can you?” Sol’s voice was sharp, a knife-edge cutting through the air. His eyes flared with a familiar anger, but there was something else there now—something that definitely screams jealousy.
Geo didn’t back down.
“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice, obviously sturdy just annoyed.
“Oh, you’re really gonna act like you don’t know now?” Sol snapped, taking a step forward, his gaze never leaving Geo. "You can clearly see they not some fucking toy for you to keep playing with. Can’t you see there’s already fucking exhausted from all of this? From you”
The words hit like a punch, but they weren’t aimed at you—not directly. Still, you could feel the weight of them, as if they were pulling you in, squeezing tighter and tighter.
You stood there, frozen. 
Your thoughts swirled in your mind—fuck this, you can’t deal with this now. 
You wanted to scream, to tell them to shut up and let you go, but the words never came. Instead, you just stared at the ground, feeling the pressure of the moment pressing down on you.
“Exhausted?” Geo’s scoff was low, almost bitter.
“They haven’t said a word to me about being tired of anything.” His eyes flicked to you, but for once, you didn’t meet his gaze.
You couldn’t. It would make it worse.
it wasn’t long that your name fell upon Geo lips, looking down at you, you refused to look before he for you face to look at you.
"You have something to tell me?” Geo asked.
Fuck. Things are definitely worse now because with that sudden touch oh Sol? Yeah, he’s not having it anymore.
“Hey get your hands off them” Sol’s voice was nearly a growl now, and you could feel the heat radiating off him like he was a flame ready to burn everything down.
"I’m not letting you have them.”
Geo’s response was immediate, and the words were like steel. “Oh, I don’t have to take anything from you. I’m not the one chasing them around pretending to be thier fucking savior.”
You winced at the word savior. It felt like everything was crumbling in on itself. The walls that you had spent so long trying to keep up—between them, between your feelings, between yourself—were crumbling into dust.
And you didn’t stop them. You didn’t say a word. The argument, as much as it was annoying you, felt easier than breaking the silence. It felt better than picking a side, better than making this worse.
Instead, you just stood there, eyes glued to the floor however listen with your heart racing as the fight between them escalated. Every word, every accusation, every harsh tone felt like a dagger.
This is your fault, isn’t it?
Playing a game between two possessive men... 
Yeah, you definitely fucked things up.
Sol stepped closer, his eyes flashing with a fierce intensity. “I’m not their savior. I just wanna make sure that they’re okay, you’re the one that’s stressing them."
Geo took a step forward, closing the space between them. “And who exactly said that? Last time I checked, you do not speak for them. How long are you gonna act like they belong to you, delusional ass.”
You could feel your pulse quicken as the anger between them seemed to rise, boiling over, threatening to explode. You were caught in the middle, a bystander to a fight that you caused.
And still, you did nothing. You didn’t speak, didn’t intervene. You just stood there, your heart hammering in your chest, trying to fight back the suffocating wave of frustration, fear, and exhaustion.
“Stop it,” you finally whispered, so quietly that neither of them seemed to hear it at first. But they were both too deep in their argument to notice.
"Stop," you said louder this time, your voice shaking but firm. “Just stop. I don’t want this.”
Geo and Sol froze at the sound of your voice, both of them pausing mid-sentence, and for a moment, you thought that maybe—just maybe—they might listen. But then Geo’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes filled with something unreadable.
“Look, I don’t need your help, either of you. I’m just… I just need some fucking space,” you said, your words sharp and exhausted, finally breaking the dam of silence that had been holding you in place.
You didn’t want to explain yourself anymore. .
Geo and Sol exchanged a brief, tense glance, but neither of them moved.
Your voice cracked slightly as you took another step back. “Please. Go away…”
Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, the weight of their eyes on your back like a burning brand. The silence between you all lingered as you left them standing there, words unfinished in the air. 
You didn't know what would come next, but for now, you needed to be alone.
You slammed the door behind you, leaning your forehead against the cool wood for a moment, just to collect yourself. The weight of it all hit you then—every little mistake, every decision that had led to this point. Slowly, you slid down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as if holding yourself together was the only thing left you could do.
You hated this.
Hated the mess you’d made.
Hated that you thought you could handle it, that you could juggle them both without consequences. The worst part? You didn’t even really know what you were hoping for—what you thought would happen. You had an idea, but now that you were here, it felt like you’d just stepped into your own trap.
You cared for both of them, deeply. And as much as that made your chest ache, you couldn’t forget that they were adults, just like you. They were capable of making their own decisions, and this mess? It was your doing. You let it spiral. 
With a deep sigh, you finally pulled off your shoes and tossed them aside, already thinking about the shower you desperately needed. Maybe, just maybe, they'd be chill by the time you were done. 
But, fuck, who were you kidding?
This was far from over.
Meanwhile, Geo exhaled sharply through his nose, the tension in his shoulders growing with every missed shot. The arrow barely scraped the target this time, and he clicked his tongue in frustration.
It wasn’t like him to miss. His hands were steady, his breathing controlled—but his mind? His mind was an absolute mess.
Because of you.
Five damn calls. Five times he let it ring, only to get nothing in return. He had half a mind to try again, but instead, he shoved his phone into his pocket and shot off a final text.
I’ll leave you alone.
And yet, the moment he sent it, he regretted it. He didn't want to leave you alone. That was the whole problem, wasn’t it?
Before he could dwell on it, a voice cut through the air.
“So, you think you’re funny, huh?”
Geo didn’t even flinch. He already knew who it was before he turned his head. Sol was standing in the archery room now, door shut behind him, posture loose but his eyes sharp.
Geo rolled his eyes, lowering his bow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, emo.”
That was the last straw.
In a blink, Sol had grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward, their faces inches apart. Geo barely had time to process the shift before Sol’s voice came low and dark.
“Don’t start that ignorant bullshit,” Sol growled, fingers tightening in Geo’s shirt. “I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me look like an ass.”
Geo let out a breath of laughter, cool and effortless, but there was an edge to it. “Me? I didn’t do anything.” His smirk deepened the glint in his eye anything but apologetic. “You do that enough as it is.”
Sol’s grip tightened, knuckles whitening. His eyes were burning, brimming with something dangerously close to fury.
Geo just sighed.
Sol’s jaw twitched, his fingers still tight in Geo’s collar as he narrowed his eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" His voice was low, filled with jealousy. "You’re obsessed. You keep trying to prove you’re better than me—so much so that you’d stoop this low?"  
Geo let out a quiet scoff, his expression unreadable. "Obsessed?" He tilted his head slightly, considering the word. "If I were obsessed, you wouldn't even be able to breathe near them." His voice was smooth, even. "I trust them. I respect them. That’s what this is. You? You just want control."  
Sol's grip wavered for half a second before his teeth clenched. "That’s some bullshit ass-kissing if I’ve ever heard it."  
Geo’s smirk barely faltered. "And yet, you’re the one constantly up their ass for attention." He leaned in just slightly, voice dropping lower, colder. "How about you try treating them like a normal person instead of acting like you own them?"  
Sol's expression darkened, however Geo didn’t move, didn’t even blink.
Damn, he really don’t care nonchalant ass.
Then, with deliberate slowness, Geo reached up and pried Sol’s fingers off his collar, brushing himself off as if the whole thing had been a minor inconvenience.  
"I’d say grow up," Geo muttered, turning away, "but we both know that’s never happening."
Sol let out a short, humorless laugh. "I have no problem settling this with my fists, you know." His tone was sharp, a direct challenge.  
Geo rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Right, because that’s always worked so well for you." He adjusted the strap on his archery gear, not even looking at Sol as he spoke. "You can threaten me all you want, but we both know neither of us would like where that road leads."  
Sol’s fingers twitched. His patience was razor-thin. "Tch." His brows furrowed, annoyance flickering across his face. "You always got that smug, rich asshole act going, huh?" He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "News flash, dude—just because you’ve got money and pretty looking doesn’t mean you're better than me."  
Geo finally turned to face him, completely unfazed. "Never said I was." He packed up the rest of his things, moving with an infuriating amount of calm. Then, as he reached the door, he paused. Looking over his shoulder, he sighed.  
"And?" His voice was light, almost teasing. "At least I’m not some crazy ‘yandere’ lover."  
That was it. Sol’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. 
Oh, this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Neither of them were backing down.  
Not until you choose.  
You stepped outside, and the cold hit you first—a stark contrast to the warmth of your dorm, where you had been holed up for the past week. The wind carried the faint chatter of students, the distant sound of traffic blending with the occasional echo of laughter.
The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee from the campus café lingered in the air, but even that didn’t soothe the tension coiling in your chest.  
The campus felt the same, unchanged as if the world had continued spinning without you. And yet, to you, everything felt different. The space between each step felt heavier, your mind was unwilling the overthink thoughts.
You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, fingers clenching the fabric as you moved toward the main part of campus. It should’ve felt freeing, stepping out again, stretching your legs after days of isolation. But instead, a strange unease settled in your gut, an unshakable tension that refused to leave.  
You sighed, pulling out your phone, and you flicked through your notifications.  
Missed Calls: 15+
Messages Unread: 10+
Both are from Sol and Geo.
You sighed, rolling your eyes at yourself. You really should call them back.  
But which one?  
If you called Geo first, Sol would find out—one way or another. If you called Sol, Geo would know. Those two could be halfway across the world from each other, and they’d still figure it out.  
Just your luck.  
You stared at your phone, thumb hovering over the screen. A part of you thought about just ignoring them both for another day—but you already knew that wouldn’t last.  
So...
Who first?
✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You inhaled deeply, feeling the moment's weight settle over you as you stared at Sol’s contact on your phone screen. The decision to finally call him had been a long time coming, but now that it was here, your stomach churned with the uncertainty of what might follow.
You tapped the screen, watching the call ring, each second stretching longer than the last.
The phone barely rang twice before he picked up.
"You finally decided to call," he said, his voice lower than usual—quieter, almost softer, but there was an edge to it. Not anger. Not relief. But something else that you couldn’t quite place. The words hung in the air, a strange mixture of resignation and something else that made your chest tighten.
You hesitated, guilt gnawing at your insides. You’d kept your distance for so long. Too long. And now, hearing his voice—so calm, but threaded with an unmistakable undercurrent of tension—it felt almost like a punch to the gut. "Yeah. I figured it was about time," you said, your voice steady despite the roiling anxiety beneath the surface.
There was a long pause on the other end, just the faintest sound of him exhaling—a sigh of sorts. You could almost hear the weight of the silence before he spoke again. 
"You okay?"
The simplicity of the question threw you off. You expected sarcasm, irritation—hell, even some passive-aggressive jabs would’ve been easier to handle. But this? It was genuine. A rawness in his tone that cut through everything else. He was asking, not because he wanted something, but because he actually cared. And that scared you.
You swallowed, fighting the lump in your throat, unsure of how to answer. "I—yeah. I just needed time," you said, the words coming out quieter than you intended.
"I get that now," he replied after a beat, the faint rasp in his voice betraying something deeper. "But I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t like it."
His honesty hit you harder than you expected. It wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but somehow, it felt like a relief. Sol wasn’t the type to mince words, and in this moment, you knew exactly where he stood. You weren’t sure what you were expecting from this conversation, but it was clear that what you’d put off for so long was finally catching up to both of you.
There was another long silence, the kind that settled heavy between you, and you could almost feel him on the other side of the phone, waiting, unsure of what you were going to say next. 
"Can we talk?" you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you could second-guess them. The finality of it surprised you—this was it. The moment you’d both been dancing around for too long.
Sol was quiet for a second, the kind of silence that stretched just a little too long, leaving you hanging on the edge of the conversation, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. You held your breath, waiting. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, though still laced with that familiar edge of uncertainty. 
"You sure?" he asked, the words carrying a subtle weight, as though he were wondering if this was something you both could handle.
"I wouldn’t be calling if I wasn’t," you replied, your voice firmer now. You weren’t going to back down. You needed to talk. You needed answers. And maybe, just maybe, you needed him.
There was a shift in his tone, like a decision had been made. A soft exhale followed by the sound of movement on his end, maybe him shifting in his seat, maybe running a hand through his hair. You could almost picture it—Sol, leaning back, thinking, processing everything that had happened. 
"All right," he said finally. "Art classroom. After classes. The door’s open."
The way he said it made your heart skip. It wasn’t just an invitation—it was a call to meet, a place where things could be sorted. He wasn’t forcing it, but there was no mistaking the gravity in his words. He wanted to talk, too.
You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. "Okay," you replied, the single word carrying more weight than anything else you could’ve said.
"Good," Sol responded, his tone softer now. "See you then."
The call ended with a click, and for a moment, you just stood there, holding the phone in your hand, staring at the screen. You didn’t know what would happen next, but you couldn’t keep running anymore. Whatever was between you and Sol—it was time to face it. 
Whatever happened, you would figure it out.
With a heavy sigh, you set the phone down, bracing yourself for whatever this conversation would bring. You couldn’t avoid it any longer.
The air outside was crisp, the warmth of the midday sun barely cutting through the lingering chill of early spring. Students filtered across the courtyard in waves, either rushing to their next class or loitering in clusters, laughing and chatting like nothing in the world could touch them.
You wished you could feel that kind of ease right now. Instead, the weight of unfinished business pressed against your chest as you stepped out of the building, prepared to put as much distance between yourself and the past week's tension as possible.
Then you saw him.
Geo.
Leaning against a pillar near the main walkway, his phone in hand, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t looking at you—not directly—but you knew him well enough to recognize the way his posture shifted, the subtle tilt of his head.
He’d been waiting for you. Your stomach tightened. Great.
Your grip on your bag strap tightened as you debated walking right past him. Maybe he’d let you go. Maybe you could avoid whatever this conversation was going to be—at least for a little longer.
But you knew better.
Geo wasn’t the type to let things slide, not when something was clearly bothering him. And sure enough, just as you tried to step around him, his voice cut through the noise of passing students.
"Hey."
You exhaled sharply, stopping in your tracks. “Hey, Geo.”
Finally, he lifted his gaze. Sharp, assessing—searching.
For what? You weren’t sure.
Whatever he saw in your face made something in his expression tighten, but he didn’t press immediately. Instead, he pushed off the pillar with an easy, practiced motion, sliding his hands into his pockets as he fell into step beside you.
Like this was normal. It wasn’t.
The silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy. You weren’t sure what to say, and for once, Geo didn’t immediately break it with some casual comment.
Then, a familiar voice cut through the tension.
"Okay, this is getting awkward as hell."
You turned to see Crowe standing a few feet away, arms crossed, one brow arched in amusement.
Geo scoffed. "No one's talking to you, Jericho.”
"Yeah, well, someone's gotta say it," Crowe shot back, stepping closer. He looked between you and Geo before sighing. "All right, real talk? You two need to clear the air, 'cause this weird-ass tension? It's making everyone uncomfortable."
Your stomach twisted. You knew it. Of course, the group had noticed. Even if you had spent the past week avoiding everyone, the energy between you and Geo—between you, Geo, and Sol—had lingered like a stain.
You exhaled sharply. "Crowe, not now."
"Then when?" Crowe challenged. "You can’t keep dodging this forever. And I know damn well Geo won’t drop it."
You flicked a glance at Geo, and sure enough, he was watching you carefully. He hadn’t denied it.
You rolled your shoulders, trying to shake the weight pressing down on you. “I just—” You cut yourself off, sighing again.
Geo spoke then, low and even. "I just want to talk."
It was that simple. Yet, it wasn’t.
Crowe tilted his head, giving you a pointed look. "So?"
You hesitated. You had already agreed to see Sol later. Adding Geo into the mix now? It felt like asking for trouble.
But at the same time…
You swallowed. “Fine. Let’s talk.”
Geo nodded once, slipping his hands into his pockets. Crowe grinned like he had just won something.
"Good. Now, I’m gonna leave before I end up in the middle of some dramatic lovers' quarrel." He spun on his heel and walked off, muttering under his breath about “...people and their complicated ass relationships.”
You took a slow breath, turning to Geo. “Where do you wanna do this?”
He gestured ahead. “Walk with me.”
You nodded. And with that, you fell into step beside him, feeling the weight of everything unsaid press down on you. Geo's silence as you walked together was unnerving, but not unusual. You had known him long enough to recognize when he was working something out in his head, dissecting information and piecing together a bigger picture.
And then—
"You're going to see him, aren't you?"
You froze for half a second before narrowing your eyes at him.
“How do you—”
Geo sighed, but there was no amusement in his expression.
"You just gave yourself away."
Fuck.
You clenched your jaw, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder. “.....I have to talk to him,” you admitted, voice measured.
Geo hummed, as if considering something, then tilted his head. "Because you like him?"
That stopped you. You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. The words were there, pressing against your tongue, but they refused to come out.
Geo exhaled sharply, leaning his head back before looking at you again, his usual cool demeanor cracking just slightly. "You need to stay away from him." His voice was firm, but not commanding—like he was trying to warn you rather than control you.
"He’s not what you think he is."
You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Oh, what, you’re jealous now?”
Geo didn’t react right away, just watching you with an unreadable expression. You turned to leave, deciding you were done with this conversation, but before you could take more than two steps, his hand caught yours.
Not forcefully. Not to restrain. Just… holding.
You hesitated, glancing back at him. His fingers were warm around yours, his grip firm but careful.
Geo clicked his tongue in irritation. "I'm serious." His voice lost its usual arrogance, dipping into something quieter, something almost… uncertain. His brows pulled together just slightly, frustration flickering in his expression before he masked it again. "Believe me."
You hesitated, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. Geo wasn’t the type to plead, not like this.
Your fingers twitched at your side before you sighed, shaking your head. “Geo.” Your voice carried a tired edge. “I’m gonna see him. Whether you like it or not.”
His jaw clenched. "Use that brain of yours, dumbass," he muttered, irritation bleeding into his words. His usual smugness was still there, but it was strained—forced. "You can see it, can't you? That emo-ass dude isn't a good person."
You met his gaze, expecting the usual annoyed expression, the knowing glint in his eye. But there was none of that. Just something kept inside, something restless.
Still, you shook your head, unwilling to back down.
"I’ll figure things out myself."
Geo scoffed, but it lacked its usual bite. "Fine. It's your funeral," He didn’t stop you. Just shoved his hands into his pockets, watching as you walked away—like he wanted to say more but didn’t know how.
The sun had already begun to set when you strolled to the art building, the cool evening air wrapping around you in a bracing hug. The campus was quieter than usual, the incessant buzz of student chatter silenced by the soft murmur of distant conversations and the occasional crackle of leaves.
You walked down the corridor, your footsteps rustling softly against the floors, and arrived at the door to the art studio.
You paused for a single second, your hand hovering over the doorknob, before turning it and entering. The room was little illuminated, the golden yellow tones of the dying sun seeping in through the high windows, lighting the lengthening shadows thrown across the scattered easels and unfinished works.
The smell of paint and graphite filled the air, a welcome familiarity. The soft rumble of a heater vibrated through the room, and the soft whisper of papers as someone shifted around was the only sound.
And there he was.
Sol was sitting on a stool in the center of the room, a sketchpad resting on his knees. His dark hair fell just a little too long over his eyes, his usual brooding expression eased in concentration. He didn't even notice you at first, completely absorbed in the pencil gliding across the paper.
You stood there for a moment, watching him, the way the soft light caught on his face, the tension in his posture, the slight frown of concentration as his hand glided with practiced ease.
It was like a moment frozen in time. 
You almost didn’t want to interrupt him. But then, just as you made a move to step forward, Sol looked up. His eyes met yours with that piercing gaze of his, dark and unreadable for a brief second. He blinked, his pencil pausing mid-air, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other.
He stood up slowly, pushing the stool back with a faint scrape of metal against the floor. His movements were deliberate, almost hesitant, as though he hadn’t quite expected you to actually show up. He stepped toward you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze settle on you like a heavy cloud.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Sol said, his voice low and slightly rough, like he had been waiting for this moment for a while. He took a few steps closer, his hands shifting awkwardly, unsure of what to do with them.
You didn’t answer right away, still trying to calm the nervous flutter in your chest. The tension between you two was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you had come here for a reason, and you weren’t going to back out now.
“Sol…” you started, your voice almost too quiet against the stillness of the room. You cleared your throat, meeting his eyes. “We need to talk.”
His expression shifted, ever so slightly, but you could tell he understood what you meant. There was a moment of hesitation, his lips pressing together tightly, before he nodded once, slowly.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something unreadable. “We do.”
He didn’t say anything else, just stood there for a second, letting the silence stretch out between you both. The space between you was intimate in a way that was almost suffocating, but you didn’t back away.
“I guess…” Sol started, breaking the silence with a soft chuckle, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s a good thing you came. I didn’t have anything better to do.” He paused, running a hand through his hair, his expression turning more serious.
“What exactly do you want to talk about?”
You chuckled softly, the sound almost a little hollow in the heavy atmosphere of the room. The absurdity of it all hit you then—how this had escalated, how you’d been caught between two men who seemed to be competing for your attention in ways you couldn’t quite understand or even fully control.
You couldn’t help but find it almost funny, the way both Geo and Sol had turned their jealousy into some kind of twisted competition, each trying to outdo the other. It had felt like a game at first, but now? Now, it was starting to weigh on you.
"You know," you said, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you finally broke the silence, "...it’s funny. The way you and Geo both get all... jealous. Like you both think it’s some sort of competition to see who can make me crack first."
Sol’s eyes narrowed slightly, a shift in his expression that you recognized. But you weren’t done yet.
"You both get under each other’s skin so easily, and it's... honestly kind of funny watching you two try to outdo each other," you continued, leaning against the edge of a nearby desk, arms folded. "But it’s exhausting too, don’t you think? Playing these mind games."
Sol stood there, jaw tight, his hands twitching by his sides as if he were trying to hold back whatever he wanted to say. His silence only fueled your need to vent more.
"Who’s more jealous?" you muttered under your breath, the words slipping out before you could even stop them. "You? Or Geo?"
Sol’s expression didn’t shift. He was standing there, his eyes scanning you, but you could see the flicker of frustration in them.
You could feel the tension rising, but you didn’t want to be here anymore—not like this.
The whole situation, the constant pull between them, was overwhelming, and it wasn’t just because they were being possessive. It was because you cared about both of them in ways you didn’t know how to explain.
You paused and shook your head, dropping your arms from your chest. “You know what? I can’t do this anymore.”
Sol’s gaze softened just a fraction as you spoke, and he stepped a little closer to you, though he was still keeping a distance. “Can’t do what?” he asked, his voice quieter, less biting now.
You sighed, your mind spinning. "I don’t want to be a part of this game anymore. The whole back and forth, the jealousy. I need peace." Your voice cracked slightly, and you hated how vulnerable it made you feel. "I don’t want to be the prize in some stupid contest."
Sol’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable. There was a long, heavy pause as you stared at him, fighting the urge to turn away.
“You’re here to let me down, then?” he asked, his voice rougher now, a hint of something darker in it that sent a chill down your spine. He was looking at you like he didn’t know what to make of you anymore.
"No," you said, shaking your head quickly. "I’m not here to let you down." You took a breath, steadying yourself before continuing.
"I just… I like you. I do." You started.
"I like you more than I care to admit, and that’s the truth."
There. You said it. Happy?
Out loud, right in front of him. Sad?
You had to admit it at some point, and there was no better time than now. It felt like a weight lifted off your chest, though the air still felt thick with tension.
Yeah, you lowkey still cared for Geo, but when it came down to it, you realized it was Sol you were drawn to the most.
His intensity, the way he never seemed to need to explain himself, the way he got under your skin without even trying—it had all tangled together in your mind in ways you couldn't ignore anymore.
Sol stared at you for a long moment, his gaze softening just slightly, but still guarded. He didn’t speak right away, and the silence between you both felt suffocating. His eyes flickered between your face and your lips as if trying to read you, understand you, but it seemed like you had caught him off guard.
"I..." he started, then paused, like he was choosing his words carefully. "You don’t know how fucked up this is," he muttered under his breath, his voice low. "I didn’t think you’d actually come here and say that."
You could feel the weight of the moment pressing in, everything hanging between the two of you. But you didn't regret it. Not really.
“I needed to say it,” you whispered, your gaze meeting his with as much certainty as you could muster. "I’m done with the games, Sol."
He took a step closer to you, his hand reaching out, but he didn’t touch you—not yet. He was still watching you, trying to figure out where you stood, and where this would go next.
Then suddenness of Sol’s movement caught you completely off guard. One moment, he was standing in front of you, his expression guarded and intense, and the next, he had you in his arms, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.
Before you could react, he spun you around and placed you against the cold surface of one of the long tables in the empty art classroom. The sound of it echoed in the otherwise quiet room, but you couldn’t focus on that. 
All you could focus on was him. 
His body was pressed against yours, pinning you down, and you felt the heat radiating off him. The sharpness in his gaze was unmistakable, his red-orange eyes darker now, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but could feel in your bones—a hunger, a possessiveness. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, and you froze, caught in the intensity of the moment.
"Sol," you whispered, your voice shaking with a mix of uncertainty and something else, something you couldn’t quite understand.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his hand grabbed your wrist, holding it down on the table beside you with a strength that left no room for resistance. You could feel the pressure of his grip, the way he was keeping you in place, making sure you didn’t move. His thumb brushed lightly over your pulse, sending a chill through you as his gaze lowered to your lips.
"I’ve been waiting for this," he murmured, his voice rough, as if it were a secret he’d been dying to share. "I should’ve made you mine sooner, pumpkin. Shouldn’t have let you slip away, should’ve known you were mine from the start."
Before you could respond, before you could even process the words, his lips crashed onto yours. It was fierce, desperate, and possessive, his kiss taking control immediately. His mouth was hot, demanding, and he pulled you closer, using his hold on your wrist to keep you trapped beneath him. 
Your breath caught in your throat as his lips moved against yours, and the more you tried to breathe, the tighter he pulled you. His body felt like a weight on top of you, keeping you locked in place. You tried to pull away, to create some distance, but his grip on your wrist tightened, and he growled low in his throat, making it clear that escape was not an option. 
Sol pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made you shiver. His breath was coming in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling as he stared down at you, his lips still slightly parted from the kiss.
"You’re mine now, pumpkin," he murmured, the words soft—too soft—but laced with something undeniable. Something that curled around you like chains, invisible but unbreakable. His fingers brushed against your skin, gently, but you knew better. There was nothing gentle about him, not when he looked at you like that.
His eyes, dark and unwavering, held yours captive. “I’ll keep you close. Not Geo, not anyone… Just me.”
The way he said it, sweet like a lover’s promise, yet suffocating in its certainty, sent a slow, creeping shiver down your spine. This wasn’t affection. It wasn’t even love. It was something else—something unshakable, something that left no room for escape.
His hold tightened, his lips ghosting over your ear as his breath fanned against your skin. “I’ll make sure you never forget that,” he whispered, the words sinking in like a vow, like a sentence.
Your breath hitched. The room felt smaller. His grip on your wrist, the weight of his presence—everything about him pulled you deeper into something you weren’t sure you’d ever get out of.
Sol wasn’t just the man you liked anymore. He was something more, something dangerous. And as much as you wanted to fight it, to pull away, the terrifying truth settled in the pit of your stomach.
You weren’t going anywhere.
Not unless he allowed it.
✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He's longer; sorry, I’m biased.
You stared at your phone for a long moment, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. You had spent the last week cooped up in your dorm, tangled in your own thoughts, unable to find peace with yourself or with them.
Sol and Geo... the constant pull between them had turned everything into a confusing mess. 
But now? You needed clarity. You needed someone who wouldn’t add more fuel to the fire, someone who would just listen without trying to one-up the other. Maybe you were kidding yourself—because this was Geo, after all. But you needed this.  
Taking a deep breath, you hovered your fingers over the screen, glancing at the missed calls again. Your pulse was racing, the anxiety of the choice settling in your chest. The last thing you wanted was to face this alone—but you also didn’t want to avoid it.  
After what felt like an eternity, you made the decision.
You called Geo.  
It rang one time before his voice answered, and you immediately felt the coldness in his tone, like he doesn't care but he's been secretly been waiting for this call.
“Hey, you cool now?”  
Yeah he's definitely upset but also quiet concern hidden beneath his brooding ass personality.
You rolled your eyes but also tried to steady your breath, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. You didn’t know how to explain it, so you didn’t try to. Instead, you just said what you needed to say.  
“I... I need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?”  
There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, you wondered if he was thinking it over. But he didn’t push for more information. He simply agreed, his voice calm and understanding.  
“Sure. Where do you want to meet?”  
You bit your lip, a brief moment of indecision hitting you. But then it came to you. "Where you at?"  
He paused for a beat before replying, “About to start classes, but later I have archery practice.”  
“Bet,” you said, your voice steadying. “I’m coming when you have practice.”  
Before he could say anything else, you hung up. The decision felt sudden like you were just throwing yourself into the unknown, but there was a strange sense of relief mixed with it.  
Damn, that really overwhelmed you.  
You leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment. The tension that had built up over the past few days began to loosen slightly—though you weren’t fooling yourself. There was still so much left unsaid.
The afternoon passed in a blur of lectures and assignments. Your mind kept wandering to your phone, to the call you had just made to Geo. Every time you tried to focus, the weight of everything from the past few weeks came crashing down on you again, clouding your thoughts. You hated the feeling of being so torn, but there was little you could do to change it now.  
After your last class, you quickly went to the campus snack shop. You grabbed a bag of chips and a couple of candy bars, trying to grab a bit of comfort before meeting up with Sol and Hyugo for lunch. The campus was busy with students, the energy of their conversations filling the air, but you felt strangely detached from it all.  
You reached the stairs leading to the roof, where you were supposed to meet them. The familiar sight of the door at the top of the stairs felt almost comforting, like a safe haven. But when you pushed the door open and stepped onto the roof, you only saw Sol.  
You paused, momentarily confused. 
The quiet hum of the city outside the campus walls mixed with the soft sound of wind brushing against the roof, creating a peaceful atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind.
But Sol?
He was there, leaning against the railing, his eyes fixed on the horizon. His usual sharp, confident demeanor softened in the warm sunlight, and there was a rare stillness about him, something you didn’t often get to see.
Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly shook it off, determined not to let yourself be distracted. You needed to focus, to stay grounded, even though everything felt like it was slipping away.
“Hey,” you called out, your voice cutting through the quiet air.
Sol turned to face you, his eyes scanning you for a moment, his gaze lingering longer than usual. You noticed the faint shadows beneath his eyes, signs of something deeper—a weariness that didn't quite match his usual carefree attitude. He straightened up slowly, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time.
“You’re late,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar teasing edge, but something about it felt off.  
You rolled your eyes, pulling out the snacks you’d bought and handing him a bag of chips before grabbing one for yourself. “I bought lunch. Where’s Hyugo?” you asked, looking around, expecting to see him somewhere nearby.
Sol’s smirk faltered, and he shifted his weight slightly, eyes briefly flicking away as if he were debating whether to say something. “He’s upset at me,” Sol said, his tone flat, almost defensive.
You blinked, caught off guard by the admission. “What? Why?”
Sol didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he leaned back against the railing, his eyes studying you for a moment as if he was weighing how much he wanted to reveal. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, but there was an edge to his voice now, something that made it clear there was more to the story.
You stared at him, wondering if you should press further, but before you could, Sol asked, “Are you meeting up with Geo today?”
The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated. 
The look in his eyes was tried, searching. It was as if he already knew the answer, but he was waiting for you to say it. You felt a wave of unease wash over you. Should you lie? Should you be truthful? You knew that whatever you said, Sol would know eventually through, and yet, you didn’t want to push him further.
You swallowed, unsure how to respond. Finally, you gave a small, uncertain nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah...” you said, almost as though you were answering a question you hadn't been ready to face.
The silence hung heavy between you and Sol, the wind carrying a cool edge that seemed to make everything feel even colder. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t even flinched as you shifted uneasily beside him, and when he spoke again, his voice was more urgent than before, more desperate.
“Don’t meet with him,” Sol said, his tone low but intense, like a warning. He was staring straight ahead, hands gripping the railing a little too tightly. 
You look at him, lost as hell, "What—" He cuts you off.
“He is from that rich society that happened to be kicked out of, and you know what that means."
You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head.
You didn't say anything. Ngl let's just hope he doesn't crash out.
"Long story short, you don’t belong in that world. It’s all fake, all about status and image. Why do you want to be with someone like that? Someone who looks at everything like it’s just a game for him?” His voice was laced with bitterness, the words tumbling out in a stream of disapproval, each one landing with a weight that made you feel suffocated.
You could feel his words digging into you, his frustration and anger clear, as though he had been holding this in for too long. The more he spoke, the more you could hear the layers of jealousy and resentment hidden beneath the surface.
“Why are you even considering him?” Sol went on, his eyes now locked on you, sharp and accusing. “You think he’s different, but trust me, he’s not. He’s nothing but a walking reflection of everything that’s wrong with that world. You’re just another thing to him, a new toy to play with before he gets bored. And you—”
Sol paused, his voice dipping, almost as if he was struggling to keep control of his emotions, “You’re smarter than that. You deserve better than to be some rich boy’s little distraction.”
Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration boiling inside you. You had been hearing this for days, and it was starting to feel like a broken record. His words kept echoing in your head, over and over, but with each passing second, it became harder to listen. 
You couldn’t take it anymore.
“Are you good?” You finally blurted out, your voice sharp with irritation, cutting through his tirade. “Are you seriously obsessed with me or something?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them, the question hanging in the air between you two like a live wire.
Sol’s expression faltered for just a moment, his eyes flashing with something unreadable, something that was maybe a little too close to the truth. But then, without warning, his face hardened again, the smirk returning to his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Sol muttered, more to himself than to you, turning his attention back to the skyline. His posture became stiff again, his shoulders drawn tight like he was bracing for something.
“You’re better off without him. Trust me on this.”
You felt your chest tighten as his words hung in the air, the tension between you thickening. A part of you was almost shocked that he’d go this far, but at the same time, you could sense that this wasn’t the first time he’d crossed a line like this.
His possessiveness, his obsession, it was always there, lurking just beneath the surface. 
You could feel it now, the weight of it pressing down on you.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the anger and frustration bubbled to the surface. "You're worthless," you spat out, the words sharp, like a knife cutting through the silence. "I don’t know what the hell you think this is, but I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours." Your voice trembled slightly, not from fear but from the sheer overwhelming weight of your emotions.
For a moment, Sol didn’t react.
He just stood there, his back turned to you, staring off into the distance, the wind tousling his hair. But you could feel the shift in the air, the subtle way the space between you seemed to shrink like he was about to snap.
And then he turned to face you, his eyes darker than before, something almost predatory in his gaze. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently, but firmly, take hold of your wrist. “Don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice low and almost dangerous, the words leaving a chill in the air. 
“You’re supposed to be mine, Pumpkin.”
He looks at you deeply, "You just don’t know it yet.”
His words hit you like a punch to the gut. For a split second, you almost felt like you were suffocating, caught in the intensity of his gaze and the suffocating grip he had on your wrist.
A part of you wanted to pull away, to fight, but another part of you—perhaps the one that was tired, exhausted from all the confusion and the constant pull between him and Geo—like shit this was tiring.
But Sol wasn’t going to let you go that easily.
“I can't see him.” His voice was soft, but the underlying threat was unmistakable. “You belong with me. You know that, don’t you? You feel it, too. You can’t deny it, not with how you look at me.”
The words burned through you, and despite everything, you felt a sick sense of dread settle in your stomach. “Stop,” you said, your voice trembling, trying to pull away from him. “You’re insane. You don’t own me. I’m not your fucking possession.”
Sol didn’t let go. His grip tightened just enough to make you wince, “You think I’m crazy?” he asked, his lips curling into a twisted smirk. “You have no idea, do you? I’d burn the world down just to keep you. And you want to play these games with him?” He stepped back for a moment as if letting the words sink in. 
“I thought I was so lucky you gave me a chance.”
There was a moment of silence, the weight of his words hanging between you, before he suddenly broke the fourth wall, his voice shifting slightly as if addressing something outside the moment, outside of reality itself.
“You think you can just walk away from this?” Sol’s voice was sharper now, more knowing, as if speaking directly to the reader, to the reality that existed beyond the world you were in. “Do you think you can make decisions like this without consequences? Without me getting involved?” His eyes gleamed with something unsettling. 
“You can’t run from me, not anymore.”
You felt your heart pounding in your chest as if it might burst from the pressure building inside. The world around you seemed to warp and distort, the edges of reality blurring. 
You were lost—completely and utterly lost. 
You’d thought you understood what was happening, but now, with Sol so close, his words was filled with something sinful and desperate, it was all unraveling in a way you couldn’t make sense of.
The way he looked at you, the way he gripped your wrist like it was his lifeline, it was suffocating. His gaze held something twisted, an obsession that felt too intense, too real.
Why have you been dumb until now? This wasn’t just a simple crush or playful teasing. This wasn’t just a guy who wanted to be close.
No. Sol was obsessed.
And it scared you.
You tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip was tight. The words on your lips were desperate, but they felt so small against the weight of his presence. “This isn’t right,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him.
Sol didn’t respond immediately. He only stared at you, his eyes darkening, as if weighing your every word, your every movement. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it. “I need you. I’ll always make you see. I'll be good, you can do whatever you want to me, use me, hurt me, please”
The words Sol had thrown at you hung in the air, thick and suffocating, making it hard to breathe.
"Pumpkin, please don't pick him." not like I can anyway in the game.
You felt paralyzed, trapped by the weight of his obsession and the raw, unhinged look in his eyes. 
Was this really happening? Was this the mess you’d walked into, too blind to see the signs before?
Your thoughts spiraled, emotions crashing together like a storm you couldn’t outrun. But before you could sort anything out, the air shifted. The tension in the room grew thicker, a new presence making itself known.
Geo.
He appeared in the exit stair doorway, his posture rigid, like he was ready to explode at any second. But it was his eyes that caught your attention, locking onto Sol with a cold, seething intensity that matched the storm brewing between them.
“You’re really fucking crazy, huh?” Geo’s voice was sharp, his words cutting through the charged silence. His gaze never left Sol, as if daring him to say something back.
You tried to back away, finally pulling your wrist free from Sol’s grasp, but your legs were weak, your body trembling with the adrenaline coursing through you. You couldn’t think straight. You needed space; you needed air. But there was no time to escape.
Because Sol’s gaze never wavered, and Geo’s words had already ignited something in him.
“Stay the fuck out of this,” Sol growled, his voice low and dangerous. There was a flash of rage crossing his features, and you knew in that instant that things were about to escalate. 
“You don’t get to come in here and play the knight.”
Geo didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed even more determined. “You’ve already crossed every line. Just back off, she doesn't want you, peasant,” His voice was calm, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed the storm raging underneath.
“I won’t let you fuck with them any longer.”
And just like that, it was like the dam had broken. Crash out time!!
Sol lunged first, moving quickly, too quickly for you to process. He slammed into Geo with all his weight, pushing him against the nearby wall, and you couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of their bodies colliding.
Geo’s arm shot out, blocking the punch that Sol aimed for his face, and for a moment, they were locked in a brutal, silent struggle.
“Get the fuck off me,” Geo spat, trying to shove Sol away, but Sol was relentless, throwing punches with a viciousness that you didn’t know he had in him—no, no that's a lie, you been know just didn't question it AKA minding your business.
The rooftop felt like it was closing in around you—like no matter how open it can be, the sounds of their fight echoing in your ears as you stumbled backward, not sure whether to intervene or to run.
But you couldn’t move. You were stuck.
Sol was stronger than Geo in this moment, using the element of surprise and his sheer intensity to overpower him. Geo grunted as Sol’s fist connected with his ribs, however Geo wasn’t backing down either. He fought back with the same brutal force, each strike punctuated by curses and gritted teeth.
“You think you can just take them from me?” Sol snarled, his words slurring with anger. “I told you, they’re mine. I don’t care what you think, you don’t deserve them.”
“You don’t own them, Emo!” Geo shouted, his voice breaking with frustration. “Stop acting like you have some fucking right to control them. They’re their own person. You’re the one who needs to back the hell off.”
Geo’s fists collided with Sol with a brutal force that made your stomach churn. You watched in stunned silence as Geo moved with precision and anger, his strikes landing one after another. 
Sol, once so confident, was now crumpled on the floor, his face swollen and bruising almost immediately. A deep purple and blue marred his features, his lip split and his cheek reddened from the force of the blows.
He tried to get up, and retaliate, however Geo’s rage was unstoppable. Sol was no match for him now, not when the fury in Geo’s eyes burned like a wildfire.
Geo didn’t even give him a moment to breathe. T-T
With each punch, the sound of their struggle echoed throughout the room. And when it was finally over, when Sol lay crumpled on the ground, barely able to move, Geo stood over him, chest heaving with the exertion of the fight. His fists were bloodied, but his gaze never wavered from Sol, whose body remained limp on the floor, groaning in pain.
Geo didn’t seem to care.
After a long, tense pause, Geo finally backed away, his hands shaking but his expression cold and controlled. He didn’t say a word, just took one last look at Sol—who was too beaten to even raise his head—and turned toward the door. He walked out with a calmness that betrayed the chaos that had just unfolded. 
The fight had been fast, efficient, and brutal, and now it was over.
You stood there, frozen, trying to process the madness of the situation. The intensity of everything—Geo’s rage, Sol’s obsession, the violence—made your head spin. None of this was supposed to happen. This wasn’t the outcome you imagined when you first started this twisted game. 
You just wanted to see how far it would go, how much each of them would fight for your attention, for your love—not actually fighting for real, for whatever the hell it was they were after. Oh yeah, you...
But like you had no idea it would spiral into this.
Now, you were sitting in a private room at the police station, the air thick with tension. The officers sat across from you and Geo, their eyes focused on the both of you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Your mouth felt dry, your thoughts a jumbled mess. 
You didn’t know how to explain what had happened, how it all went wrong. It was too much. 
Too fast. 
You didn’t have the words.
The room was silent except for the low hum of fluorescent lights above, the officers waiting for some kind of answer, some kind of explanation. But you couldn’t give them that. You couldn’t even explain it to yourself. Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything. 
The fact that it all started with some stupid game—a game to see which of the two would get jealous first—felt utterly ridiculous now. It was supposed to be harmless. You didn’t think it would turn into something this twisted.
But here you were, sitting next to Geo, whose face was unreadable. His expression was as cold and detached as ever, but you could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, too. His knuckles were bruised, his chest rising and fell with each deep breath. He didn’t regret what he’d done, and part of you couldn’t blame him. 
Sol had crossed too many lines. 
But it didn’t make it any easier to process.
You shifted in your seat, avoiding the officers' eyes, your mind spiraling out of control. You wanted to say something, wanted to explain it all, but the words wouldn’t come. 
Everything felt so... out of place. 
The fight between Geo and Sol had been violent and unnecessary, yet somehow, it felt inevitable. 
This was what it had come to. You had pushed it, tested the boundaries, and now the damage was done.
The officers exchanged glances, their patience wearing thin just by looking at you. They know you were holding some information back, but you didn’t have the proper answers they were looking for.
How could you? Like its very much embarrassing to say, 'Hey I was two-timing these dudes and this led to them fighting,' that isn't the full truth but that's how they would sum it up in the file report.
Like you didn't expect things to get so out of hand. You didn't expect Geo to beat Sol into the fucking ground or why Sol had become so obsessed with you in the first place.
You were so over everything at this point.
“Please,” one of the officers finally spoke, his voice gentle but firm. “Can you tell us what happened here? What led up to this?”
You hated how weak you felt, how lost. You couldn’t explain it.
You couldn’t even explain to yourself how you had allowed this to happen. The moment you’d let your curiosity get the better of you—this was the result.
You just shook your head, the overwhelming sense of regret and guilt crushing you. You didn’t have the answers. 
No—you didn't want to answer.
And even if you could, they wouldn’t make this any easier to process.
Geo’s eyes remained fixed on you, his usual cold demeanor softened by something you couldn't quite place. It wasn’t pity—at least, not the kind of pity that made you feel small—but it was something else. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t frustrated. 
He was just... there.
When the officers started to ask more questions, Geo spoke up, his voice surprisingly calm as he interjected.
"Look he put his hands on them. And I just stepped in to stop him." His tone didn’t leave room for debate, his usual sharpness replaced by something quieter, more protective. "I don't have a clue why he's so... obsessed with them, but what's done is done. You have him arrested for assault, sexual harrsment and etc. What more do you?"
The officers froze at Geo's words, he didn't say much at the start—perhaps he could tell you were sitting at a police station for like three hours now and all you wanted was to leave.
"You have all the evidence. That enough. We'll leave now."
The officers exchanged a look, but they didn’t argue. They nodded, acknowledging Geo’s request, and you could hear the soft scrape of the chair as one of them stood up. As you left the station, the weight of everything that had happened crashed down on you like a flood.
It was all too much.
You didn’t speak on the way back to your dorm. The car ride was silent except for the faint hum of the engine, and every minute felt like it stretched on forever. You didn’t know what to say to Geo, didn’t know what to say to yourself.
You were lost—dazed, even. What had you done?
Everything had spiraled so far out of control that you couldn’t even find the starting point anymore.
When the car finally pulled up to your building, you didn’t even wait for Geo to open the door. You got out quickly, the silence between you both louder than anything. You didn’t even feel like you had the energy to say goodbye. You just wanted to retreat, to disappear.
You made your way up to your single studio apartment, the familiar surroundings almost too much. The kitchen passed in a blur as you shuffled into your small, cramped living space. You threw your bag on the floor with a dull thud before collapsing face-first onto your bed. You didn’t even bother pulling the covers over you.
You just lay there, unmoving.
Geo stood in the doorway—guessing that he followed you. Wait, you checked him in at the desk, right? Anyway, watching you. The door clicked shut behind him, but he didn’t approach.
He knew better than that. There was something almost resigned in the way he stood, his hands in his pockets as he regarded you.
"I ordered food for you," he said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper, like he didn’t want to disturb the fragile silence that had settled between you. "...I'll stay. If you’re scared, like if that's what you need."
You didn’t respond. 
The weight of everything felt like it was suffocating you, and you didn’t have the words to explain it—not to him, not to anyone.
You felt stuck like the ground beneath you had turned to quicksand. The guilt gnawed at you, but the numbness in your chest was worse. You wanted to feel something—anything—but all you could muster was a hollow emptiness that made your heartache.
You heard Geo’s quiet footsteps echo in the room as he carefully took off his shoes and placed them by the door. It was such a small thing, however the gesture felt oddly intimate like he was respecting some unspoken boundary. 
He stood there for a moment, looking at you, before he made his way over to the edge of your bed. You watched him, feeling a strange mix of relief and discomfort, as he knelt in front of you, his back straight and his posture solid.
You clutched the pillow tighter, a weak shield against the confusion that was swirling inside your head. You didn’t know what you needed right now. You didn’t know if you wanted him to say something, or if you just needed the silence. You wanted so badly to scream at the chaos in your life, but the exhaustion had drained all the energy from your body.
Geo glanced down at your bed, then back at you, a slight frown pulling at his features. “I don’t want to sit on your bed,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “I’ve been outside. You shouldn’t be either, you're covered in germs,”
Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation hit you.
The idea of Geo being so considerate after everything that had happened between you two made something inside you crack. You let out a small laugh, a soft chuckle that bubbled up from nowhere as the tension in your chest finally found a way to escape. 
Geo froze, his brow furrowing in surprise as he processed the sound. “What...?” His voice trailed off, confused. He hadn’t expected it, clearly.
You shook your head, trying to stifle another laugh. “It’s just... you’re so serious sometimes,” you muttered, shaking your head again, trying to collect yourself. “Like, we’re in the middle of all this... shit, and you’re worried about sitting on my bed? It’s just funny.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, the question heavy with something more than just casual curiosity. He wasn’t asking to pry—he was asking. After all, he cared—in his own way, because he wanted to know if you were all right, even though everything around you was in pieces.
You hesitated, your chest tightening as you tried to push past the numbness, to find the words that would make sense of the chaos inside you. It wasn’t easy. You felt like you were wading through a thick fog, unable to see the shore, unable to find your way out.
You didn’t know what to say. 
You didn’t even know what you wanted anymore.
“I don’t know anymore,” you whispered with a dry laugh, your voice barely audible as the weight of everything hit you all at once. 
Geo sighed, and he stayed where he was, kneeling in front of you. He just watched you, waiting for you to find the words, letting you process everything at your own pace. The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, but somehow it was comforting. 
You exhaled sharply, leaning back against the bed, clutching the pillow in your arms like it could somehow anchor you to the present.
“I don’t know when it all got so messy," you began, your voice unsteady, the words tumbling out in a rush like you were trying to explain something to yourself as much as to him. “It all started because… I wanted to see who was more jealous, you or Sol. It was stupid, I know. I thought I could handle it, keep it all under control. I thought I could play this game and walk away without getting caught up in it.”
You paused for a second, feeling your pulse quicken as you tried to make sense of everything, but the more you spoke, the harder it became to breathe. The confession felt like it was suffocating you, but you couldn’t stop.
“You know how it is. Just a stupid game. I thought I could just sit back, watch the both of you get all worked up, and have a laugh. But it... It didn’t go the way I expected. I didn’t expect to care. Not about him—not about Sol, I mean. And sure as hell not about you.”
You laughed bitterly, shaking your head as you glanced at Geo, unsure of what exactly you were trying to say. But the confusion, the mess in your head, only seemed to spill out more the longer you spoke.
"I was trying to keep control. You know, like always. But the more I played this game—god, the more it twisted everything around. I started getting feelings. First, it was just... Sol, and I thought I could push it aside. But then... it was you."
You stopped, your voice faltering. “I didn’t think I could get feelings for you, not after everything. You’ve got your own shit going on, and so do I, but here I am. And I’m not sure who’s worse. Me, for getting this deep, or you for dealing with me through all of it.”
Geo didn’t interrupt, though you could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers curled into a fist for just a moment before he relaxed them. His eyes were on you, unwavering, and it only made the confession feel like it was digging a hole deeper inside your chest.
"You can judge me for it. I don’t blame you if you do. You always do," The words came out bitter, almost accusing, like you were daring him to reject you, to call you out for being weak.
"I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Geo. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to feel. This whole thing was supposed to be a game, a stupid little test to see who cared more, but here I am—lost. And I don’t know how to fix it."
Your throat felt tight as you swallowed down the question clawing its way up. But eventually, the words spilled out before you could stop them.  
“Do you… do you hate me?”  
For a moment, there was only silence. Thick. Heavy. Unforgiving.  
You didn’t look at him—couldn’t. You were too afraid of what you’d see in his face. Fear? Disgust? Or something worse?  
Geo didn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze flickered away, shifting toward the floor, his jaw tightening just enough for you to notice. He wasn’t one to hesitate, wasn’t one to falter, and yet, here he was—pausing.  
The silence stretched, each second pulling at your nerves like frayed threads.  
Then, finally, he exhaled, slow and measured, before looking back at you. His expression wasn’t cold, but there was something guarded about it, something that made your chest ache.  
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, voice quieter than before. “If you’re asking whether I’m pissed? Yeah. That game you played was soo shitty and wrong. But If you’re asking if I regret meeting and talking to you...”  
He sighed, looking away, "No. I don't."
Your breath caught by your lip, eyes widened as you lifted your body to look at him.
“Like hating you?” He shook his head, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I couldn’t even if I tried. And trust me, I've tried.”  
He shifted near you again, the weight of his presence steady, grounding. And despite everything—the chaos, the mistakes, the games you played—you found yourself leaning just a little closer.  
Your lips parted, the question forming before you could stop it. “Then...”  
He hummed, his gaze steady on you.  
“Do you… like me?” The words left your mouth before you could second-guess them, before you could convince yourself to let it go. You already felt exposed enough, but if you were drowning, you weren’t going to do it alone.  
Geo didn’t flinch, but you saw the way his jaw tensed ever so slightly. That careful mask of his wavered just for a fraction of a second. Then, like clockwork, his face turned slightly red—shocking…
“I like a lot of things,” he said smoothly, stretching his arms above his head, his voice full of deflection. “My time. Plants, archery...”  
You narrowed your eyes, not amused. “Geo.”  
He sighed through his nose, gaze flicking away for a brief moment before locking back onto you. “And maybe you talk too much.”  
You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. “That’s not an answer.”  
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”  
You stared at him, frustration bubbling beneath your skin. He was doing this on purpose, keeping things just vague enough to avoid saying anything real. You wanted to pry it out of him, force him to admit it, but at the same time…  
Geo wasn’t the kind of person you could force anything out of.
He’d say what he wanted when he wanted.
That was just who he was at this damn point.
You let out a sigh, something between acceptance and resignation. “Fine. Be stubborn.” You turned your body slightly, facing him fully. “But I don’t need to hear it. I already know.”  
Then, before he could react, you jumped forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him close in a tight embrace. Geo stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, you felt his arms slowly wrap around your waist, holding you steady, his warmth grounding you in ways you hadn’t expected.  
Then, before you could stop yourself, you kissed him.  
It was quick at first, just a light brush of your lips against his, testing the waters. But the second you felt him respond, his lips pressing against yours just as gently, something inside you caved.  
The kiss deepened, slow and careful, neither of you rushing, just feeling. His hands stayed light on your waist, not pulling, not taking—just holding. Like he was afraid of breaking the moment, of breaking you.  
Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. Geo’s breath hitched slightly before he tilted his head, his lips moving against yours with more certainty now, but never rough, never greedy.  
It was nothing like the game you had been playing before—nothing like what had happened with Sol. This wasn’t about control, about jealousy, about winning. 
It was just real.  
You pulled away first, your forehead resting against his, your breathing slightly uneven. Geo’s hands were still resting on your waist, his thumbs absently brushing against the fabric of your shirt.  
For a moment, you just stared at each other, the room feeling quieter than it had before.  
Then, suddenly, Geo pulled back, reaching into his pocket and checking his phone. He sighed dramatically. “Well, that was good timing.”  
You blinked, still dazed. “What?”  
He held up his phone, showing you the screen. “Food’s here.”  
You let out a surprised laugh, shaking your head. “Are you serious?”  
“Dead serious.” He stood up, stretching before glancing down at you. “Unless you wanna keep making out and let the delivery guy starve outside.”  
You rolled your eyes, a small smile pulling at your lips despite everything. “Go get the damn food, Geo.”  
He gave you one last look—something soft, unreadable—before turning toward the door. And even as he left, you could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin.  
For once, you weren’t overthinking; he's yours.
Tumblr media
772 notes · View notes
iwaasfairy · 11 months ago
Text
I need to start posting the deranged things I think about on a daily basis instead of pretending like I’m well adjusted bc I ! Feel like im losing out on so much good shit to share w you guys because I don’t wanna be too manic but I’m going back to my roots no beta readers no full fics just absolute channeled horny
tw incest, coercion, grooming ish
Satoru nii who calls you into his room to help out while he’s already snuggled under his blankets, flush working up his neck. asks you to go here and there and please just hand him that water bottle and his phone he’s just so comfy rn and you’re so sweet you will, right? you’re a good little sister right? thank you for helping him!! but wait don’t run out yet
yea he’s holding onto your wrist and his palm is all sweaty and he looks too hot under the duvet but just slow down, he’s been thinking. you bend weird at the waist when you’re picking things up you know? can you show him how you do it? doesn’t matter that you’re just wearing an oversized shirt to bed, he’s not looking at you like a guy looks at a girl silly. just do it again for him. and while you’re at it, show him your tummy and the inside of your thighs
he’s not being weird, just making an observation. you look so womanly now, don’t you? you’re no longer the little tike storming into his room at the most inopportune times. yea, he’s flushed, he’s a little sweaty- don’t worry about it. you can sit on his bed, sit right here next to him. why don’t you lean in to let him see something. oh, yeah, your lips have become fuller too, they’re soft and plush and if he squeezes between his long fingers, doesn’t that feel sort of nice. weird, but nice right?
he’s got all kind of things he can show you. you’ve really been pretty sheltered sure, but he might be able to teach you a few things. it’s just satoru nii, you trust your big brother don’t you? you two love each other and you’re close. how about you stay right there as he sits up and let him hook his chin over your shoulder, like that— and now let him check something. it’ll feel a little strange but he’s just checking. because his hands just seem to fit soooo much better on your chest, look at that. you’re sooo cute arent you, so cute with your tits in his hands as he squeezes them. you ever notice how soft your body has become? yea, you’re way softer than big brother is, look. wanna feel? feel his strong shoulders and his arms and thighs. you’re so sooo much softer than him, he doesn’t wanna stop touching you.
he just wants to see without the shirt real quick, just for a second. it’s only weird if you make it weird you know, he’s your brother. let him see real quick, please? just a second. just slip - your shirt over your head and let him look at you just like that. you’re so cute and pretty. yea you are pretty, you really are. maybe he just loves you more now you’re not such a brat, but doesn’t it feel good like this? hm? doesn’t that feel good?
and do you wanna see something funny too? yea, come here, give him your hand. it’s really funny look, you made your big brother hard as a rock. don’t be so shy, it’s just because of all the touching! you’re siblings, don’t have such a spaced look on your face — you can touch him. doesn’t it feel nice to be so close like this?
2K notes · View notes
seungkw1 · 8 months ago
Text
pretty little present — smg
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
♡ pairing: bf!mingi x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut ♡ wc: 2.5k ♡ warnings: dom!mingi, sub!reader, size kink (obviously), reader wears lingerie, mingi picks up reader and carries them, masturbation (f. & m.), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), multiple orgasms (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), dacryphilia, possessiveness, creampie, reader gets one (1) hickey, pet names (princess, doll, babygirl), great aftercare, fluff ending ♡ a/n: i don’t normally write atz but bestie @myhimbomingi requested a mingi fic and i absolutely said yes!! i had such a fun time writing him hehe
Tumblr media
The soft light of early dawn filters through your eyelids as you slowly drift into consciousness. You roll over, flopping your arm over your sleeping boyfriend to snuggle up next to him - but your hand hits nothing but the bedsheets. You sleepily pry your eyes open to see his side of the bed vacant. You grab your phone to check your texts - sure enough, you have a message from Mingi, sent at 6:14am:
good morning babe :) sorry to leave without saying goodbye but i didnt wanna wake u, u looked so cute!! i had to leave early for work today but i promise i’ll make it up to u! i left u a present on the counter, we’ll put it to good use tonight ;) love you ❤️
You were planning on going back to sleep, but now you're simply too curious. You hop out of bed and make your way to the kitchen. There, on the counter, you see a flat, gift-wrapped box - creamy white in color with baby pink ribbons tying it together. Whatever it is, it looks expensive. You untie the pastel bow and remove the lid. Underneath several layers of crisp white tissue paper, you find your present: a lingerie set. 
The set is jet black, made of silky mesh adorned with lace and satin ribbons. It’s light as a feather, buttery soft to the touch - clearly a luxury item. You've never worn anything like it in your life, but it's beautiful. 
You pull your phone out to text your boyfriend. 
got your gift, hurry home to me ;) 
The typing bubble immediately pops up. Within seconds he responds. 
i will baby 😘
The day passes at an annoyingly slow pace. You didn't have much to do today anyway, so you try to occupy yourself with chores, but you can't help daydreaming about what all Mingi will be doing to you later. 
Finally, evening rolls around - Mingi will be home soon. 
You take a quick shower to freshen up, afterwards donning your new lingerie set. With all its various straps it takes you a few minutes to even figure out how to get it on, but once you do you step in front of your full length mirror to check it out. You knew it was gonna be really pretty on, but you look fucking hot. You start thinking about how feral it's going to make Mingi - quickly ruining the delicate panties at the mere thought of him. 
You grab some leggings and a big tshirt and throw them on. Another peek in the mirror verifies that you can't tell what you're wearing underneath the comfy clothes - all the more perfect to surprise him with. 
A few minutes later, you hear the sound of the front door being unlocked and opened. 
“Babe, I’m home!” Mingi calls out. 
You flutter on over to meet him, practically skipping as you jump into his arms. He pulls you in for a big kiss, placing his large hand on the back of your head, petting your hair softly as he holds you tight against him. As his lips depart from yours, he smiles, gazing at you with pure love. 
“I missed you,” you tell him as you place your hand on his chest. 
“I missed you too,” he replies as he kisses your forehead. 
“Soooo,” he starts as he tosses his bag down and kicks his shoes off. “What do you say we try out your new present?”
“Already?” you reply coyly. “Don’t you wanna eat dinner first?”
“It can wait,” he says as he lightly grabs onto your chin. His voice turns low and rumbly. 
“I’d rather eat you.”
You giggle. “Well somebody's horny.”
“I've been thinking about you all day - thinking about how good you're gonna look in your gift.” He strokes your jaw with his thumb. “Gonna be my pretty little present.”
He grabs the hem of your tshirt, starting to pull it off of you. 
“Why don't we get you out of these clothes already and-”
He stops. He’s lifted your shirt just enough to reveal the black lacy lingerie underneath. 
“Oh.”
“One step ahead of you, baby,” you say sweetly. 
“Fuckkkkk,” he groans. He helps you lift your shirt the rest of the way off, flinging it aside as he takes in the sight of you. The mesh lining of the bra is entirely sheer, putting your nipples on full display. The coolness of the room combined with how turned on you’re getting makes them perk up, poking through the delicate fabric. 
He brushes his fingers over the protruding buds, making them even harder. He licks his lips as he gazes at you, the love in his eyes quickly turning into lust. 
You reach for the waist of your leggings, sliding them off of you to reveal the rest of the set. You kick them aside, standing up before him to show yourself off.
“Turn around for me,” Mingi commands.
You give him a twirl, wiggling your butt as your back faces him. He grabs onto you with both hands, squeezing your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hands.
You let him touch you for a few moments before you spin around, grabbing his hands as you pull him with you toward the bedroom.
“Come on, what are you waiting for?” you tease.
Before you can take another step you feel your feet depart from the ground - Mingi grabs you by the waist, lifting you off the floor as he picks you up. He practically tosses you over his shoulder as he carries you down the hallway, his arm wrapped tightly around your torso as he holds you against him. 
“Hey!!” you shout, but a big grin spreads across your face. So he’s in this kind of mood. You know he’s about to throw you around, have his way with you - even more so than normal. You feel your pussy clench in anticipation. 
You arrive at the bedroom. Mingi tosses you onto the bed - you land on your back, resting upon the pile of pillows. You keep your legs open, showing off your pussy through the sheer fabric of your underwear. 
“So wet for me already,” he says as he runs two fingers lightly across your clothed slit. He gives your cunt a gentle smack. 
“Touch yourself for me, princess. Leave your panties on.”
You obediently slide your fingers to your core. Mingi quickly pulls his shirt over his head, then reaches for his belt. You begin stroking your clit through the soft mesh as you watch him remove his clothes, freeing the large bulge that has formed in his pants. He pulls his boxers down, his length springing free. As many times as you’ve had sex with him, you’re still always taken aback by his size. His cock is thick, long, hard - precum already dribbling from his tip. He strokes himself a few times as he watches you. You slip your fingers underneath your panties, sliding them into your opening. You moan softly at the sensation - but you know this is absolutely nothing compared to how much his cock is going to fill you up. 
He watches you slowly fuck yourself for a minute, gripping his length in his fist. As you start to wriggle slightly to your own touch, he steps forward. You yelp as he grabs you by the ankles, yanking you toward the edge of the mattress. He kneels down, leaning against the bed, positioning his face in front of your cunt. His hands slide up the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up and into the bed, nearly folding you in half as he opens you up even further before him. He sticks his tongue out, dragging its tip ever so lightly over your clit through the panties - it’s enough to drive you insane.
“Mingi,” you whine, trying to push yourself into his mouth. He retracts his head, not letting you get what you want just yet.
“What’s that, baby?” he asks. The way he’s staring at you, you can tell he is dying to taste you - but he doesn’t miss the opportunity to taunt you a bit.
“Please,” you softly mumble under your breath.
“Use your words, doll. Tell me exactly what you want.”
“Want your mouth on me,” you manage to utter, still trying to push your cunt against his mouth - but his grip on you is too strong. “Want you to make me cum.”
“Like this?” he asks, teasing you once more as his tongue dances over your pussy.
“God, yes,” you cry. You feel like you’re going to lose your mind if he delays any further. 
“Or,” he continues as he reaches beneath the hem of your panties, pulling them aside. The coolness of the air hits your soaked core, countered by the hot exhales of Mingi’s breath against you. “Like this…”
He dives into you, his warm mouth greeting your cunt as his tongue traces between your folds. He sticks the tip into your hole - you’re so wet right now that it slips in with ease. You groan as he fucks you with his tongue, his nose pressing against your clit as he swirls his tongue around inside you. He pulls it out, flattening his tongue and licking a big stripe up your center before latching onto your clit. You cry out at the overpowering stimulation, writhing beneath Mingi’s strong arms as he sucks on the sensitive bud. A white-hot sensation swells in your gut, burning delightfully as you feel your orgasm approach. Your body tenses, your legs beginning to quiver as Mingi devours you. You reach for his head, grasping onto his hair as your climax takes over. You scream out Mingi’s name as you cum on his face, his tongue moving relentlessly against your clit as you ride out your high. He grips onto you until the very end, face buried in your pussy as you come down. Just when you think it’s over, he starts up again, sucking on your clit as he slips his fingers into you, curling them perfectly to reach your g-spot. Within moments, you’re cumming again, grinding against his tongue as overwhelming pleasure courses through your veins. He slows his motions, giving your clit a few last gentle licks as he slides his fingers out of you. They’re dripping wet, as is his entire chin - he places them in his mouth, licking them clean, making sure he doesn’t waste a single drop of you. 
You lay there, your chest rising up and down with heavy breaths as you try to recover. Mingi crawls up to meet your face, kissing you slowly on the mouth as he lays his weight upon you - resting on his forearms so he doesn’t completely squish you. You feel his cock throbbing against your cunt as he makes out with you - you can just tell he is unbearably hard. 
Mingi’s lips part from yours - barely, just enough so he can gaze into your eyes as he strokes your hair.
“Please fuck me,” you beg, your voice barely more than a whisper.
He nuzzles his head into your neck, sucking at your skin - lightly, but enough that you know it’ll leave a mark. 
“Anything for my princess,” he whispers into your ear. 
He stands up, pulling your hips toward him. He grabs onto the panties, ripping them off of you and throwing them aside. He lines his cock up with your entrance; he pushes just the head in, but he’s already stretching you out. Slowly he slides his full length into you - you cry out at the overwhelming fullness. He rests inside you for a few moments, letting you get used to his size. You begin shifting your hips, trying to ride his cock from beneath him. Mingi grins.
“So eager,” he coos, tracing his fingers over your stomach. “Are you ready babygirl?”
“Uh-huh,” you mewl, nodding your head swiftly.
He begins fucking you, steadily at first, but your cries quickly makes him increase his pace. Tears flow from your eyes as his thickness stretches you with each motion. He grasps tightly onto your hips, pulling you against him as he thrusts into you. He looks down at you, his pretty baby, losing all composure on his cock. He moans loudly, uninhibited - he doesn’t care if the whole world hears him. He wants everybody to know you’re his.
He reaches down, feeling your breasts through the lacy sheer bra.
“So pretty,” he groans. “So perfect, all mine.”
His hand slides down to your stomach, pushing down on your abdomen as he fucks you. The other reaches for your clit - you didn’t think you could possibly cum again, but the gentle pressure of his fingers combined with his cock nearly splitting you in half just feels too good. 
“Gonna cum,” you manage to get out, barely able to speak through your cries of pleasure. 
“Cum for me babygirl,” Mingi growls, very near his own release.
You cum on his cock, crying out his name as your walls squeeze around him - sending him over the edge. He releases, painting your insides with his hot white ropes. He grasps onto your hips, holding you down against him as his cock pulsates inside you. He breathes heavily, grunting as he gives you every last spurt of his cum. As he finishes, he holds still, his cock resting inside you. He leans over, careful not to pull out just yet - gently he grabs your jaw as he kisses you, his lips hungrily interlocked with yours. 
“Wait right here baby,” he says softly as your mouths finally part. You groan as he carefully pulls his cock out of you, immediately missing the sensation. Mingi quickly makes his way to the bathroom; he returns with a small towel, doused in warm water. Gently he cleans you up, cautious as not to overstimulate you. As he finishes he tosses the towel back into the bathroom, scooping you up and pulling you into the bed with him. He tucks the both of you underneath the blankets, taking you in his arms as he nuzzles up against you. 
“Are you cold?” he asks, kissing you on the forehead.
“Not with you here.”
“Good.”
You lay there in silence, deep breaths filling the air as you relax into each other's arms.
“Thanks for the present, baby,” you finally say, your voice soft and sleepy.
“You’re welcome, love.”
“You did completely rip it to shreds, though,” you remind him.
Mingi smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, I got a little carried away. You just looked too good.”
He cradles your cheek in his palm. “I’ll just have to get you another one,” he tells you with a kiss.
“I wouldn’t mind that,” you say as you snuggle up into him. “Just give me a few business weeks to recover from this please.”
He laughs, drawing you even closer into him. You begin to drift off to sleep, comfortable and warm in his embrace.
“Mingi?” you say softly.
“Yes, babe?”
“I love you.”
You feel his cheeks turn into a smile.
“I love you too, baby.”
Tumblr media
533 notes · View notes
justarkive · 2 months ago
Text
TABLE 3 | JJK ch14
Tumblr media
“For good service, and cute waitresses.”
pairing: pre!military jungkook x fuckbuddy/waitress! reader
warnings: SMUTTTTTTTTT profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol!jungkook , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity.
smut warnings: needy jungkook, suggestive messages, booty call at 3AM LOL. shower sex, protected sex, oral m recieving, throat fucking, crying, gagging, fingering, squirting, spanking, use of showerhead against the clit, clit play, nipple play, missionary, doggystyle, oc is practically touching her toes, reverse cowgirl umm but he does all the work?? cowgirl, strength kink, fucking while standing up, oc smacks jungkooks butt HAHA, multiple orgasms for both, super needy kook, basicaly non verbal oc lol, jungkook cant stop thinking abt leaving and he takes it out on her </3 (its hot tho) jungkook is just rlly fuckin horny and she just lets him do whatever pretty much. kinda dom jk?? DIRTY TALKKK ITS SO DIRTYYYYYYY, kinda possesive jk in a “noone will make u feel like this” way??? FLUFFY AFTERCARE!!!
wc: longggg
this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!
taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92 @alana4610
a/n: make sure to read till the end wink wink. it all comes crashiny down soon guys… so prepare LOL. i figured they deserved s rlly freaky chap before that tho. ENJOY MY LOVES
masterlist , <prev | next>
The next morning, you wake up to the soft glow of daylight filtering through the massive hotel windows.
Nari, of course, is still knocked out—sprawled on the bed like a starfish, one arm flung over her face, her hair a tangled mess from sleep. Her breathing is heavy, slow, peaceful.
And you? You groan the second reality kicks in.
You have a night shift.
You sit up, running a hand down your face as the weight of that realization sinks in. After the absolute high of last night—VIP treatment, insane performances, Jungkook—your reward? A long-ass shift at the diner, which was of course the consequence of asking for one day off.
Life is cruel.
Knowing better than to wake Nari unless it’s a life or death situation, you quietly slip out of bed and start packing your things. The magic of the concert is still lingering in the air, but with every folded piece of clothing, every zip of your bag, it fades just a little, replaced by the routine of your normal life.
The normal life that does not include penthouse suites and private concert boxes.
Once your bag is mostly packed, you hop into the shower, letting the warm water wake you up. By the time you’re dressed and ready, Nari still hasn’t moved.
Great.
You settle onto the couch and finally—finally—open your phone.
There’s no good morning text from Jungkook. Not surprising. He’s probably still asleep, hungover if last night’s spam is anything to go by.
And speaking of that—
You click into the chat.
His messages from the night before are a mess.
Jungkook [2:12 AM]: IM si tied
Jungkook [2:13 AM]: si so tired fukc tired
Jungkook [2:15 AM]: wait no im buzzing still im still high off the concert not like drug high ok
Jungkook [2:16 AM]: did u like it???????
Jungkook [2:17 AM]: bet u cried. bet u wept. bet u are weeping rn
Jungkook [2:19 AM]: i wana kiss u rn
Jungkook [2:20 AM]: NOT IN A HORNY WAY
Jungkook [2:22 AM]: mayb a little in a hornt way
You snort, scrolling further.
There are voice messages—slurred, barely understandable, probably recorded in the car ride back.
You click on one.
A deep, drawn-out sigh fills your ears, followed by a very drunk-sounding Jungkook.
“U don’t even knooowwwwwww how much I killed it. Like. No one. No one killed it like me. I’m soooo good. Did u SEEEEEE MEEEE??????? Wait ofc u did. Hi. I miss youuuuuuuu heheheheheh.”
You wheeze.
Then there are accidental photos of a table—just a table—with half-eaten food and someone’s hand in the frame. Probably one of his dancers.
A few blurry videos of him dancing on top of said table.
You shake your head, thoroughly entertained—until—
Your scrolling halts.
One message stands out.
Amidst all the nonsense, all the chaotic, drunken rambling, there’s one that’s… off.
Jungkook [3:04 AM]: im raelky fucking sorry y
Your brows furrow.
It’s buried between a spam of typos and nonsense, easy to overlook, easy to dismiss as just another drunken slip-up.
But still. Sorry?
For what?
You stare at it for a moment, lips pressing together.
Your gut tells you to ask.
But your brain tells you not to dwell on it.
So, you don’t.
You exhale, shaking off the weird feeling creeping in your chest, choosing instead to focus on the much more entertaining parts of his messages.
Like the terribly filmed videos of him singing dramatically, off-key, into a bottle of soju.
Or the way his last message—before passing out, apparently—was just:
Jungkook [3:22 AM]: meow
You lose it.
The weird feeling lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, you let yourself laugh.
And maybe, just maybe, you forget about that one message entirely.
For now.
——
Nari wakes up in the worst mood imaginable. You drag yourselves out of the hotel, obviously after munching on the breakfast buffet like absolute animals.
Which, honestly, is valid. You’d both gotten maybe five hours of sleep, and when you texted her when you got home in the morning to check in, she was radio silent.
Unresponsive. Dead to the world. Practically in a coma.
You figured she needed it—after all, that concert was a marathon. But by the time you dragged yourself through your morning routine, did some mindless scrolling, and considered texting Jungkook, you finally got a single reply from Nari at 1 PM:
Nari [1:04 PM]: bitch
That was it. No follow-up.
Meanwhile, Jungkook finally woke up at 2 PM, which was late, even for him.
Jungkook [2:15 PM]: good morningggggggg 🥱
You [2:16 PM]: it’s 2PM.
Jungkook [2:16 PM]: i am a popstar and i require beauty rest.
Jungkook [2:16 PM]: u up?
You [2:17 PM]: obviously.
Jungkook [2:18 PM]: cute.
And that’s how the texting started—all day, back and forth, about everything and nothing.
The concert. How unreal it was. How insane the screams were. How you both really had the audacity to do what you did before the concert when he was supposed to be saving his energy.
And then, somewhere between 11 PM and 3 AM, your texts shifted to complaining about your night shift.
Nari had offered to drive you both home after it because, in her words, “I am literally on the verge of death, and the faster I get us to the nearest bed, which is your place, the faster I can sleep.”
So now, here you both were, dragging your bodies inside your apartment, exhausted and delirious, talking shit about the weirdest customer of the night.
“I swear,” Nari groans, tossing her keys onto your desk, “that man has never showered in his life.”
“I think I’m still smelling him,” you mumble, flopping onto the bed.
Nari follows suit, dramatically collapsing beside you. “If I ever agree to another night shift, slap me.”
“Same for me.”
You mindlessly pull your phone out, expecting more texts from Jungkook—but he hasn’t replied for a bit. Which is… weird.
But before you can question it, your phone buzzes.
And then another. And another. And—
Jungkook [3:02 AM]: u up?
Jungkook [3:02 AM]: wait ofc ur up u just texted me
Jungkook [3:03 AM]: come over
Jungkook [3:03 AM]: now
Jungkook [3:03 AM]: please
You blink.
Okay. That’s new.
Your fingers hover over the keyboard,
You [3:04 AM]: u okay?
Jungkook [3:04 AM]: no
Jungkook [3:04 AM]: i miss you
Jungkook [3:05 AM]: come
Your stomach flips.
Oh.
You [3:05 AM]: jungkook its 3am.
Jungkook [3:05 AM]: y/n.
You sigh, staring at the screen.
Okay, you want to go. Desperately. But—
You [3:06 AM]: can’t. nari’s over.
You expect him to be pushy—maybe whine a little, try to convince you.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, his next message is immediate.
Jungkook [3:06 AM]: ohhh okay. get some sleep then.
Jungkook [3:06 AM]: i’ll see u tomorrow maybe?
You smile a little. Of course he’s understanding.
And then— A voice beside you.
“Oh my god,” Nari practically cackles, making you jump. She’s leaning over, peering at your phone, grinning like a menace.
“Bitch, GO.”
Your mouth opens. “I—”
“You think I care?” She snorts, flopping back onto the bed. “I’m gonna be asleep in the next 5 mins and probably all day tomorrow. I wouldn’t notice if the building was on fire.”
You hesitate. She notices.
She glares. “Y/N, if you don’t get your ass up”
You bite your lip, sighing. “Can you drive me?”
Nari snorts. “It is three in the morning. I am not getting behind a wheel right now.”
You huff, already pulling up the Uber app. Asking for Jungkook’s address and typing it in. “I’ll just—”
Nari snatches your phone out of your hand.
And Ubers you to Jungkook’s apartment
She pays for it before you can react.
Your jaw drops. “Nari—”
She shrugs, grinning. “Consider it my thank you for that once-in-a-lifetime concert experience. You think I’m not still riding that high?”
You groan, but at this point, you’ve lost. You snatch your phone back.
You [3:12 AM]: omw.
Jungkook’s reply is instant.
Jungkook [3:12 AM]: 😏
You roll your eyes as you head to the bathroom, trying to act like you’re not doing the absolute most to freshen up.
Hair? Fixed. Perfume? A little. Lips? Definitely hydrated with layers of gloss.
And the second you catch yourself in the mirror, adjusting your clothes like you’re not about to just end up taking them off anyway—
“Bitch.”
You jump.
Nari is watching you from the bed, arms crossed, smirking like she caught you red-handed.
“You are doing too much for a 3 AM dick appointment.”
You scowl. “Shut up.”
She snorts, rolling onto her side. “Nah, it’s okay. You deserve it.”
A beat. Then—
“My girl’s getting dicked downnn tonight.”
You throw a pillow at her. She wheezes.
Your phone buzzes. The Uber’s outside.
By the time you step out of the Uber, you are literally fighting for your life.
Your limbs are heavy, your eyelids are betraying you, and every step toward Jungkook’s apartment door feels like you’re wading through concrete.
But you know exactly what’s about to happen.
And somehow, that alone is keeping you alive.You knock once you get to his door, somehow remembering how to get there since the field date—too tired to text, too wired to just walk in like you own the place.
It takes half a second before the door swings open.
Jungkook stands there, leaning against the frame like he’s trying very, very hard to keep his composure.
Like he’s trying to act normal—cool, casual, unfazed. But his eyes betray him immediately. Because they drink you in. Like he’s starving.
And then— All that composure?
Gone once you smile and say “Hi.”
You barely register Jungkook’s grip on your wrist before the door shuts behind you, sealing you into his space, his world, his intentions.
He’s not playing around.
The second you’re inside, he’s on you. Hands on your waist, pushing you back, his breathing already heavier than it should be for someone who hasn’t even touched you properly yet.
You’re half-asleep, running on fumes, but your body?
It knows exactly where this is going.
You feel the cold edge of the bathroom sink, which you don’t even question how fast he’d pulled you in there, against your back before your brain even catches up to the fact that he’s been steering you here on purpose.
His grip is firm, deliberate, his fingers pressing through the fabric of your pullover, claiming you before he’s even said a word.
And then— “I already showered,” you manage, breathless, blinking up at him.
Jungkook just grins.
Smirks, actually.
The kind of slow, dangerous smirk that makes your stomach clench, makes your knees weaker than they already are from exhaustion.
“I haven’t.”
A pause.
Then—
His lips crash into yours.
And just like that—
You are wide awake.
Jungkook kisses you like he’s been waiting all day for this.
Like he’s been counting down the minutes, picturing this exact moment, craving it.
And you? You feel it.
Every ounce of his desperation, his need, the way his hands tighten just a little too much when they grip your hips, like he’s trying to ground himself in your warmth.
He doesn’t even let you think.
The second he feels you relax into it, he’s lifting you—easily, like you weigh nothing—and setting you onto the cold marble countertop of the sink.
Your legs automatically spread for him, letting him step in between, and— He whimpers. Actually whimpers. Like just the feel of your body opening up for him is already too much.
You feel the weight of his hands slide down from your waist to your thighs, his thumbs brushing just under the hem of your hoodie.
He leans in, kisses you deeper this time, tongue teasing yours, hot and demanding.
It’s all teeth and lips and need.
Like he wants to devour you. And you? You let him.
Because fuck it, you want it too.
The exhaustion from earlier? Completely gone when your hands tangle in his hair, still damp from whatever half-assed shower he took, and the feeling of your fingers tugging, gripping makes him let out a low, breathy curse against your lips.
He’s losing it. Then his hands disappear.
You barely have time to process the sudden loss of warmth before you hear it—
The sound of his hoodie hitting the floor. Then his shirt. You look down.
The heat that pools in your stomach at the sight of him—shirtless, toned, glistening from the way the bathroom light reflects off his skin—is actually unfair.
He’s so unfair.
And he knows it.
Because he’s watching you watch him. Head tilted, chest rising and falling, lips red and swollen from kissing you like he was trying to leave a permanent mark.
“You’re staring, baby.”
Your cheeks burn. “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
You don’t get the chance.
Because before you can even think of something to say, he takes off your clothes and he’s lifting you again—
Off the counter. Into the shower.
Your body shivers. Not from the temperature—from him.
From the way his hands slide up your sides, from the way his mouth attaches to the soft skin under your jaw, kissing, sucking, teasing.
He’s barely doing anything, and yet you feel weak. Like your entire body is being tuned to his touch. And he knows it.
Because when his lips move to your ear, his voice drops, raspy, his breath hot against your skin— “You still tired?”
The smirk in his tone is palpable. You glare at him—well, you try to. It’s hard to be intimidating when your brain is melting.
But you force yourself to lie “Yes.”
Jungkook laughs “Better wake you up then.”
Then his hands are on you again.
And just like that, he makes sure you never feel tired again.
Jungkook scoops you up effortlessly, and you’re suddenly clinging to him like a fucking koala, your arms wrapped around his neck as you laugh.
He nearly trips when he picks you up, and you can’t help but giggle at how ungraceful he looks. “Careful,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
You notice his… well, you notice. His cock isn’t fully hard, but it’s in the process of getting to it, it’s already starting to twitch, and damn, it’s hard not to stare when it swings with every movement in front of you.
You’re almost hypnotized by the way the huge thing moves.
But then, of course, the cold water sprays you right in the face, and you let out a loud squeal, completely unprepared. Jungkook immediately goes wide-eyed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry, baby.” he says quickly and chuckles, his voice cracking slightly as he tries not to laugh at your reaction.
And then, before you can recover, he pulls you back into a kiss. It’s warm, soft, and the taste of him makes you forget all about the shock of the cold water. There’s something about seeing him like this—so real, so raw, his skin glistening with water—that makes your stomach do flips. You hadn’t realized how much you liked this part of him. The part that’s just… human.
As he deepens the kiss, you let yourself melt into him, not caring about the cold anymore, just the feeling of being so close, so completely wrapped up in him.
The kiss doesn’t last as long as you’d like however, his hands already moving across your wet skin. His tattooed hand gently brushes your damp hair away from your face, and you can’t help but smile at how undone everything is, mascara probably smeared, but you don’t care.
He’s groaning in your fucking face, his hands roaming, just feeling every inch of you like he’s starved for the touch.
You can feel how much he’s craving you, the way he reacts to your body, every movement of his making you shiver.
“I missed you,” he says, voice thick with longing, and there’s a desperation in his words that makes your heart race. He pulls away just enough to look at you, and suddenly you notice- he’s jerking off by just looking at your face.
Your knees buckle.
His eyes dark, his breath heavy. You try to look away, feeling your cheeks flush, but he catches your chin, gently tilting your face up to meet his gaze.
“I swear, I’ve been losing my fucking mind,” he murmurs, his voice almost shaky as he leans in closer, forehead to yours, his breath warm against your lips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about fucking that little pussy.” He looks down. Tugs harder. “I wanted you so badly, you have no idea,” A moan, “I came so hard thinking of what we did yesterday night- Fuck-“
He’s babbling now, each word filled with so much raw emotion that you feel a heat rise in your chest, your face burning with embarrassment as you try to hide your flustered reaction. But he doesn’t stop, his hands now holding you close, other hand still tugging at his cock, filling the air with nasty, wet noises as he continues, his desperation clear.
“I couldn’t think straight without you,” he says, his voice a little frantic now. “You drive me insane, you don’t understand…”
You can’t help but blush harder, the way he’s pouring out his emotions making you feel more exposed than you’ve ever felt. His words, though, only make the connection between you feel even stronger, the intensity building between you two in ways you never expected.
He’s not just after your body; he’s after you, and that realization makes your heart skip a beat. It’s different from before, he’s clearly worked up about something. And you can’t help but think it’s not just because he misses having sex with you.
But you don’t pry. Like always.
“You had to message me at 3AM for this?” you tease, raising an eyebrow at him.
Jungkook pauses for a second, his smirk slowly spreading across his face. The way his eyes gleam with both frustration and amusement makes your heart skip a beat. “Duh,” he replies, his voice dripping with that familiar confidence. “You think I wasn’t gonna do whatever it took?”
His hand reaches up, brushing your cheek softly as he laughs lightly, the tension between you easing into something more playful.
You roll your eyes, but the warmth of his smile, the way he looks at you with such intensity, has you blushing again. The teasing may be there, but underneath it all, you both know how badly you want this connection, the way you fit together, and how much you crave more of each other.
You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “It’s been one day, Kook. One day,” you tease, trying to hide the blush that creeps up your neck.
“I don’t care.” His voice is low, sharp, cutting through your sentence like a blade. His fingers trail lower, his touch light—too light. “I’ll take you whenever I want.”
His gaze darkens a bit, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race. “Doesn’t matter how long it’s been. I want you always,” he says, his hand reaching out to brush your hair away from your face again, the water running over your body,
You can’t help but blush again, the mix of desperation and affection in his words making it hard to breathe. It’s more than just a physical need—it’s something deeper, something raw that you both can feel.
He lets go of his cock, face scrunching up in the cutest way as if he was about to cum. Hes so pathetic, but you love it. His cock flushed a pretty pink when it’s left to stand in front of his glistening abdomen, twitching slightly.
Suddenly, a soft “Fuck-“ escapes you as he gently traces your folds which have been soaked by your own juices and the water from the shower, and you realize just how much you’ve missed this closeness—the way he holds you like you’re fragile, yet there’s an unspoken promise in his touch that says he’ll never let you go, even though the last time he had touched you like this was only less than 48 hours ago. And that’s when you realize.
You’re fucking doomed.
The realization hits you like a wave, crashing over you with the weight of it all.
You never imagined sex would ever feel like this—so real, so intense-
But also really fucking good of course.
Despite having sex with Jungkook before, less times that you can count on your hand, nothing compares to this feeling. And that scares you more than you’d like to admit, because it’s not just physical. The way he makes you feel—cared for, seen—it’s like he’s holding you together in a way you didn’t know you needed. His desperation is raw and real, but there’s something more beneath it. A tenderness, an intimacy that makes you wonder if you’ve been underestimating what he’s been truly offering all along.
Jungkook never fails to put your pleasure first.
You realize now, with a startling clarity, that you’ve never experienced anything like this. And likely never will again. The way he makes you feel safe, even in the way he’s desperate for you now, shows just how much he values you. And even as his desire takes over, there’s this soft, underlying care that feels like it’s always been there, just waiting to surface.
His voice breaks through your thoughts, rough but somehow tender, “Look what you’ve done.” His words make your heart skip a beat, and the warmth between you deepens. You look down to see his hand back on his dick, not moving, just there. The fingers that skim through your folds falter slightly, “You make me so fucking hard,”
He finally pulls his hand away, and you can’t help but glance down at where he’s rubbing at your folds. Jungkook’s eyes stay locked on you, though, as his fingers gently press against your clit now. You gasp, feeling a shiver go through you at the contact. “Shit,” you moan, your gaze dropping, and he lets out a strangled noise, clearly feeling the heat too.
Suddenly, the water gets way too hot, and he shifts, his skin obviously uncomfortable.
Without even looking, he reaches over to adjust the temperature. You can’t help but snicker, watching him like he’s got some kind of mission to complete. “Can’t keep your hands off?” you tease, still chuckling, because honestly, it’s a little funny how much he’s trying to focus on you when he’s struggling just to turn the damn shower down.
Jungkook doesn’t laugh, though. When he turns his eyes away from your pussy and up to you, his eyebrows are furrowed, “I made it clear how much I want you, baby. And now you’re just gonna laugh at me?” He starts rubbing faster, and when he gives your clit a soft slap, you can’t help but squeal.
You get the feeling that Jungkook’s not gonna hold back tonight, and honestly? You’re kind of excited for it.
Kind of? Your buzzing for it.
He’s always been gentle with you during sex, and even on those late nights when you felt a little lonely—though, to be fair, you haven’t needed that kind of comfort in a while—you’ve always wondered… has Jungkook been holding something back? Is there a rougher, more carnal side to him?
His nose trails along your neck, and you can’t help but moan a little louder, totally under the spell of his fingers working their magic on you. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers, and you’re gonna scream my name,” he says, pressing a wet kiss to your neck.
“A-ah—” You stutter at one particularly hard rub to your clit, and he grins like he knows exactly what he’s doing. He kisses down your body with way more enthusiasm than you expected, stopping at your chest and sucking on your nipples, each one with a little more force than you’re prepared for.
Suddenly, one harsh suck to your nipple and then his finger starts prodding in—unfortunately not adorned with his signature chunky rings this time. But either way, the sensation has you gasping and practically shouting his name. “J-Jungkook!”
He pulls away from your nipple, slamming his lips onto yours to silence the noise escaping you. You moan against his mouth as his fingers start to move slowly at first, and then he slips in another finger, picking up speed.
Jungkook’s fingers find the spot he never fails to find quickly, wether it’s with his cock or fingers.
He’s so unfair.
And you can’t help but gasp as his touch awakens a heat that spreads through your entire body. Your eyes lock, and you meet his gaze, seeing the intensity there. His hand crawls around your neck, holding it firmly in place, and the action makes you feel both anchored and completely vulnerable at the same time.
Your heart races, the sensation of his touch overwhelming you in ways you didn’t expect.
You can feel your legs grow weak, knees buckling, your body pressed up against the shower tiles for support, and Jungkook’s hand around your neck is a steady anchor. He watches you closely, the intensity in his eyes softening for a moment as he sees the way you’re trembling, his hand holding your neck just enough to remind you of his presence, his care.
There’s an unspoken understanding in the air between you—how much you’re both craving this closeness, this connection.
As his fingers move faster on your clit, the rawness of the moment hits you, and you’re left breathless. You tilt your head back further, practically looking straight up now, feeling exposed in the best way possible, as Jungkook stays close, holding you in his gaze, his face over yours as your buckling knees minimise your height, giving you something more than just the moment. He fingers you harder, rougher.
You force yourself to hold his gaze, even as your breath quickens, letting out vulnerable whimpers and strangled moans, feeling the heat between you two intensify. Jungkook breathes in deeply, his exhale brushing your face, and you notice the way his jaw clenches, the tension in his body mirroring the way you’re feeling.
“Always so fuckin’ tight,” he murmurs, voice low and rough.
His hand leaves your neck, fingers threading into your hair, and you can’t help but gasp. “J-Jungkook, please,” you moan, trying to gather enough focus to look up at him, pleading silently for a bit of mercy. You’re on the edge, and if you cum now, you don’t know how much more you can take.
He smirks down at you, his eyes full of that quiet intensity. “Please what?” he teases, tilting your head back by your hair just a little more, his grip firm.
“S-slow…” you whisper, your voice shaking from both desire and the overwhelming feeling of his fingers. And he has the audacity to chuckle and go even faster. “Can’t handle it?”
You shake your head, and his smirk only deepens, a quiet confidence in his gaze. Your heart skips when you realize that he won’t let up—he’s not backing down.
“You’re gonna take it because you’re such a good girl, right? The best girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of that same intensity. You clench around him, and he groans, caught by the tightness. He struggles for a moment, but it only makes him more determined.
His hand gently grips your chin, squeezing your cheeks together, guiding your puckered lips towards his for a soft, fleeting kiss on your lips, the touch tender despite the heat between you both.
He releases his hold on your face, his hand shifting to himself, and you can see the struggle in his expression as he moves even faster than before. The speed increases, and it catches you off guard, a wave of heat building inside you. You try to catch your breath, reaching out to grip his wrist, but he pushes your hand away, “Nggghh- Fuck!”
Then, suddenly, his touch falters for a moment, and you feel the shift as he pulls back.
What the fuck.
“I was so close!” You pout, frustration seeping into your voice.
“Enough,” he seethes, his tone sharper than you expected. His hands move to your waist, guiding you down to your knees, positioning you in front of him.
You’re on your knees, feeling a little unsteady from the moment, but there’s something about the way Jungkook stands over you, the way he watches you with such intensity that makes your heart race. You look up at him, his eyes soft but filled with an unspoken need, the muscles of his body taut and rippling in the dim light.
His strong thighs are close, the water running down his skin of his abs when you look up, the vibrancy of his coloured tattoos seem to increase under the water that cascades down his arms, creating a slight sheen that makes both of your lips drool-
Half of his face is slightly covered by the length of his hard cock above you, the sight of it is almost too much to process. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to steady yourself, but it’s hard.
He shifts slightly, length swinging, and you can feel the tension heightened in the air, the electricity between you both, as if every little movement is creating an undeniable pull. You gaze at him, the water dripping from his hair, and there’s a fire in your chest, the connection between you two so palpable it feels almost like a promise.
“You good?” His voice is softer than you expected, compared to the harshness earlier, and it makes you shiver, the warmth of his care wrapping around you.
You nod, unable to talk, feeling a mix of emotions you can barely sort through, but it’s all-consuming in a way you never expected.
He cradles your face, his gaze searching yours for some kind of reassurance, a silent question hanging between you. His hands are steady, as they grip around the base of his cock, letting out soft breaths.
He strokes his thumb over your bottom lip, watching it bounce back and smiling, his eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to gauge how you feel.
You meet his gaze, and there’s a mix of emotions between you—vulnerability, desire, and something deeper. The air feels charged, and without saying a word, you give him a slight nod.
He moves his tip closer to your mouth, and he grins when you try and chase it. “You want it?”
He taps it against your lips and you whine, opening your mouth, ready to take this thing in, but he moves it away, swinging it against your cheek. He groans at the impact.
You look up at him to find him grinning, holding back a laugh. “Jungkook,”
He gives in, only because it’s you. Finally pushing his tip inside your mouth.
The salty, familiar taste greets you.
Through all the times you and Jungkook had fucked, he’d made it pretty clear how much he loves receiving (as much as he does giving of course) never failing to slip it into your…sessions.
And you? You definitely aren’t complaining.
He lets you go at your own pace, and he just watches you from above as your tongue licks around his tip, watches you as you slip half of his length in your mouth, letting out the occasional grunt.
It hits him then. When you look up at him with a mouth full of cock. The impending doom of his military service that keeps popping up in his mind at the worst times possible like an annoying notification that he cant seem to swipe away.
And to will it away. He thrusts his entire length in your throat.
“Fuck…” His breath stutters, but even in his distraction, he notices your struggle. Your eyes widen as you cough, and he instinctively reaches for your temples, guiding you, trying to ground you both.
“Wanna fuck it,” He whispers, other hand tracing your jaw.
You don’t have time to protest; it’s like he’s made up his mind already. His grip on your head tightens, but you notice the strain in his expression, his face caught somewhere between pleasure and something heavier, like he’s fighting off his own thoughts.
“Mouth always feels so fuckin’ good, baby.” His breath is ragged, the quiet tension in the room thick as you look up at him, noticing the sweat on his thick neck, though it’s mostly just water. You look over slightly to the shower that’s still running.
Those damn water bills must be high.
The way his Adam’s apple moves with each breath. And worst of all, his chain that swings ever so slightly with every thrust of his hips.
What a man. You think.
Jungkook’s movements become more urgent, and you feel a deep sense of vulnerability as he looks down at you, his tip is constantly hitting the back of your throat and the tears from the gagging that you’ve been trying your hardest to push away flow freely now.
His gaze is intense, but also distant in a way. Noticing the mascara that’s running down your face, he gently reaches up to wipe it away, a tender gesture that makes your chest tighten.
His eyes linger on your face, and he thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. How could he be hurting you?
And he’s mad about it.
So fucking mad, that it leads him to thrust in fully. Your nose pressed against his soft, trimmed pubes, cock tucked into your throat.
“Take it.” His grip around your hair tightens when you try to move back, your head pressing against the tiles, his pace snapping into something unforgiving. “You can handle it.”
Your tongue is flat against the underside of his dick, it fucks into you like butter. And you let him push in deeper, harder, making gargling noises around the length of it.
“Tap my leg if- Ffuck- if it gets too much, okay?” The tenderness is back, but you can only manage a barely-there nod when-
He jackhammers your fucking throat.
He really gets in there. Stopping his thrusts and just using his hand that hasn’t stopped gripping your hair like a damn vice to control your head, in, out, in, out.
The tears spill out of your eyes. The occasional grunt and “Fuck.” From Jungkook above spur you on more, until-
“Shit…” He spills into your mouth, curses and moans spilling out of his own. You keep going, sucking his cum out. It doesn’t taste like much, only the slightest hint of salt. But his cum is mostly warm, warmer than the water still cascading down his body and dripping onto yours, it runs down your throat, and you swallow as best as you can with his whole dick inside. He thrusts further, as if there was anymore space to do so, your nose pressed and twisting with the pressure he puts on your head to his pubic bone.
You barely have a moment to recover before he pulls you up, knees numb and slightly red from being on the floor for so long. You grin at him, ready to tease him with a cocky remark about making him cum in less than five minutes.
But jungkook has different ideas, turning you around with one hand around his cock, cutting off the circulation from his cock to keep it hard, “Hands here,” he orders, facing you towards the glass, voice thick, husky.
You turn your head, desperate for a kiss, and he looks like he’s about to reject you to tease, but he always gives in when it comes to you. And quickly kisses your puckered lips, letting out a soft laugh.
But that softness is gone when you feel his tip teasing your folds, His lips curl into a grin against yours before, suddenly, he pulls away.
You blink, dazed, as he steps out of the shower, water dripping from his skin, his movements unhurried, deliberate. And then you notice something that makes you smile.
Jungkook has the cutest, plumpest little butt. It’s an observation that catches you off guard, but you can’t help the soft giggle that escapes as you watch him walk over to the sink counter, dripping water everywhere, completely shameless in his search for a condom.
He turns back, brows raised. “What?”
Still grinning, you let your hands rest lightly on his ass cheek before giving a playful light smack, voice warm with amusement. “Damn, sir.”
He laughs at that, until-
"Turn around," he commands.
This man is such a contradiction.
You do, pressing your hands against the cool shower tiles as he moves behind you, his warmth a stark contrast to the misty air. His fingers skim down your sides, tracing slow, deliberate paths before settling at your ass and giving it a smack- just like you did.
His voice is low, rough with want. “Stay just like that.”
When he finally pushes into you after putting on the condom and sliding the shower door closed, a quiet gasp leaves your lips, your body instinctively molding to his. His grip tightens against the wet tile, steadying you, grounding you. For a moment, neither of you move—just breathing, just feeling.
“Okay?” he breathes, clearly trying his hardest to let you adjust, his voice softer now, a thread of something unspoken laced in the question.
You nod, exhaling a quiet “Yeah.”
When he doesn’t move, you let out a frustrated sigh, pushing your hips back in silent plea—only for him to pull away at the last second. A quiet laugh leaves him, low and teasing, as his hands roam over your curves, coaxing you to bend just a little further.
At this point you’re touching your damn toes.
“Beg for it,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns along your spine.
Your breath stutters, your body already trembling with need. When you glance back at him, strands of wet hair clinging to your flushed face, your voice comes out barely above a whisper.
“Please, Jungkook… I- need you.”
He seems satisfied, so much so that, without warning, he grabs your hips and pulls you back onto him in one smooth, fluid motion. A sharp gasp leaves your lips, your body instinctively molding to his as he fills you completely.
A low “Fuck,” grumbles from him as he leans down, his teeth grazing your neck before soothing the bite with his lips. His hands wander, tracing every curve of your back, fingers brushing over your skin with need before rolling over your breasts. A sharp gasp escapes you when he pinches at your sensitive nipples, sending a shiver down your spine.
The pace quickens, his hips meeting yours in a rhythm that has your breath hitching, your body melting into his. But the strain of holding yourself up in the position starts to creep in, the ache settling into your limbs. Jungkook notices instantly. Without a word, he slows, pulling out just long enough to spin you around, his touch firm yet careful.
Before you can catch your breath, he lifts you effortlessly, strong arms locking beneath your knees as he presses you against the cool tile of the shower wall. Your breath catches, legs tightening around his waist on instinct. His lips find yours—deep, slow, lingering—before trailing down the column of your neck.
And then he’s inside you again, the stretch just as intoxicating as before, but this time, there’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Just him, holding you close, moving in sync like he never wants to let go.
Your tits bounce with each powerful stroke, the water streaming down your bodies.
"Look at me," he demands, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are wild with lust as he pounds into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. He reaches down, spitting before rubbing your clit in rough circles.
You throw your head back against the tiles, lost in the sensation of his cock and fingers. Your legs tremble as he hits your G-spot, bringing you closer to the edge.
"Cum on it, baby," he growls, his hips snapping forward. You scream as your orgasm crashes over you, your walls clamping down on his length. He continues to thrust through it, chasing his own release.
He pulls out, but he doesn’t let go of you. Instead, he eases you down onto the cool floor, his touch steady despite the urgency in his movements. The contrast of warmth and chill against your bare skin sends a shiver through you, but then he’s kneeling between your legs, spreading you open with deliberate care.
His fingers find you again, slipping inside with ease, his thumb pressing against your swollen clit. You jolt at the overstimulation, your body still trembling from the last high. But Jungkook isn’t done with you. His lips find your shoulder, his teeth scraping along the damp skin as his pace quickens.
“Give me another,” he murmurs, the word more like a command, you barely have time to brace yourself before the pleasure hits, this time sharper, more intense. It crashes over you in waves, your back arching, a strangled cry escaping your lips as the release takes hold-
You fucking squirt.
This man just made you squirt.
Jungkook stills for a split second—stunned, mesmerized—before a low, guttural groan leaves him. His hands grip your thighs, his breath coming out harsh as he watches the aftermath of what he’s just done to you. He doesn’t stop, coaxing more liquid from you, his touch relentless until you’re squirming beneath him, gasping his name in a desperate plea.
And then he just can’t help it, lining himself up quickly, his cock pressing into you, his mouth capturing yours in a deep, breathless kiss as he pushes inside, chasing that same desperation that has him completely undone.
Jungkook buries himself inside you in one forceful motion, his pace relentless from the start. Your hand instinctively presses against his lower abdomen, a silent plea for mercy—but he doesn’t grant it.
Instead, he grabs your wrist, pinning both of your hands above your head, his grip firm as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. His body crowds over you, leaving no space between you, forcing your gaze to meet his.
“Eyes on me,” he demands, his voice rough, edged with something desperate.
His thrusts slow, deepening, dragging every sensation out until you’re trembling beneath him. “Who makes you feel like this?”
Your lips part, but nothing comes out.
“Speak,” he grunts, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable when you shy away, cheeks burning.
When you don’t answer, he exhales sharply, jaw clenching before he snaps his hips forward, faster, rougher, forcing the answer out of you. “You won’t talk?” His voice dips lower, a growl in your ear. “Then I will.”
Each word is punctuated with another thrust, his hands tightening around yours.
“No one—” he groans, eyes locked onto yours, the weight of his words pressing into you as deeply as he does. “No one will ever make you feel like this.”
“No one will ever get you this fucking wet.”
His voice is low, strained, as if the thought alone drives him insane.
“Jungkook—please—” Your voice breaks into a cry when he angles his hips just right, hitting that spot that sends shockwaves through you.
He groans, dropping his forehead to yours. “No one will ever—fuck—hit that spot. My spot.”
Letting go of your wrists, his hand slides down, wrapping around your throat—not tight, just enough for you to feel the weight of his presence, the control he refuses to let slip. You gasp, a moan spilling out before you can stop it.
“Now tell me.”
Your lips part, but nothing comes out.
“Tell me.” His thrusts stop completely, leaving you desperate, aching, hovering on the edge.
“I—” You swallow, the heat in his gaze making it impossible to look away. “It’s you, Jungkook—fuck—you always make me feel like this. Always make me feel so fucking good.”
His smirk is slow, dark, satisfied.
“Good,” And then he’s moving again, faster, deeper, making sure you never forget it.
After three particularly deep thrusts that leave you gasping, he suddenly pulls out, his grip firm as he shifts you away from the shower wall. Then, without a word, he leans back against the glass, legs spread, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
“Ride it,” he rasps, voice thick with need. “Like you fucking mean it.”
Your knees feel weak, but you straddle him anyway, pulse hammering as you take in the way he looks—hair soaked, jaw clenched, abs glistening under the water, waiting for you with confidence. He tilts his head, watching you with a dark, expectant smirk.
“And don’t disappoint me.”
You sink down slowly, but his impatience gets the best of him. He pulls your hips down firmly, and you gasp, your face instinctively burying into his neck as you try to steady yourself. The weight of his breath on your skin heightens the moment.
“Like that…” he breathes, voice strained.
You respond, moving more urgently, caught up in the heat between you, eager to give him everything he’s asking for, every part of you desperate to feel him deeper.
You whine softly, lifting your head to watch him, his face scrunched cutely in concentration. As soon as your eyes meet, the tension between you heightens, raw and desperate. When your movements hit that familiar spot, you gasp, your head falling back, overwhelmed. His hands find your waist, guiding you, encouraging your every movement.
The sounds of the shower, mixed with soft grunts and the rush of water, fill the space. Then, in a swift motion, Jungkook reaches over to the showerhead. You don’t see it, but you feel the change — the cold metal against your skin as he adjusts it and presses the thrashing water against your poor little clit.
“Fuck!” You cry out, your movements momentarily stopping, as the sensation overwhelms you.
“Move,” he commands in a low growl, urging you to continue as his grip tightens, his desperation clear, pushing you both to the edge.
You force yourself to move, following his encouragement, but you can feel his restraint — his teeth gritted, holding back, as the rush of water continues to hit you. You adjust your pace, slow and deliberate, as the heat builds between you both.
His lips trail over your skin, sucking your nipples and practically anything he can get his lips on, and it becomes overwhelming. The sensation is too much, and before you can stop it, the wave of pleasure takes over. You stop your thrusts and sink down fully on his cock, “Nggghgh- Fuck Fuck Fuck!” feeling how his whole length fills you up, and he groans as your body responds, tightening around him.
In that moment, the showerhead slips from his grasp, falling to the floor as the world around you fades into the rush of emotions and the overwhelming connection between you both.
He presses his lips to your forehead as you gasp, your body trembling beneath his touch. You let out a soft whine from overstimulation from the sheer amount of times Jungkook has made you cum tonight, and he reacts quickly, gently pulling away before turning you around.
His chest presses against your back, and you feel the weight of him behind you, “I’ll be quick,” he reassures with a kiss to your temple.
With his feet planted firmly against the floor, he thrusts upward, cock pounding in, balls slapping against your…other hole. His movements relentless. You can hear the sounds of his moans, fast and heavy, as he pushes himself closer to the edge.
You let out a gasp, and despite the overwhelming rush, he’s focused, consumed by his own need. He holds you firmly, both arms around your waist, his breath hot against your ear. “Take it,” he murmurs, the words filled with urgency.
"Fuck," Jungkook grunts in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.
"Taking it so well." He starts thrusting harder, his hips slamming against your ass with each forceful drive inside you. "Your pussy belongs to me now. I'm going to use it however I want, whenever I want."
The dirty talk combined with the intense stimulation has you spiraling closer to the edge, your moans growing louder and more desperate. But Jungkook isn't ready to let you come again yet. He wants to watch you fall apart first.
Suddenly, he pulls out with urgency, your slick walls clenching around nothing. Your ass hits the cold, wet floor with a loud thud as he withdraws, the sensation jolting you out of your haze of pleasure. But before you can even register being pissed at him for stopping, he reaches down and rips the condom off his throbbing cock.
Jungkook starts fisting himself rapidly, his tatted arm flexing as he chases his release. With a low groan, he tilts his hips up and aims his cock at your face. Hot ropes of cum shoot out, coating your features - your lips, cheeks, nose, even your eyes. You can't help but gasp at the intensity of it, overwhelmed by the sight and smell of him marking you like this.
But Jungkook isn't done yet. Still sensitive from coming so hard, he pushes the tip of his cock against your soft, plush lips. "Open," he commands gruffly. As you part your lips, he smears his sticky cum all over them before pushing inside your mouth to deposit the rest on your tongue. "Clean me up,”
You dutifully suck him clean, hollowing your cheeks to draw out every last drop. Once he's satisfied, Jungkook lets out a shuddering sigh and gently caresses your face. "Beautiful," he murmurs admiringly.
Spent from his powerful orgasm, Jungkook helps you up from your knees, rests against you as you both catch your breath. You nuzzle your face against his softening cock, your only response a contented mewl.
When it’s over, the only sound in the room is the dripping of water and the jagged rhythm of your breaths.
Jungkook presses his forehead against yours, a lazy, satisfied grin tugging at his lips.
“Still tired?”
You would shove him if you could move.
——
After showering, you both move through his night routine effortlessly, like this is something you’ve done a hundred times before.
And maybe you have. Maybe not in this exact way, but the way he lets you exist in his space—undisturbed, welcomed, wanted—it’s enough to make your chest ache.
You open his bathroom drawer, reaching for his toothpaste, when—
You pause.
Your toothbrush is still there.
Tucked neatly in the corner, exactly where you left it the last time.
A quiet, warm feeling spreads through your chest.
You bite your lip, smiling down at it like an idiot.
Jungkook, already slathering on his absurdly expensive moisturizer, catches your expression in the mirror.
“What?” he asks, brow raised.
You look at him, giddy for no reason. “You kept my toothbrush?”
He blinks. Looks at the drawer. Then at you.
“Yeah?” His voice is flat, like he doesn’t get why this is a big deal. “I wasn’t gonna throw it away.”
You just stare at him.
And then—God, you wanna kiss him.
Jungkook notices. Because, of course, he does.
His lips curl into a smirk, but instead of teasing, he just grabs his serum.
“C’mere, baby.”
You blink. “What?”
He gestures you over, unscrewing the cap. “I know you wanna steal my skincare, might as well let me do it for you.”
Your heart squeezes.
The last time you were here, you made a throwaway comment about how one day, you were gonna steal all his expensive skincare.
And he remembered.
You let him tilt your chin up, his hands gentle as he works the product into your skin. His fingers move slow, precise, careful. He explains what each product does, but you stop listening.
Because you’re tired.
And you’re warm.
And you feel so fucking safe right now.
Jungkook notices.
Halfway through his sentence, he catches the way your blinks get slower, the way you sway slightly.
So he just—stops talking.
And takes care of you instead.
Quietly, effortlessly.
He dresses you in the hoodie you came in, slipping you into it with soft, careful hands. Leaves you just in your panties, because he guessed you like to sleep that way.
Then, he strips down to his briefs, scoops you up into his arms like you weigh nothing, and carries you to bed.
You instinctively nuzzle into his chest, body molding to him without thinking.
Jungkook laughs under his breath, setting you down, tucking the blanket over you.
Within seconds, you’re out.
And he—
He just lays there. Watching you. Thinking.
His heart is so fucking full, but so goddamn heavy.
You don’t know.
You don’t know he’s leaving in three weeks. That every time he touches you, every time he kisses you, teases you, makes you laugh, holds you like this—he’s counting down the days.
And he’s had enough of it.
Enough of lying, hiding, hurting you without you even knowing.
So he promises himself, right then and there—
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, he’ll tell you.
For now, he just pulls you closer, presses his lips to your hair, and lets himself fall asleep next to you.
Like he’ll get to do it forever.
164 notes · View notes
dovveri · 11 months ago
Note
not officially putting this as a request but do what you want with this 😂😂 i just think sana’s the type to be whiney asf when u tell her she can’t kiss u cause u’re wearing a cap and that she’d hit her head when she leans in sOooo as payback, she’d tell you that you can’t kiss her when she’s wearing specs because you’ll just bump your nose on the frame 😂😂😂😂
effervescent
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: sana’s mad bcs you won’t let her kiss you when ur wearing a cap in public :(
warnings: puuuuure fluff + suggestive towards the end
w/c: 1.1k
a/n: its funny i actually had this exact thought the day before the anon sent this in but i couldnt say it bcs it wasnt long enough for a fic but then this came in and i went what da hell i can do a short lil piece ^,^
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
sana was an affectionate person. and an even more affectionate girlfriend. she absolutely loved clinging on to you, hugging you, kissing you, even in public she had no qualms with cuddling, being sickeningly in love, she loved it even more when you’d get embarrassed and shy, cooing at how cute you were, pinching your cheeks teasingly.
no matter where you where, if you were in her near vicinity, she’d find some way to get a hand on you, or slide into your lap, until you were sharing skin-to-skin contact she would refuse to leave you alone.
that also meant she would get pouty and adorably sad whenever you rejected her advances.
like now.
“baaaby gimme a kiss.”
“can’t baby i’m wearing a cap.”
“soooo? come hereee-“ she’s pulling you into her, craning her neck so she can kiss you but she knocks her head against the front of your cap, whining and pulling away immediately, cradling her forehead.
you giggle, “i told you baby.”
“just take off your cap then.” she’s pouting and looking up at you with a frown. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like teasing her to get her looking this adorable for you.
“no can do. we’re in public sweetie the paps will get us.”
“i don’t care about them!”
“well i do.” you boop her nose lovingly, internally squealing at the way her nose scrunches in response, “you will not be making headlines for making out with one of your fans in public.”
“you’re not my fan anymore! you’re my girlfriend now!”
“not to the public i’m not.”
“then we can come out as a couple.” she’s determined with her statement, a cute crease coming to rest between her eyebrows as she starts thinking around how to do exactly that.
“noo baby your company would never allow that. besides i’m fine being yours in private. and i wouldn’t want to jeopardise your career anyway. and before you can say i won’t- i will, i love you but your fans are kinda insane.”
sana pouts, “fine.” she stomps away not saying anything else but you know it’s fine because she’s still holding your hand and pulling you along even when she may be a little annoyed you won’t let her kiss you in public.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
"sana! i'm home!"
"okaeri!"
you slip off your shoes, padding into the living room where you heard your girlfriend's voice coming from, smiling at her in her reading glasses pouring over a set of papers spread on your coffee table.
"hi baby, what are you doing?"
"reading over these contracts the company sent. how was your day?"
"good. better now i'm home with you." you lean down to kiss her in greeting, but at the last second she turns her head so your lips land on her cheek.
you pout, bringing a hand up to her face to turn her back to you but she refuses, adamant on not looking at you.
"baby what's wrong?"
"nothing."
"something's wrong. did i do something? i swear i put my clothes in the laundry this morning."
"nothing's wrong."
you frown, crouching down fully to squat next to her. “if nothing’s wrong why won’t you kiss me?”
“i’m wearing specs.”
you’re silent for a second, “…okay…?”
“yeah.”
“um… are they new? i’m sorry if i didn’t notice. you look gorgeous whatever you’re wearing so i’m always stunned by you!” you try and joke with her but receive no reaction, coughing awkwardly and trying to cover up, “but they look nice!”
“thank you. they’re not new.”
“oh… right so…”
“i’m wearing specs. that’s why i won’t kiss you.”
“oh! wait why won’t you kiss me?”
she sighs, finally looking at you, “i told you. i’m wearing specs.”
“okay and? i’ve kissed you before while you’ve been wearing glasses.” you start to smile again, thinking she’s just teasing you, leaning in again but you’re shocked when she turns away with a huff, pushing her frames up her nose and picking up another page of paper.
“okay what the hell.” you snatch the papers out of her hand.
“hey!”
you ignore her protests. sliding into her lap and wrapping your hands around her neck, all while she still refuses to look at you or even touch you, her hands falling limp to her side after you take her papers away from her, then using them to lean back and away from you with a pout.
you can't have any of that so you pull on her neck gently, urging her forward.
"you're interrupting my work." she's got that slightly annoyed tone in her voice, but you know better.
"you're interrupting my kisses."
"i told you i'm wearing glasses so i can't kiss you right now. you'll bump your nose on the frame."
you frown, "no i won't."
"yes you will."
before she can react you lean in and steal a quick peck, breaking away with a giggle when she finally looks at you, only to gape at you in shock.
"y/n!"
"see? didn't bump my nose or anything."
"you weren't meant to kiss me!"
"why not?"
"because i didn't get to kiss you when you were wearing a cap so you don't get to kiss me when i'm wearing specs."
"wha- is that what this is about?"
"yes!"
you laugh, throwing your head back, still clinging on to her, "awwwh oh my god you really are a baby." you grin cheekily before dipping in again, stealing another kiss, then another, holding her face between your hands and pecking her all over her face, on her specs too while she whines and tries to push you off. "my baby." you finish with another kiss on her lips, giggling when you break away and have her chasing after you now to prolong your kiss.
"'m not a baby."
"yes you are."
"no i'm not."
"yes you are."
"no! i'm not!"
you laugh, letting her have it, patting her cheek affectionately that's now puffed out in a pout, "i'm sorry for not letting you kiss me while i was wearing a cap okay? you have full permission to do whatever you want to me next time i'm wearing one."
she raises an eyebrow, a smirk slowly appearing on her lips, "anything?"
you immediately become wary, shirking away from her but her hands come up to grip at your hips keeping you in her lap, "anything within reason of course."
"so if i can make riding your face in public sound reasonable... anything goes."
you snort, face immediately going bright red, “i don’t know how you could ever convince me to do that sana.”
“you’ll be surprised at how persuasive i can be then.” she’s grinning now, looking adorably innocent in her wide frame glasses and oversized sleep shirt but suggesting completely devilish things.
you groan, pushing away from her and out of her lap, but not before she laughs, pulling you in again and kissing you, no longer caring that she’s still wearing her glasses that now have your lipstick mark printed on them.
540 notes · View notes
jyoongim · 1 year ago
Note
okay soooo i’ve never really done this before BUT ngl im absolute whore for when people make flustered alastor fics idk why,maybe it’s bc of how i am personally-
but something about the way he’s always so cocky and arrogant but then suddenly reader makes a flirty comment and next thing you know he looses his composure(mans is absolutely FOLDED like a lawn chair tbh) in a way,even if he tries to hide ittttt UGH those are so good. It can be a smut one or just a short cute little fic but either way i’m curious to how you’d write this! :))
i swear i have another request from you in the depths of my inbox hehe but this I couldn’t pass up! HE WOULD FOLD SO BAD
—————————————————————————————
Alastor was always so put together. 
In control of every little piece of himself.
He was an intimidating Overlord that all of Hell feared.
He was cocky and arrogant and nothing could shake him.
But he does have a mortal soul and he can't get rid of natural reactions no matter how much practice he’s had.
”You're such a tall glass of water Al” you cooed at the red demon beside you  as you nursed a drink at the bar.
Alastor blinked in surprised. He felt his ears flicker and that annoying sensation of his tail trying to wag.
Heat rushed to his face ”you do realize that means good-looking my dear?” He asked, head tilting, as he quickly poured himself another shot of whiskey.
You beamed at him “Of course!” You leaned closer to him, making him lean back a little, nervously. Your eyes narrowed as you watch his red eyes avoid yours.
”Are you blushing? The mighty Radio Demon is blushing from a compliment. Ooh Alastor! I knew you were tall, dark and handsome, but cute as well? I hit the jackpot” you giggled when you watched him choke on his drink. 
He cleared his throat and glared at you, but the pinned ears and red cheeks gave him away.
You giggled, standing up looking at the flushed Overlord.
“Dont worry Alastor, I wont tell anyone the big bad Radio Demon can’t handle being flirted with” 
He went to say something, but tensed when you pressed your lips against his cheek. Static crackled and popped, a record scratch track played when you purred in his ear.
”I look forward to hearing you later tonight hot stuff” your voice floated from the hallway.
Alastor’s eye twitched and a choked laugh made his eyes narrow.
Husker was trying his best not to laugh at the demon
”What’s so funny?” He hissed. 
The old cat shrugged, cleaning your glass “oh nothing never thought I see the day someone gets under your skin”
Alastor bristled “You tell no one of this” his eyes flashed to dials.
He disappeared into shadows making the cat smirk
”angel’s gonna love this”
541 notes · View notes
writer-ivy · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
dilf!charlie x reader
this is smut. mdni.
wc: 1.9k words
a/n: its finally here!!!! im so so soooo sorry i had to keep you guys waiting for so long, i hope you know i absolutely adore and love all of my mutuals. lmk if you like the fic and also my new blog! i genuinely love every single person who encouraged me to write, this one's for you guys <3
to @mikasaackerman728 , @hiswhitehair , @stairstothe7th a tag because you asked <3
Tumblr media
the first time you saw ‘the hot dad next door’, you didn't know he was a dad at all. he looked young, maybe a few years older than you, not that you would have minded if he was any older. he was carrying different boxes into the house right opposite to yours, a friend by his side.
he had messy hair and blue glasses, a plain, cream colored sweater rested across his shoulder, and he looked, for lack of a better word, extremely fucking broad.
you were instantly drawn in, he was exactly your type. you knew you had to find out more about him. So, you decided to be a nice neighbour and bake him a box of cookies. you searched for a good recipe to follow, spending the afternoon scooping sugar and kneading dough.
as the cookies cooled on your counter, you decided to dress up. well, it was more changing out of your messy pajamas and putting on a bit of perfume, but you called that enough. 
you knocked on his door early in the evening, smoothing down your shirt with one hand as you clutched the tupperware box in the other. you were expecting him to open the door, so when a little girl with light brown pigtails and blue eyes opened the door, it was safe to say you were shocked.
“hello, is that the pizza?” , the little girl asked, glancing up at the box in your hand. “oh sweetheart, i’m sorry, no- uhm, is your dad ho-”, you were interrupted by a figure stepping into the hallway by the door. “who is it- oh hi!”, his cheery voice called out as you glanced up, looking at his looming figure.
he was wearing a different shirt now, more casual, comfortable. he gave you a questioning tilt of his head as he scooped up his daughter- or the sweet little girl you assumed was his daughter- into his arms. “right! sorry, i’m your neighbour. i noticed you moving in this morning and i thought i’d introduce myself with a few cookies!” , you held out the bowl to him, plastering a sweet smile across your face.
“oh, thank you! that’s nice of you. my name’s charlie, and you?”  “oh, i’m Y/N-”
“dad, can i have some now?” ,the little girl reached out for the bowl of cookies in her dad’s hands. “think you can put a few on a plate yourself, sweetheart? i’ll finish talking to our new neighbour here.” the girl nodded, and charlie placed her gently on the ground, handing her the box of cookies, watching fondly as she padded down the main hallway and further into the house. 
“your daughter’s cute” , you commented and he chuckled. “yeah, she’s the sweetest. it’s been just us for a while now, so i cherish her to death”. oh?  “what about her mother?” , fuck. “s-sorry, honestly, i didn’t mean to prod at your personal life, i-”
“it's totally fine! its a common question, really!” “still, i let it slip and if you dont wanna answer-”
“its all good! we.. separated, uhm- a few years ago when she was still a baby. i’ve had her with me since, but she visits her mom on the weekends.”  “that’s nice, she really is sweet, looks just like you too.”
“hopefully that's a compliment!” , he joked.
“Oh trust me, it is.” , you didn’t.
the both of you chuckled, his hand moved to the doorframe, and he had no right to look that good while doing it. the prominent muscles in his forearms flexed as he lent against it, he looked so casual and it was making you drool. he was nice, funny and kind and hot.
“i’ll uh, i’ll see you around!” , you said,pointing over your shoulder to your house. “I live right by there, feel free to pop by if you need anything.”  
“yeah, ‘course. it was nice meeting you.” “you too.”
Tumblr media
the house was quiet, eerily so, as charlie stepped in. he was still in his suit, pressed and stained with the scent of the cheap coffee at his office. he had to wear it today, something about an important meeting he told you about over the phone. you weren’t listening, to busy imagining the sight that was charlie in a suit.
and now you were finally going to be able to see just what you had been imagining all day.
charlie toed off his tight black loafers by your door, letting his bag fall from his shoulder next to the hall closet as he stepped further into the threshold of your home. he’d expected you to be sitting on the couch with a show on, or in the kitchen grabbing a late night snack, but you weren’t.
he loosened his tie as he cautiously stepped up the stairs, cringing slightly when he stepped over one of the creakier stairs. now, he was curious. if you weren’t downstairs, you had to be upstairs in your bedroom. you were probably asleep, work had run a bit late,  right
a soft noise pierced through the sound of his feet padding against the material of your floors. it was muffled but loud enough for him to hear it from the landing of your stairs just by your room. the door was cracked open, ever so slightly, creaking as he pushed it open.
there you were, spread out against your bed. sheets wrinkled and blankets messily sprawled out beneath your bare body. he leant against the doorframe, eyes fixated where your fingers worked against your core. your free hand came up to gently muffle the noises slipping out of your mouth.
tugged his tie lower and unbuttoned the first few button of his clean, white dress shirt. you only noticed his presence when he walked further into the room, looming over you from the foot of the bed. 
“ch-charlie”, your glossy eyes raked over his body, taking him in. a dark black blazer rested across his broad shoulders, still as wide as the first day you saw him. you watched as he tugged it off, the white shirt below enhanced all the muscles in his arms. “now, now  don’t stop? i was enjoying the show.”,  your fingers flew back to your core, rubbing against your clit fervorously.
his dress pants tightened around his waist as he filled them out. his hands, god those hands, finally pulled off his tie and he tossed it aside along with his shirt. you watched in awe as he climbed up the bed, dark eyes dragging over your body like he would never see it again, like he was trying to memorise every part of you.
you barely noticed him tugging off his belt with his other hand, letting it fall to the floor as he leaned down and pulled you into a kiss. “what’s the occasion baby?”, he hummed, lips trailing down to place messy kisses along your neck, leaving marks in his wake.  “i’m free this weekend too, neither of us have any work to do. mh, thought we’d start the weekend with a, uh- bang.”, he chuckled gently into you. “that so, baby?”
he pulled away gently, tugging off the rest of his clothes before diving back into kissing you, letting himself roam over the tops of your breasts. your back arching off the mattress as his tongue worked expertly against your nipples, circling them before taking them into the warm suction of his mouth. 
“mmph, daddy, fuck that feels good”,  well that was new for the both of you. charlie glanced up at you through hooded eyelids, your own fluttering and lips parted slightly to let out those sinful noises. he tugged your fingers away from your core, grabbing your hips and gently letting you grind against his thigh, that angle was just right. you had completely given up on trying to muffle yourself, letting moans slip out and echo against the warm walls of your bedroom. 
“yeah baby? like when daddy helps you out, huh?” ,he whispered in a low voice. you whimpered out a small yes, words bracketed by moans and whimpers. god, he was loving this,  
he felt your hands grab gently onto locks of his hair and tug. “i want more”, you said, dragging him back up to your lips. “yeah sweetheart?”, one hand held himself up beside your hand and the other came down to pump himself. he groaned quietly into your neck and circled your entrance with his tip. “d-don’t tease daddy, please?” .
“why would i do that, baby? you were playing with yourself without daddy’s permission, i really should punish you.”  “n-no, please daddy, i-i really didn’t mean to- please”, your voice sounded broken and he could feel his facade crack as he looked up into your watery eyes. “d-daddy, i promise i- agh!”, he cut off your rambling with a harsh push of himself inside your walls. he let himself revel in the feeling for just a moment, you were warm, softly pulsing around you, coating his cock with a layer of slick. “ what was that, baby?”, he asked mockingly, words punctuated with soft thrusts. “i- mmh- i won’t do it again, please, need more! please, i promise- hng- fuck!”
“not without daddy’s permission? you’ll ask like a good girl, yeah?”  
“yeah, yeah! i’ll be a good girl for you daddy, please let me cum- ha- please!”, he watched you fall apart beneath him. hand moving from your hips down to grab your thighs, pushing them into your chest in one easy movement. the new angle made him feel even deeper and you swore you could feel him bruise your cervix. your fingers slipped down to rub at your clit, motons slippery and soaking your fingers gently.
“d-daddy, ‘m close. please- let me cum- mmph!” , he cut off your moans with a kiss. “cum for me, sweetheart.”
as if his words set off a trigger, the band inside of you snapped. your whole body relaxing before your body burned with white, hot pleasure. he followed soon after, sweet moans filling your ears as he filled you with his cum. with a few final thrusts he finished riding out your high, letting your thighs fall back to bracketing his body as he held himself above you with shaky arms.
he let himself collapse beside you after a moment, dragging you to snuggle into his chest gently. strong arms held you close and your sweaty bodies practically melted into each other in exhaustion. just as your eyes fell shut, his voice pierced through the comfortable silence between the both of you.
“guess we both like the whole ‘daddy’ thing, huh?
Tumblr media
reblog to support your creators!
146 notes · View notes
esorxy · 3 months ago
Text
fengqing fic recs very high quality
its only been 2 weeks and ive legit not thought anything else since these pretty mfs infested in my mind
The Best Way to One-Up your Rival (May have Side-Effects) by viari9
(30k, basically post canon rivalry turned gay) and actually like the best fanfic ever. i keep re-reading it and will smile uncontrollably every time. i dont know if its because tgcf was literally all crack but all the fanfics are so funny for some reason. everyone is obsessed with mu qing bc hes soooo pretty and so snarky (like for what???) and he gets absolutely destroyed TM.
Your beauty never ever scared me by doordaash
(48k, MQ hanahaki) & omfg the hurt/comfort in this fic was insane while also having so much miscommunication that im fr going bald from pulling my hair out. bro the amount of time it took for them to confess... im going mad. amazing for seeing qing mei in pain and getting comforted and i was like damn they wrote such a heart wrenching fic without ANY smut but then like a week later i realised there was a part 2 which was full on pwp.
I’m fair with everyone else but you by theinkquiry
(5k, trapped in a closet but its some temple trap) this was soooo cute because qing mei legit started crying on human contact wahhhhh
try again, try again, try again by absolutefuckery
(24k, legit just kissing and fengqing with good plot) i cant remember what happened other than the kissing but i was screaming in glee the whole way through and feng xin was sooo whipped fr
little beastie by Annabec
(6k, de-aged MQ whos still a brat) reading this made me think about how feng xin would be like as a dad bc he was so cute with little MQ that MQ was like attached to him. and iMAGINE them fengqing kids omg they would be so damn funny as parents
touchstarved by nemaria
(52k, they get curse to not feel touch) bro idk why they were sooo horny at the end like calm the fuck down ur legit just touching his forearm.
I Want to Ki** You by Tyelperintal
(25k) legit DONT rememebr what this was about but it was GOOD so maybe ill reread it someday ...
The southern guide to a happy marriage by illuminate 
(27k, 'fake' marriage as gods) but they still kiss and sleep together and lovingly call each other 'husband' in public *facepalm*
I can feel your halo by illuminate
(37k) so mq loses his powers and hes like 'well the only logical thing to do now is to get fucked!' but also at the end fx is like i want to hold your hand TT and it was so sweet, also they fight a ghost
Ashes by 3isalot
(5k mq getting curse/comfort) read this for qing mei finally getting physical comfort from feng xin and xie lian <33333
love bruise by newamsterdam
(7k post mt tonglu sleeping together & switching) this is soo explicit but so damn good! i used to judge my friend for saying 'ooh this smut is so tender' but I GET IT NOW 😭😭😭
84 notes · View notes
incogrio · 11 months ago
Note
can you do idol!reader x idol!soobin and a fic of how the two of them catch feelings idk
c.sb - idol!soobin x idol!reader falling in love hcs
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: idol!soobin x idol!gn!reader
genre: fluff fluff fluff
synopsis: hcs on how u and soobin started dating :33
warnings: none! except for cat ears but nothing can be done there ☹️
a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST!! i hope you like it (this is very intimidating) and i hope you don’t mind that i made it hcs!! hope you enjoy and feel free to send in as many requests as u want hehehe
Tumblr media
i think you guys would have had to meet at mnet, or something of that sort
he was a rookie, you had debuted a year before him, and he was always a huge fan of yours
he didn’t really know much about you, other than how talented you were.
so you may be asking, how did he catch feelings?
well…
all of the members had their own little introduction moments when you first debuted
you were all nervous and he was a trainee at the time and something about seeing someone he looked up to being nervous brought him so much comfort
and then he watched more and more of your videos. and performances. and interviews.
it may have started as a comfort thing, but then it turned into being jealous whenever your fans would talk about you
or when the members would make fun of him
yeah he has a few posters of you in his room what about it
so a little bit after txt debuted, he was the MC that year with arin, and was so excited to interview u!! until he was told that for the cat & dog promotion he had to wear dog ears. the. whole. day.
“i’m gonna end it,” “you’ll survive” “THEYRE GOING TO SEE ME IN DOG EARS!!”
cut to members laughing hysterically and him pacing back and forth
he was soooo red during the interview that you even went off script, pointing it out which made him laugh and cover his face (he wanted to implode on the spot)
but then… him being flustered made u laugh and…
yeah he got a little hard on stage SO WHAT??
after the interview and after he had calmed down he was walking with his members (all dressed in cat and dog ears) and he saw you and i think he actually died
tried to hide behind beomgyu (stupidly) and was immediately met w a “yahh!” and a shove into the wall
the loud bang of his back hitting the wall made you look over and he literally refused to look at you
you felt sad for him and wanted to make him feel better, so u tried to give him a compliment!
“nice ears!” you smiled, but his flustered mind immediately made him think you were making fun of him. he didn’t respond, just bowing slightly and shuffling away awkwardly
when you told your members, they were absolutely horrified
what do you MEAN you complimented the ONE thing they had been insecure about?? OBVIOUSLY THEY THOUGHT YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF THEM!!
oh. oh god.
the next day, you were absolutely mortified and had to make things right, especially since you were a big fan and had a raging crush on the long legged loser
this day, you had an interview with the mcs as a group, and after you had promoted your new album, you went up to him.
yeah no soobie was pissing his pants
“hello.. i just wanted to say that i didn’t mean what i said yesterday to be mean! i genuinely think it’s cute and i love your group so much!” you beamed at him
he literally reached to his arm and pinched himself
no fucking way dude
he smiled nodded and physically could not do anything else other than bow
you seemed overly professional with him, and that made him sad
“alright well, i have to go. fighting!”
bro just nods like 😦
on the very last day as a mc, he knew he HAD to get your number
he tried to talk to taehyun, since he has borderline gotten every idols number
taehyun laughed and said he didn’t have rizz.
so he decided to just wing it
yeah haha that didn’t go well
he found you after your performance, you were sweaty and WOAH brother he was having thoughts
“hello!” he bows, “you did so good!” you didn’t really respond bc like.. why is he talking to you?? you have a strictly professional relationship
you smile awkwardly and thank him, before falling into DISGUSTING silence (how soobin describes it)
“um… i just wanted to say that i really liked your… your performance? and… i really like… you?”
L RIZZ!! (it worked on you so bad)
he was stuttering and nervous and was basically ASKING you if he liked you
you decided to put him out of his misery
“thank you!” you bow, “i have to go soon, but if you give me your number we can talk more?”
soobin borderline got on his knees and thanked jesus personally
in reality he just nodded super eagerly and was shaking so bad he had to rewrite his name in your contacts four times
now, you’ve been dating for three years
you still make fun of him for that whole event, and he wants to die everytime but it makes you laugh so he doesn’t care all that much
he still hates how he needs to act super professional towards you on camera
he wishes he could kiss you in front of everyone so they’d stop shopping you with people other than him
and so everyone knew you were taken
physically pains him whenever he sees a fan try to flirt with you
or another idol even doing so much as talking and laughing with you
my bf crazy he kill people
you just need to reassure him with kisses to his little bunny lips and he’ll be fit as a fiddle
no guarantees if you’re getting anything done that day tho…
Tumblr media
comment, dm or send in an ask to be added to the tag list!
249 notes · View notes
littlemissmiller · 1 year ago
Text
𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑠
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐢𝐦
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: drug dealer!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
Summary: (au) Your last summer before college and Coriolanus is still just as in love with you as the first time he saw you, but all of high school you’ve been taken. Meanwhile Coriolanus isn’t looking forward to college, but at least he can still make money dealing drugs. During the last week of school, he notices how fragile your relationship has become and something makes him think he still may have one last chance with you before the summer is over…
Warning: 21+ (mentions or drugs/ drug use) eventually smut, mentions of masturbation (m and f), mentions of oral (m and f receiving), jealously, slight obsession, possession, toxic relationship, slight stalking
Word count: 4k
A/N: hello all! my first series! soooo i’ve had this idea in mind for a while, but it felt like a summer write/read and i figured since a good amount of y’all are high school age or older this would appeal more and now that the school year is over i figured y’all have more time to read too. also i have another joel fic so that is coming soooon (closely followed by a billy fic) i’m so excited about this one like…i had so much fun writing it and i’m guesssing it’s gonna be like 12 chapters long…idk we shall see :) i hope you enjoy
Series Masterlist | Playlist
☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎
Coriolanus is ready for the summer. He’s so sick of school, even though he excels at it. He barely has to study and usually did his homework last minute and still got all A’s. His grandma had encouraged him to go to college next year, even though school didn’t quite interest him anymore. He thought about joining ROTC once he got to campus, but truthfully, why would he give up his little side deal for some army pricks and a “free” ride to college when business was about to be booming.
In his sophomore year, Coriolanus had taken up dealing drugs. Mainly he stuck to weed or psychedelics like mushrooms or acid, and occasionally ecstasy. He didn’t dare sell hard shit and he always made sure his stuff was clean. He had help. From time to time, his friend, Sejanus, would steal from his mother’s medicine cabinet. Xanax, Valium, whatever Mrs. Plinth’s psychiatrist would prescribe, he would manage to steal a few whenever his mother decided not to take her meds that day. It was a system that worked well for Coriolanus, and a system that he would need to maintain. Which is why he decided to go to college only about an hour away from his town. Being from a small, rural town in Illinois didn’t leave Coriolanus many options except the big public school close to the city. A booming college town, where Coriolanus knew he’d be able to expand his “customers” and still manage to keep up his means of getting the drugs he sold.
Luckily enough for him, Sejanus was attending the same college as Coriolanus. Which meant “visits back home” were opportunities for Coriolanus to stock up on his stash and sell. He would be able to tag along with a homesick Sejanus frequently, or at least that’s what Coriolanus predicts given how nostalgic he has seemed to become in the last couple of months. It’s Sejanus’s new favorite hobby. Recalling old memories and moments from the past. Some of which Coriolanus didn’t even realize how much those mundane moments Sejanus’s brain clinged to. How much he cared about their hometown and especially his family. Coriolanus didn’t understand. It wasn’t like he was going halfway across the country, unlike you.
You were bound for California, had big dreams of becoming a cancer researcher for a children’s hospital, and absolutely over the moon to be going to Stanford. Coriolanus wasn’t as thrilled. He had long desired you, wanted you as his own, but since the first week of freshman year you had been so out of his grasp. Too distracted by someone on the football or basketball team, and by your sophomore year you had gotten with one of those football players, Devon. Coriolanus still saw you around however. You and him had shared every AP science course since sophomore year and you considered Coriolanus to be a school friend. That was all. Yet, all of the science classes you and him had spent together left plenty of room for you to chat about Devon. And for some reason you felt safe to talk to him about whenever he would do something to upset you. But you never left him.
So, Coriolanus had watched you from afar, longing to have you all to himself. As high school went on, you only grew more and more beautiful and Coriolanus would often imagine you laying bare before him on his bed. When he was home, he couldn’t help but jerk himself off to the image of you with your hand on your wet core, playing with your clit in between your fingers. That’s all he could picture as he pumped his length in the shower most nights. One hand against the wall the other stroking himself as he pictures you begging for him to fuck you. Your soft pleas tumbling from your beautiful lips like a prayer.
Why couldn’t he have you? Why did some himbo athlete have to have you when Coriolanus was clearly superior to him. He didn’t blame you though. Devon was popular, which made you popular by default and after being in a relationship for so long, he knew it wasn’t easy to just leave someone like that. If anything he blamed himself for not getting to you first. For not asking you out when he had the chance.
Not thinking you’d be interested, the one time Coriolanus had gotten an opportunity to ask you out was freshman year. It was after biology class right before winter break and Coriolanus wanted to take you to a movie. You were his lab partner that day and it’s all that was on his mind. When just the right moment arose, he first asked if you wanted to meet later that night to finish the lab so they would have less homework over break, but mainly to see if you were free to hang out. Coriolanus was quickly let down when you informed him that you would’ve liked to, but your family was going out of town to visit your grandparents for the holidays.
“I’ll just have to finish it when I get back from break.” You had sighed
And that was the only real time he’d had talked to you still single. What a pity given it was the last week of school now. Exams were nearly over and Coriolanus had told himself to give up on you, but he couldn’t seem to let you go. Even though it was the last week, and graduation was this weekend, he still desired you deeply. More than the day he met you. Coriolanus watched you in AP Literature as the class went over the study guide. You twirled your hair, bored and just as ready for the relaxing summer break as he was. He tried not to gawk, but he couldn’t help it. You looked so god damn precious today. Your green plaid skirt just barely followed the dress code and your white shirt was ruffled around the edges and fit your body nicely. Your black converse high tops dangled above the floor. All he wanted to do was take you into a bathroom stall, bend you over, bunch up your skirt and admire your ass. He bet it was soft and round. He imagined a pair of cotton, white panties under it all, soaked. His cock started to harden in his jeans, so Coriolanus moved in his seat to hide his stirring erection.
The bell rings about ten minutes later and thankfully he’s settled down enough to where his bulge isn’t quite so obvious. He snatches up his book bag and looks up. As the last few students file out, you are asking the teacher a few questions. Coriolanus gets up and heads for the door. As he passed you, you finish your conversation and quickly move to catch up to him.
“Hey!” You shouted
Coriolanus paused at the door, turning his head to look at you
“I know it’s exam week and you are busy, but this physics lab is going to be the death of me.”
Coriolanus couldn’t believe it. Were you about to ask for his help outside of class? You had always been going to him for help with your science classes. Even though you had managed to score higher than him on every exam in science, for some reason physics was killing you. So all semester, you had been asking Coriolanus for help during class, but only during class. You never asked to finish your work with him after school.
“Are you asking for my help?” He smiles
Personally, you don’t want to take away from his time since Coriolanus seemed like the type of man that valued his free time and didn’t like to bother with school outside of school. In addition, his mysterious, stern demeanor was intimidating and you didn’t know if you were bothering him while he was trying to make money. You knew he dealt drugs and frankly, the idea of that scared you too, so much as you need his help and your science classes and in all honesty, you were just afraid to ask him for anything at all.
But Coriolanus always assumed it was because of how protective Devon was. Which was also true. He didn’t like you talking to other guys outside of class, and he was particularly wary of Coriolanus. It was no secret that he was handsome. Coriolanus had built his own reputation as someone who slept around. And as much of a neanderthal as Devon was, he damn well knew that Coriolanus looked at you like you’re his prey.
“Yes” you sighed
“I don’t mind.”
“Really”
“Not at all. I’m free tonight.”
“Thank you so much. You have no idea, I’d seriously be lost without you.”
“Of course!” He chirped
“I appreciate it. Wanna meet up at Panera after school?”
“Sounds good.”
You smiled, waved and walked off
Fuckfuckfuck you said “lost without him.” That felt so personal. And your sweet smile. Why are you so perfect. Your hips sway as you walk away and Coriolanus’s cock starts to get hard again, until he see’s something that makes him want to repulse. Your boyfriend approached you from the other end of the hall. Devon came up to you,hugged you and groped your ass. What an obnoxious ass, can’t he tell you don’t like that kind of attention in school. He gave you a sleazy smile and Coriolanus turned his attention away.
After school, he headed to Panera as instructed and waited for you. You pulled up, your boyfriend dropping you off in his 2016 White Mercedes C-Class. You walk inside and find him sitting in the back.
“Hey. I’m going to order food. Did you get something?” You asked
“Nah I’m not all that hungry.”
“Okay!” You smile and walk to the counter to order.
You came back quickly, sat beside Coriolanus, putting your book bag between them. You pulled out you physics textbook, laptop and the lab. As you explained why you were confused, Coriolanus explained the material to you, but was so tempted again. So tempted by the way your knee peaked at him and when you crossed your legs, letting more of your thigh show, he nearly fell apart. He hated how desperate he was for you. How badly he wanted you. He’d do anything just to hear you instruct him to get on his knees and bury his face in between your thighs.
When your food came, he refocused his attention on your homework. Why couldn’t he control himself? Why was he so drawn to your temptations today? You always looked so beautiful, but Coriolanus felt feral.
“Ugh what am I going to do next year without you in my science classes!” You sighed
There you go again. Making everything sound personal and intimate. Clever as always, Coriolanus replied.
“Well good thing you have my number right?”
“Yeah, but we won’t be in the same class and I don’t want to bother you.”
“It’s not a bother” he follows up quickly
“You’re always so sweet. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime…” he smiles
Your phone buzzed, it’s Devon. You pick up and he seems annoyed. You tried to calm him down but somehow he figured out that you’re here studying with Coriolanus.
“You’re being ridiculous ok. Let’s just talk when we get back to my house…busy…with what?” You speak in a harsh whisper. “Ok whatever… just come back and drop me back home. Ok please?”
Coriolanus acted like he didn’t notice, but he watched in agony as tears welled up in your eyes. You took a deep breath, close your eyes, and swallowed your sadness along with the last sip of your Cola. Even though he should mind his own business, he couldn’t contain himself. He had to ask if you were ok. Besides, it's not like you don’t already confide in him during class anyways.
“It’s ok. I’ll be good.” You said, your lip quivering
You excuse yourself to refill your drink and Coriolanus packs up his things.
What a fucking insecure dick.
Coriolanus knew that you’re not the type to cheat. If anything Devon would cheat on you in a second. As protective as he was of you, he seemed to have a different set of rules for himself. Coriolanus saw Devon at parties, how’d he flirt with other girls when you weren’t around, or check out the cheerleaders at games. Yet you couldn’t have any real guy friends, and he truly couldn’t stand Coriolanus.
“You sure? I could give you a ride home since he seems…”
“No it’s fine…he’ll be here soon anyways. I appreciate your help.”
Your lip quivers slightly and you hide your face as you pretend to yawn. It’s something you’ve learned to help you to hide your tears and prevent you from falling apart into a big mess. But Coriolanus saw right through it because he had seen it before. He wanted to hold you, tell you to dump Devon and be with him instead. He would kiss you, to show you just how serious he was. He imagined delicately stroking your chin with his thumb and forefinger, guiding your face to his and kissing you deeply. He would be slow, tender, his lips simply ghosting over your own. He would still hold you daintily, his breath fanning over your face as he told you how much he loves you.
You look outside, turning away from Coriolanus, stifling your cries as a single tear rolls down your cheek. Coriolanus can’t help it; he has to say something.
“You know if you ever need someone to talk to I don’t mind. Sometimes it’s easier to tell someone you’re not as close with. Because then it’s like you’re speaking into a void and it doesn’t really matter what you say. But at least you got it off your chest.”
You pause for a moment and look back at him. You contemplate the offer and as much as you want to just talk his ear off about all the ways in which your boyfriend sucks, you’re afraid that he’ll just be more upset with you, thinking somehow he’ll find out.
“It’s ok. I’ll just vent to my mom when I get home.”
“You sure?” He asks, trying to hide his desperation
You reach out and touch his forearm gently. Your affections burn on his skin, your fingertips branding him.
“I’m sure. Thanks anyways.”
You release him, giving him a small smile. You feel like you should apologize and he simply smirks in approval, his eyes following your hand as it leaves him. Then your phone buzzes again. It lights up with a text from Devon and Coriolanus glances outside at the parking lot. He sees your boyfriend pull up, park, and exit his vehicle. For a moment he thinks your boyfriend is about to walk in, but he simply pouts against the car like a grumpy toddler.
“Good luck with your other exams. I know you’ll do fine.”
You walk off, quickly gather your things and walk out the door. He watches you leave and his eyes peer out the window. You trot along to Devon’s car innocently, scared like a newborn deer. He stares at you hawkishly, arms crossed. He shoves his body back into the car once you make it onto the other side, starting it up and you disappear behind the door as it closes. Coriolanus hangs his head in frustration and sighs. You didn’t deserve him.
You belong with him. You belong with Coriolanus.
He felt a tinge of unease thinking about it, not wanting to become as possessive and obsessive as Devon, but he really meant it. He felt he would know how to treat you like a queen. Give you lots of nice things or if you needed cash to buy something you wanted, he’d give it to you. Sell more weed and Xanax to get you whatever you want. But if he could have you, hold you, treat you right, and tell you how much he loves you, he felt like you would want it just as much as he did.
When he gets home, Coriolanus heads up to his room. His cousin and grandma were out shopping for their dresses to wear to his graduation. Coriolanus had picked out a nice pair of black slacks, and a white button up. He wasn’t one for ties normally, and given the heat, he didn’t want to feel too constrained. It was hanging up in his closet, facing him as he enters his room, along with his cap and gown. He sits down at his desk, placing his book bag down and getting his laptop out. He decides to check his grades one last time even though he already knows what it will say. He logs on to his school's website.
Coriolanus C. Snow
Student ID: 1008452024
Current Standing: Senior (Academic Honors)
Current GPA: 4.0
Accumulative GPA: 4.3
Spring Semester 2024
AP Physics A
AP Literature A
European History A
AP Calculus A
Political Science A
Latin Studies A
The corners of his mouth slid up into a half smile. He was of course not upset with himself, but knew that school was the only thing he was really good at, but completely hated. He was still going to go to college, just to get a degree of anything and why would he miss out on the opportunity to sell to his target market. Even though he hated school, and was dragging his feet to go to college, Coriolanus had bigger ambitions. He thought that even if it meant four more years of school and lectures, getting a degree might lead him towards a better career. Coriolanus often heard of people getting into politics and getting intern jobs working for Senators and Representatives. It was truly the only thing that appealed to him. Even though he excelled in nearly every course, politics and civics seemed to have taken over his attention more than his other subjects. And his teachers noted how he seemed to have more interest in those classes versus science or math. So he thought that maybe college could offer an opportunity for him to get him to a place of power, which not even he realizes how much he desires that kind of control.
Then his phone vibrates, taking him off guard and away from his thoughts. It’s you. He immediately picks it up. He can sense your emotions through the phone and the immediate sniffle you give him, confirms his suspicions.
“Hey what’s up?”
“Oh I just had a quick question on this lab I realized I left the last question blank. Do you think we could FaceTime real quick?” You ask tentatively
“Sure.”
You transfer the call to FaceTime him and he picks up. He put the phone against the wall and your beautiful face appears. It’s slightly blurry because of the connection, but Coriolanus can still make out your beautiful features although they are covered by your clearly upset face. You had been crying, hard, your eyes slightly red and puffy.
“So what’s up” Coriolanus continues quickly
“Yeah so it's talking about how I’m supposed to connect my parts of the equation to the students equation in the problem but also explain the reasoning for why part b) works with part a) and show mathematical reasoning.”
Coriolanus smiles and begins to break down the problem in the lab and you start to frantically scribble down on your page, occasionally glancing up showing that you understand and are following along. All the while, he’s just as focused on your beautiful, round eyes, as they concentrate on his words. He tries desperately not to picture those same pretty eyes looking up at him, you on your knees, naked and sucking his cock. He knows that your eyes would look just as attractive and engaged by him. He shakes his head to refocus, but he’s hard under his desk. Luckily it’s just a video call, because his bulge is ever so apparent. Once Coriolanus finishes explaining it, you smile and sigh in relief.
“That makes sense. Thanks Coriolanus…”
“See, next semester I can still help you like this, you know.”
“I guess you’re right” you smile back “is that your bed?” You ask, pointing behind him.
“Yeah.” He confirms, turning around to look at it.
“I like the comforter. Your room looks cool by the way” you follow up
His bed sheets are navy blue plaid with red and white stripes in a grid style pattern. He looks around his room and admires his decor. Coriolanus occupies a room on the top floor. It wasn’t quite cramped like an attic, but it was close to the roof. It was cozy, with a slanted wall. The back wall was uncovered brick, with a wood ceiling. Coriolanus had put a few of his favorite band posters up as well as some vinyl covers. He tried to keep things simple with his bed against one wall and his desk against the other. He had a laptop that sat on his desk and a TV that screwed onto the wall above his desk, which he easily fit his PS4 under.
“Maybe you should come see it in person sometime” he suggests, not realizing what he has said.
When he does, he mentally kicks himself for being so forward, and your eyes dart down to the ground in your own room.
You stupid ass.
As he curses himself, you glance back up with a smile
“Hopefully I can see it at your graduation party. Assuming you're having one?” You follow up
“Possibly. I wasn’t sure, but my family wants to throw me one. What about you?” He asks
“Oh yeah I’m sending invitations out to the whole grade. We are having it at our country club, me and Devon. It's kinda a combination party I guess.” You explain
“Oh fun”
“It’s gonna be at the end of June so when you get the invite, let me know. You can text me and I’ll tell my dad.”
“Yeah sure. Well I won’t keep ya any longer.” Coriolanus nods, his lips sporting the most charming smile and you match his expression.
“Ok well, if I don’t see you much at school then I’ll see you this weekend at graduation?” You imply, unsure if he would even bother going since he almost never attended non-mandatory school events.
“Yeah, I’ll see you there for sure”
“Hey just real quick, earlier today with Devon, it’s just he gets a bad temper and makes assumptions”
Coriolanus nods, not wanting to scare you off, but he’s invested in having you tell him what more upsets you.
“I’m sorry, that sounds frustrating.”
“Well I guess you’ve always been there to listen so I just wanna say thanks for all these times. You know it’s funny though we get into these fights and I talk to you and feel better then he goes back to normal, well at least for a while then he gets back into his ways, so I’m just hoping he’ll mature more in college. Stop acting like a toddler sometimes” you smirk
Oh you poor thing, you don’t even realize how bad he truly is. You don’t even realize you're stuck in his toxic cycle. Coriolanus wishes he could swoop in and take you away. Treat you better. Coriolanus gives you a sympathetic smile and continues to show he’s listening to you. After a few silent moments, you say goodbye and hang up. Coriolanus feels like he can breathe again. You overwhelm him to a degree he didn’t even think was possible. Which he feels it between his legs, his cock is still rock hard.
Fuck you get him so worked up it’s unbelievable. He knows he’ll have to handle his member in the shower before dinner, but for now he smiles to himself. Coriolanus leans his chair back, mouth agape as he sighs at the ceiling. Maybe he could have a chance with you after all. He doesn’t want to get too hopeful, but something tells him he might just be able to get his chance with you before the summer ends.
꧁🝮❤︎︎🝮꧂
Next Chapter
154 notes · View notes
jtl07 · 2 months ago
Note
I’m a sucker for their time in Switzerland ⛰️ I just love the vibe, and Ava working as a bartender 🍹And your fic with everything from their apartment is so, so good! Absolutely one of my favorites ❤️ Soooo, I would love a fic from that time. They kissed the day before, but it was when they danced and Beatrice was drunk for the first time. They are both really unsure of where they stand, but both wants it to mean more. Who makes the move and how? Up to you 😉 Thank you 🙏🏼
omg anon I'm really sorry about the delay on this one - this turned out wildly different from what I'd drafted before, hopefully it's still as good?? <3 thanks so much for your patience - and giving such love to looks for you in everything (finds you there)! - and for playing!!
"Do you remember -" Beatrice is already smiling before Ava has finished her question, her voice light and dreamy "- our first kiss?" 
Beatrice closes her book, gives Ava all of her attention; receives a grin and Ava falling into her lap as a response. It's a question Ava's asked many times before, less now that she's had time to settle from being on the other side, back when Ava would stop in mid-stride, mid-bite, or the middle of the night, panicked and anxious; unsure. More often than not, the cause would be a memory from the other side with its endless fire and pain, but sometimes it would be one from the life she'd lived on this side of reality; the one shared with Beatrice. 
Those always left Ava trembling, eyes wide and lined with tears, the hardest to reconcile. Beatrice quickly learned that in those moments, Ava's utterance of "do you remember?" was less a fond trip into nostalgia but a question of sanity, a desperate check on what was real, what was right, what was hers. Because when one has lived a life of hardship and torture and sacrifice, the most impossible gift one could receive is a life filled with joy. 
And it has been: joyful, beautiful. With the war behind them, peace has helped to fill in the cracks left in its wake. It's not perfect - and Beatrice is finally learning to accept that nothing ever is - but seeing Ava like this, eyes bright and the shadows far in the distance, makes everything okay.
Beatrice wraps her arms around Ava, brushes their noses together in that way that always makes Ava laugh - smiles when she hears that beautiful sound. "I do remember," Beatrice says, and they recall together: how Ava had gotten her drunk (you were so, so pretty, Bea - still are, the prettiest; you're an incorrigible flirt; why thank you, Mrs. Silva), how Hans had sent them home, how they'd spent the entirety of their walk giggling at how they tripped over their own feet because they were so tightly wrapped around each other; because they refused to let each other go. 
"I remember how the moonlight seemed to make you glow -" and here Beatrice's voice drops low; it always does when she remembers this moment. And as always, Ava flushes, bites her lip: remembering, too "- and all the reasons, all the excuses I'd been telling myself about why I shouldn't kiss you just - disappeared. So I did." She gently palms the red spreading across Ava's cheek. "And it was wonderful." 
Ava sighs - once in agreement; then again with a lowered gaze. "But then I stopped you, because you were drunk. Because I got you drunk." 
"It was alright, Ava. You did nothing wrong," Beatrice murmurs, replaces her hand with her lips. This, too, happens often - the guilt, the reassurance. "Because our second kiss the next morning was even better." 
Ava laughs softly at that, as she always does, and the way she looks up shyly reminds her so much of that morning - Ava, skittish at the kitchen counter, ready to run but trying so hard to stay, to be brave; to hope - that Beatrice's hands can't help but take the same places they did that day: one hand slides up to Ava's waist, holds her close, hold her steady; the other hand curls into the curve of Ava's neck, brings her closer still. 
Remember this, Beatrice thinks as she presses her lips to Ava's, breathes the promise she always makes when they kiss, that I love you: then, and now; in this life, and the next.
38 notes · View notes
persephoneflowerpetals · 1 month ago
Text
‘Til Death
Chapter 13: It’s Happy Ending Time!
Chapter 12: Hostile Takeover
Tumblr media
SURPRISE! I finished this chapter up so freaking quick lol! Here’s a lovely way to end your week! ❤️ But oh my gosh, I can’t believe this is the last chapter! It’s been a journey! I just wanna give the BIGGEST thank you to everyone who’s been keeping up with the story and hanging in there through my long hiatuses lol! Seriously, I didn’t think anyone would be too interested in this fic or my Persephone, but I was blown away by the amount of support I’ve gotten from people over the past few years (can’t believe this fic took me like 3 years to make lmao), so seriously THANK YOU SO SO SOOOO MUCH to all my followers, mutuals, and to the future readers who stumble upon fic some day! 🥰🫶❤️💕 This is the LONGEST fanfiction I’ve ever made in my life and I’m glad I could improve my writing as I continued making more chapters! I’m honestly really proud of myself for this and this fic has really made me consider taking a career in writing someday ☺️💕 Also, this isn’t end, I can absolutely promise you that! I have TONS of new fanfictions and even some new fic series based off of aus that I’m planning on writing so please stay tuned for more Hades and Persephone fics! And again, thank you to everyone for reading my self indulgent fanfiction and I hope you’ve enjoyed it and that you enjoy this final chapter! 🫶❤️
By the time Hercules, Pegasus, Hades, and Persephone left the Underworld, it was very late at night. The moon and the stars were still shining brightly and beautifully as Morpheus finally finished draping his blanket of sleep across the night sky, blessing the mortals who were staying up late with a peaceful slumber.
Hercules and Pegasus soared across the sky as Hades and Persephone followed close behind in Hades’ chariot until the group made a landing at the top of Mount Olympus.
Hercules then dismounted from Pegasus and gave his head a little pat before making his way up the large set of stairs made of fluffy clouds and over to the tall, golden gates that seemed to gleam and shine even under the moonlight. He took a deep breath before knocking on the gates.
In a blur of light blue, Hermes zipped over to the gates. It seemed that he was working late tonight, as he was fully dressed and didn’t seem to be the least bit sleepy.
“Hey! Alright, man! It’s Hercules! What brings you by?” Hermes greeted cheerfully as he opened the gates.
“Uh, I was just wondering if I could talk to my father. Normally I’d just visit his temple, but um...” Hercules nervously explained as he glanced back at Hades and Persephone who were standing on the steps further back behind him.
Hermes looked past Hercules’ shoulder and blinked in surprise, “Woah, am I, like, seeing things or is that who I think it is?” he asked as he removed his glasses and wiped them off with the hem of his chiton before putting them back on.
“Yeah…this is kind of a…special situation. That’s why I wanted to talk to him here.” Hercules said with an awkward smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yikes. I’ll grab your pops for ya, but I dunno if he’s gonna be too psyched about this, man. Good luck.” Hermes said skeptically before zooming off in a flash.
Hades, who had been watching the short interaction from afar with Persephone, frowned as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, I’m definitely not getting in. I should be the one doing the talking.”
“Just relax. If anyone can convince Zeus to let you back in, it’s him. Have a little faith.” Persephone assured him.
“Hey, if that kid’s gonna be pleading my case, I’m gonna need more than ‘faith’, babe. I need a divine miracle…and a good lawyer.”
Zeus and Hera then approached the open gates with warm and welcoming smiles. Hercules noticed that they were still in their sleepwear and felt a little guilty for waking them up at this hour, but this was a matter far too important to wait and discuss until morning.
“Hello, darling.” Hera greeted as she went to hug her son and give him a kiss on the cheek.
Zeus let out a hearty chuckle as he patted Hercules on the shoulder, “Hercules, my boy! It’s wonderful to see you! What — “ he began before glancing behind Hercules to find his notorious little brother giving him a nasty glare in the distance.
“Hades…”
Hades rolled his eyes, “Oy vey. Here we go.”
“I thought I told you to never show your face here again!” Zeus growled as he lunged in the direction of Hades, the dark clouds above them starting to rumble with thunder and release small flashes of lightning.
“Father! Wait! I can explain!” Hercules exclaimed as he jumped in front of Zeus.
“I brought him here.” He confessed.
Both Zeus and Hera looked at their son with a nonplussed expression as some of the other gods on Olympus started to gather around behind them. It seems Zeus’ outburst had woken up most of them and they were curious about what was going on.
“What?! Son, why would you do such a thing?!” Zeus asked.
“Hades is losing his powers. If he doesn’t marry Persephone by sundown tomorrow, he’ll lose them forever. If you could just lift Hades’ ban long enough for the wedding — “
“Persephone?” gasped Demeter as she quickly stepped away from the crowd and moved closer to the open gates.
“No! Absolutely not! It’s out of the question!” Zeus objected, the clouds above rumbling with thunder yet again.
“But father!” Hercules pleaded.
“I cannot allow this traitor to return to Mount Olympus, even if he is losing his powers.” Zeus said as he glowered at Hades, who glowered at him right back.
“After turning his back on his own family, I think that losing his powers would be a rather fitting punishment compared to banishment.”
“But, if Hades loses his powers, then he can’t rule the Underworld properly. He needs his powers back.” Hercules explained.
Zeus gave Hercules a stern look. He loved his son very much, and he hated to argue with him, but he had to put his foot down and make him understand that this was something he wasn’t going to change his mind on.
“My boy…”
“Father,” Hercules interrupted, “I know you’re still really upset with Hades, trust me, I am too, but…I can’t believe I’m saying this…I think there’s some good in him.”
“Good?! Hercules, he stole you away from us and tried to have you killed when you were a baby! He unleashed the titans, took the entire pantheon prisoner, and tried to take my place as King of the Gods! What on Gaia’s green earth would make you believe that he’s good?!” Zeus argued.
“Because, I heard Persephone say that Hades tried to sacrifice everything to save her!” Hercules said boldly.
Zeus, Hera, and Demeter all looked at Hercules with confusion and concern.
“Save her?” They asked in unison.
“Yes, it’s kind of a long story that…well even I don’t know a lot about, but what I do know is that Hades was willing to give up the entire Underworld for Persephone, and when Hades didn’t have the strength to keep fighting for her, she was willing to protect him. I know it sounds crazy…but I think if Hades actually cares about someone that much, then he must not be entirely heartless. I mean…I kinda did the same for Meg when she sacrificed her life to save mine.”
The dark, thundering clouds above Zeus began to dissipate as he listened to what his son had to say.
“Yes…well…I…”
Hera smiled as she placed her hands on Zeus’ shoulders. “Zeus, dear. Look at them.” She said as she nodded in the direction of Hades and Persephone.
Persephone held Hades’ arm as she glanced up at him with an anxious expression. Hades looked back down at her with a small reassuring smile as if to silently tell her “everything will be okay”. The spring goddess then smiled and cuddled into his arm as Hades gazed at her fondly.
“Have you ever seen Hades look at anyone in such a way before?” Hera asked her husband.
Zeus was a silent for a moment as he watched them, almost studying the couple in awe. He’s really never seen Hades this way before, so…in love. The way he gazed into Persephone’s eyes and smiled so tenderly at her; Zeus looked at his beloved Hera that way every day. It really started to make him see his brother in a whole new light. This certainly didn’t excuse all of the terrible things he’s done, but…maybe Hercules was right. Maybe Hades wasn’t the cruel and selfish god he thought he was.
“No…I don’t believe I have.” Zeus replied, his tone sounding almost astonished.
“Our Hercules may have a point. I agree that his heinous deeds are inexcusable, but if Hades was willing to make such a large sacrifice for love, perhaps we should allow Hades a second chance to gain back our trust. He is your little brother, after all, and if Hercules was kind enough to set aside his differences to show him mercy…then maybe we should as well.” Hera proposed.
His wife made a good argument. What Hades was had done was truly nefarious and he could probably never completely forgive him for betraying him in such a heinous way, but Hera was certainly right about one thing. Hades is his brother. He’s family.
As much as Zeus felt Hades’ predicament was very well deserved, there was an aching feeling of sympathy for him. He looked so weak and tired; he’s never seen his flame so small. It also seemed that he was genuinely in love with Persephone and from the looks of it, she was just as crazy about him. It’d be callous of him to make them suffer and deny them marriage.
He wasn’t quite sure what had transpired before to cause Hades to make such an extreme sacrifice to give up the Underworld, but if Hades was truly willing to go that far for Persephone…then maybe there was hope for him. Perhaps Hades deserved a second chance to redeem himself. Who knows? Maybe Persephone will be a positive influence on him.
Zeus turned his head towards his wife and smiled as he placed a hand over hers on his shoulder. He then sighed and walked down a few steps from Olympus’ entrance.
“Alright then…” Zeus announced, “From what I’ve heard and witnessed here tonight, I believe that Hades…has the opportunity for a second chance…to make things right and earn back our trust. So, as King of the Gods, I decree that as long as Hades remains married to Persephone…his sentence of banishment from Mount Olympus will be lifted. Therefore, I will allow Hades and Persephone to be married on Olympus.”
Both and Hades and Persephone were taken aback by Zeus’ compassion. Hades raised his brows, rather surprised that Zeus was being so kind and wondered what the catch was. There had to be some sort of downside to this.
The other gods, however, were silent. Only a few quiet gasps and murmurs could be heard from the crowd of gods that had gathered around the gates.
Hercules began to clap as Hera joined him. Demeter joined in as well and soon enough, the rest of the gods were all cheering and applauding for Hades and Persephone.
The couple grinned ecstatically and looked at each other before leaning in close to share a loving, celebratory kiss. Once they separated, Hades glanced to his side to see Zeus approaching them with a smile that quickly faded into a more serious expression.
“However, if you ever try to double-cross me or this family again…there will be consequences much more serious than banishment, is that understood…brother?”
Hades rolled his eyes (yet again) and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Sure. I’ll be on my best behavior. I’m humbled by your bountiful mercy. Yadda, yadda. Okay? Is that it or do I need to start groveling?” He replied sarcastically.
Zeus cocked his brow at his brother’s insincere thanks. He was definitely still the same old Hades in personality.
Persephone chuckled nervously, “It’s okay, Zeus. I’ll make sure he stays out of trouble…and thank you.” she said, sounding much more sincere than Hades.
Zeus nodded with a smile, then walked back up the steps to his wife and son as Demeter rushed down the stairs to meet Persephone.
“Persephone!” She called out as she took her daughter’s hands in hers.
Persephone started to get a bit nervous. She knew her mother was okay with her dating Hades, but marrying Hades was another thing entirely.
“Sweetpea…I’m not trying to talk you out of this, but are you sure this is what you want? Do you really want to marry Hades?” Demeter asked, wanting to be sure her daughter wasn’t trying to marry Hades out of pity.
Persephone nodded, “Yes…I love him…” she confidently declared as she looked over to Hades who was looking right back at her with an affectionate smirk, “…and I know he loves me too.”
Hades grinned as he approached Persephone and her mother, wrapping his arm around Persephone’s waist to pull her close to his side. “You bet I do, babe.”
“Well…if that’s the case, and he truly makes you happy…then you have my blessing.” Demeter kindly affirmed.
“Oh and, Hades…” She began, her warm smile quickly shifting into an angry frown as she aggressively grabbed the collar of his chiton to pull him down to eye level.
“If you EVER do anything to break my daughter’s heart again, so help me, I will — “
“Mother!” Persephone chided.
Demeter gave her daughter an apologetic smile as she let go of Hades and sighed.
“Just…take good care of my flower. That’s all I ask.” she calmly requested.
He looked to Persephone, smiling at her fondly once again.
“Don’t worry. I will.”
Hermes then flew up above the group of gods to address them, “Alright, cats! Let’s clear out and get some sleep! We got a big fat Greek wedding to plan in the morning!”
And with that, the gods dispersed, going back to their little palaces in the clouds as they quietly chattered about the big event that would take place tomorrow.
~X~X~X~X~
Night soon turned to morning as Apollo rode his chariot across the sky. The big day had finally arrived: Hades’ and Persephone’s wedding. There was excitement buzzing in the air as all the gods did their part to make Olympus look magnificent for the ceremony.
Meanwhile, Persephone stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom in her mother’s cloud palace as her sister, Despoina adjusted her wedding dress. She was as nervous as a bride could be on her wedding day. This was a very important day for both her and Hades and she wanted to make sure everything was perfect (apparently, old habits die hard).
“Are you sure this bouquet isn’t too much?” she nervously asked her sister as she looked down at her large bouquet, “I know flowers are kinda my thing, so they should be big and extravagant, but I don’t want them to be too extravagant, y’know? But I don’t want them to be too plain and boring either.”
Despoina shook her head and rolled her eyes as she tied the fabric on the back of Persephone’s dress. “Perse, seriously, it’s fine. Just chill out. You’ve got wedding jitters.” She reassured her with a small smile.
“I know. You’re right.” Persephone agreed before taking a deep breath.
She looked in the mirror for a moment, admiring the gorgeous white dress Aphrodite had made for her, then suddenly gasped as a brief thought crossed her mind. Despoina looked at her worriedly, wondering what catastrophe had happened for her to panic so abruptly.
“Oh, gods! I just remembered I never finished spring! What am I — “ Persephone fretted as her mother walked into the room with a veil.
“Calm down, blossom. I’ll take care of it. You just relax and focus on getting married.” Demeter said as she created a flower crown to attach to the veil and carefully placed it on top of Persephone’s head.
Persephone closed her eyes and took another deep breath once again.
“Right. Okay.”
Meanwhile, Hades was standing at the center of Olympus dressed in his best chiton and himation. These garbs looking much more formal and regal with a darker shade of black and dark blue compared to the ones he usually wore. He also had gold cuffs on each wrist to match the golden laurel wreath his wore on his head (secretly hoping it wouldn’t draw too much attention to pathetic little flame he had left up there).
He held his classic skull shaped clasp (also gold colored to stick with the gold theme had going) between his sharp teeth as he struggled to keep the fabric of his himation together on his shoulder, trying to make sure it looked nice and proper.
“Well, little brother,” Zeus said loudly as he suddenly came up behind Hades and gave him a strong pat on the back, causing him to stumble forward.
Hades’ eye widened in surprise as he turned his head towards Zeus and gave him a small, annoyed glare before rolling his eyes and shaking head. He then took to clasp out of his mouth as he turned his attention back to his himation.
“I never thought this day would come.” Zeus continued with a warm and hearty chuckle.
“What? The day I would come back to Olympus?” Hades asked casually, sounding a bit annoyed as he put on his clasp.
“Well, yes, and the day you would get married. It’s hard to believe my little brother has finally settled down!”
Hades rolled eyes once again as he continued fixing and adjusting his himation, trying to ignore his brother.
Poseidon then came up behind Zeus, holding his trident as he put a hand on his older brother’s shoulder.
“Haha! Yes, we’ve been taking bets for centuries on whether you’d actually tie the knot one day! I just can’t believe it’s with Persephone! I dunno how you managed to woo a goddess so out of your league, but by gods, ya did it! Good for you, brother!” Poseidon teased as he removed his hand from Zeus’ shoulder to playfully punch Hades in the arm a little too hard.
“Ow!” Hades winced as he rubbed his arm while giving his other brother the same annoyed glare.
“Haha! We thought you’d have to resort to kidnapping in order to find a bride!” Zeus laughed as Poseidon laughed along with him.
“Ha! Kidnapping! That’s a good one!” Poseidon wheezed.
Hades did his best to keep his temper as his brothers teased him. Last thing he wanted was to get kicked out again and ruin his own wedding.
“Oy. I knew there was downside to this.” He thought to himself as he turned to face his older brothers.
“Heheheh, yeah, yeah. That’s real great. Hilarious. I gotta go. Gotta talk to a guy about a cake.” Hades lied with a phony laugh as he walked away from the two who were still cracking up.
“Yeah, so funny I forgot to laugh. They keep it up I’m gonna turn this wedding into a funeral!” He said quietly to himself.
~X~X~X~X~
It wasn’t long before the ceremony was finally set up. Olympus looked absolutely astounding! The marble pillars (that were actually made of clouds) were adorned with spiral strands of bright leafy vines and light pink roses. There was a beautiful, lavish fountain that flowed with ambrosia (that the other gods had to keep Bacchus away from in fear of him swimming in it). A group of cherubs began to play a romantic melody on their instruments as dozens of gods and titans gathered around the altar where Hades and Hera stood.
On the outside, Hades looked pretty cool and collected, but on the inside, he was rattled with nerves, but in an excited sort of way. He’s been waiting for this moment since the day he truly fell for Persephone. He has never been more ready for anything in his entire immortal life. Persephone, the goddess of spring, his one and only love, was about to become his wife.
Oh, he loved the way that sounded.
Persephone, his wife.
No doubt he was going to take every chance he could get to refer to her his wife after that day.
Suddenly, a cherub flew up to Hera and quickly whispered something in her ear before flying off.
“We are ready to begin.” Hera announced as the guests who had been excitedly chattering amongst themselves got quiet.
The cherubs that had been playing music before silenced their instruments and everyone looked opposite of the altar.
The cherubs then started to play a slow, enchanting song…and there she was.
Persephone, holding her big, extravagant bouquet of blue forget-me-nots and bright yellow daffodils began to walk slowly down the aisle with a shy little smile. Her dress fit her so perfectly, she truly looked like a goddess.
Her hair was put up in an elegant low bun, wavy strands of hair framing her face beautifully while her lovely eyes glimmered even more than usual from her shimmery golden eye shadow. On her head sat a gorgeous flower crown made of small white flowers and roses with a dainty white veil attached in the back.
Hades was absolutely speechless.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was the most beautiful goddess that has ever walked the cosmos. She was glowing. She was ethereal. She was ravishing.
He simply couldn’t believe that this stunning goddess was about to become his wife for all eternity. He has never loved anyone else more than he loves her. That dazzling goddess walking down the aisle was his soulmate.
Persephone smiled a little more as soon as her eyes met Hades’. She saw his lovestruck gaze right away and it made her smile even more.
Hades nearly melted right there and then. He was so overcome with emotion for her; he did his best not to start tearing up. Not that he was too ashamed or embarrassed to cry in front of Persephone, but he knew if he shed even a single tear, his brothers would never let him live it down, so Hades kept it together.
However, Persephone was already starting to tear up, trying to steady her breathing in order to keep herself from breaking down.
When she finally reached the altar, Hades took her hand in his, gently rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb as he looked at her with an adoring smile. Persephone took a silent deep breath and gave him an equally adoring smile.
The song then came to an end and Hera began to speak,
“We are gathered here today on Mount Olympus, home of the gods, to celebrate this momentous occasion and bear witness to the divine matrimony of Persephone, the Goddess of Spring and Hades, the God of the Underworld. May these deities always be blessed with peace and joy, and may their love be eternal.”
The couple then turned to fully face each other, Hades still keeping hold of Persephone’s hand as they prepared to make their vows, their eyes staying completely locked on one another.
“Hades, do you take Persephone to be your wedded wife, to love and protect, to cherish and respect, to honor and trust for all of eternity?”
Hades looked deeply into Persephone’s eyes as he uttered those two beautiful words,
“I do.”
Persephone’s lips quivered a bit through her smile as tears began to well up in her eyes again, trying so desperately not to start sobbing. She closed her for a moment and took a short breath to calm down as she felt Hades give her hand a gentle squeeze.
“Persephone, do you take Hades to be your wedded husband to love and protect, to cherish and respect, to honor and trust for all of eternity?”
Without any hesitation, Persephone proudly and lovingly declared with all her heart,
“I do.”
“Then as Queen of the Gods and Goddess of Marriage, I — Hera, pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss th— “
Hades and Persephone could hardly even wait for Hera to finish speaking as they threw themselves into each others’ arms and shared a passionate kiss, the other gods and titans ceremoniously clapping and cheering for them all the while.
Hera blinked in surprise for a moment, then smiled as she chuckled softly and clapped along with the crowd of guests.
Suddenly, Hades felt a surge of powerful energy rush through him, like a wave of heat flowing throughout his entire body. He reluctantly broke the kiss as he stepped back and looked at his hands that were starting to feel very hot.
Persephone watched him curiously with a bit of concern, wondering if he was okay. His form began to glow an essence of light blue as his hair that was almost as short and small as the flame of a candle stick, abruptly burst into a fiery, blue blaze.
No longer did he feel weak and weary; quite the contrary, actually. Now he felt as strong and energized as ever, like he could take on the cosmos.
Some of the guests gasped and watched in awe as Hades beamed and flared up, practically engulfed in bright blue flames. He pumped his fists in the air and did a little happy dance.
“BOOM! BADA BOOM! YEAH, BABY! HADES IS BACK IN BUSINESS!”
Persephone grinned from ear to ear, extremely overjoyed that her husband finally got his powers back. Hades then looked over to his wife with a suave smirk.
“C’mere, you.”
He grabbed her waist and pulled her close to him, practically sweeping her off her feet as he dipped her. Persephone gasped in surprise and giggled as Hades once again gazed into her sparkling, eyes.
The pair leaned in close as their lips met again for another kiss, Persephone placing her hand on his cheek to caress his face as Hades held her in his arms.
As the couple separated once more, they looked out into the crowd of guests. Demeter and Despoina clapped and smiled as Demeter wiped her tears of joys away from her face.
Next to them stood none other than Rhea, sobbing happily as she blew her nose into a handkerchief. “That’s my, baby boy!” she wept proudly.
Hades chuckled and waved to his mother in the crowd as he gently pulled Persephone closer to his side. He then glanced over to her and gave her playful smirk before picking her up bridal style and carrying her away from the altar through the Olympus gates, down the stairs, and over to their chariot that was waiting for them as the crowd of guests followed them, still cheering and clapping to see them off to their honeymoon.
Hades stepped into the chariot as he carefully put Persephone back down. The goddess then looked at the beautiful bouquet she still held in her other hand and tossed it into the crowd of cheering guests. A group of single goddesses began darting towards the flowers, only to be intercepted by Thallo (who Persephone kindly invited to the wedding), who had leaped in front of them all to catch the bouquet in her mouth.
The unicorn then trotted up to Pegasus and nuzzled her head close to his as she fluttered eyelashes. Pegasus let out a bashful whinny/chirp and flapped his wings as Hercules and Meg (who had also been kindly invited to the wedding by Persephone) stood by him and laughed.
Persephone giggled and looked at Hades who pulled her to his side once again before taking the reigns with his other hands.
He then looked back at the guests and gave them a playful little salute and a wink as Persephone looked back with him as waved to everyone before taking off into the sunny afternoon sky.
Pain and Panic (who were also allowed to attend the wedding despite the “no minions on Olympus” rule) watched as the happy couple flew off into the distance. Pain waved as Panic cried and obnoxiously blew his nose into a handkerchief.
“Don’t ya just love happy endings?” Panic asked his friend as he sniffled.
So, you’re probably wonder what’s next for the lovely couple? Who knows? However, their story certainly isn’t over.
One thing is for certain, though, you don’t need the Fates’ eye to see that they both lived happy ever after.
~X~X~X~X~
Meanwhile, in Tartarus…
“ARRGH! I WAS SO CLOSE! I had the key right there in my hand!” Hecate shrieked before raising a big heavy hammer with a grunt and slamming it down atop a large rock, watching it crumble to bits.
“Ugh, well, you can’t blame us, Hecate.” Canis said as he walked past Hecate carrying very heavy bits of rock on his back in a leather pack.
“Yeah, I mean, it’s not our fault you’re a total clutz.” Lupus added as he straggled behind Canis, his pack looking much heavier and overfilled compared to the other empusa.
“OH, SHUT UP, YOU IDIOTS!” yelled Hecate.
“Hey, hey, hey! What with all the yapping over here?!” A random imp asked as he walked up to the three while holding a clipboard in his hand.
“Less talking and more smashing! We got another load coming in!” He said as he pointed upwards, an avalanche of large rocks suddenly tumbling down in front of Hecate.
Hecate growled as she raised her hammer to smash another rock as Canis and Lupus walked off to deposit the bits of rock in their heavy packs.
“Someday I’m gonna get my revenge on that stupid, lovesick son of a — “ Hecate grumbled to herself.
“Hey! I told you to can it over there! This is the land of eternal punishment! Not the land of group therapy! Now, shut up and get to work!” The managing imp yelled from the distance.
Hecate huffed and grumbled an insult under her breath before rolling her eyes and smashing another rock.
29 notes · View notes
seriouslycalamitous · 18 days ago
Note
hi! I was reading foolhearted again (your oneshots are always soooo good for quick rereads) and I found myself wondering, at what point in the story did grian realise his feelings were reciprocated? do you have any thoughts you could share on how things looked from his side of things? <3
OHOHO ABSOLUTELY I CAN TALK ABOUT GRIAN’S POV IN FOOLHEARTED!! Be prepared for down-bad PART 2!!!!
So, Grian didn’t know his crush was reciprocated in the same way Scar didn’t know. Both of them basically already lived like they were married, though, and lines blurred together, and he was content to let it just be that way. Didn’t mean he never thought about taking it a step further, but it wasn’t necessary for him to have happiness with Scar.
BUT when SCAR decided to cross the unspoken line and “genuinely” offer a way to bridge that gap, Grian realized exactly how badly he wanted it. Enough to throw away everything right there and then, and he probably would’ve gone in for the kiss if Scar had not pulled away, laughing nervously and muttering about a prank.
He realized it was a joke, or it was initially a joke, and all of his elation turned into pure rage. He was perfectly content for so long and then Scar had to come in and ruin even that! But then, he realized that Scar was still stammering, blushing, being the first one to pull away and relent.
He thought back to the moment when they were so close together, how realistic it had felt. There was the slightest inkling in the back of Grian’s mind that maybe Scar WASN’T pretending. Maybe Scar was just acting like he was to disguise something terrifying about their situation. Grian knew the terror of being in love with someone perceived to be out of reach, recognized it better than anything, and he saw it reflected in Scar’s gaze when they made eye contact again.
It was when his demeanor changed, and he got the idea of returning the favor that it clicked mostly or all of the way for Grian. Scar was going to be kissed silly the next day the very second they were alone together - after grian had his fun with the flirting first of course. Scar just looked so pretty when he was tripping over himself to try and appear calm.
Didn’t matter if it was in the theater or in his office or in some empty classroom. The moment Grian saw a chance the night prior, he planned to grab Scar by the collar of his shirt and kiss him until all the misunderstandings in the world disappeared.
Anyway! Hopefully that answers your question and gives you a lil taste of how Grian felt during that whole ordeal!! I’m so happy you enjoyed my fic!!
46 notes · View notes