#all walks of life you could never know what they’re dealing with

[tonycries]

Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?”  

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh. 

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?” 

Shit. 

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click! 

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah. 

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl. 

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo

[joshsindigostreak]

Moonburn

Prologue

Two of Swords, Reversed: Delays, indecisiveness, extreme dread, anxiety, and stress.

Vampire Hunter!Jake x Witch!OC

Authors Note: Hello!!! This is the start of Jake’s story! I hope y’all like it as much as I do. His side of the story has been in my mind the whole time I’ve been writing ISHIYE and I’ve been itching to share it with you. This is only the prologue but I promise there’s much more to come! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist ❤️

*Set prior to the events of I See Hell in Your Eyes. This is the beginning of Jake’s story. This can be read independently from ISHIYE but there will be cross references as it’s in the same universe.

Word Count: 3,845

Warnings: Brief violence, descriptions of blood, that’s about it for now.

He wasn’t even supposed to be in Tucson, but a blown motor had him stuck there for God-knows how long. The shop he towed his car to didn’t give him much of a time frame, just that they would call him whenever it was fixed. In the meantime, Jake Kiszka had settled in a cheap motel. Well, not extremely cheap, but it was comfortable enough that he knew wouldn’t get scabies from sleeping there. 

Nevertheless, he took this as an opportunity to take in the sights of the Grand Canyon state, at the very least Pima county. The sights in question were any local Nests that he could find and snuff out any Undead that were loitering around places they shouldn’t. 

The last three days (or nights depending on what species you were), he had been tracking a small group of them that were dumb enough to hang around the same places in the city. Vamps were always easy to spot. Their attempts to blend in with humans were awkward and stilted. Like aliens who had landed on earth the day before and had never seen a human before. That was also how you knew you were dealing with one of the young, and dumb, ones. The older the Vamp was the easier it was for them to blend in. If they’re smart enough to survive past fifty years or so, they usually start adapting to whatever environment they’re in. 

It was one of those Vampire details that confused Jake as a kid. How did they forget their humanity so fast? You’re human one day and the next night you’re a blood sucking monster, his dad would tell him. But the idea that it only took a few hours to forget whatever life you had before was almost fascinating to him. 

He was always taught that the new ones were practically feral and sloppy, which was how they got picked off so easily. They’d leave bodies behind, risking exposure to the humans who walked around in pure ignorance to the creatures that walked among them. 

Sometimes, if you were lucky, you’d catch them before they even claimed their victims. Skulking around in the dark trying to remain unseen but all of their movements looked the same, at least to Jake, which was why he was always able to figure them out faster than his siblings. He was the quiet observant one, always having his eyes on a swivel. His twin was the social one. He could talk his way into any place or establishment that he wasn’t supposed to be in, and he had a particular knack for being able to build a rapport with some of the Vamps they’d be tracking. 

It worked even better when they were in parts of the country where the only thing anyone knew of them was their last name, and the weight it carried. Knowing their name was one thing, but knowing their faces was another, and they used that to their advantage. It was also well known that they were identical, but over the years their personal aesthetics had skewed so hard in the opposite directions that they’d have to be side by side to truly see it. Though sometimes the confusion as to who was who worked in their favor. 

Jake turned his attention to the horizon from inside the car. Due to a low inventory from a week full of fender benders the rental place only had a Toyota Corolla available on the lot. A  silver Corolla from 2006, to be exact. Jake had stared at it for nearly five minutes behind his dark sunglasses, as if he could turn it into literally anything else with his mind. But when the rental agent informed him of the only other option, a burgundy minivan, the hunter agreed and signed the papers for the car through gritted teeth. 

There he was, ridding the earth of Hell-borne filth in a clunker with hubcaps. 

The sun was peeking over the horizon; the sky turning different shades of pink, yellow. and blue. Jake had a strict rule to not move in on a target until the sun was fully up and visible. “Your shadow is your friend, and your clock no matter what,” his dad would tell him. A hunter never wanted to risk a Vamp having the home field advantage that was the night. Even overcast days were iffy at times. 

Once a Vampire laid their head down they, as obvious and cliched it sounded, slept like the dead they were. It was some biological failsafe to protect their species from accidental sunlight exposure. Or at least that's what his walking-encyclopedia of a little brother reminded him along with other scientific facts about the species. 

He was parked on the side of the road a blocks-length away from the house he was watching. Vamps were known for their practicality when it came to their Nests. They liked invading houses and squatting in them after they made the residents their evening meal. This particular house was by its lonesome on this road, the nearest house was almost two miles away, which Jake didn’t mind because his plan for the four Vampires he had tracked to this location would be fucking cake.

At last, the sun shined its beautiful rays, warming up the world and preparing it for the day. Jake could almost hear the joke his twin would’ve made about it being a “dry heat” had he been there. His right hand reached to the passenger seat for his crossbow, lifting it slowly with reverence.  He kept his gaze fixed on the house as he carefully opened the driver’s side door.  He didn’t shut it all the way, just enough to make that first little click in the frame.  

As he approached the house he looked at all the windows to see which ones were covered up, a clue as to where in the house they were sleeping. He walked the perimeter a couple of times, going slow to make sure he didn’t miss anything and to let the sun rise even higher. 

Rounding the back of the house, Jake went up to the back door. He reached out and gently twisted the doorknob, and it fully turned without protest. 

They really were stupid, he thought to himself. 

The revelation that the door was unlocked let him know that they were also over confident that they’d be safe during the day time. Jake couldn’t wait to prove them wrong. 

He walked into what was the kitchen, before it had been ransacked by the real intruders sleeping elsewhere. Multiple cabinets were flung open, their contents strewn everywhere on counters and the floors. Smears of blood decorated the surfaces and the floors, streaked with what had to be fingerprints. 

Going from room to room, he saw similar scenes around the house. He still hadn’t located what he was there for but there was one bedroom at the far end of the house left. The door was slightly ajar, and from his spot in the hallway he could see a window with the curtains firmly drawn. Bingo. They were all in there, soundly asleep. A classic, “shooting fish in a barrel” situation. 

Carefully he opened the door further and peaked around the room. This had obviously been the primary bedroom, with a sizable king size bed against the far wall, with two Vamps sprawled out on the duvet, with a third curled up on the carpet at the foot of the bed. 

The hunter silently aimed the crossbow at the one on the floor, directly at its chest. At this point it was muscle memory, his finger squeezed around the trigger automatically, shooting the stake right into the Vampire’s heart. His eyes flew open in surprise, but it was too late, the color drained from his skin and it shrunk back against his bones. The usual yellow cast bled into his eyes, and as a final signal that all too familiar death rattle bubbled up from his mouth, a little too loudly for Jake. 

At the sound the female Vamp on the bed sat straight up, looking directly at Jake. 

“You bastard,” she hissed as she slapped the male Vamp next to her awake. She lunged at Jake knocking the crossbow out of his hands as he tried to shove her off of him. The two rolled around on the floor, battling for control. The hunter managed to get on top of her, straddling her waist as he quickly grabbed a stake from inside his jacket with one hand, and used the other to try to control her hands and keep her pinned down. His reflexes worked perfectly and he was able to shove her arms out of the way fast enough to drive the stake into her chest in a flash. Like the other Vamp before her, she withered in front of his eyes. 

Just as her death rattle completed the process the other male Vamp jumped on Jake’s back, straining his neck to nip at Jake’s flesh with his fangs. The hunter nearly growled as he twisted his body to fling the Vamp off of him. He didn’t go very far, but it was enough for Jake to get on his feet and grab another stake from his jacket. The Vamp stood up and lunged at Jake again, this time shoving him against the nearest wall. Jake winced as he was forced backwards and felt the drywall crack; the breath nearly knocked out of him. The stake was pinned between the two, curled in his fist and pointed down at the floor in a useless position. 

Jake looked over the feral Vamps shoulder, and realized he was close enough to the corner of the room that he could potentially gain control. With another growl, he used all of his strength to push him away and into the other wall. The Vamp's head bounced back against the wall, and in the nanosecond of delirium Jake was able to tilt his other hand up and ram the stake into the remaining Vamp, directly next to his sternum. 

The Vamp sagged against the wall as whatever “life” he had faded away. Jake let him go completely and didn’t care where he landed on the floor. He stepped back and didn’t let his guard down until he was sure they were the only creatures in the house. He ran a hand through his messy hair, wincing when his fingers hit a few tangles and pulled at his scalp. Instead of fighting through them to the ends of his hair, he pulled it back, wanting the feeling to stop instantly. A brief flashback of dirty gnarled fingers twisting into his hair and yanking upwards flashed before his mind’s eye and he shook his head to rid himself of the memory and rubbed his hands quickly over his face. 

Jake turned back to his crossbow and strapped it on his back. Now the fun part was about to begin. He looked down at the nearest corpse, the one he had just killed against the wall, and grabbed him by the ankles and started dragging him through the room. He flung the back door open once he got to it, and heaved the Vamp outside and into the sun. The corpse started to sizzle and burn before it hit the dirt. One down, two the go. 

He repeated the process until all three were piled on top of each other outside, burning through their clothes and turning their bodies to ashes. As Jake watched the flames, he reached into his jacket again, this time for the celebratory cigar he always brought with him on Nest raids. He brought it to his lips and leaned forward, lighting it using the flames of his latest bounty. 

He stood there, and the fire reflected off his dark sunglasses. He took long and slow drags of the cigar, satisfied with his work that morning. For a brief moment he wished his twin had been with him. He didn’t mind doing things on his own, but it always felt a little sweeter to have Josh standing next to him. 

Soon enough the three Vampire’s were nothing more than a pile of ashes. Jake found a shovel in the yard, and used it to dig a shallow pit to dump the ashes into. It wasn’t to “bury” them, no, there was no honor in this. Instead it was just a quicker way to quite literally cover up his tracks. 

As he drove back to the motel, he couldn’t wait to sleep the day away, satisfied that there were three less bloodsuckers walking around. 

~!~

A few days later, he found himself in front of a dive bar just outside of town. The Tipsy Tumbleweed stood before him, its red lighted sign blazed into the dark of the parking lot. A few of the letters blinked, indicating some of the bulbs were on their last legs. 

The heels of his boots clacked against the wooden floor inside, and the idle chatter amongst other patrons met his ears. He loved a good bar like this. Understated, knew exactly what it was, and didn’t try to be anything more. The walls were covered in various purple neon signs, the biggest one was on the wall behind the bar itself, with large letters spelling out: Sinners Welcome. Yeah, he was going to enjoy himself tonight. 

Just as he sat on an empty barstool, a loud and melodious laugh floated through the air behind him. He nearly broke his neck to look at the source, and that was when he saw…her. 

Her back was to him, her dark jeans and black t-shirt wrapped around her curves beautifully, her dark hair tied up in a ponytail but was long enough that the ends fell between her shoulder blades. She was standing in front of one of the booths against the far wall, chatting with the two people who sat on either side. 

He couldn’t see her face yet, and everything in his body told him to sit fucking still so he could possibly get a glimpse of it. He barely registered the young voice of the bartender asking him for his order. He kept his eyes set on the mysterious woman while he quickly mumbled something about a whiskey. He wasn’t normally that rude but as the bartender went off to make his drink she finally turned around and started walking towards him. Her large hazel eyes scanned the room as she walked and she waved at one of the tables, telling who-ever-the-fuck hi. The same dark hair framed her face in some loose layers and when she flashed a smile at someone else, Jake nearly fell off the stool. He suddenly felt like he was back in sixth grade, when Abbie Willis picked him for her kickball team in P.E. and he tripped over absolutely nothing while walking over to her. Josh never let him live that down. 

For a moment, Jake thought she was walking towards him, but she breezed right past him to exit through the Employees Only door. He turned on the stool to face the bar, hoping to god that the heat in his face wasn’t obvious. Instead, he made the most awkward eye contact with the bartender who was placing his drink in front of him. She was a tiny thing, definitely shorter than him with sharp cheekbones and curious round eyes. She couldn’t have been older than 21. 

“Umm…thanks,” he said, trying his best to recover from whatever that was. 

“You're welcome, I’m Stacey if you need anything else,” she said brightly before turning to walk to the far end of the bar, where another man was sitting at the corner. 

Jake’s eyes followed her and silently observed that side of the bar, taking in everything. Part of him wanted to turn around and watch that Employee door in hopes that she would come back out, but he didn’t want a repeat of what just happened.

He took a sip of his drink while he observed, but just as he started to relax the man at the end of the bar tilted his lowball glass back to take his own sip, and one of the lights on the other side shined through the glass and displayed the…red…contents. It wasn’t runny, it wasn’t grenadine, it was blood. 

Did he sneak that in here? Jake had obviously seen Vampire’s drink from glasses before, they could be formal when they wanted to, but out in the open like this? That was ballsy as hell. 

A drop escaped the glass and landed on the corner of the man’s, well, Vampire’s mouth and his tongue darted out to catch it. The bartender Jake now knew as Stacey was just standing there, chatting away as if she hadn’t even seen it. The hunter immediately thought that the Vampire had Persuaded this young girl into not noticing, and if he was already doing that, what else was he planning to do? 

Jake immediately shifted into hunter-mode, his casual evening cut short by duty calling. He sat there, listening as best he could over the loud music and crowd noise. Soon his glass was empty, and as Stacey walked back by he got her attention and she stopped in front of him. 

He ordered another whiskey, but before she could hop off to make it he asked her a question, “hey umm…who's that down there?” He tilted his head slightly in the Vampire’s direction. 

A sheepish smile spread across her face, “oh…that’s Lou. He’s in here a lot.” Even in the dim lighting Jake could see the color rush to her cheeks when she said Lou’s name. 

A regular Vampire, huh, not for much longer, Jake thought. 

He opened his mouth to ask another question but Stacey’s eyes suddenly went wide and she darted off to the Employee door without another word. He vaguely heard her say the name, “Cecilia” as she exited but he wasn’t sure.  

Jake sat there confused as to what spooked her so quickly, and he stole another glance at “Lou” the Vampire. 

“So, another whiskey for you?” A smoky voice snapped him out of his thoughts. 

Jake whipped his head back to the direction of the voice and suddenly, she was in front of him. He gaped at her, once again reverting back to his awkward prepubescent self. All he could do was nod like an idiot. A new glass was placed in front of him, the amber liquid perfectly poured. 

“This one’s on the house,” she said as she leaned against her hands on the edge of the bar. The motion made her collar bones visible just beneath the scooped-neck of her t-shirt. Fuck. 

“O-oh you don’t have to-”

“Nonsense, I like giving out a  free drink once and awhile, especially to new faces. I even top shelved it for you,” her lips formed a smile and she tilted her head at him, as if she already knew the effect she had on him. 

He took a sip, savoring the liquor on his tongue before swallowing. Perfectly smooth. 

“Now, what are you doing here,” she asked, a little less friendly than before. 

The question threw him off, why would she ask that? 

“Just checking out local places while I’m in town,” he answered with a level tone as he took another swig of his drink. 

“Hmm…yeah but what were you doing just a couple minutes ago?” 

He looked at her strangely, “just sitting here?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt his throat tighten up out of nowhere. What the fuck?  

“Uh-huh, just sitting here? Not scoping out the place?” 

“No? Why would I-,” his throat tightened up even more, making it harder to breathe. Jake struggled to take in a breath as he gripped the glass in front of him. 

“You do know where you’re sitting, right?” She leaned even closer to him, lowering her voice. 

“At a bar…?” That was the truth, partially, but he didn’t know where she was going with this. 

She smirked at him, “oh I guess you didn’t notice that this bar happens to be next to a cemetery?” 

Cemeteries were probably one of the few truly neutral places you could be. Neutral in the sense that creatures knew better than to start trouble in them, and hunters were lumped into that protocol as well. They were their own liminal space with their own rules, and Jake remembered Sam rambling about the spirits that reside in them did not take kindly to truces being broken on their land. If Jake had actually killed the Vampire at the end of the bar, it would not be pretty for him once the spirits figured out what happened. If the woman in front of him knew this rule, then what was she?

“Fuck,” he rasped. 

“Yeah, fuck is right. So what is a hunter like you coming into my bar where we mind our own business and coexist as best we can?” Irritation was evident in her voice. 

This was her bar? Oh, he really fucked up. 

“Listen I wasn’t trying to start anything,” he tried to explain but his words had his throat nearly closed completely. 

“Sure you weren’t,” she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a small vial full of pale green liquid. She held it up in front of him, “sir you look very…purple…are you feeling alright?” 

He stared at the vile in her hand, and he wasn’t sure if he was connecting the dots or just seeing them, but he tried to whisper a guess. 

“W-witch..?” 

“Oh nothing gets past you,” she mocked. “And yes, I am, thank you for asking.” 

At this point all he could do was wheeze at her. 

“Now, I can reverse that little concoction you happily drank, but only on one condition.” 

His big brown eyes started watering and he nodded.

She twisted off the cap of the vial and slowly poured the contents into Jake’s glass as she spoke, “you have two minutes to get out of my bar before I get that Werewolf in the corner to throw you out.” 

Jake quickly drank down the whole glass as best he could, oxygen finally entering his system as his throat loosened back up. 

“S-sorry…” he whispered. 

“If you ever come back here and try that shit again, it’ll be a lot worse. Now go,” her voice was final, and she flicked her eyes over his shoulder and at the door. 

Jake didn’t hesitate to slide off the barstool and walk right out, not looking back even though he wanted to. 

As he drove back to the motel, all he could think about was the Witch that just nearly killed him, and how her eyes bore into his, and for once in his life, Jake Kiszka was the one intimidated and outmatched. 

To be continued…

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden  , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne, @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @sadiechar , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky , @bladenotblaze , @gretavanlace ,

#jake kiszka #jake kiszka x oc #moonburn #strangers to lovers #starcrossed but they don't know it #angst #hurt/comfort #themes of PTSD #lingering guilt #parental issues #abandonment issues #and just two broken people trying to figure the fuck out of life #greta van fleet #jake gvf #my fics #my writing #🌙🔥

[enrapture]

stay alive.

#the happiest people can be going through shit #the saddest people #the meanest of people #all walks of life you could never know what they’re dealing with #life is so hard so fucking difficult #I didn’t think I would be here #so many years before this one I didn’t think I would be alive at all #honestly? I didn’t think I’d live to see today a few days ago even just the other day I felt it #it’s really hard to stay tonight even with a good thing like meeting my favorite band right now on the 31st #internally I won’t share these feelings and thoughts allowed y’all don’t care about that or even wanna hear what I feel and what I think #but yeah #I just wanna share this because I’m struggling with it sand sometimes it’s a good and bad thing to keep finding reasons to stay #but you should stay because you want to be here to experience life with others and to help others #that life wouldn’t be life without you and you would want to see your near future self happy among your childhood past near past selves #evolve and be happy you’re staying and relive your childhood and grow as a person #you’re meant to be here if no one else tells you that #means a lot being heard and understood #staying is just a. little difficult rn #I never thought I’d make it this far and I don’t like the act of growing and I don’t like how life is a lot of the time #but that’s a story for another time if desired and shared #I’m gonna hop off now #bye #internally I won’t share these thoughts #these feelings aloud because y’all don’t care y’all don’t wanna hear about the dark parts that stay and stick in my head or pass through #but I just wanted to share it for those that needed a sign to stay #to stay because I too am one of those that could use it #spread love #be there for those that struggle #life is so fucking hard #take it one day at a time

[hoseoksluna]

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for. 

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift. 

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too. 

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed. 

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight. 

You couldn’t. 

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair. 

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words. 

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely. 

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis. 

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed. 

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.” 

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it. 

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.” 

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable. 

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?” 

You exhaled, he inhaled. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek. 

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in. 

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.” 

Your body panics, but you will it to relax. 

“Does that come with the premium subscription?” 

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps. 

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms. 

“I get to take Bam?” 

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?” 

Probably not. Definitely not. 

“But what about Bam?” 

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words. 

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.” 

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell. 

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it. 

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.” 

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly. 

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows. 

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead. 

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it. 

Jungkook groans. 

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity. 

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back. 

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body. 

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers. 

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline. 

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it. 

You want him. 

It began with a ring and ended right here. 

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled. 

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss. 

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t. 

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago. 

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you. 

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper. 

Jungkook grips your waist hard. 

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy. 

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples. 

“Kiss me, then.” 

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth. 

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step. 

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.” 

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles. 

“Bam, house.” 

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that. 

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” 

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him. 

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists. 

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.” 

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?” 

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them. 

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list. 

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course. 

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.” 

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.” 

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting. 

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?” 

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact. 

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?” 

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties. 

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.” 

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.” 

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.” 

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself. 

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him. 

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears. 

No attachment, no liking. 

Just sex. 

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm. 

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.” 

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted. 

You broke him. 

And now you have to face the repercussions. 

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal. 

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all. 

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.” 

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have. 

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it. 

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break. 

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in. 

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm. 

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is. 

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid. 

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening. 

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning. 

A lump forms in your throat. 

“You sure about this?” he asks. 

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship. 

Flowery or deceitful? 

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” 

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you. 

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps. 

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.” 

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.” 

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened. 

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum. 

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him. 

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun. 

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin. 

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing. 

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself. 

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long. 

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?” 

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice. 

“Of course I trust you.” 

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.” 

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline. 

“Are you scared?” 

You’re an empty canvas. 

“Not anymore.” 

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?” 

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.” 

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt. 

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set. 

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy. 

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks. 

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.” 

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie. 

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?” 

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?” 

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod. 

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child. 

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs. 

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red. 

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them. 

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach. 

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?” 

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.” 

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?” 

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy. 

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features. 

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good. 

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.” 

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens. 

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs. 

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you. 

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 

Jungkook sees you. 

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax. 

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips. 

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you. 

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.” 

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.  

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you. 

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around. 

“Feels good, baby?” 

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.” 

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.” 

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring. 

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?” 

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted. 

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff. 

“Did so well for me.” 

The whisper takes you back and you awake. 

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good. 

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.   

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?” 

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change. 

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.” 

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth. 

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy. 

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks. 

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration. 

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.” 

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is. 

Musk, vanilla, wood. 

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout. 

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew. 

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.” 

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?” 

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out. 

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos. 

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts. 

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully. 

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?” 

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.” 

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number. 

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?” 

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.” 

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare. 

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him. 

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?” 

You nod. “So bad.” 

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough. 

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?” 

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.” 

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?” 

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.” 

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance. 

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth. 

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him. 

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again. 

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go. 

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge. 

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore. 

Neither, evidently, can he. 

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands. 

So vulnerable. 

You ache. 

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head. 

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth. 

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets. 

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny. 

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head. 

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.” 

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan. 

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind. 

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin. 

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?” 

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it. 

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans. 

“Talk to me.” 

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk. 

He stares you down. 

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling. 

“I won’t play with you, then.” 

Panic. “No.” 

He cocks a brow at you. “No?” 

Silence. 

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm. 

“Jungkook.” 

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs. 

“Beg.” 

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you. 

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten. 

“Please.” 

“Please what?” 

You groan in frustration. 

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.” 

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it. 

“Where?” 

A challenge. Your throat dries up. 

“There.” 

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that. 

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.” 

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that. 

“Lick my clit, please.” 

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.  

“Like this?” 

You choke out a moan. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?” 

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy. 

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.” 

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you. 

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens. 

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you. 

Daddy and little girl. 

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls. 

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror. 

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat. 

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.” 

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell. 

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?” 

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin. 

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed. 

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens. 

“But what if it doesn’t fit?” 

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake. 

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.” 

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected. 

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him. 

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow. 

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head. 

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him. 

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.” 

You nod, trusting him. 

He pecks you. Smiles. 

“How many orgasms are we at?” 

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” 

“You obliterated my expectations.” 

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.” 

You blush, eyes twinkling. 

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.” 

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad. 

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness. 

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss. 

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel. 

“I don’t stop coming.” 

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?” 

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?” 

You scoff. “Just one.” 

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?” 

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently. 

He didn’t break his promise. 

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides. 

And there you feel it. 

The sensation unlike any other. 

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?” 

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms. 

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.” 

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come. 

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you. 

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?” 

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep. 

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much. 

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.” 

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam. 

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.” 

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.” 

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak. 

“Please, come for me.” 

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?” 

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.” 

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat. 

Jungkook grunts. 

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.” 

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length. 

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all. 

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way. 

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all. 

“Good girl. Good little princess.” 

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?” 

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes. 

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny Punches a Clown part 2 I guess

shoutout to @that-random-fangirl

Masterpost

The batmobile pulls into the batcave as usual once they’re done dealing with the Joker’s hostage situation, but no one is celebrating at a job well done tonight. Because while the Joker is back in Arkham, for now, it wasn’t one of them that stopped him. While the rest of them dealt with the goons downstairs, Batman went up to where the Joker was supposed to be hiding out with the kids, only to find him on the floor with a growing bruise on his face. The kids were nowhere to be seen. 

So, Batman sweeped the room, making note of a video that was still recording on the computer. Probably a taunt for him that the Joker never got to release. He pulled all the files from the computer and brought them with him when he left. 

The police arrived, the civilians were taken care of, but none of them had any idea what happened in the room the Joker was in. Apparently none of them heard anything, despite the fact the Joker had a gun with him no shots were fired. And none of them knew what happened to the kids. 

So the family gathered around the batcomputer to try and find out what had happened. They rewound the video back to the beginning, hoping to at least find out if the kids were okay.

The video opened to the Joker being his usual self, holding his gun, looking like he hadn’t yet gotten punched in the face.

“ Bats! Wonderful to see me isn’t it? I know it's been too long, and I’ve got some presents for you!” Joker turns the camera to show three kids, two no older than six, both blonde and terrified, and one that could be a teenager, probably around twelve to thirteen with black hair and looking bored. The camera swings back to the Joker after a moment. “ Of course, I have a bunch of adults too, but these little kiddos are just for you! I have such plans for them bats!” 

“Hey, crazy clown?” They hear, coming from one of the children. Joker stops ranting to look past the computer, probably at the kid who’s speaking and the bats all look at each other in disbelief.“ Look, I’m sure you have some sort of reason for all this hostage-taking and gun-waving, probably even for dressing like that.” 

“ Oh, this kid is insane.” Tim mutters.

“ However, I already have one fruitloop in my life and that is more than enough for me, so I’m going to have to leave now.”

The Joker starts laughing, he bends over and wraps his arms around his stomach laughing his normal cackle that has most of the room cringing. They watch as the child, the older one, walks right up to the Joker, who is still laughing, and punches him in the face.

They watch in silence as the Joker falls limp to the floor. Jason whistles. Then the boy turns more toward the camera, but really towards the children as he starts talking to them and they see him fully for the first time. Black hair, blue eyes, looks exhausted and he just punched the Joker in the face. The kids look amongst each other for a moment, all thinking the same thing, before turning back to the screen to see the boy, this tiny boy who called the Joker ‘crazy clown’ and punched him in the face helping the other kids escape out the window. 

“ Bruce, no.” Dick mutters. “ We don’t even know who this kid is.”

“ This kid just knocked out the Joker in one punch, if Bruce doesn’t nab him, I will.” Jason states.

Everything devolves into arguing from there, all the kids shouting amongst themselves arguing either for or against the adoption of the kid. It goes on for a while before Bruce speaks up.

“ Let’s just find the kid first.” Bruce says, He’s already pulled up facial recognition and is chatting with Oracle about the CCTV footage by the warehouse. “ All of you go get some rest, I’m going to go see if I can track him.”

“ Hey! If you’re going back out, we’re going back out!” Dick complains. “ We’re concerned about the kid too.” 

Bruce starts to argue with him, but is cut off by the sound of motorcycles as Jason and Tim start to head back out, already talking to Oracle about where to start. Dick heads out after them and Damian goes to sit in the batmobile, waiting. Bruce heaves a sigh before climbing in after him.

“ Okay, Oracle what do we have?” Batman asks.

“ I was able to track him into an alley, but nothing after that.”

Now with part 3!

#dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #batman #danny phantom #my writing #I have no idea where this is going really #it has no ending #just middle ideas #dp x dc

[yaksha-lover]

Summary: After the events of ghost bride, Vil and Leona decide to continue their competition to determine who is the best suitor. They decide you, being new to the school, are the best option to try and romance.

Multi x GN Reader (Leona, Vil, Ace, Deuce, Floyd, Rook, Azul, Malleus)

Part 2

“Yeah, whatever, you failed too. Doesn’t mean a thing. Any sane person would’ve chosen me over you,” Leona snarks.

“Prove it, then. Let’s choose someone else and we’ll be able to determine who the real winner is,” Vil replies, not bothering to look up from the compact he’s using to apply his makeup.

Leona’s ears perk a little at the idea, but he turns his nose up at it anyway. “Like who? Everyone at this school’s already stepping over each other to get a picture with you. Not exactly a fair competition, blondie.”

“Our dear prefect hasn’t been at the school long, and they’ve never known me as a celebrity since they’re from another world. It seems they would be the fairest way to continue our little competition,” Vil pauses, looking back over at Leona. “If that’s okay with you, your majesty.”

Leona rolls his eyes. “Old bride clearly had no taste. At least the prefect won’t have all these delusional biases about their ‘prince,’” he grumbles. “Fine, they’ll do.”

“Alright, then whoever can get them to accept an invitation to the upcoming semi-formal will be the winner.”

“Deal. Try not to feel too hurt by their rejection, it’s not as though you can compete with a real prince like myself.”

“I’m not worried, you hardly qualify as a prince, lazy second-son that you are. Unless you’re planning to actually try for once? Could it be you have another motivation for wooing the prefect?”

“As if I would go for a pathetic little herbivore like them. I’m in this to prove a point to you, that’s all,” Leona huffs. “You’re the one who suggested them. Projecting, are we?”

Vil smirks at his denial. “My, my, quite the tsundere little kitty you are. I have no reason to deny, I have become quite fond of them recently. Enough to stop you from becoming a perpetual nuisance in their life, at least.”

-

The next day, you sit at your usual lunch table with Ace, Deuce, and Grim, when a certain grumpy lion approaches you.

“Herbivores,” Leona says, narrowing his eyes at the sight of Grim devouring an entire leg of chicken. He turns his gaze to you. “Get up, prefect, I need to talk to you.”

“Kinda busy,” you mumble, mouth full of food.

“Why, hello prefect,” Vil greets, walking over from his table where Rook and Epel watch on. “Ah, let me get that for you.” He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, gently tilting your face when you look up at him and dabbing at the corner of your mouth. “Now you look perfect.” Vil looks up at Leona, saccharine smile ablaze. “Was this man bothering you?”

You ignore his strange behaviour and decide to just continue eating.

Leona glares at him, spotting the rose in Vil’s hand. “Aren’t you about to do the same thing, Schoenheit?”

Vil scoffs, glimpsing the small jewelry box Leona is subtly holding behind his back. “Hardly. I was simply checking in on my dear friend, who seemed distressed by your presence.”

Between Grim looking over at your food every two seconds and the bickering going on above your head, you decide to give in and let him have the rest of yours. “…I think I’m just going to leave.”

The two housewardens are too busy bickering to notice you making your escape, leaving them with the rest of your table.

“I never knew you felt so threatened by me. You really had to resort to sabotaging my attempts?”

“I was not! You just happened to be in the way of my own plans,” Vil dismisses.

Ace finally looks up from his lunch to address the situation. “What’s up with you, housewardens? Why are you hovering around the prefect like that?”

“Stick your nose out of this, freshman. It’s none of your business.”

Vil sighs. “If you must know, I wish to ask the prefect to attend the semi-formal as my date. I came to ask them.”

Ace looks back in forth in surprise between Vil and Leona. “You too, Leona? Huh, never figured you’d be interested in anyone but yourself.”

“Don’t lump me in with him. This is just a competition for me. Neither of us won when trying to charm the ghost, so now I’m going to take my victory over him.”

Ace relaxes a little at his words, turning to the other housewarden. “You’re doing this for a competition, Vil? I know Leona is shameless, but surely you’d never stoop to his level?”

“It’s not just for the competition. I do like the prefect, but now I have the chance to take them to the dance and to show Leona how much more charming I am than him.”

“I mean, I hate to rain on your guys parade but I think it’s a lost cause. The prefect definitely likes me. We’re best friends after all, so they’d probably choose me if I asked.” Ace says nonchalantly, earning him a glare from Deuce. “Not that I’m interested in them! Obviously, I don’t care. But, uh, if it’s a competition, of course I have to win.”

Deuce rolls his eyes: “You’re such an idiot. And wrong. I’m their best friend.”

“And where do you think you’re going?” Vil asks Leona when he starts to walk away.

“To nap. It’s exhausting dealing with you children. Try not to get in my way, next time,” Leona replies, not bothering to turn around as he saunters away.

-

The next time you’re approached by the housewardens is in the hallway after class. You jump in surprise when a hand reaches around your waist to pull you into an empty classroom. The long brown hair that tickles your face gives you a pretty good idea of who the culprit is.

“Prefect,” Leona greets casually , as if he didn’t just basically kidnap you with no explanation.

“What are you doing? Will you let go of me, please,” you sigh.

Leona loosens his grip and turns you around in his arms to face him. He brushes a hand over your cheek, tucking a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he says, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. He’s so close his breath brushes over your neck.” “For me to let go of you?”

“Leona?! I-”

Your response is interrupted by the sound of a bell and the noise of chatting students approaching the classroom you currently occupy. You and Leona fling apart, but there isn’t enough time for you to calm your flustered face before Floyd, just entering the room, is able to see it.

“Shrimpy! What are you doing in here with sea lion?” Floyd takes in your embarrassed expression. “You haven’t been doing anything naughty, have you? And without me?”

“Nothing happened, eel. Let’s go, prefect.”

“Now you’re trying to take shrimpy away after hogging them all to yourself?”

“Sorry, Floyd,” you appease, not wanting to get into another ridiculous situation, “but he’s right. I have a class to get to.”

“Class is boring. I’d much rather be playing with you, but suit yourself. I’ll just have to squeeze you sometime later!”

Leona trails behind you as you walk to your next class, demanding an explanation from him.

“So why did you try and seduce me?”

“Seduce? You’re so perverted. Have you forgotten I’m a prince? I was only trying to-”

His reasoning is interrupted by Crewel’s glare as you silently head into class and take your spot beside Ace, leaving Leona to get a talking to for making you late.

-

“Leona and Vil have both been acting so weird lately, and I don’t know why.”

You miss the side-eye Ace and Deuce give each other as they ‘uh huh’ your venting.

“So,” Ace says, leaning towards you a bit, “Have you heard of the upcoming dance?” He winces when Deuce kicks him from under the table. “It’s kinda stupid, but if you wanted to go-”

“Trappola! Quiet or you’ll have extra work to do after class.”

Crewel seemed to be saving you a lot today.

-

Later, you notice Vil ahead of you, walking by himself through the halls. He drops something on the ground, but walks away before you can call out to him. Picking up his dropped handkerchief, you rush after him, finding yourself in yet another dim, empty classroom.

“Vil?” you call. He turns around, and you hold his lost item out to him. “You dropped this.”

His eyes light up and he smiles when he sees what you’ve brought. “Oh! Thank you so much, dear.” He approaches you, suddenly dropping a kiss on your cheek, making your face heat up. He winks. “Just a little reward for your endless kindness.”

“Uh, it was nothing, really.”

“Nonsense!” Vil leans against the wall, filling your view. “In fact, let me repay you. Do you have some time now?”

Before you can respond, someone flickers the lights on, the brightness now revealing the room was less empty than you assumed. The sound of a violin fills your ears as you spot Rook in the corner of the room, playing beautifully. Epel stands in front of a small table, set with two plates and a vase of roses in the middle. He blushes a little when you spot him, giving you a gentle wave. Both of them wear suits. Epel approaches Vil to remove his school overcoat to put on a more traditional suit jacket.

Still lost in confusion, you let Vil guide you to your seat at the table. He sits down across from you, taking your hands into his. Epel brings out a slice of chocolate cake, setting it between you, before going to sit near Rook.

“Ah, I hope you don’t mind sharing, dear.” He winks again. “You know, I really would like to repay you for your act of kindness.”

“Did you just- have this all set up? In case you dropped something…? It’s really nothing, it took me literally two seconds to return.”

“So humble, it’s one of your many fantastic qualities. I am serious about treating you, though. You know the upcoming dance?” You nod, not liking where this is going. “How about I accompany-”

Before he can finish, the door flies open and Leona struts in. He, seemingly, is not fazed by this set up in the middle of an empty classroom.

He ignores Vil and the others completely, turning to you. “Prefect, we never finished our conversation from earlier,” he grumbles.

“You’re right. Sorry, Vil, but it would be rude to keep him waiting. I better just-”

“Please, I have something important to ask you. Just one moment of you time is all I ask.” Vil places him arm on your shoulder.

“They already made up their mind, Schoenheit. Back off, they wanna come with me.” Leona grabs hold of your hand, trying to tug you out of Vil’s grasp.

Vil does not give in, taking hold of your other hand. “Putting words into their mouth, Kingscholar? They were about to choose me.”

Stuck between the two of them, locked in a glaring contest, you try to pull your arms from both of them.

“Merveilleux!” Rook stops playing his violin, approaching the group of you. “To have two beautiful men trying to make you swoon, c’est le paradis!Would you like me to become a contender for your heart as well?” Rook sweeps his arms around you gently, before Leona pushes him off.

“Fuck off, I don’t need another one of you pomefiore brats swarming around them.”

Rook turns back to you. “He’s quite possessive, are you into that type of man, I wonder? I can be that type too~”

“I’ve gotta go,” you say, taking this chance to run out of the class.

-

You’re asked to sit in on a meeting with the teachers and housewardens, which Vil and Leona decide to use as their last opportunity to win once most of the others have left. Only you, Leona, Vil, and Azul remain, still packing up your things.

“Prefect? I apologize to bother you again, but if I could, I’d still love to ask you-”

Vil is, once again, interrupted before he can finish.

“Prefect,” Leona says, touching your cheek. You turn to face him just in time for him to pull out a jewelry box from his pocket, popping it open in front of you. “I-”

“What the hell? Are you actually proposing to me?!”

“What are you on about?” It’s only then that Leona seems to realize your confusion. “A ring, Ruggie?? I said get something nice, not a ring!”

Ruggie strolls in from around the corner, shrugging. “I’ve never even seen jewelry this expensive before. How would I know what you wanted me to get? I’ll take it if they don’t want it.” He pauses, suddenly remembering something. “Also, did you still want me to bring in the flowers? There’s four hundred roses just sitting in the other room.”

You turn back to Leona incredulously. “Why did you send Ruggie to- Forget it, why have you guys been acting so strange?”

“Leona and Vil made a bet on who could get you to agree to go as their date to the semi-formal. It seems their small, fragile egos were quite bruised from their rejection by the ghost bride,” Azul interjects, finally looking up from his book at the corner of the table.

Vil stares at him. “You truly have no loyalty nor shame.”

“Says you,” you quip.

“Yes, it’s quite pitiful. I heard rumours and used my resources to discover the truth. I thought you deserved to know, prefect.” Azul stands from his chair, approaching where you’re sitting to place a hand on your shoulder. “Now, if you still wanted to attend the event with someone who wasn’t planning on manipulating you into it, I would be happy to offer my services.”

Your narrowed eyes prompts Azul’s swift apology.

“Ah, I see now was not the correct time. I shall make my exit.” He leaves the room along with Ruggie, leaving you three alone.

“What is wrong with both of you? You didn’t learn your lesson with Eliza? It’s messed up to play with a person’s feelings like this, I’m not your little prop.”

“Prefect-” Vil starts, cutting himself off at the look you give him.

You give them each one last glare before walking out the door, barely hiding your laughter.

-

“You’re quite the actor, my dear,” Malleus says, slipping your hand into his own as the two of you walk towards Ramshackle.

“I know,” you laugh, “Did you see their faces? I think that’s the first time in his life Leona’s ever looked guilty. His tail was definitely between his legs.”

“Yes, it was rather unbecoming of him,” Malleus chuckles, before stopping his stride. “Although, you could have simply let them know you already belong to another.”

“True, but it shouldn’t really matter. It’s not as though they’re actually interested. They clearly just think of me as some kind of prize to win in an ego competition. Plus, it’ll certainly make a scene when we walk in to the dance together, won’t it?”

Malleus sighs, pulling you into his arms to drop a kiss on your head, before continuing to walk you home. “You are far too naive, my love. Not to worry, you have me to protect you from those beasts.”

#lol this is unserious again #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #malleus draconia x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #ace trapolla x reader #rook hunt x reader #leona kingscholar #vil schoenheit #malleus draconia #azul ashengrotto #ace trappola #deuce spade #floyd leech #rook hunt #twst #twisted wonderland #why did leona and vil lowkey end up having sm tension #leovil slipped in there

[papercorgiworld]

Pansy’s interrogation II

Enzo, Blaise, Mattheo, Draco and Theo

Pansy’s back with more teasing and questions to confirm her suspicions.

Honestly, I know this isn’t peak writing, but I personally just love these little scenario’s. Also, no warnings!

All interrogations are separate scenes, so you don’t need to read part 1, but if you’re curious: read it here.

I’m currently working on a request based on the scenario’s of part one of ‘Pansy’s Interrogation’. Theo’s I will post later today, like in a few hours or so. The other one about Mattheo’s scenario is a bit of a struggle, so hopefully tomorrow evening.

Enzo Berkshire

Pansy joins Enzo at the Slytherin table in the great hall for an early breakfast. “Lorenzo, sweetie.” He looks up as Pansy takes a seat next to him. Oh dear, she wants something. He hates this, he gets nervous when Pansy wants something from him. He really isn’t good at keeping secrets.

Pansy fills her plate, while Enzo contemplates what she could possibly want from him. “Yesterday the girls and I were talking and it came up that-“ Enzo drops his spoon on his plate, startling Pansy. He then turns to her, catching her full attention. “I wasn’t staring at (y/n)’s boobs… or ass. I mean I wasn’t looking at her. I’ve never seen (y/n) in my life.”

Pansy smirks. Dearest Lorenzo, you're a simp. Blaise and Theo join them, but immediately frown at Enzo’s flustered face. “He just confessed his love for (y/n).” Pansy chuckles.

Enzo eyes widened. “I didn’t confess to anything.” Blaise drops his head as he laughs. “Enzo, mate, almost everyone knows.” Enzo narrows his eyes in frustration with his friend. “Pretty sure I’ve heard you say her name in your sleep.” Theo adds.

Pansy laughs content with all the information she’s collecting. “It was more like a moan.” Blaise argues, making it worse. Enzo is losing his mind by now, worried what you’ll think of him. He’s pleased when he spots Mattheo and Draco approaching.

“Guys, help me out here. They’re saying I’m in love with (y/n).” Draco chuckles. “You mean the girl you yesterday referred to as your future wife.” You’re all a bunch of assholes!

“Okay, Pans, are you open to bribes? Because I really don’t need (y/n) knowing about this.” Pansy grins. “Maybe.”

Blaise Zabini

Blaise walks away from you with a blissful smile. Pansy’s already grinning when he makes eye contact with her. He groans when she laces her arm with him. “So attentive of you help her carry her books.” Blaise just nods. “I would do the same for your Pansy.” She just darts her eyes at him. Flattery won’t help you, dearest Blaisy. “Reminds me of when you helped her during potions last week and let’s not forget that you lent her your notes for Herbology.”

Blaise forces her to let go of his arm, creating some much needed distance so he can keep up his cool act. “What can I say, Pansy, I’m just a really nice person. Maybe you should follow my example.”

“You’re nice on the eyes. But that’s as far as you go on the topic of nice.” Pansy argues, making Blaise’s eyes roll up in frustration.

“Hey, hey, Blaise, mate, I need your help.” Mattheo comes running towards them.

“You’re in luck, Matt, because as of recently Blaise is a nice and helpful person.” Mattheo frowns at Pansy, but decides to ignore her and turns to Blaise. “Sluggy says I really screwed up by not showing up to class… for two weeks. So, next week we will team up so I can fix my grades, alrighty?” Blaise just stares at his friend, while cursing that Pansy’s still there.

“Can’t you ask Theo?” Mattheo shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll annoy the hell out of him and get the content of the cauldron in my face.” Blaise sighs. “I can't, I need to help… someone else.”

Pansy licks her lips. “Let me guess?” She sings. “(Y/n)?” Mattheo grins in realization and Blaise clenches his jaw. A twisted smile tugs at Pansy’s lips.

“Alright then mate, since you’ve already got Pansy to deal with I won’t cockblock.” Mattheo leaves and Blaise just groans at the fact that Pansy’s still staring at him with wicked eyes.

Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo watches you excitedly explain something to Hermoine at the Gryffindor table. When you catch him staring he winks at you and looks away. “Ahww.” Mattheo suddenly hears Pansy’s voice next to him, making him lose his appetite.

“It’s cute, but I don’t know in what male fantasy world, staring and winking makes a girl fall in love with you, but in this world it won’t work.” Mattheo’s tongue is poking the inside of his cheek as tries to ignore her presence.

“I might know what will make her fall in love.” Pansy whispers near Mattheo’s ear. His eyes search you and he finds you laughing with the Weasley twins, reminding him that you’re both worlds apart.

“Yeah, that’s great, go tell it to someone who cares.” Mattheo’s tone is calm, but his eyes are dark. He gets up and heads for the common room. Pansy raises an eyebrow at Mattheo’s sensitive behavior, before filling her plate without a care in the world. Apparently, someone’s still in denial of their feelings.

Draco Malfoy

“What's up with that (y/n) girl?” Draco snars as he sits down in the great hall, making Pansy drop out of the conversation she was having.

“She’s wearing mismatching socks like some looney. Which is nearly as bad as that glittery thing she was wearing during the last quidditch game.” Pansy’s head was resting in her palm while enjoying Draco’s little rant.

“And what’s up with all those hearts that she draws next to her notes? Makes me sick.” Draco’s face fills with disgust and annoyance.

“Those hearts are because of you.” Draco looks up at Pansy, a blush immediately creeping up on his cheeks. “Really?”

“No. Of course not.” Pansy laughs and Blaise, who sits opposite of Draco, can’t help but snicker, earning himself a dirty look from Draco.

Pansy licks her lips, ready to play her game. “You sure know a lot about her. Been watching her? Or should I say stalking?” Draco gets a little nervous and avoids Pansy’s eyes. “I just notice things.” Pansy hums, not impressed with his answer.

“Then you’ve probably also seen her hang out with Diggory?” Draco snorts, unable to hide his frustration about the matter. “Yeah, what is that even about?”

“Maybe those little hearts on her notes have something to do with it.” Pansy watches Draco carefully so she can pinpoint the moment he realizes you might have a thing for Cedric.

“The girl obviously has no taste.” Is all Draco says before he starts picking at the food on his plate. Pansy smirks as Draco eyes land on your figure. Please, please, don’t let it be true.

Theodore Nott

Theodore was lying in his bed with a book over his head avoiding everyone, but unfortunately Pansy is unavoidable. When he heard the door he didn’t react, but did listen to every step the person took to figure out who it was. Theo sighed when he came to the conclusion it wasn’t one of his mates, so it really couldn’t be anyone else but Pansy.

”What do you want?” Theodore snares when Pansy stops next to his bed. “No, need to be mean. I brought you overly expensive coffee.”

Theodore calms down and removes the book from his face. “Thanks, I guess.” Pansy rolls her eyes but offers him the coffee. Theo takes a sip, while carefully watching Pansy sit down on his bed. “What do you want?”

”Nothing! Is that so hard to believe?” Theo nods and takes another sip. Pansy scans the fresh bruise on his face and purses her lips. “I heard about the fight.” “Of course you did, why else would you be bringing me expensive coffee.”

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s sweet that you’re defending (y/n). What that guy said was outrageous.” Theo stares down the paper cup he is holding. He really didn’t need all of Hogwarts to know he punched a guy for calling you pretentious and fuckable. Especially since you and him weren’t exactly friends. “It had nothing to do with (y/n). He wasn’t watching where he was going and his dumbass walked into me on a bad day.”

“Punching people for walking into you, wow, you’ve been hanging out too much with Riddle.” Pansy sighs pretending to buy into his cool act.

“Theo, my dude, I found all the ingredients for that potion you were talking about! That piece of shit will never say a bad thing about (y/n) again!” Enzo’s enthusiastic face drops when he spots Pansy. “Oh hey Pans.”

Pansy smiles at Enzo and turns her face to Theodore with a victorious smirk. “I knew it.” Theo’s annoyed eyes roll to a very apologetic looking Enzo.

Did you spot a mistake or typo? Let me know, you’ll be rewarded with a virtual smootch!

#slytherin boys #slytherin #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #blaise zabini #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #enzo berkshire x reader #papercorgiworldwritings

[bachiras-toaster]

jealousy and it’s consequences : ̗̀➛

BSD MEN x gn!reader

cw: smut, manipulation, obsessiveness, possessiveness, they’re all a little toxic (except atsushi), giving head (ranpo), receiving head (poe), riding (Atsushi), masturbation

synopsis. how bsd men deal with their jealousy after seeing you with their rival.

characters: dazai, chuuya, ranpo, poe, atushi, akutagawa

DAZAI, seeing you with Chuuya

He sees you with Chuuya? He dares you to hang out with him more. He's serious! Go wild. Hold hands, kiss him— Do it all right in front of Dazai. If you have the nerve to do all of those things in the first place, then surely you wouldn't be opposed to not doing it behind his back? If you're going to so obviously make him jealous, do it to his face.

He will take it out on the both of you-- You more-so than Chuuya. Dazai would probably give Chuuya a quiet and humorous warning, telling him that he could only give him so many more second chances before him hanging out with you really started to tick him off. As for you, he's gonna make sure he has you all to himself from there on out. It's clear that you purposefully making him jealous must be the result of him not giving you enough attention. Well, don't worry, because now he is completely focussed on you. He'll make sure that another person won't even do so much as look at you- Even if it means constantly having you at his side in the agency, cornering you and separating you from your coworkers.

The thing is, he'll act really nice about it, telling you how it's just because he wants you all to himself! He can't stand the thought of you around other people, and seeing you hang out with Chuuya just made him realise that. You're the light of his life, believe him. He can't have other people trying to take that away from him.

When it comes to the sex afterwards too, he gets even more needy. He's a lot more touchy with you, desperate to mark and grab any bit of skin that he can. He's whining and crying to you while he leaves his seventh hickey on your collarbone, his saliva pulling from your skin to his lip as he complains about how he feels so lost without you. Do you prefer Chuuya? Be honest with him. If you really loved him more, you'd let him leave more hickeys on you and you wouldn't try to conceal them the next day. You hated seeing how he teared up while doing so, it just meant you couldn't help but softly pat his head and sigh, treating him as if he were a sick puppy.

CHUUYA, seeing you with Dazai

He'd make his annoyance super obvious from the get-go. He probably wouldn't outright say he's jealous, but he'd heavily imply it. Whenever you come back to work, telling him that you had a fun day out with Dazai, you could swear you'd see Chuuya's eye twitch uncontrollably for a second or two. You'd constantly hear those remarks saying "What's so great about Dazai anyway?" or "How funny can he even really be?" Soon, those remarks tumble into off-handed insults, such as "Dazai doesn't have the mental capacity to take care of someone." He would never blame you for hanging out with him, it will always somehow be Dazai's fault. Dazai must have coaxed you and tricked you into hanging out with him!

His solution would simply be spending more time with you. But, instead of closing you off from the world, he shows you off instead. Insists on going out on dates, PDA in public, walking past the detective agency holding hands in the hopes that Dazai would see it through the window and take the hint... You know, the basic stuff.

But when he's fucking you, the jealousy really shines through that man's eyes. He has you pinned down as he thrusted deeper into you, forcing you to choke out his name as a flurry of moans escaped your lips. Are you still thinking about Dazai right now, or have you finally come to your senses? He's so relentlessly rough with you when he's jealous, so you better pray that that jealousy is mild and not angry, because your legs would have a field day. He'd keep going at it until he was satisfied, ensuring that only his name could linger on your tongue- Only then would he accept that you're only his.

RANPO, seeing you with Poe

Questions the hell out of you. Like, you've been spending a lot of time with Poe recently, haven't you? There's a sort of blunt curiosity to him and he just can't help but swarm you with these queries. "Did you hang out with Poe today?" "I heard you and Poe went to the park." "Yeah, I was busy earlier, but I'm glad you found someone else to hang out with. It was Poe, right?"

He would victimise himself a lot, really dramatising the situation. He'll ask you if you really love him or if you think he's actually worth hanging around. If not that, he'd constantly try and convince you why you should hang out with him instead. If he sees that you're about to leave the agency to go to and meet Poe, he'd immediately stop you. Suddenly, it looks like the perfect day to go for a stroll around the park with Ranpo, don't you think? Or go to the movies? Maybe a nice library? You can even choose the place! Just don't choose Poe over him, he will cry when you're not looking.

Giving him head is the only possible solution to convince him that you wouldn't leave him for somebody else. Having you tucked sweetly between his legs as he leaned back in his office chair, his hand gently stroking the back of your neck- He really deserves this after going through the stress of thinking that you and Poe had something going on. He's an arrogant man, but he can't help but worry, you know? But since you can put aside some time in your schedule just for him, then he supposed that he shouldn't be too concerned.

POE, seeing you with Ranpo

He isn't very surprised at the idea that you could choose Ranpo over him, because of course! Anyone would. It's Ranpo, right? The smartest man alive- Who wouldn't choose Ranpo over Poe? If destroys is self-esteem and his self-worth seeing you and his rival get along so well and so easily. He is very aware of the fact that Ranpo is very intelligent, but would he have the brains to take you away from him? Is he that cruel of a person?

He tries everything to win you over from that man. Even if you don't realise it, doing so much as interact with Poe's rival is enough for him to spiral and to cause him to believe that you must already be considering ditching him. What is it that you want? Gifts? He can deliver that to you in truckloads. Do you want a relaxing holiday? He'll write up a cute story for you, no problem. Poe would kiss the ground that you walked on if it meant that you chose him over Ranpo. He would try everything in his power to remove that man out of the picture, but we all know that there isn't a novel complex enough to trap the Ranpo Edogawa.

So now Poe's tucked between your thighs, working his tongue at your senses as begging that you stay with him. The head is good, right? Tell him that it's good. Tell him he's doing a good job. You need to ensure him that you could never leave him for someone else, otherwise he'll keep whining about it against your skin. He'll continuously ask you if you like how he makes you feel so he can ensure that he can keep doing the right things. He's a listener. If he finds out what you like, he'll use it to his complete advantage.

ATSUSHI, seeing you with Akutagawa

Perhaps the least toxic one when it comes to dealing with jealousy. He doesn't blame you, he only blames himself. You know he gets super self conscious, right? There's no doubt that you're only hanging out with Akutagawa because he hasn't been treating you well enough. At first, he would confide in his friends, like Kyouka or Kunikida. Kyouka would threaten to hurt you, but he would frantically beg her not to put you in harm’s way; and Kunikida would tell him that he shouldn't be jealous, and that you're allowed to have other friends. But he simply can't help it.

It would lead him to pour his entire heart into taking care of you. He needs you to know that he loves you completely, and that you're the only one for him. Gifts, dates, compliments, praise, he'll provide it all for you. If you still choose Akutagawa after all of that, he'll accept it, but he hopes you'll choose him in the end.

So now you need to ride him, tilting his chin up so you could stare down at his pretty little face. He'd whine and cuddle you as you bounced up and down on his lap, blushing profusely as he mutters how much he loves you. He'll give everything to you, everything you want. He'll treat you right. He doesn't want to be jealous, he just wants to be yours.

AKUTAGAWA, seeing you with Atsushi

What could that stupid weretiger have that he doesn't? He's threatened to kill Atushi enough times now, so seeing you interact with him doesn't help his bloodlust and the desire to knock his lights out- in fact, it's just a greater motivation.

And his jealousy is so obvious in the way he threatens you too, grabbing you by the collar and telling you he wouldn't hesitate to have the Port Mafia toss you on the side of the street if you continue conversing with the enemy. You need to make a decision: The Port Mafia or the Armed Detective Agency- Akutagawa or Atsushi? The decision is clear, right? He knows that you wouldn’t dare choose the weretiger over him and you were simply doing this in order to get a rise out of him. He knew all too well.

So now, instead of giving you all of the attention you could dream for, he ignores you. He turns away and isolates you until you’re practically begging for his attention once again. It was just a joke, you just wanted a little bit more love— That’s what you would tell him, but it would never be enough to undo the anger in his heart.

There is no jealousy sex that comes afterwards, it’s just plain voyeurism. While he works on something to do with another one of the Port Mafia’s upcoming attacks, he’d tell you to touch yourself while he plans this and if you’re good by the end of it, he’ll finish the job. But now that just leaves you in another seat on the other side of the room, your legs spread open as you tried to stimulate yourself at the sight of him working. Of course, Akutagawa had no intention of actually touching you to serve as punishment-but you weren’t aware of that, leaving you whining and biting down on your lip as you prayed he would look at you for just a second. Even through your masturbation, he still chose not to look you in the eye, which you found was even more agitating than him not touching you instead.

#bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungos stray dogs x reader #bungos stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x you #bungos stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader smut #dazai osamu #dazai x reader smut #atsushi nakajima #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa x reader #edgar allan poe

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Jazz Fenton, after years of fixing her brother’s injuries, becomes a Doctor with an inclination towards behavioral health and psychology- In order to make the difference she wants to see in the world she joins Dr. Leslie Thompkin’s practice. 

Jazz Fenton, M.D. has spent years of her life doing research, doing the hard work and the emotional labor, and finally, finally, she’s joining a practice she can feel 100% confident in. She’s goddamn good doctor and she wants to make the biggest impact that she can. 

Dr. Thompkins (who insists that she call her Leslie as they’re colleagues now), is a kind woman, sharp as a tack and keeps her practice open at odd hours to help the most unfortunate. It took some time for them to bond and trust to be built, but now Jazz is being allotted a few night shifts here and there. 

It’s incredible. Jazz gets to spend time with the kids who come in and really talk to them (in addition to getting them antibiotics, heating pads and pokemon themed bandaids) to help equip them with a few coping skills. Her passion for psychology never disappeared after all, but the expansive knowledge of how to heal the human body has made her find a sense of fulfillment like no other.

Having proven herself and worn Leslie down, Jazz now takes up about 1/3 of all the night shifts in the month. She’s hoping to get to 50/50 by the end of the year but she’s content with what she has. Danny keeps odd hours anyway so calling him after work on her walk home can happen any time of day and he will always answer enthusiastically. 

It’s a particularly busy night before he comes in. The Red Hood. 

He was known for being an ally to Leslie, despite being on contentious terms with the Bats, but Jazz had never asked directly. Never one to turn away a patient with bullet hole wounds, she hops into action to get his wounds cleaned, sewed up and gauze wrapped. She’s handing him a sheet (an Infographic! Dani made it with her! Graphic design is her passion!) on how to care for his wounds when he first seems to recognize that she’s not Leslie. 

“No, Of course not. I’m Dr. Fenton. I can’t blame you for not remembering but I did introduce myself as you bled in the entry way. You’re Red Hood, right?” 

“Hm. Didn’t realize the practice was expanding. Where can I find-” He grumbles before pushing her hand aside from where she had still been supporting his shoulder.

“Hold on there, mister. You’re going home, you’re following this infographic and you’re going to get some sleep.” 

“Lady you don’t know-” His voice modulated ton came across antagonistically. As if he was trying to intimidate her. Ha, Jazz rolls her eyes at the inclination.

“Who I’m talking to? Who I’m dealing with? You’re hilarious. I can eat you vigilante’s hero complexes for breakfast. Tell me who I’m calling to pick you up and then you can say thank you.” Jazz snaps at him. It really had been a long night but his whole dialogue thus far is making her a bit batty. 

“Oh really Doc? You know Leslie’s tough shit, and from what I can tell you’ve got nothing on her-” 

“Trying to make me feel insufficient when I just saved your life? That’s cute. I’m sure a lifetime of abandonment by both of your parental figures gave you that. I’m also sure that you inherited this desire to prove you’re not going to be dependent on anyone who wants to help from whoever got you dressing up in tights to fight crime in the first place. Again, I’d love to talk at length about how predictable you-” 

“Bwah- wait- I’m Predictable? You’re probably some nepobaby who had parents who told her she could have the world-” But Jazz cuts him off with hysterical laughter- he couldn’t be further from the truth. Her parents loved her, but nepotism? With what, the ghosts? If anything she got that from Danny, but he doesn’t need to know about her ghostly titles. 

“You’re just some guy who came back from the dead and made his trauma everyone else’s issue. So shut it. And tell me how I’m getting you home from this clinic.” She seethes though her voice stays devastatingly level with each word. 

Speechless for a moment, he eventually relents to Jazz that he’s already called for help on the comms but it will be hours before they can come for a pick up. The sun had already come up and the night had been over for most of them before Hood had walked into trouble. She groans and the realizes the time for herself and the empty clinic around them.

“Fine. My shift just ended anyway. I’ll get you home in one piece and I swear to all the ancients that you’d better follow the directions on the infographic.” 

And that’s how Jazz ended up calling her brother while supporting the weight of a grown ass man (who no longer wanted to talk to her) on her walk home. 

The next time Red Hood appears in her clinic, he’s brought a dozen roses in addition to the cut on his neck that definitely needs to be pressurized like ASAP. Did he stop for the flowers on his way to the clinic? He’s going to pass out from blood loss! She doesn’t even like roses!

#ehehehe #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #anger management #jazz fenton #jason todd #she still loves psychology but its a back pocket tool to her knowledge as an emergency medicine provider #jazz is ready to throw hands because becoming a princess during med school sucked ass #she did not have the time #but she loves and supports anything danny is doing sooo... #danny is currently attending gotham u for engineering but lives across town so they just call everyday #he sees her on her off days and always brings her tons of fast food #jason is immediately smitten with the woman put him in his place #the pit maddness was barking up a storm this entire convo but she got him home and he was like holy fuck im in love #jason todd said she saw right through me and that shit was hot #yes he totally stopped to grab (steal) flowers on his way to the clinic #dick picks him up this time. sees the flowers and is like oh cool its my turn to wingman for my lil bro #jazz is worn down by sweet gestures and the fact that hes legit so nice now when he comes into the clinic #he quotes poetry at her sometimes and she's like omg did you just make that up? she's never read poetry a day in her life #only medical textbooks and psychology papers #long post

[scuderiahoney]

Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion pt 2

hockey au part 2: a lil backstory, Max Verstappen’s Pizza Theory, breakfast for dinner, and the beginnings of a physics study club. 5.7k words

warnings: mentions of sports related injuries, alcohol, and a creepy guy at a party.

You met Lando your freshman year, in an intro level writing class. Lando Norris may be great at hockey, but he was and still is absolutely atrocious at writing, which you discovered quickly when you’d been paired up with him for a partner project. He was the most talkative person in the whole class, and also the most likely to fall asleep. You couldn't blame him. It was an 8 am class, and from what you could tell, he had early morning hockey practices nearly every day.

He’d noticed the Timberwolves Soccer sticker on your laptop case, the one you’d been picking at the edges of at any available moment, trying to peel it off. It wouldn’t budge. He’d tried to use that as a common interest, a way to make a connection. He hadn’t known how much of a touchy subject it was. How could he have? The two of you barely knew each other's names.

You’d been angry at the world, at the time. Fresh off a life changing injury, still dealing with the physical therapy afterwards and stuck feeling like it was all so painfully obvious due to the knee brace on your leg. You’d only come to the stupid school to play on the soccer team, anyways. A month into your freshman year, injured and off the roster, with your chances of ever playing again looking bleak, you’d had a hard time trying to find a new reason to be there.

Before you met Lando, the soccer team had been your main source of friends. When you got injured, it all went to shit. At first, you hadn’t blamed them for the distance. You were dealing with something none of them even wanted to think about. But when you had to have surgery and none of them even bothered to text and check in, you’d begun to feel bitter. It had felt so lonely, in a town where you knew nobody, and the few people you’d connected with had slipped away. Lando had helped change that. His team had helped change that.

By the time you had to have a second surgery during winter semester, you’d been fully adopted by the entire Timberwolves Hockey team. They’d sent cards and flowers that filled up the room. Lando had visited every day, at least one of his teammates in tow. Max hadn’t been team captain at the time, but he’d taken the lead on getting a schedule set up to have people help carry your things to class for you while you were on crutches. You’d found a family, a reason to stay at the school, even without your beloved sport. You’d never be able to thank them enough for it.

Now you’re in your junior year of college and sitting in the stands at a hockey game instead of on the field at a soccer game, but the people on the ice are all your best friends. They’re losing, quite terribly, if you’re being honest. The stands are half empty. They’re just… off, today, in the second game of the week. Not quite in sync. You can see the frustration on all of them even from all the way up in the stands. Charles and Carlos are bickering on the bench. Max is skating messily. Lando looks lost on the ice, like his skates have a mind of their own. Even Oscar is struggling.

When the buzzer sounds for the end of the game, you stand up from your seat and head outside. Lily’s not here tonight- she has to work- so you’re on your own as you head toward the house. You text Max and ask if you should order pizza. He replies with an enthusiastic yes, a list of requests, and $100 on Venmo.

You have the pizza waiting, along with paper plates and Gatorade, by the time the first one of them walks into the house. It’s Oscar. He shuffles into the kitchen and looks at the pizza boxes with a wrinkled nose.

“Are you guys having a party?” He asks.

You sort of hate the way he says it. You guys. Like it’s not his house. Like it’s not his team. You know the feeling, really, of sort of just drifting along with nothing to cling onto. You tilt your head at him and slide a bottle of Gatorade across the counter towards him.

“No,” you say, and his shoulders relax slightly. “Usually after a tough game, Max likes to do some sort of team bonding. So. Pizza. He didn’t tell you?”

Oscar shrugs. “He probably did. Dunno. I was kind of out of it, and I snuck out as soon as the coaches were done yelling.”

You wince and nod in understanding. “I used to be the same way after bad games.”

You don’t even realize what you’ve hinted at until his head jerks up from where he’s been staring at the bottle in front of him. “You play sports?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. You suppose he’ll hear the story eventually, but maybe now isn’t the best time. Maybe he doesn’t need your pity party while he’s trying to have his own. Maybe it’s nice that he doesn’t feel bad for you, just confused by you and your constant presence around the hockey team.

“Used to,” you say. When his face flickers with confusion, you hand him a paper plate. “Have some pizza. Captain’s orders.”

He stands there, staring, looking so unsure.

“You can take it up to your room if you really want, I won’t tattle” you say, and he twists his mouth. “Honestly, though? I hate to watch you guys lose, but sometimes these nights are some of the best. You should stick around.”

He pulls a piece of pepperoni pizza from the box and sets it on the plate. Then he takes a seat at one of the kitchen island barstools. You hope he doesn’t hear your sigh of relief.

An hour later, the kitchen, dining room, and back deck are full of people, and they’re all complaining about the game. Charles and Carlos are at the table, no longer angry with each other, instead complaining about a defenseman on the other team. Lando’s draped over Alex’s shoulder, loudly fake crying over god knows what. Oscar’s on Alex’s other side, laughing loudly at Lando’s dramatics.

You’re pouring drinks for the three of them- you’d offered when you noticed the empty cups. It’s not a party, but the alcohol helps numb the bitter feeling of a bad game. Max is standing nearby, looking proud. He elbows you.

“Pizza theory,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

You laugh. “Yeah, Max. Another one for the pizza theory.”

He’s had this running… experiment, of sorts, for a couple years now. It started after a string of bad games your freshman year, his sophomore year. He’d pointed out that when the team had pizza together after a loss, the next game was always a win. So he’d begun trying things out and writing down the results- you’ve seen the Google document, now co-organized by Charles. Pizza leads to wins almost 95% of the time. Chinese sits at a healthy 70%. They tried Subway one time and all got so sick off of it they nearly had to cancel the next game, so they never tried again.

You’ve told him before that you don’t think it’s really about the pizza- it’s about the time spent together, and the space to be just teammates again. It’s not like they’re apologizing or talking strategy, but put a bunch of greasy food in front of them and they’ll start to unwind. Mend bridges. Build new ones, even, you think, as you watch Oscar and Alex chat, heads leaned close together.

They win the next game by one point. It’s an away game, but you watch it from your apartment with Lily and a couple other friends, grinning the whole way through. You have pizza in honor of Max’s theory. Charles nearly tackles Oscar onto the ice when he scores. When the camera zooms in on the smiles on both of their faces, your heart melts. Lando howls like a wolf at the end of the game, which is simultaneously endearing and cringe inducing. When they get back to the hotel, he FaceTimes you from the elevator. It’s full of hockey boys with big grins on their faces. Max, hair still dripping wet from the shower, his arm slung around Lando, is smiling brightest of them all.

“Pizza theory!” he yells, and you can’t fight a grin in return.

“Pizza theory indeed,” you reply.

Oscar’s head pops up on the screen. You can only see his eyes and forehead, and he seems to know, because he wiggles his brows. It makes you laugh.

“What’s pizza theory?” He asks.

“You have much to learn, young grasshopper,” Lando quips.

“We’ll show you the Google doc later,” Charles promises. “Right now, we are going to the pool.”

…..

Oscar doesn’t join in the game afterparties for weeks. You don’t take it personally, but you do wonder why he doesn’t want to celebrate with his team. You even ask Lando to make sure he knows he’s invited. Your friend just looks at you like you’re crazy, which you suppose you are.

In the end, the party he does show up at isn’t even one after a game. It’s a bye week, and Seb gives them Saturday night off of practice, so they throw what starts out as a hangout and quickly morphs into a full on party. There are people spilling out into the lawn. Lando’s in charge of the music and taking it very seriously. And Oscar is in the kitchen, chatting with Alex over their red plastic cups. It’s an odd sight, but a welcome one. You’re trying not to stare.

Instead, you’re standing nearby, listening to Charles and Carlos argue. It’s over something stupid, you’re pretty sure- it almost always is. Max is standing next to you, hiding his amusement behind his own plastic cup. The three of them have a weird dynamic. Charles and Carlos have known each other for a while- they played together on a team before they started college. Max and Charles go farther back, though. They’re childhood rivals turned captain and alternate captain. They’re all oddly competitive over who likes who more or less. It’s entertaining, to say the least.

You’re really only half listening, using them to take appropriate breaks from watching Oscar. You’d tried to convince yourself you were just keeping an eye on him at first, that you were making sure he was okay and having fun. Now, two drinks deep, you’ve stopped making excuses in your own head. You just like the way he looks in the glow of Lando’s cheesy LED light strips. They’re purple tonight. Oscar’s cheekbones are painted purple because of it. You know there are freckles there, dotting his skin. You wish you were close enough to see them.

Eventually, you leave the guys to their arguing, tear your eyes from Oscar, and start to wander the party. There’s a lot going on, and there are a lot of people in the house that you’ve never met before. That happens, at these sort of events, you’ve found. The unplanned ones end up being an odd mix of people. So when you find yourself leaning against a wall and a guy you don’t recognize comes up to talk to you, you’re not exactly surprised. When he plants his hand next to your head on the wall, though, that does surprise you.

“I hear they call you Bunny,” he says, leering over you.

You hate the way he uses the nickname, the way it sounds on his lips. He leans close, caging you in. You swallow tightly, trying to peer over his shoulder and spot any one of your friends. It’s no use. He’s tall and broad and blocking your view. You say a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that one of your friends notices your absence.

“My friends do, yeah,” you say, hoping he takes the hint. “Actually, I have to go find-“

He cuts you off when he leans closer. You press yourself back against the wall. You can smell the cheap beer on his breath. Your heart pounds in your chest. Fight or flight or freeze, time to choose.

“Come on, sweetie,” the guy says. “Be a good bunny and-“

Someone’s hand clamps down on his shoulder. That’s all you see before he’s ripped away from you. It’s like you can breathe again, suddenly, relief flashing through your brain like the purple lights in the kitchen. It’s followed quickly by concern, though, when you catch sight of what’s going on.

Oscar has him pinned against the wall, one hand on his shoulder, his other fist cocked back, elbow bent, ready to throw a punch. There’s fury on his face. You’ve never seen him like this. Oscar doesn’t really fight. Not now, not at his previous team, not before then, either. You know it because Lando mentioned it when talking about how levelheaded he was. Plus, there are no helmets or pads to protect him here. Just him and his apparent anger.

“Mate,” Max says, carefully, appearing almost out of thin air. “Cool down, yeah?”

Oscar grits his teeth and clenches his jaw. You blink widely at the sight in front of you. Max’s eyes flicker to you, to the way you’re huddled against the wall, and understanding washes over his face.

“Piastri,” Max says, which seems to clear a bit of the fog from Oscar's head. The younger teammate turns to look at his captain and falters slightly. “I think you’ve proved your point.”

Oscar takes it for what it is- a thinly veiled command. Fighting on the rink is one thing. Fighting at a party they’re definitely not supposed to be having is another. Once they’re in motion, fights are difficult to stop, even harder to control, really. It'll get out of hand, so, so quickly. Seb would have their heads on a silver platter, and Max is always responsible for the actions of the team- it comes with being captain. He drops his fist and backs away slightly. Max nods.

The guy sneers at you, then Oscar, and then he spits on the floor near your feet. “Dumb bitch-“

In the blink of an eye, he’s pinned back to the wall, this time by Max, both hands on each of his shoulders. He tosses a look over his shoulder at Oscar.

“Get her out of here?” He says, and Oscar nods frantically.

He takes your hand, gentle as ever. You follow along nearly blindly as tears begin to well up in your eyes. Oscar weaves through the crowd, a man on a mission, and heads for the stairs. You dodge a couple who are making out on the top step, and he makes his way to his bedroom. They keep the rooms locked during parties- he punches his code in and ushers you inside. You nearly laugh through your tears when you see number 44, Lewis Hamilton, staring down from the poster on the wall. You wonder if Oscar knows he and Lando have matching ones.

He sits you down on the bed, reaching to turn on the lamp. He moves around the room quickly, and he tosses you a hoodie from his drawer, which you pull over your head gratefully. You hadn’t noticed until then how you had your own arms wrapped around your body, like you were hiding. You shake your hands out, flexing your fingers, trying to get the feeling back in them.

He sighs and reaches for the door. “Okay. You’re okay. Just- I’ll close the door behind me and-“

“Where are you going?” You ask, suddenly feeling panicky. You think it’s clear just from the sound of your voice, too.

“To get Lando,” he says, freezing in place, hand on the doorknob as he looks at you.

You sniffle. “Max will find him. Could you- can you- I don’t want to be alone, really, so-“

“Fuck. Shit. Sorry,” Oscar says.

Then he does the last thing you’d have expected. He sits down on the bed next to you, close enough to touch, and then wraps an arm around your shoulders. You gasp at the feeling, but lean into it, feeling a bit of relief running down your spine. His hand covers your whole shoulder.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, and you nod. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t really think about it.”

“It’s okay,” you answer, unsure what he’s even apologizing for- almost leaving or touching you. Either way, it’s fine.

The two of you sit there in the relative quiet for a minute or two. Downstairs, the music is loud as ever. Oscar’s hand is heavy on your shoulder, and you’re still a bit stuck in fight or flight mode. Maybe you’re just frozen, really. You can still smell the beer on the other guy’s breath, can still see the anger on Oscar’s face, can still feel the panic when he was about to leave you. Your chest is tight, fingertips still buzzing.

“Were you actually going to punch him?” You ask, breaking the silence in the room, trying to find something to distract yourself.

Oscar huffs. “The first time, probably not. But when he called you a…” he shrugs. “If Max hadn’t been there…”

You turn to look at him. “Why?”

He blinks, almost taken aback that you’d even ask. “You know. Take care of the team and all.”

You sniffle. “But I’m not on the team.”

“Might as well be, all the time you spend here.”

“Yeah, but…” you trail off. “You don’t… you don’t care about me. You- why would you get into a fight for me?”

He’s quiet for a moment. You’re waiting for the canned answer. Because nobody else was around. Because I knew it’d earn me brownie points with the rest of the team. Because-

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “For making you feel like I didn’t care.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. His hand squeezes your shoulder. Your heart squeezes in your chest. You hadn’t meant for this to go this direction, and now your face is hot and your throat hurts and there are tears welling up behind your closed eyelids.

“I just… I showed up here, and everyone already has their friend groups and buddies and-“ he huffs again, and realization starts to dawn on you. “And they all love you, and they’re super protective of you. And I’ve been so busy trying to find my place here and not step on any toes, I guess I forgot to try and make friends, too, you know?”

You sigh. “I don’t bite, you know. I’m very easy to be friends with. I can be low maintenance if that’s what you need. Or- what’s Lando call it? Low frequency?”

Oscar laughs. “I know.”

You turn to look up at him, and your breath hitches when he reaches up and wipes a couple tears from your cheeks. An hour ago, you thought he couldn’t care less about you. Now you’re sitting in his room, and he’s wiping away tears with a tender touch that makes your stomach ache. His eyes trace your face, like he’s looking for injury, for a source of the pain. It’s overwhelming.

“Okay. So stop ignoring me in class? And in general?” You say, trying to redirect things.

He groans, dropping his chin to his chest. “That was- it wasn’t even on purpose, I just didn’t notice and then when I did it felt too late to say anything, so-“

You break off into a fit of giggles. He drops his arm from around your shoulder, and you miss the warmth immediately. You try not to let it show as he drags his hands over his face and echoes your laughter with his own. When you lean against his shoulder, your side pressed to his, he stays steady and lets you do it.

“It’s okay,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “Fresh start, yeah?”

He nods. You stick your hand out to him. He laughs and wraps his own around yours, shaking firmly.

“Awesome. Because I have a feeling you’re smart,” you say. “And I’m seriously going to fail our physics class unless you help me.”

Oscar laughs, and the way it takes over his whole body makes you smile. His head bumps against yours, but you can’t even find it in you to mind. It’s enough that he’s laughing around you.

“Okay, but you have to help me, too,” he says, hand still wrapped with yours, and he squeezes it. “I wanna fit in here. I mean, I’m not even from this continent, you know. So trying to find my place has been…”

Your heart aches for him. Suddenly it all makes sense. You know the feeling of being an outsider all too well. So you smile and nod and shake his hand again. “Deal.”

Lando comes and finds the two of you only a few minutes later. He knocks on the door, and Oscar opens it just a crack before he lets his teammate in. He leaves the two of you with a quick nod, seeming to understand that his job here is done. Lando takes you back to his room a few minutes later, his arm around your waist and his head knocking against yours. You pass Max in the hallway, who exchanges a look with Lando and reaches out to squeeze your arm. You’re sure he’ll interrogate you tomorrow to make sure you’re feeling okay.

Lando doesn’t even question the fact that Oscar was the one to take care of you- you suppose to him, it just makes sense. Teammates looking out for teammates, or in this case, their teammate’s friend. He just checks in on you, cleans up the last few tears from your face, and then suggests you stay the night. You don’t exactly want to go back downstairs and through the party, so you agree. You change into a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, though you keep Oscar’s sweatshirt and put it back on, too. Lando gives you the bed and pulls out the air mattress that he keeps on hand for this, and the two of you fall asleep to the sound of the bass shaking the walls of the house.

…..

The family dinner the next day is loosely breakfast themed. The guys are all dead in the morning, so you take it upon yourself to go do the shopping. And for that, you drag along your trusty assistant, Logan Sargeant. He’s one of few people on the team with his driver’s license, since so many of them are international students and never bothered getting one, and he has a car. Besides that, he’s a rookie, and he’s contractually obligated -meaning Max has politely asked him- to help you whenever you ask. He picks you up in his tiny Toyota, and then you’re off to the grocery store.

He carries the list while you stroll the aisles. “I’ve never heard of literally half the stuff on this list,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “That’s because you’re uncultured.”

You reach up on one of the shelves, snagging a jar with a yellow lid and label. He checks it off the list, brow furrowed.

“I thought this was breakfast for dinner night,” he adds, scrunching his nose up.

You turn to him, giving him an exasperated sigh. “It is. There’s just… a secondary theme. Don’t worry, my American boy, you’ll get your omelette.”

“Omelettes are French!” He cries out, huffing as you start to walk down the aisle, away from him. “The word is literally French!”

“Whatever you say, Miami,” you tease. “What’s next on the list?”

You buy Logan a coffee from a local place on your way back as a thank you for his help. In return, he tells you he forgives you for your comments about him being American. When you pull up to the house, you can see Lando and Charles in the living room. They come outside quickly, ready to help carry the bags in.

You head for the kitchen, one very specific bag in hand. When you walk in, you find Oscar, perched on a barstool, head pressed against his fist as his elbow rests on the counter. Max is on the phone in the dining area, chatting away loudly in another language. You can tell Oscar has a headache, just from the look on his face.

“You’re just the guy I was looking for,” you say, brightly but not too loud.

He blinks a couple times, then points at himself. “I’m an awful cook, if that’s what you’re implying.

You laugh and shake your head. “No, no- not that. But it’s breakfast night, right? So-“ you pull a jar of Vegemite out of the bag and set it down on the counter. “I got this. And then I went a little crazy in the international aisle of the grocery store. Oh, and I got sprinkles? The internet said something about fairy bread and I’m intrigued-“

You pause when he reaches for the jar, and his fingers brush yours. When you look up, there’s a look on his face you don’t quite recognize. It’s almost unbearably soft. You pull your hand out from under his so he can take the jar.

“You got Australian snacks,” he says, so quietly and almost reverently. “You…”

You shrug. “We talked about finding your place. One of the best ways I’ve found to do that is to tell people a little bit about yourself. It doesn’t have to be deep, could just be…”

He leans up and peeks in the bag, and his eyes go wide as he gasps, “TimTams!”

You laugh. “Yeah, could just be TimTams.”

He grins up at you, big and wide and so, so endeared. It’s a whole different side of him. You feel unbelievably proud of yourself for the idea.

Lando comes into the kitchen, hands full of bags. “Yeah, thanks, guys, we don’t need help.”

Charles is right behind him. “It’s fine, actually- hey, you bought Oscar cookies?”

Oscar hugs the package to his chest, suddenly possessive. You laugh and reach into one of the bags Lando is holding. In your hand is another package of TimTams.

“I got two of everything,” you tell Oscar. “To share and to keep.”

He smiles again, and lets the TimTams fall from his chest. “You all have to try one.”

Max gets off the phone and helps unpack things, setting out the stuff he’ll need for dinner tonight. You watch on with a fond smile as Oscar introduces all the snacks to anyone who’s willing to listen. Lando, Logan, and Charles sit with rapt attention as Oscar tells them childhood stories about all the snacks. Meanwhile, Max starts making pancake batter, and you start prepping the other ingredients.

Max elbows you lightly as the other guys laugh together. “You did good.”

You smile at him, shrugging. “We had a nice talk last night.”

Max cocks his head, smiling softly. “Before or after he tried to punch a guy out for you?”

Your face heats up at the comment, and you look away from Max and back to the food in front of you. “Last I remember, you had that guy pinned to the wall.”

Max makes a noncommittal noise. “I should’ve let Oscar punch him.”

You want to argue. To tell him that you’re not worth the trouble of that, and that he was right to tell Oscar to back off and send both of you away. But when you look up at him, the look on his face is a mixture of concern and determination. You blink, and he nudges his shoulder against yours.

“He deserved to be punched,” Max says, and you shrug. “And if you ever see him again, you call one of us. And maybe at the next party, you-“

“I’m fine,” you insist, picking up a plate and heading for the dining table. “Promise.”

More and more teammates file in, and now Lando’s the one forcing them to try TimTams, and encouraging Oscar to tell a story about being 5 and eating them in a pool, or something along those lines. You listen, even with your back turned, and hope that this helps Oscar feel a little bit more at home.

Later, after dinner, while everyone else is cleaning up, Oscar finds you in the living room. He holds out a plate. On top of it, laid out perfectly and carefully, are three TimTams.

“You didn’t try any earlier,” he says. He shifts on his feet when you take the plate. “I wanted to say thank you. Again.”

You smile up at him, laying your book on your chest. “Not a problem, Piastri. It was the least I could do, after you helped me last night.”

He frowns slightly, nose wrinkling up in mild disgust. “You know you don’t owe me for that, right?”

You nod as you pick up a TimTam off the plate. “But I can still say thank you. So. Thank you, again.”

He nods, and his face goes soft when you take a bite of the cookie and look up at him. It’s like he’s waiting with bated breath, desperate to know if you like them or not. You break out into a wide grin at the taste and nod eagerly up at him.

“Yeah, okay,” you say, eyeing the cookies on the plate. “I get the obsession.”

He laughs, nodding in agreement. One of your arms is resting on the back of the couch, and as if on reflex, he brushes his hand against yours. His skin is warm and soft. Your breath catches in your chest.

He backs away to disappear upstairs, then, with a soft “Goodnight,” that you echo, but not before you catch the tinge of red on his cheeks.

…..

In physics class on Monday, you watch Oscar waver in the doorway. He takes a stilted step towards the seat he normally sits in, across the lecture hall, and then he stops. You blink in confusion, taking a sip of coffee from your travel mug. He seems to take a breath, and then he turns- you pretend you’re not watching as he walks towards you instead. You pretend your heart isn’t racing as he walks up next to you. It shouldn’t be racing. Why is your heart racing?

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, politely, quietly, like it’s the first day of class.

You bite back a laugh when you look up at him, because his cheeks are red and he looks so, so proud of himself. “It’s open,” you say, smiling up at him.

He nods, sets his bag down on the desk, and then collapses into the chair next to you. He stares at your travel mug enviously as he slips his laptop from his bag, and you do laugh at that, at the tight furrow in his brow, at the pout on his lips. He glares at you, then, and then it all dissolves into a yawn. Something about it makes your chest ache- maybe it’s the way he pulls his hands into his hoodie sleeves. He looks like he could curl up right there and fall asleep.

“Early practice?” You ask, smiling sympathetically.

“So early,” he says, rubbing his eyes blearily. “I hate Seb.” Then he frowns, and shakes his head. “No, I don’t. But I do love sleep.”

You laugh and elbow him lightly. “I’ll bring you coffee on Wednesday. As long as you make good on your promise to help me study for this exam.”

His eyes light up, and he elbows you back, smiling brightly. “Easy trade. We’re going to get you an A+.”

You roll your eyes. Before you can respond, the professor calls the class to order, and you both open your laptops. But Oscar’s there, and he’s agreed to help you study, and when you lose your place in the notes halfway through the lecture he helps you get back on track with a sweet smile. It definitely doesn’t make butterflies swirl in your stomach.

Two days later, you walk into the kitchen, paper bag in hand, and you’re greeted with bright smiles and eager hands. Lando grabs for the bag, and Alex isn’t far behind him. Even Max, who’s cooking something on the stovetop, seems to perk up.

“Hey, hey,” you scold, snatching the bag out of their reach. “Not for you.”

Lando furrows his brows. “You’re my best friend, you show up at my house, and you have food that’s not for me?”

You shrug. “It’s for my study group,” you explain, holding the bag high above your head as you walk towards the dining room.

Oscar pops his head through the doorway and smiles at you. He takes the bag from your hand. “Hi. Ready?”

Lando blinks at the two of you in bewilderment. “Um?”

“We’re gonna get an A+ in physics,” Oscar says to Lando, drumming his free hand on the doorframe.

You scoff. “I’m unsure if that’s possible, at this point. But I’m hoping to at least pass.”

You head for the dining table and sit down. Oscar already has all his study materials spread out, so you do the same. When you look up, Lando is having some sort of almost silent conversation with Oscar, talking in hushed tones and facial expressions that do very little to tell you what’s going on. You see Oscar shake his head, then nod, then shake his head again. Max is watching them, too, in amusement. You exchange a glance with the team captain, and he shrugs. His food is burning on the stove- you can smell it. Alex’s far too calm announcement of that fact breaks up whatever was happening between Oscar and Lando.

Oscar turns back to you, brows raised. “Ready?”

Behind him, Max opens the kitchen window and waves smoke out of it.

You nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You unpack Chinese takeout containers and dish out food on plates. Oscar’s teammates wander through occasionally, sticking their heads into the dining areas to say hi and ask how things are going, but for a while, it’s just the two of you. You find that Oscar’s a great study partner. He’s kind when you ask questions, willing to explain things in a way that you understand. And, when you get bored, you have him to look at. The serious look on his face, the little furrow in his brow, the soft curve of his lips when you answer a question correctly. He’s nice to look at, that’s all.

You walk home later that night feeling better about your odds on the physics exam, and better about the whole situation with Oscar. You think you might finally be winning him over. Halfway to your apartment, you pause on the sidewalk, overlooking the campus park. It would be shorter to just cut through the park. Take the more direct route. You study it for a few moments in the hazy blue post sunset light. Then you turn down the sidewalk and continue on your original route home.

Read Part 3, Losing The Dream!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @coolmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main

crossed out blogs are ones i was unable to tag!!

#oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri friends to lovers #oscar piastri x you #Oscar Piastri x reader #Oscar Piastri series #Oscar Piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 au #Oscar Piastri au #hockey au #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 series #formula one fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #x reader #honeywrites #op81

[gothlcsan]

ESEX ; JEONG YUNHO

PAIRING non!idol yunho + afab!reader

GENRE 18+ SMUT

SYNOPSIS when you convince your boyfriend, yunho to take time away from his game to please you, both of you forgetting to turn off his headset..

WORD COUNT 2790

WARNINGS implied shower sex, dubcon (reader crawls under yunho’s desk without him knowing), chokehold (reader receiving), biting, kissing, mentions of breeding, non detailed aftercare, no protection (use protection yall), let me know if there’s more to tag!

a/n my first fic of the new year! thank you to everyone who has stuck with me throughout the year and engaged with my writing and this account overall. 🥺 id love to start 2024 with the goal of making friendships on here and writing for others so if you could share this and send any requests my way, id absolutely love it so much. happy new year everyone! much love. 🩶

Ever since you had gotten your boyfriend, Yunho, the new Spider-man two game for his playstation, he’s been a bit too occupied. You never minded when Yunho would set away time to play his games, always having an unofficial schedule of doing your own work or hobbies while he games. However, it’s been two days and the game was slowly (but quickly) getting in the way of both your relationship and life itself. He’s barely eaten, slept, and you were more than positive that the only thing he did in the bathroom was to use the toilet meaning; he was in desperate need of a shower.

Knocking on his door, you popped just your head in, having to step inside fully with a sigh seeing his gaming headset on. He was most likely playing with his friends (mentally apologizing to their partners knowing exactly what they’re going through) tapping onto his shoulder to grab his attention. Yunho blatantly ignores you, rolling your eyes as you shook his shoulder saying his name again to rob his attention from the game. This ends up with him pausing the game finally, muttering to his friends that he had to deal with something, the group groaning saying to make it quick. Turning his head he gives an annoyed, “yes?”

“Don’t be mean, Yunho. I was trying to not interrupt and ask if you wanted anything to eat but you couldn’t hear me.”

“I’m not hungry.” He goes to put the headset back on, stopping him by placing it back down onto the desk.

“Yeah see I don’t believe that because you haven’t eaten in a few days and I’m starting to get annoyed.”

Lifting up a handful of empty candy wrappers, you glare at Yunho stating candy wasn’t a nutritional meal, a pout forming on his face as he turns his hand to let the wrappers fall back onto his desk. Luckily, he was smart enough not to argue with logic.

“I’m just asking, come eat, shower, and then if you’d like to go back to gaming, cool. I hate sounding like your mum.”

Yunho blushes, apologizing as he tells everyone he’ll be back later on, saving the game before closing out of it. Standing up he feels the ache of sitting for too long, his empty stomach growling loudly as he sheepishly grabs for your hand to walk to the kitchen with you.

“You smell,” you said with a laugh, all but being dragged into the kitchen where Yunho finished multiple bowls of rice and plates of meat. You were happy to see him finally eat properly, enjoying your warm stew as he grilled more meat for the two of you to share on the portable grill.

Finishing your meal, the two of you slouch into your seats, Yunho thanking you for the meal. You laugh at him, telling him it wasn’t a problem and you were happy that he ate. Yunho excuses himself to go shower, giving you a kiss against your forehead before lightly jogging towards the direction of the bathroom. Usually you’d be bothered by having to make dinner and then clean up solo but hearing the shower finally running after a few days, you’ll happily do the majority of the work.

Placing the last of the dried dishes into the cupboards, you turn around hearing the bathroom door opening, anticipating for Yunho to come back into the kitchen (most likely to show you he showered like a puppy.) As if on cue, Yunho comes out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen in a pair of black shorts and a lavender gray sweater, towel wrapped around his neck to protect his hair from dripping onto it. Giving him a tight hug around his waist, you bury your face into his chest, inhaling his clean scent before looking up at him with a huge grin.

“You smell so good. Thank you.”

“Thank you for taking care of me.” Yunho says as he leans down and plants a kiss against your lips, walking back towards his gaming room.

“I love you!”

“I love you too, dork.” You yell back, going to your shared room to grab clothes to take your own shower.

Several hours later, you hit the realization that Yunho was still gaming.

Swiping your phone screen down, you purse your lips, seeing it was already one in the morning and Yunho was yet in bed with you. Placing your phone down next to you, you grab the collar of the baggy shirt you stole from Yunho, taking an annoyed look down at your lingerie hiding underneath the baggy fabric. It felt like a bit of a waste, becoming slightly upset by it. Deciding you weren’t going to get upset or put beneath a game, you climb out of bed making your way down the small hallway into his gaming room. Of course when you twist the doorknob and push the door open, he was sitting at his desk, headset on as he yelled at his friends who were surely doing the same to him. Letting yourself in, you stand behind him for a while knowing that he was engrossed into the game, oblivious of the fact you were positioned right behind him.

“Yunho.”

Nothing.

You nudge him a bit, “Yunho?”

Nothing. If you were a snake, he’d be bitten eons ago.

Huffing you roll your eyes, gently bending onto the floor until your hands and knees touch the carpet. Quietly, you slowly and carefully crawl against the soft carpet to make your way under the desk from the side, thanking Yunho in your head for having pristine cable management. Not wanting to ponder on the level of embarrassment you would’ve had to face if you got stuck or unplugged a cord. He still hadn’t acknowledged your existence, shrugging as you situated yourself to be directly in front of his lap, taking a deep breath before reaching for his shorts. His knee jerks, knocking his knee against the underside of the desk as he feels a tug on the band of the shorts, surprised. Yunho leans back and looks down, flinching clearly spooked when he sees you tucked under him.

“When did you get there?” He asked, confused.

“No, not you, my girlfriend. Shut up.” Yunho hollers into the headset, covering his microphone with his hand.

“You once again didn’t answer me and haven’t even got to see me in my pretty new lingerie.” You feigned a pout, yanking his shorts down.

“Babe-,” He’s cut off by you wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, glaring at him.

“It’s the least you can do, Yunho. If you want to play your game so badly, do so, but I'm using you.” You spat, watching his eyes widen and roll back as you moved your fingers up the shaft, to compare size, the tips of your fingers nowhere near close to passing the tip. He lets out a breathy sigh flinching as he mumbles a suspiciously quick “nothing” into his headset, his head falling back as you leave multiple wet opened mouth kisses up the shaft stopping around the tip.

“Is that my shirt?”

You grin widely giggling as you give him a nod.

“Mhm, I know how hard you get from seeing me in your clothes.”

Yunho must’ve forgotten his headset audio was on, groaning out a low, “fuck,” as he moved to kick off his shorts. His dick laid heavy against his abdomen and stomach, smirking pleased at his expression. Someone was desperate. Placing your hand back around him, you shift your weight so you can easily lean forward, wrapping your lips around one of his balls. Taking it into your mouth and giving it a few suctions at different pressures, Yunho groans loudly, this time a hand reaching down to lock your head into place. The twinge of pain on your scalp makes you wet in between your legs, clenching around nothing as you hum contentedly. Dropping him from your mouth with a wet pop, you fight his grip on you long enough to look at him and smile, hoping to get exactly what you want.

“Take it off.”

Removing his grip from you, he pushes back just far enough from the desk to give you space to maneuver the shirt off yourself, exposing the revealing lingerie hidden underneath. Yunho breathes deeply through his nose, feeling suddenly embarrassed by his deep fixation on you, Yunho clearly content with your choice. The black sheer lace complimented your skin, his long slender fingers reaching down to hook underneath the shoulder strap, moving alongside it until he reached the back of it - - unhooking the bra to fall onto your lap in one smooth movement. Your boobs fall from the bra, blushing as he helps you to move onto his lap, not allowing you a second to process before his large mouth is wrapped around one of your nipples.

“Yunho.” You enthusiastically moan into his ear, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck allowing your fingers to intertwine with his hair. His tongue swipes across the erected bud as he uses his hand to squeeze your boob, pushing more than just the nipple into his ravenous mouth. Your mind becomes clouded as the hand around your boob slips down your stomach until it passes the band of your thong. Long, slender fingers moving suggestively up and then back down your slit before suddenly delving two into your pussy. Clenching around the digits, you whine into Yunho’s neck who hushes you down by praising you, moving just the tips of his fingers not yet thrusting.

“Want, more,” You slur looking down at his hand, giving him an inviting kiss against his jaw that immediately turned into a soft gasp from the sudden thrust of his fingers. They felt incredibly deep already, your head leaning back to rest on his armchair, moans flooding the room. Erotically wet squelching from his fingers pushing into you makes you blush profusely, begging him to quench the fiery desire for him. Fortunately due to the fact you two haven’t had sex in the days he’s spent gaming, Yunho was more than eager to do as you wished.

“Let’s take these off, ok?”

Yanking the thong off your body and throwing thoughtlessly somewhere on to the floor, Yunho helps you up so you're comfortably positioned bent over his desk. He fixes your legs open for easier access, kissing up from the shoulder blades to the crook of your neck, giving a playful bite before refocusing his attention. Wrapping a hand around the backside of your knee, Yunho lifts your leg up, his dick sinking into you with little to no resistance. Your eyes roll up in satisfaction, wrapping your fingers around the edge of his desk to hold yourself somewhat into place, sweet moans already starting to flow past your lips. With each thrust another round of erotic noises are ripped out of you, your thoughts cloudy as you begged Yunho to never stop. He wraps his free arm around your throat, bringing you up to his chest in a chokehold. The grip was tight but gentle enough not to bring you any harm, the additional pain making you clench around him hard.

“Please, please, please,” you begged.

“Please what, hm?”

Your face burns up suddenly embarrassed giving him nothing but breathy whines that held no context.

“I asked you a question, please what?” Yunho reiterated, his grip tightening around both the backside of your knee and around your throat.

“Please breed me, I miss you.”

The entirety of your body inflamed in an instant blush, Yunho smirking as he drops his chokehold on you. You gasped for air, groaning between pursed lips as you felt Yunho’s large hands wrapped around your hips. His thrusts became sloppy but enough to hit all the right places, picking up in pace making the skin around your ass and thighs brighten to a pink. Feeling him twitched whilst inside you made your head spin in circles, it was more than evident both of you were close to your orgasms, taking in large breaths continuously begging Yunho to cum in you. Yunho’s breath warmly fanning your ear as he spoke and the weight of him being pressed against you to do so as he didn’t once slow down his thrusts into you, he bites and tugs at your earlobe before letting go.

“Should I fill you up?”

“Please, Yunho, please-“

“You’d look so cute filled by me.” Yunho cut you off, not having to see him to hear the smirk in his voice.

“Want you, please, please?”

Your eyes hooded over as he laughed over your desperation, fucking into you at a vigorous pace until his legs began to convulse and tremble.

“Fuck,” is the last word you pick up before your head fuzzes completely over, spilling around Yunho’s dick. Quiet moans are pushed out of you as Yunho reaches his climax, warmth filling you up. He slowly begins to lessen his pace, pulling back until he is almost completely out of you before pushing himself back into you balls deep. He mumbles about feeling warm but you’re unable to coherently grasp what he was saying, whining as he pulls out, clenching around nothing already missing him. You can feel your shared arousal drip down your thighs, whining for a kiss, smiling as Yunho felt your head into place to give you a loving kiss. Not caring about the sweat or anything else for that matter, you climb on top of his desk, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

The two of you spend a few minutes kissing as a way to “catch your breath,” giggling as Yunho pulls away asking how you felt. Pondering on the question with a hum, you watch his face slowly begin to switch to worry.

“I’m teasing! It felt so good, I missed you badly.” You reassured him, giving him another reassuring kiss on the lips.

Yunho begins to say something but freezes, his eyes wide in panic as he rips off his headset, leaning over you as he exited out of his game and clicked on something else you didn’t recognize. Asking him what was wrong his body simoustanly flushes a deep red, his gaze bouncing between you and the monitor.

“The game wasn’t off,” he pauses, “or the chat.”

You raise an eyebrow. “The chat?”

Yunho groans, begging you to not get mad at him, so red you were scared he’d combust into flames. Asking him again what he was talking about, his sudden concern starting to freak you out.

“The chat, as in my friends in discord, who was on call with me when you came in, heard us.. you know.”

It was your turn to turn red. You hadn’t thought about checking on that before continuing on since the two of you both were equally in the moment, hiding behind your hands in embarrassment.

“Oh my god, Yu, hopefully they didn’t listen.”

“What if they did?”

You weren’t sure why that question made your cheeks flare up the way it had, in between your legs warming and growing wet with curiosity. What if they had? Would they have stayed on and listened? Did they take their headphones off and acted as if they heard nothing? Lastly, why did the idea of someone catching you two suddenly turning you on?

Those “what ifs” ran through your mind at such a speed that made you nauseous, Yunho reassuring you it was nothing, pressing gentle kisses across your jaw and up to your lips. You decided to let it fade from your mind not wanting to overthink something so silly, allowing Yunho to pick you up off his desk bridal style heading out of the bedroom and making his way down the hallway towards the bathroom to shower together.

Now, you and Yunho had forgotten all about the mishap by the time the two of you had round two and cleaned up in the shower. However, for poor Mingi who was slumped back in his gaming chair with his arm covering his face, he was living through the shame of listening to his best friend and his girlfriend have sex. Which isn’t even the worst part of the entire situation, the brute of his embarrassment lied in the fact he had shamelessly masturbated to them. This quickly became a secret he’d have to carry to his grave with him. Groaning as he cleaned himself up, turning off his pc, and never bringing the situation up to anyone, thankful as you two never brought it up either, deciding it was best for everyone if no one acted like it happened.

#gothlcsan #smut #kpop smut #fiction #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #yunho smut #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #dom yunho #dom ateez

[suhnshinehaos]

' ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE ' | c. hansol

synopsis : the one where you get into an arranged marriage with your childhood best friend vernon, but neither of you seem to mind that much pairing : vernon x gn!reader genre/s : mini smau, non-idol au, fluff, little bit of angst

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five (finale!)

walks with hansol aren’t always silent. when they are, they’re almost always comfortable. tonight isn’t one of those nights. you always know when there’s something on his mind. you see it in the way his gaze combs through every inch of the venue grounds, each step cautious and careful. he keeps his hands behind his back as both of you walked past a wooden sign, pointing one way to a quaint little building meant for the ceremony and the reception tent. 

you head for the direction of the building.

the small building was mostly empty, except for the rows of chairs and wooden arch decorated with dried and fake flowers at the very end of the room that had been set-up earlier in the day.  both of you opted to keep the wedding small. only sending out invites to family, close friends, and — of course — business associates. 

you absently run your hand over the backs of each wooden chair as you follow hansol. he’s a few   steps ahead, but both of you make your way down the aisle. it’s only then that it finally, truly, sinks in what was going to happen tomorrow.

you’re going to marry your best friend. your hansol. your sol, with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. with the most comforting voice you’ve ever known. the same kid you’ve known before you could even walk on two feet. 

“are you sure you want to go through with this?”

his voice snaps you out of your train of thought. hansol has already reached the end of the aisle and he’s looking at you with expectant eyes. his voice is soft, hesitant, the most worried you had ever heard it. 

you don’t hide your confusion as you pick up your pace until you reach him. you raise a brow, standing just a few feet in front of him. “why are you asking me that? of course, i want to go through with it.”

you reach out, grab both of his hands, and give them gentle squeeze. hansol squeezes back, taking a deep breath, and gathering all the courage he has in himself. “you know how when we go on these late night walks, when you can’t sleep, or i get caught up in work?”

“mhmm.”

“you know the phrase i always say?”

“the moon is beautiful.” you let out a quiet exhale, recalling the words he always spoke to you. in a voice that’s tender and yet somewhat distant, as if he doesn’t want you to hear. but you always do.

and he knows that you do.

“to you, this could just be a business deal. a means to an end-”

your eyes widen, voice rising uncharacteristically as you cut him off. “that’s not how i see it at all. you know that.”

“you’re marrying your best friend.” he smiles, albeit sadly, and shakes his head immediately after. hansol lets go of your hands and lets his own fall at his sides, defeated. “it’s different for me… i’m marrying my best friend, and the love of my life.”

you feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you blink them back and you let hansol continue speaking.

“going through with this is fine by me, but i don’t want you to wake up one day and regret it. because i love you. i don’t know why, or how, but i’ve never known a day where i didn’t love you.”

the weight of his words sit heavy on your chest, and you don’t let the silence last more that a few seconds. you reach a hand towards your pockets and pull out a bracelet. “i’ve been meaning to find a way to give this to you, i was hoping to do it before the actual ceremony. this wedding has been so publicized, and i wanted to take a moment that’s just between us two. no cameras, no press, no board members.”

you take his left hand and hansol lets you place the bracelet around his wrist. it’s a simple chained gold bracelet, but threaded through the loops are strands of cotton strings from a friendship bracelet you had made him in your childhood. you smile as his eyes light up in recognition.

“where did you find this?”

“i had some help from wonwoo. it took him a while to find that. i have one with the bracelet you made me, but it’s in my room and i didn’t wear it so i don’t spoil the surprise.” you laugh, shrugging your shoulders. “i know this wedding changes a lot of things, most of which are on the business side of things. it won’t change a lot either. you know, we’re not doing rings or taking each other’s last names. it doesn’t change the fact that we will take care of each other. and it doesn’t change the fact that i’m in love with you.”

his eyes widen in shock. “but wonwoo?”

“well, since he was older, it was kind of expected that i would marry him. and i thought, if i spoke of it enough times, i could will it into existence that he was the one i had feelings for.” you sighed. “but i’m standing here with you tonight, very much in love with you, like i have been the past couple of years. and i will stand with you tomorrow, in front of our friends and family, letting everyone know that this feeling isn’t going to change.”

hansol stands there, completely and utterly speechless. but mostly because he knows mere words would never be enough to express everything that he feels for you. so instead, he pulls you in for a kiss. 

from reese, with love <3

and this ends the story of hansolyn !! they are so dear to me, thank you for joining me on this little adventure !! i hope enjoyed this story, and as always, i'd love to know what you think !! reading all your asks/rbs/replies is one of the highlights of writing these little brainrots <3 hope you're all doing well and taking care !!

ps. yes, i used 'the moon is beautiful' (pls look this up if u dont know what it means, it's v sweet hehe) as a plot moment again-- i just cant help it,, it was right there cmon sol like the sun and now we have yn and the moon sdfghjkl

#🔖 — accidentally in love! #seventeen x reader #vernon x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen smau #seventeen sm aus #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt smau #vernon imagines #vernon fluff #vernon smau

[nicromancytarot]

YOUR DAILY ROUTINE 5 YEARS FROM NOW

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel like the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to pick another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what your daily routine looks like in 5 years time, pick a card to find out what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

DISCLAIMER: the timelines I give are not the period as a whole, they are just an estimate of the time when these events could happen.

PILE 1

7:00-7:30am: Wake up, I got the lyric “7am the usual morning line up” from “When will my life begin?” Rapunzel, so you guys are waking up early. The first thing you do is either feed your pets or children, I’m getting heavy dogs for those of you who don’t have kids by this time, but I am seeing a lot of children vibes.

8:00-900am: Showering and getting ready, if you have kids, your partner will be up and looking after them for you, or this will be the time you take them to school. I feel like you’ll be listening to podcasts or ted talks every morning to get you ready for the day.

9:30-10:00am: Checking emails? You might be working from home and checking your emails or messages from clients or employers. I see you sat at your desk with a warm cup of something, going through things on your computer, your partner walks in and lets you know that they’re leaving for work now.

10:30-11:30am: Work work work, you guys will find yourself dealing with a lot of work during this time, however I do think that you make money by the hour, some of you could have a job that ensures you get paid separately by each client (like Tarot or something)

12:00-1:00pm: Making lunch for your partner, you guys will either go out to buy it and then drop it by their work, or you will make it yourself so that it feels special. Some of you could be seen as the “trophy spouse” when it comes to your partners work, they all think you’re a doll and are probably jealous of the food that you bring for your partner.

1:30-2:00pm: You can do whatever you want, this is your break time to go shopping or chill on the couch and watch your favourite show, I see that this changes often so you may like to do different things during this break, it’s not something that is set in stone forever.

2:00-3:00pm: Back to work, I feel this is when you do your best and most progressive work, some of you may be balancing another online job like authoring or possibly being a ghost writer for someone else. This is the time when you would absolutely hate to be distracted or interrupted.

3:00:3:30pm: Your final time to rest up before having to pick up the kids or take your dogs on a walk. During this time you might make yourself a snack, tidy the house (although I feel like you guys have a cleaner)

3:30-4:00pm: Little bit of a messy thirty minutes, you’re rushing around, which is why I think kids could be involved here, the school pick up is never easy lmao. For those of you who don’t have kids, this may just be you being dragged around the street by your dogs (I think they are large)

4:30-5:00pm: Your partner is home! You are also probably dealing with your children fighting during this time LMAOO, one of them wants the TV remote and the other is pissed. This could also be your time to catch up with your partner and tell each other about your day.

5:00-6:00pm: Dinner time, I do think you’ll be the one making dinner, but you definitely want to, sometimes your partner helps you out, but since you did the school run both ways, they’re looking after the kids for you now. You spend a while on cooking, you may even get it prepared around lunch time, throwing some meat in the slow cooker for later.

6:00-7:00pm: wind down time with family, chilling on the couch with the pets, watching as the kids play on the trampoline outside, relaxing in the arms of your significant other. Very calm energy for this.

7:30pm-9:30pm: The battle of the demons, time to put the kids to bed! The kids don’t like going to bed. “But I went to sleep yesterday!” You’ll have a field trip with these.

10:00pm-12:00am: You wanna get spicy with your partner? You can, here’s your opportunity. I do see you guys trying to make another kid around this time if you already have them, or perhaps this is your first. Relaxing in bed with your significant other, I’m seeing someone counting 100 dollar bills, so take that as you will, you may even take a shower together to end the night, or possibly getting wet in other ways is your way to close the day.

PILE 2

5:00-6:00am: Wake up. You guys may have to commute to work, and need to wake up early, for some of you, your work could be over seas, like if you lived in Paris but commuted to London for work everyday using the tunnel, or if you lived on the Isle Of White in the UK and needed to travel on a ferry to get to your job, either way, you’re waking up before the sun rises.

7:00-9:00am: Work, you’re at work for the majority of the day now, your job itself seems something that you’re used to and like doing, a lot of you may have to coordinate meetings, so you could be a higher up. There does seem to be a tad of stress here and there, for a few this may be caused by need of public speaking, for others there could be workplace drama.

10:00am-4:00pm: The people around you look up to you a lot, you may own a company or share management of it, there is a possibility of you working in something which involves fighting, a few of you may be in the army, and this could be the cause for the early wake up and start to the day. Either way, whatever you’re doing, you are the head of it, people have to work with you in order to climb the ranks and better improve their chance of success. You could honestly be in control of pay upgrades and promotions for your business or workplace. I see you making a lot of money by having a lot of control.

5:00-6:00pm: Home time, I see you making dinner or possibly even ordering out, although I do think that you have a healthy diet and lifestyle. A few of you could have your own cook, or utilise certain artificial intelligence that makes food??? (I don’t know bro, my guides seem to think that could be a thing of the future, you could have an online recipe book that you follow)

7:30-10:00pm: Resting up or doing whatever you want. I can’t get a strong read on this as I think it changes each day, you could sometimes go on a run, other time you’re baking cookies on call with your mother. I do think you have a strict schedule you follow when it becomes time to go to bed, you sleep like a log lmao. Some of you may be looking for a relationship at this time, and this could be the entry period for going on dates, perhaps you go on multiple dates a night lol, you seem to be the life of the party either way. A lot of you don’t drink, I see someone at a bar holding a juice box so take that as you will.

Sorry it was so short pile 2! Your day is much more put together and scheduled.

PILE 3

4:00-9:00am: If you have a young baby at this time, you may immediately go to nursing them as soon as you wake up, it honestly could even be that you’ve woken up early morning, your partner comes over to your side of the bed holding the baby, hands it to you. I do see a lot of stress around this time, so honestly I think the majority, if not all of you will have kids in five years time.

7:00-9:00am: I see you spending this time laying in your bed with your partner, possibly the kids have joined you now and you’re all just relaxing watching some TV for the few hours that you have until the morning begins and you need to get up and ready. For the few of you who may not be in a relationship or have kids, this could be a pet perhaps that you are spending the early morning with.

8:00-10:00am: You’re getting out of bed around this time and heading to the kitchen to get some breakfast started, you may have time to take a quick shower around this time, your partner will be looking after the kids, getting them all ready for the day so they can come and eat breakfast in time when it’s made.

8:30-9:00am: Some big change happens around this time, it may be that the kids are taken to school, or you perhaps take them to school. I’m seeing that this is the moment you begin your work for the day, I’m not too sure if you leave the house for it, I think so, as it does seem that there’s a change of scenery.

10:00am-12:00pm: This time is spent getting everything together for your job, I am seeing someone grabbing some coffee, if you work a corporate job, you’ll be getting yourself and some other people some coffee, collecting papers to make sure all your paperwork is complete. Some of you could be a therapist, psychologist or something to do with examining people, this is when you grab all your stuff to prepare for your clients, possible meetings etc.

12:00-1:00pm: A lot of teamwork around this time, this will be your first meeting of the day, first client, first job that you are supposed to complete. I see a need to write down a lot of stuff, you may even have a meeting presentation during this hour. Your lunch time may appear late, you perhaps have a job that runs over the normal lunch hour, so you go on your break in the next 1-2 hours.

2:00-3:00pm: Lunch time, I feel like you will leave your work building to go and buy lunch elsewhere, or perhaps your partner will bring you lunch themself, you might even order it into your section. You could be getting paid this time everyday, or you may count up your money for the day at this point.

3:30-4:00pm: You get to decide what you do here, I think sometimes you get the opportunity to go home at this time, other days you have to stay a little later, I think it depends on your schedule and the day of the week.

5:00-6:00pm: You get home during this period, I see there possibly being some time for you to relax and so what you want, before your partner and kids come home, some of you may have family around at this time each day? Or perhaps you live with extended family members and they will be making dinner for you, or getting some things done.

7:00pm-12:00am: A lot of you honestly could have family helping around the house, or perhaps you even have personal butlers, I don’t see you having to do much when it comes to making dinner, getting the kids to bed or anything, I see that you’ll be working hard on some paperwork that needs finishing, or getting your schedule ready for tomorrow, you’ll mainly be focusing on your work during this period too, I feel like you like to be prepared. You may get intimate with your partner during this time, I don’t see it lasting for too long as I think they go to bed earlier than you.

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #free tarot #tarot witch #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile

[moonstruckme]

hi mae !! im currently in love with eddie, so i was wondering if you could write an eddie x fem!reader drabble, where they're in a long distance relationship and are finally getting to see each other in person again after a while of being apart? if isnt something youre interested in, i understand :))

Hi gorgeous, thank you for requesting!!

cw: mention of weed (Eddie deals but they're not smoking)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 708 words

Eddie likes to think of himself as erring on the wild side, but you know he sticks to his routines the same as a crotchety old man. And even though he’s graduated from high school, he still deals to a few of the kids he knew when he was there. You’re lucky; you step into the woods behind the school right as the buyer is leaving, a scraggly kid whose head bobs as he walks and who looks at you like you might go tattle to his parents. You’re too excited to take offense. 

Eddie’s still sitting at his picnic table, one leg hiked up on the bench like he’s thinking of climbing up, closing the clasps of the tin lunchbox he keeps his stash in. He doesn’t startle as you come up behind him, just turns with a half interested look in his eyes. 

A laugh bubbles out of you when they widen comically. 

“Hey,” you say, picking up your pace to cross the distance to him. 

“Holy fuck.” Eddie nearly trips getting out of his seat. He leaves the lunchbox behind. “Jesus, what the fuck?” 

“Glad to see you too,” you laugh, putting your arms around him. 

And you know from experience that Eddie’s a fantastic hugger, but this one is a bit of a scramble. He’s rushed, greedy, hands starting at your sides and then wriggling their way across your back until he’s got you where he wants you. Pulled tight against him with his arms banded across the high and low points of your back, face pressed into your shoulder, your feet still touching the ground but just barely. The whole production makes your chest hurt, a gratifying ache.

“What are you doing here?” It sounds almost like an accusation, muffled affectionately into the material of your shirt. 

You can’t stop giggling. Eddie’s hair tickles your nose. “Crazy thing,” you reply, “they actually let us have summers off.” 

Eddie’s funny in that he almost never asks the right questions. The last time you’d seen him had been during winter break, and when you’d gone back to school and been calling every night, he only asked about your life there. Always what you were doing and how much fun you were having, infinitely sweet in his support of your college experience even if he couldn’t share in it, and in his curiosity he’d somehow forgotten to wonder when you might be coming home again. 

“Okay, smartass.” He gives you a happy little squeeze. “How long do I get you for?” 

“Until August.” 

Eddie makes a delighted moaning sound that sets your giggles off all over again. 

“Yes.” His tone evokes the feeling of a fist-pump without the follow-through of the actual motion, but his hands slip from around you. He grabs your face and kisses you hard. “Fuck yeah!” 

You’re grinning massively as you meet him kiss for kiss, arms crawling up around his shoulders. 

“Best. Surprise. Ever.” He holds you still for a series of quick pecks, deviating from your lips to kiss your cheek, your nose. “Shit, is it, like, super unromantic if I start taking your clothes off?” 

“Kinda,” you say, though you don’t deny him when one of his hands slips down to paw at your ass. “We’re maybe fifty feet from a high school right now.” 

“Mhm, mhm, but hear me out.” Eddie’s words are interspersed with little suctioning sounds, his lips planting themselves eagerly upon any bit of you they can find. “Back when we went here, that would have been the hottest thing, you know? We can even go under the bleachers if you want.” 

You don’t open your eyes, but they’re rolling. “My ovaries are quaking.” 

Eddie groans low in his throat and squeezes your ass teasingly. “So stubborn.” 

“We can go back to your place,” you offer. 

“No, no.” He sighs, heavy and dramatic. “We’d have to drive, and I’m not ready to be across a console from you yet.” Eddie backs you up until your backside hits the picnic table, helping you up and positioning himself between your legs. His arms wrap around you again, half makeout and half hug. “Let’s stay here for a while. Wouldn’t be able to focus on the road anyway.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x self insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one shot #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fandom #stranger things x reader

[nxuvillette]

LOST IN TIME — WRIOTHESLEY

synopsis: you and wriothesley’s relationship ended years ago. neither of you thought you’d ever see each other again, until one night you both meet after years of being apart.

❥ pairings : wriothesley x fem!reader

❥ note : sorry for the inactivity !! i was kind of going through a slump, but i’m hopefully gonna start returning to a regular schedule. i hope you guys enjoy this !! reblogs are appreciated <3.

content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, mentions of childhood trauma (wriothesley), high school relationships (they’re both adults when meeting again !), alcohol consumption, breakups, some angst, fluff, car sex, creampie, use of pet names (baby , good girl), ex!wriothesley, vanilla sex.

You were never the type to dwell on the past. Whatever happened back then happened, and there was no way for you to control it. Time kept moving and it wouldn’t pause for you whatsoever. It was something everyone was told to move on from. 

However, you couldn’t exactly move on from one thing in your past.

Your ex, Wriothesley.

You and Wriothesley met when you were both in high school. Neither of you were in great headspace at the time, so you two connected over the fact that you were dealing with lots of pain during that time period. He wasn’t exactly the most responsible student. He often showed up late, talked back to adults, and he gained many enemies from his impressive stature. He was intimidating. Even you felt a bit of fear whenever he walked into a classroom, but he turned out to be a really nice guy. He sat next to you in your algebra class and asked you for a pencil since he came to school without his backpack. You gave him one and then ended up chatting towards the end of the period about school and other random things.

A lot of your friends questioned why you of all people spoke to Wriothesley. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who would speak to girls like you. You had perfect attendance, good grades, and a pretty decent friend circle. He was the opposite of you.

Eventually, those platonic feelings turned into romantic ones the more you got to know him. Wriothesley confided in you about many things pertaining to his home life. He was in and out of foster care due to his parents passing early on in his childhood, and it led to him being moved around a lot. He wasn’t exactly good at making friends because a lot of them came from these perfect homes. None of them would understand that feeling or his story. Although you couldn’t understand it either, you tried your best to see things through his lense. There was a reason he acted the way he did. 

You two then began dating a few months later. It was a perfect relationship. He treated you better than any ex of yours would, and he made you feel safe around him. He was somebody you could rely on. Despite many people frowning upon it, you never listened to their opinions. Wriothesley was someone you thought was your soulmate. It was young love, but to you, it was everything you ever wanted.

However, you did have some problems in your relationship.

You and Wriothesley had many arguments during your time dating. Sometimes he didn’t care for himself and he would miss school to do god knows what. You wanted him to do better for himself, but it didn’t seem like he was taking you as seriously as you thought he would. It would always end with him apologizing and buying you flowers or taking you out for a date to make up for the harsh words thrown around. He didn’t like fighting with you. He knew you wanted the best for him. He just had a hard time committing to the things he had promised to you. 

He always thought you two would date for a while, but that was until your senior year. At that point, you two had been dating for almost two years. Things weren’t bad, if anything, it was a lot better than it was early on. Neither of you considered your relationship to be toxic by any means. 

Unfortunately, things did come to an end.

You knew that you and Wriothesley were on two completely different paths in life. You wanted to go off to college and begin a career, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life. There wasn’t an issue with that, but you had a lot of doubt that the relationship would even work with the distance and your differences. Having to break up with him was one of the most difficult things you had to do. 

Wriothesley honestly didn’t understand why you wanted to leave him. You were absolutely everything to him, and he never was one to treat you poorly. However, he also knew that your feelings about it were valid. He didn’t know if he could handle a long distance relationship and you honestly deserve someone better than him. In a way, he knew he was dragging you down in life. He was the one blocking your way of becoming the absolute best, so he took the break up respectfully. He would always love you no matter what, and that’s what he told you. You didn’t think you would take it as hard as you did, but you knew it was for the better. 

As the years went on, you slowly forgot about your relationship with him. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to process while in college, but you often distracted yourself by going out with your roommate and other friends you made along the way. Soon enough, it was a thing of the past. 

It wasn’t until you came home to see your parents that all of the memories came flowing back to you.

You and your roommate had decided to move into an apartment close to your university, so you weren’t home as often as you normally would be. When you came by to visit, everything felt so nostalgic to you. You hadn’t been in your hometown for a little while and you weren’t sure where to even begin. 

You don’t know how you ended up at the bar just ten minutes away from your home. It wasn’t exactly packed for a Thursday evening, so you didn’t have to worry about weirdos at the bar hitting on you. You were sitting on your own, sipping on a random cocktail the bartender had made for you. Your mind wandered to many thoughts that only crossed when you were intoxicated. Your past, random embarrassing moments you wished you didn’t let happen, and your ex boyfriend from when you were in high school. 

You disliked that you thought about Wriothesley more than you should have. You two had broken up years ago. Why would you still have these thoughts about him? Maybe you could blame it on the fact that you hadn’t exactly had the best luck with romance while in college. There was no other man who was interested in you like Wriothesley was. Most of the men around you were only looking for something short term, or just a quick fuck that wouldn’t mean anything at the end of the day. It was honestly a shame, but you shouldn’t have had such high expectations. Maybe you were a fool. 

You didn’t pay much attention to the presence that had appeared next to you. You assumed it was some random person who needed a drink just like you did. 

“Yeah, whiskey and coke, please.”

Your heart stopped when you heard the smooth voice speak beside you. A part of you didn’t wanna believe there was a possibility he was here after just thinking about him, but could luck be on your side? It took a lot of courage, but you eventually turned your head to place your eyes on the man beside you. There he was. Your ex, Wriothesley was sitting right beside you. You weren’t sure if you should even speak up and talk to him. Neither of you had crossed paths in years and you didn’t know if he would even want to talk to you. 

It didn’t take long for him to notice your staring, and soon enough, Wriothesley’s eyes made contact with yours. You never forgot the color of his ice blue eyes. He looked much older than he did before, obviously, but he seemed more mature. His body also seemed a lot more bulky than it was back in high school. Despite that, his scars still remain etched into his skin as permanent reminders of his past. 

“(Y/N)..?” your name left his lips in a whisper, seemingly shocked by your presence. 

You felt your heart rate begin to speed up from seeing his face. You didn’t think he would stay, but he sat there in his seat like a deer in headlights. You weren’t sure how to even respond. It was awkward. “H-Hi.. Wriothesley..” you said, trying to ease the awkward tension in the air. It felt so uncomfortable, but you didn’t want to leave. 

Wriothesley blinked, trying to take in the realization that you were sitting right in front of him. He hadn’t seen you in years. He vaguely recalled going to your home the day you left for college. He felt like shit knowing you were gone and he couldn’t say what he wanted to. It had been so long. It was like you were a completely different person, but at the same time he recognized you. He thought you were still as beautiful as you were the day he first laid his eyes on you. “Hey.. how are you? It’s been a while..” he turned his body to face you, giving you the chance to see his physical changes.

You laughed through your nose. Relief washed over you when you saw his soft smile appearing on his face. You thought he would just walk away, considering you were the one who broke up with him. “I’m good! How about you?” you asked, sipping your drink to try and calm your nerves.

He honestly was sitting there in disbelief. He didn’t think he’d ever have the chance to speak to you again. “I’m doing alright, haha! How has college been for you?” he questioned, nodding his head.

The conversation between you felt so weird. It was like you two were strangers, but at the same time you knew so much about one another. There was a time in your life where Wriothesley played such a significant role through your teenage years. You didn’t wanna see it that way, but it was difficult knowing there was so much that you missed. Did he ever get away from foster care? He was now over eighteen, so it’s not like he could be cared for anymore by a random family. Did he pursue his dreams of becoming involved in law enforcement? There were so many questions you had yet to be answered. 

Wriothesley revealed so much to you. He spoke about how he was able to go and apply to be a security guard at one of the clubs downtown, and with that money he managed to move out and get his own place. He seemed to be doing so much better in life than he was when you first met. He had somewhat of a personality shift as well. There was more maturity in his words and he listened more than he would talk. He was happy you were doing good in life. He wanted nothing but the best for you ever since you two had broken things off.

The evening hours crept up on you two, and the bar had become a little busier than it normally was. The alcohol in your veins also made you loosen up around Wriothesley. He felt the same way, but he was a little more sober than you were. He had a better grip on himself. It was honestly really nice to catch up with you. He really missed you. He didn’t like admitting it to others, but he often yearned to see your face walking around town. There was so much he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure how to put it into words without sounding weird or making things awkward. 

“Do you need a ride home..?” he downed the rest of his drink within his glass. The last thing he wanted was for you to go home being slightly intoxicated and on your own. 

You hesitated for a second. You didn’t want to give the wrong idea to Wriothesley, but there was the part of you that would feel a lot safer if he was around you. “S-Sure!” you replied, picking up your things off of the table in front of you.

Wriothesley stood up, leaving cash for both of your drinks which you didn’t expect. Standing beside him made you feel somewhat embarrassed. It was like he grew overnight with how broad his body had become over the years. You never thought he would be the type to work out. He talked about it a little while back, but the way he looked now was insane to you. 

The two of you left the bar and entered outside. The air nipped at your skin from the slight chill that was in the atmosphere. Wriothesley walked over to his car that was parked in the lot. It was a really nice one, too. You pulled open the passenger side door and climbed in, getting hit with the strong aroma of his cologne that lingered around his vehicle. Once he climbed in, he glanced at you briefly. It almost seemed like he wanted to say something to you, but he decided not to at the last minute.

The car ride back was quiet. Neither of you spoke, and you honestly thought that’s where it would end. 

But, it didn’t.

Once he arrived outside of your house, there was something brewing between you two that was bound to burst at any moment. You didn’t know if maybe it was his cologne or how the alcohol made you bolder, but clearly there was something going on and both of you seemed a little hesitant to make a move.

However, that didn’t last long, because Wriothesley was the one who planted a kiss on your lips. 

It felt so familiar to you. Every little memory from your relationship played in your mind, making you recall things you thought you had forgotten. You missed it all. You missed his touch, his kisses, his hair that your nails used to dig into when you would make out, the way he would nibble at your neck to turn you on. It didn’t take long for you to end up on his lap with his hands all over your body. His kisses were rough, but passionate at the same time. It brought you back to the many times you two would make out in your bedroom while your parents were out of the house. God, you missed those days. Everything was so much more simple back then. 

Wriothesley’s hands lifted up your skirt, squeezing the plush of your ass. He remembered every little part of your body. He knew you so well. It didn’t matter how long you two had been apart. “Fuck.. I’ve missed you so much..” he whispered against your lips. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to go and find you..”

A whimper came from your lips when you felt his hardened cock brush against your clothed pussy. There was a part of you that wondered if you should actually be doing this. You two were ex’s. You were meant to be apart, but there was just so much about Wriothesley that you craved. He was practically your first everything back then, and those things are hard to just forget. “Missed you more, Wrio..” you panted, looking into his eyes. “Please.. I need you.”

He was a bit taken back when you guided his hand to your soaked underwear. His dick practically twitched when he made contact with your arousal. He remembered how easy it was to get you riled up. It seemed like that didn’t change at all. 

He wasted no time and pushed your panties aside to begin rubbing your clit. Your hand flew to hold onto his muscular shoulders. It felt so good. His fingers were all too familiar to you, and you loved it more than anything else. Wriothesley then pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. He swallowed every one of your pretty moans that kept leaving your throat. He just couldn’t get enough of you. 

Wriothesley’s hand left your clit several seconds later. His fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt. You could tell he was rushing. “I need you now.” he looked at you then down at his pants where he began to pull them off.

You watched as his cock sprang out of his boxers. The tip was leaking precum. You somewhat forgot how big he was. The girth was quite large and his size was one that you thought you wouldn’t be able to take the first time. 

He placed his forehead against yours while his tip glossed over your wet cunt. You moaned in pleasure when he made contact with your sensitive bud. “Are you sure you wanna do this..?” he was breathing heavily, showing just how desperate he was for you. “We don’t have to.. but I just need to know now.”

You nodded almost immediately. “Y-Yes! Please, Wriothesley, I can’t wait anymore..” you begged, grinding your hips against him.

Wriothesley didn’t hesitate before pushing his cock into you. Both of you let out loud noises at the sensation of being in each other’s embrace. It had been so fucking long since you felt Wriothesley inside of you. He was stretching you out completely. There was this burning feeling, but you didn’t mind it all. It quickly faded to pleasure the moment he started moving his hips into you. His hands went to your waist where he started guiding you. There was nobody else like you. He loved you. It didn’t matter how far you went, Wriothesley always had that love for you. He knew it sounded dumb to be still thinking about his teenage love, but there was so much about you he just couldn’t get over.

It didn’t take long for him to find your g-spot. He could see in your expression how good you felt when he kissed it with his tip. You could hardly believe this was happening. You never thought you would be able to have sex with him again, but you had zero regrets in your mind about it. 

Your fingers laced into his onyx colored hair. You were so lost in bliss. He was better than any lame college hookup you had before. Part of you questioned why you even decided to leave him at the time. Sure, you two were on different wavelengths in life, but he was still a great guy regardless. He treated you like a princess. He never made you feel insecure or unwanted. He was perfect. “W-Wrio..! Yes, yes! Feels so good!” you cried, digging your nails into his scalp.

His grip on you tightened as you kept moaning for him. It was like he was reliving a dream he had. You were so beautiful. He didn’t wanna keep missing you anymore. “Yeah, you like it, baby? I missed you so bad.. I never stopped waiting for you, (Y/N). ‘M always gonna love you..” he captured your lips in another kiss that left you breathless. 

Your cheeks turned hot when he said those words to you. You thought after all of this time Wriothesley would hate you for breaking up with him. There was doubt in your mind that he would even wanna see you again, but hearing that he still loved you made you feel relieved. You still loved him too. “Missed you more.. Wriothesley! I love y-you!” you made eye contact with him. 

He was surprised to hear that you felt the same towards him. He assumed for so long you had moved on and found somebody else while you were in university. Somebody that was better than him in many aspects. Nonetheless, he didn’t care to question you. You of all people would never lie to Wriothesley, so he trusted your words more than anything else. 

Without warning, Wriothesley’s pace picked up. His balls began to smack against your puffy clit. Your vision grew hazy from the amount of pleasure that was rushing through your body. The pit in your belly was growing deeper, implying your orgasm was on the brink of reaching you. Wriothesley could sense it, too. Your pussy was squeezing his cock so hard that he thought it would be difficult for him to even think about pulling out of you. There was so much you two had to make up for. 

“Wriothesley.. I’m gonna cum!” your hands gripped his shoulders. 

His larger hand went around your throat. You could hear the way he was grunting. It sounded so erotic. “C’mon, baby, cum all over my dick..” he said, his voice sounding deep. “Be a good girl..”

Your cunt then clamped around his cock. A deep groan rumbled in his throat as he felt his own high reach him. His cum filled your womb, making you shiver from the warmth that was spreading from your belly. You could hardly keep yourself upwards from how tired your body was. You felt yourself slumping against him. 

His arm went to wrap around your waist, placing his chin atop of the crown of your head. He honestly missed nights like these, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away ever again.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ official work ! #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley smut

[vrisrezis]

need a part 2 for the atsv love triangle where the reader is actually in love with them and after they get together they tell them about their alter ego 😩

Your wish is my command y’all!

Gwen is was carrying you, bridal style, swinging away with you in her arms. Not that you knew it was gwen anyway. Spiderwoman, upon meeting you, often decided to take you home as a means of protection, because for some reason you decided walking home in the middle of the night was a swell idea. She offered to swing you home as a result. If you didn’t know any better though, you’d say it was because she loved flirting with you so much. She never denied it when you brought it up. Honestly, she’s just not used to such a flustered look on your face, she can’t help herself. Though she does secretly envy how the real her can’t manage you make you all shy and embarrassed like that.

Today though, you seemed rather… off. Something was bothering you, and she could tell. Nothing seemed off at school, so she figured something had to have happened. “What’s got you so upset?” she questions before dropping down on top the roof of a building. “Somebody I gotta knock some sense into?” she asks, putting you down to stand next to her, looking at the scenery before you, it was nice out today. You smile, but even that feels forced. She can’t help but frown under the mask and the worry she carries is radiating off of her. You shake your head, “it’s nothing to worry about” you say before shrugging, “just normal highschool stuff.”

“What does that mean?” she inquired, and you sigh, albeit rather dramatically.” “It’s so stupid.” You admit, but before you can assure you it probably isn’t, you continue “there’s just this girl I really like. More than like. I think I love her.”

As soon as those words come out of your mouth, she feels her heart drop. Girl? Was it her? Spiderwoman? Or some other girl at school? You didn’t talk to many people aside from her, who could it possibly be?

“O-oh..” she says, looking down for a moment. She hopes you don’t hear the crack in her voice. She can’t help her curiosity, she needs to know. “Well.. who is it?” she says, trying to recover as quickly as possible. She nudges you with her elbow, “need to know if they’re good enough for you or just some tool.”

You laugh, and give her a smile. “Her names… gwen..”

“G-gwen?!” she shrieks out, her body stiffening. You don’t seem to notice.

“Yeah.. gwen… gwen stacy…”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, but she eventually grabs onto your shoulder.

“Y/n…”

“Yeah?” you ask, confused for a moment, before you see her pull at her mask. Your eyes widen, and you suddenly feel a wash of shame upon seeing who’s under the mask.

However, she gives you a smile.

“I… love you too… by the way..”

Miles had a very simple plan, no big deal at all. All he had to do was confess he was in love with you and then eventually down the line if it works out in his favor, confess to being spiderman. No big deal…..

Or should he do it in the opposite order?

And should he still confess to being spiderman if you two end up staying friends when you reject him?

He has a lot of questions racking his brain, and to be fair he doesn’t think it’s completely unreasonable. Maybe he should’ve told you from the start. Would you even be accepting? Supportive? He’s been lying to you for a whole ass year now, you were kind, but were you that kind? He feels like there’s just no way, right? Then again, you never failed to surprise him.

He doesn’t have time to think about these questions any longer though, as he hears chaos going on outside. Not the normal kind of chaos, this was his cue.

His confession would have to wait a little longer.

—

He’s quick to his feet. Not that spiderman didn’t give it his all when it came to saving civilians, but he saw you in the fray. He bounces from building to building, webbing civilians to safety along the way, he sees you fall and he’s never jumped so fast in his life.

He reaches his hand out to yours, and finally you’re able to grab on and he’s able to pull you into his arms, picking you up bridal style all while in the air.

“We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this..” miles mutters to you, and you chuckle lightly. “Yeah well..” she look off to the side, before looking back at him. “You could always take me on a date, miles.”

Miles?

Date?

“Excusemewhatnow?”

as soon as he lands, you manage to escape his grip. Maybe it was because he was so caught off guard, since normally escaping his grasp was near impossible.

“We’ll talk later!”

You were going to be the death of him.

Hobie had enough.

If you weren’t going to figure this out on your own, he was gonna have to tell you.

I mean seriously, he loves you but you are so clueless sometimes and he genuinely wonders if you admire spiderpunk so much that you don’t want to consider he could be your best friend. He wonders if he’s being selfish and if this ruins the imagination for you but at this point he’s too pent up to even care, something he isn’t used to being. He’s typically so honest about the way he feels, never holding anything back. This should be no different.

He leaves his bag zipper carelessly open, in hopes you find it. And you do. He’s busy cleaning up his guitar, but he sees you look at him, then look back at the spider suit in the corner of his eye.

But you say nothing.

You go on about your day like you didn’t just see that.

Is he the one being played?

He eventually decides he needs to simply confront you. There’s no way around it. So he does.

It’s one of those many nights where you two are hanging out, as friends do. You’re both lying on his bed, side to side, he’s writing a song, you’re reading a comic book. He turns over on his right side to look at you, and you do the same on your left side. “Hey.” he whispers, “hey yourself.” you whisper back with a smile. He rolls his eyes.

Just be cool, man. He tells himself.

“You know..” he starts slowly, a bit unsure of the next words that will come out of his mouth, “you know I’m spiderman, right?”

He doesn’t have time to dwell on just how casual that was, to drop some information like that so simply. Then again, he did that constantly. This felt so different though.

“Yeah..” you let out a sigh, and hobie realizes that you really were playing with him the whole time. But before he can rely, you say “you know I’m in love with you, any version of you, right?”

He feels his heart stop for a moment, but he gives no indication that he’s flustered by your words.

“About damn time you said somethin, darlin”

Pavitr thinks about it, over and over and over and over and ov-

He just doesn’t know how to tell you he’s spiderman. He’s been so buys living the life as spiderman, it felt so simple, so easy. Go to school, beat up some bad guys, take some breaks to see you and his auntie, go back to fighting, come home. It was the same everytime and he didn’t seem bored of it, yet.

He hadn’t really gotten to see the consequences of being spiderman.

And then he did, when he nearly lost you. He was only able to save you because miles, gwen, and hobie were there to help him.

And from then on he knew he couldn’t lie to you anymore.

Things have been.. weird lately, to say the least. Some weird ass dark black abyss in the middle of mumbattan left many civilians curious, including yourself.

Though Pavitr felt like he could explain those bits later, he knew he just needed to tell you what was on his mind.

Because he and you both knew, he had something to say.

Spending time in your room wasn’t a rare occurrence but Pavitr found himself doing it a lot more lately, which in your opinion was good given how busy he’s been lately. You figured he must’ve been freaked out by mumbattan nearly falling apart at the seams, and you tried to be there for him. He made it clear he was there for you, too.

“Y/n I have to tell you something.” he says, turning to look at you.

You look back at him, knowing this would be a serious conversation. He never called you by your actual name, usual nicknames. You nod and place your hand on top of his, and you give him one of your warm smiles. He feels heat rush to his cheeks, but for once he doesn’t let his nerves stop him. He moves his hand to intertwine your fingers together, “I’m…” there’s a pause, and you figure you have to assure him you know.

“You’re spiderman?” you ask, and there’s a moment he looks at you, shocked. His mouth is agape, and you can’t help but smirk. “You know?!” you scoff, “yeah of course I know pav I’m not an idiot!” you say with a laugh, and a lot of his tension dissipates before he remembers what he wants to tell you.

“Well.. while that is true, that isn’t what I was gonna tell you.”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised, you raise a brow. “Yeah?”

He takes a moment, before blurting it out.

“I’minlovewithyou!” the words all come out jumbled at once and he almost considered repeating himself before you give him a kiss on the cheek. “In love with you too, pav. But I also knew that already.” you say cheekily, “what?! How?!” “You’re not exactly subtle” you shrug.

“Can I have any victory today? Can we start over and you just pretend you didn’t know?”

you smile and shake your head, and he groans.

But honestly, the only reason he’s being so silly right now is so he doesn’t absolutely melt into your hands like putty over the fact you kissed him on the cheek.

#pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr x reader #pavitr x y/n #pavitr x you #atsv x y/n #atsv x you #atsv x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #miles x y/n #miles x you #hobie brown x reader #hobie x y/n #hobie x reader #gwen x reader #gwen stacy x reader #spiderwoman x reader #spidergwen x reader