#and i have thought about all of these and why they fit and no you cannot change my mind!!!!

[reverieblondie]

Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X AFAB!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.   

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.” 

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that…his….yearbook…

It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 

“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment. 

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 

“Miggy~”     

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 

“Well…technically…I didn’t” 

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 

Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man. 

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment. 

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods 

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!” 

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 

“It’s like density!” 

Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 

“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap. 

The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”

Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!” 

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?” 

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shakes through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 

“Miguel, I like the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t have run away…” 

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, like when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat. 

“I thought you were sweet…” 

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 

“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 

“Miggy, I always like you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your licks isn’t lost on him. 

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly creases up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and crease his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick. 

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 

“So eager, Miggy~” 

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 

“Good…” 

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 

“Miggy, about time you asked…” 

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

#across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel 2099 #miguel smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel o hara #miguel spiderman #atsv smut #miguel atsv #atsv #atsv fanfiction #spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x afab!reader #spiderman across the verse

[starryeyedjanai]

Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.

The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.

He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.

He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.

He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.

Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.

The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.

He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.

When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).

Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.

Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.

He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.

“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”

Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”

His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.

In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.

“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”

“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.

When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”

Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”

“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”

“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.

There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.

Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”

Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.

“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.

#steddie #stranger things #janai.doc

[rxzennia]

hibernation/ brumation

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 winter dormancy.

in his five years of being your boss, aventurine hasn’t ever seen you send in a request for leave. but here he is, staring at your application for a month-long vacation.

a month? isn’t that a little too long?

you didn’t even stick a little comment about where you’re going or what’s happening, dammit! he wants to know so bad, but he feels like he’ll either overstep his boundaries or come off as clingy if he asks.

he’ll approve it, of course!

he wants you to not hate your job, and part of being a good boss is letting his subordinates take the leaves they’re entitled to

and you deserve a nice, long break, anyway

but the curiosity is killing him inside. what will you be doing? will you still hang around the IPC?

he really, really wants to barge into your office and wrench an explanation out of you

and also, how dare you try to take leave right into the holidays! rude

he wanted to take you out to dinner! to fancy places! he was prepared to have a schedule full of you!

totally not dates or his attempts to spoil you

he totally isn’t thinking of doing it so that you’ll spoil him in return

he’s found out that you respond to him if he rants at you

and that you get very soft and careful with him if he presses the right buttons

he digs that so much it’s unreal

there’s something about having you, of all people, treat him tenderly

perhaps because he’s seen firsthand what kind of monster hides in your scarf

or… what kind of monster hides beneath your silent, icy exterior

it just hits different when someone like you treat him so gently

and he knows for a fact that you’ll never abuse that power you have

he absolutely loves that. 100%.

“guess who’s here!” aventurine announces as he enters your office without so much as a knock, “hard at work, my favorite secretary?”

“out, please.” you hiss, sparing him barely a glance from your computer, “i’m concentrating.”

since when did your complaints stop him

he saunters over and sits himself on your armrest anyway

your scarf lift him up and set him down on the couch opposite to you

he finds his way back to your chair

you put him on the couch again

he comes back to your armrest

is he a cat obsessed with a particular box (namely, your chair) or something

you give up

“what is it?” you relent, scooting over so he can fit onto your seat, too, albeit barely

this man does not hesitate to invade your personal space

“where are you going for a month, hmm?” he asks with a playful smile, “can’t even tell me?”

oh, so that’s what this is about

but why is he resting his face in his hand and looking at you like he’s trying to flirt?

“hibernation.” you keep typing without giving aventurine much of a reaction, “not exactly, but close. brumation.”

wait. wait, what?

it doesn’t take a genius to know that aventurine is currently flabbergasted. “you… hibernate? like sleep hibernate?” 

“no, i hibernate awake.” you mumble sarcastically, but he catches it even if your words are muffled

“c’mon, i’m just checking!” he throws his hands in the air as if protesting your attitude

“yes, i sleep, for the most part.” you scoot over a little more and lift him up, setting him down in your lap. “but i’ll be awake here and there.”

you rest your head on top of his and continues to work, effectively caging him in

he realizes you’re much more like a snake than he thought

not in an alarming way

you’re coiling around him, but, like, in a friendly danger noodle way

“will you?” he chuckles; maybe his plans aren’t entirely foiled, after all, “for how long?”

you look at him. “a few minutes up to an hour?” 

you’re only getting up for water and/or changing sleeping positions

never mind, his plans to try to spoil you is, in fact, foiled

he pouts. he had the entire thing planned out already! all five days that you’ll be off!

he looks like a kid who’s about to buy the last donut but you beat him to it and buy the donut right in front of his eyes.

“you can visit.” you say, and you see him light up almost immediately. 

though, you don't think there’s much worth visiting, but whatever makes him happy

when aventurine visits you during your well-deserved vacation, he’s pleasantly surprised. you’re sleeping so peacefully, despite the fact that you usually rarely sleep at all.

you’re curled up into half a ball under your blankets and your scarf

and letting out little snores

is this what you look like when you’re asleep? 

so adorable. if only you’d let him see it often…

but he doesn’t know the frequency of your brumation period

as far as he knows, it’s once in five years, but he has no idea if it’s more than five years

you’re not covering your face, either

aeons, he loves seeing your unobscured face

you’re so beautiful under your scarf

especially the patches of scales along your neck, they glitter in white gold under the light

he wishes you wouldn't try to cover them up

during your entire month, he’s going to be in your room whenever he’s free

he will totally try to sleep next to you at night

what? it’s not like you haven’t shared a bed before!

it’s just that you’ve never been asleep by each other's side!

you will cuddle into him if he tries to hold you

and you will get fussy if he tries to get out of the hug

if only you were as honest when you’re awake

aventurine has been trying to catch you in your small conscious windows, but he’s having not much luck with that. though, this isn’t exactly a gamble, so “luck” might not be the right word here.

he’s so busy; he’s drowning in work 

your temporary replacement isn’t very good at their job

or maybe he’s just used to the way you do things and now everything feels wrong

he wants you back already 

because nowadays he barely has an hour to spend with you apart from bedtime

he hates it

what do you mean by he can’t sit next to your sleeping form while he signs papers?

horrible, very horrible

but eventually he does catch you when you’re awake

you’re drowsy and you’re dragging your blankets and your scarf with you around your room

the cutest thing he’s ever seen in a long while

he watches as you clumsily pour yourself some water, spilling some on the table because you can’t line up the jug and the glass properly

and he watches as you sluggishly flop onto your couch after you’ve downed the water

“had enough of the bed?” he asks, sitting down next to you and brushing a few strands of hair away from your face

“hnnnnnngh,” you grumble and turn to face away from him, you just want to go back to sleep

then you remember this is your boss’s voice

and you reluctantly mumble, “it’s too warm…”

do you even know what you’re saying? you’re melting his heart

“oh, that so? it’s too hot over there?” aventurine snickers softly, his hand caressing your face, the cool fabric of his glove making you sigh in delight. “you’re so lovely.”

he recognizes the amount of trust you have in him to let him visit you when you’re sleeping, and it’s doing things to his stomach. you’re so lazy, so barely aware of your surroundings, but you trust him to be around you while you are in this state.

there is an urge, and he acts on it. he nuzzles against your cheek, rubbing your noses together and planting a small kiss on your forehead. he’s been dreaming of holding you like you’re his greatest treasure, but he’s never mustered up the courage to do it. 

maybe someday he will tell you, and then he’ll be allowed to adore you openly the way he’s always wanted to.

“my favorite snake,” he whispers to himself, feeling a shudder of affection throughout his bones, “sleep well. i’ll look forward to taking you out when you rise.”

#honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine #honkai star rail x reader #ares's voracity pathstrider tales

[barcaatthemoon]

closing the distance || alexia putellas x reader ||

you surprise alexia with your transfer to barcelona.

alexia looked absolutely adorable as she laid in bed. the two of you usually facetimed each other for a little while after your respective trainings. it wasn't uncommon for you to just be sitting in your car while you spoke to her, so she didn't question anything in the background.

"hi baby," you greeted alexia. her lips curled into a smile at the term of endearment. the two of you were alone, which meant that alexia didn't have to act so serious. "how did you sleep?"

"as well as i can without you next to me. when will you be down for a visit? i've been missing you," alexia said. you were surprised that she hadn't been whining and pouting a lot more. usually, she threw a little fit until you slotted her into your schedule. alexia was very needy, which had surprised you whenever the two of you first got together.

"soon, very soon. that's actually why i'm calling you right now. i thought that you'd want to know before the news actually breaks." alexia sat up in her bed, knowing exactly what you were talking about already. the two of you had already been through several conversations about your transferring once your contract was up. a lot of the girls had been sad to see you go, especially stina and frida, but you needed to be closer to alexia.

the two of you had been together for a long time, already having lived together for short stints of time whenever you were still living in spain. your transfer to arsenal had nearly destroyed your relationship, and if it wasn't for alexia's spanish teammates talking some sense into her, you knew that it would be nonexistent. however, now the two of you were approaching a few years together, and the natural progression of things to you felt like marriage, which you knew alexia would only agree to if you moved to barcelona with her.

"i want to hear you say it," alexia said.

"it's not official yet, i have to sign the contract first," you told her. alexia's face fell for a moment, but only until you spoke up again. "that's what i was trying to tell you. i'm in barcelona for a bit, and i was wondering if i could stay with you for the week."

"you don't have to ask, this is your home too," alexia told you. you smiled as you moved to get out of your car, which was the first time that alexia realized you weren't in london anymore. "are you outside of apartment building?"

"i am. i had my last practice last week," you told her. alexia dropped her phone as she ran out to see you. you laughed to yourself as you hung up and slipped your phone into your bag. within a minute, alexia was running out to the parking lot and nearly tackling you in a hug. "ale!"

"te amo-," alexia pressed a kiss to your cheek, "-i have missed you, mi amor."

"i missed you too, baby." alexia lifted you up off of the ground in her arms. she set you down gently, pressing several kisses all over your cheeks. you laughed from the sensation of her lips tickling your skin slightly. "let me grab my suitcase and we can go up together."

"don't bother, i've got it," alexia said confidently. you rolled your eyes at her, but let her grab your bags anyway. "i can't believe that you're moving back in with me. we can eat breakfast together, go out for lunches, and i can show you all of my mami's recipes. i don't care about anything other than catching up with you this week. i'm keeping you all to myself."

"you can have me until i sign my contract. i did promise mapi that we'd go out for drinks if i ever came back to barcelona," you reminded alexia. it had been one of the only ways for you to convince the defender to let you go. you had been a good friend of hers at athletico when you had played there together, and she was almost worse than alexia about the idea of losing you.

"i am sure that i can convince you to stay in with me." alexia wiggled her eyebrows and flexed a little. as silly as you found her sometimes, the flexing was unfortunately extremely attractive to you. it was alexia's surefire distraction, and she knew it.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

[daesukiii]

Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn

Word Count: 10,664

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences

Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.

Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything

-

this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.

hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up

“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.

“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”

As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”

San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”

You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”

San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”

He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.

In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.

You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.

With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.

It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”

“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”

You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”

San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”

You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees.  You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”

You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.

You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.

-

“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”

You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”

San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”

Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.

“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”

“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.

“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”

“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”

San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”

You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”

San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.

You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.

But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.

“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”

You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”

Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”

“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”

Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”

You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.

-

“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”

You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.

San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”

You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”

San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”

You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.

“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?

You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”

“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”

No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”

“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”

“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”

“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”

“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”

You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.

When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”

The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.

You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.

-

After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.

He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”

You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”

Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”

Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”

You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”

“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”

You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”

Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”

“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.

Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.

“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”

You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”

You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”

You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”

Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.

With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.

You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.

You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.

And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.

It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.

The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.

Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.

You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.

-

Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.

You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.

It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”

Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”

You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”

At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”

Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.

You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.

“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”

His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”

You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.

-

Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.

Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.

But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”

Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”

Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.

“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”

“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.

“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.

And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”

Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”

Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.

“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”

You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.

San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”

“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”

There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”

Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”

“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”

Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”

Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”

Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.

With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.

-

“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.

As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.

“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.

“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.

“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”

You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”

You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”

He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.

When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”

With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”

San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”

Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”

As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”

You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”

“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”

San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.

“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”

“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”

The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.

As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.

-

It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.

You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.

“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”

Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”

You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”

Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”

You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.

It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”

“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.

He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.

When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.

“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.

Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.

“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”

“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.

“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.

You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.

As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.

“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”

-

“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”

Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”

“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.

“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.

And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”

With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”

Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”

San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”

With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”

San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”

You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”

San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”

“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”

You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.

You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”

“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”

You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.

“No–”

“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”

Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.

And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.

You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.

With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.

“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.

“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”

A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”

You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”

There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”

You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”

Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.

He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.

“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”

You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”

San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.

“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.

-

When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.

“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.

“That would be nice.”

San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”

“I love you.”

His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”

His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.

And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.

“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”

You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”

You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.

“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.

His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream

His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.

When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”

“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.

When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.

He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”

You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”

You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.

With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.

His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”

San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”

You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.

“Answer me, YN.”

“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”

“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.

If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”

After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.

This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”

You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”

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[milswrites]

The Trials of Aphrodite Part Three

~ Azriel X Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist

Series summary: Hopelessly in love with Elain, Azriel enlists your help in order to win her over. The only problem? You have been in love with Azriel for as long as you have known him.

Chapter summary: Azriel receives a lesson in flirting.

Warnings: A bit of angsty pining. Teeny bit of suggestiveness.

It was a familiar scene; you staring at Azriel.

And Azriel staring at her.

Want swimming in his hazel eyes as he absorbed Elain's glowing figure as she pottered about in her garden, lips parted in awe as he took in her soft features and natural beauty.

All the while your eyes stayed locked on him. Wonder filling your own gaze as you marveled at the admiration which flowed freely from the male next to you. Azriel's intense stare providing you with an insight into all the love he had to give. A love that would never be reserved only for you. A type of love that he would only ever feel for Elain.

"So how's this going to work?" you ask in an attempt to break Azriel from his lovestruck spell, swallowing your pain as you noticed the love draining from his eyes as he turned his gaze to you.

"I don't know, I was hoping you would tell me what to do" he nervously mumbled, peeking back over the rosebush the two of you were hidden behind to double check that Elain hadn't spotted you.

"Gods this is ridiculous, Az just go over and talk to her!" you exclaimed, your raised voice being met with the anxious shushing of your worrisome friend who was afraid of being caught.

"Gee thanks I wonder why I haven't thought about doing that before. . . It's because I can't!" his sarcastic reply was met with a flat look from you, certain that the only reason Azriel was finding this difficult was because he was the one making it that way.

"Az, how hard can it be? Just compliment her or something!" you sighed, wondering how Azriel could ooze confidence in every aspect of his life apart from when it comes to romance.

"It's not that easy. I've tried. . . look last time I complimented her I asked her if she was the cauldron because I wanted to drown in her eyes" he awkwardly admitted, embarrassed eyes cast to the ground in shame.

"You compared Elain to the cauldron?" you asked unimpressed, astounded at your friend's boundless stupidity, "Elain who quite literally drowned in the cauldron in what was probably the most traumatizing event of her life."

"I didn't say the line worked" Azriel grumbled, not liking the chuckle of disbelief which slipped from your lips at his hopelessness.

"Obviously not, we wouldn't be crouched behind a bush right now if it did" you retorted, unable to stop the fit of giggles which followed as you tried to imagine Azriel's pitiful attempt of flirting backfiring on him.

"Are you going to help me or are you just going to sit there and laugh at me?" Azriel huffed, not sharing in your amusement at his misery.

"Fine, fine. Just go over there and compliment her dress, girls like it when guys notice that kind of thing" you suggest, trying not to turn red as you recall the time when Azriel had first complimented one of your own dresses, having continued to wear it every time you saw him for the next few months with the hope of him praising you again.

"Great, what do I say?" your friend asked, but not before you shoved him right into the heat of the fire by pushing him out from behind the rosebush. Azriel stumbling away from the safety of his hiding spot.

"Azriel? What are you doing here?" Elain's gentle voice called out from where she was stood. A quick flash of Azriel's burning gaze a warning that the two of you would be talking about this later.

"Elain!" Azriel loudly starts as he slowly makes his way towards Elain, his awkward manner already making you cringe in discomfort, "Your dress! it's nice. . . and pink. Nice and pink."

It took everything in you not to hang your head into your palm in shame, finding it incredulous how one person could fail so miserably when it came to talking to someone.

Thankfully, if Elain found his behaviour strange she didn't let on, instead replying to his strange attempt of a compliment with an airy giggle and a polite thank you.

"Great! Well um. . ." your ears perk, brows furrowing in confusion as you wait to see what Azriel says next, "Hope you have a nice day!"

With that Azriel swiftly left, abruptly ending the painfully awkward conversation before leaving the garden, hurriedly making his way up the nearest street in order to escape his discomfort. Chasing after your flustered friend, you followed after him, hoping that Elain hadn't noticed you were also there listening in on their conversation.

"Nice and pink? Have a nice day?" you laughed, having caught up to Azriel, “I’ve met Middengard Wyrm’s that flirt better than you just did." Not failing to miss the dusty pink hue that had blossomed across Azriel’s cheeks in wake of his embarrassment. 

“I can flirt,” he swiftly defended, hazel eyes rolling towards the back of his head as he noted the teasing smile which had graced your lips, “I was just caught off guard that’s all.”

“Ah ok, you were caught off guard. Is that the reason why you practically screamed in Elain’s face?” you smirked, working to deepen your friend’s blush until the growing redness spread to his ears.

“I didn’t scream-” Azriel didn’t fail to miss the way your face contorted into a wince at his hopeless denial, his once heated words now converting into a low conscious murmur, “Was it really that bad?”

You stretch out a reassuring hand to come and rest against Azriel’s slumped shoulder, thumb instinctively moving to rub comforting circles into his taut muscle. Eyebrows knitting together in pained sympathy, you answer honestly, “Maybe it was a little pathetic. . .You won't be tending to Elain's garden any time soon if that was anything to go by."

There was no stopping Azriel’s despondent sigh, not even the gentle caress of his shadows against his shaking hands brought the male any solace, the swirling black tendrils failing to sate their master's rising panic as it washed over him.

It was a horrible sight, seeing your friend so dejected. Your heart twinging at the way his anxious breath rattled in his chest. You would offer him your understanding if you could, take his trembling hands into your own and tell Azriel that you were all too familiar with the feeling of getting tongue tied around the person you so longed for. Yet no confession of your shared failures in the romance department would fix this, not when Azriel was the one who owned your heart. Not when you had promised him help in winning over another.

And so you didn’t share your hidden truth with the male, instead opting to lock it away into the darkest depths of your heart. It was a secret you were willing to keep forever, so only to ensure the happiness of your friend. A secret you would carry with you to your grave if Azriel’s plan goes as intended. 

Instead you offer Azriel the only thing you could; your comfort. The supportive hand which had been resting on his shoulder now travelling down his arm. His shadows parting briefly to allow you to lock your fingers with his own, the smoky wisps resuming their soothing dance once your hands were comfortably entwined.

One touch. That was all it took to pull Azriel from the wave of panic that had consumed him. The familiar touch of your palm against his own enough to steady his uneven breaths and calm his shaking hands.

"Its ok," you promise, confident gaze meeting his own uncertain stare, "you've not ruined anything. All you need is a little more confidence and she'll be under your spell. Trust me, one flirty little one liner from you and it will be impossible for her to be anything but in love."

"I can manage one I suppose" Azriel attempts to agree confidently yet his words read more like a question, removing his hand from your own to ruffle his hair in thought.

"Maybe you could ask Lucien for tips, Feyre tells me he's quite the flirt'' you tease, hoping the mention of Lucien's name would spur on Azriel's desire to act on his feelings for Elain.

"I don't need help when it comes to flirting, and certainly not from him" he grit the words through his teeth having predictably taken the bait you had laid out for him.

"Hmm I'm not sure, your skills were a little lacklustre from what I could see" you continue to goad him, each prod and poke working to build your friends confidence bit by bit.

"Lacklustre?" Azriel scoffed in disbelief, all anxiety having been drained from his eyes and replaced with the spark of a challenge.

"You wouldn't have me swooning" you shrug casually, mouth twisting into a playful smirk at Azriel's displeasure.

“No?” Azriel asked in faux surprise, the male taking a slow step towards you, “not even if I did this?”

 A gentle push of the tips of Azriel's fingers against the exposed skin of your chest found you stumbling backwards until you were pressed against the wall. Your teasing smile fading as your shock consumed you, heart fluttering as Azriel's arms came to cage you on either side. “Or this?” he continued, leaning in close enough that the warmth of his breath against your neck began to send shivers down your spine. Your knees wobbling at the intensity of his gaze.

“I thought flirting included words?” you breathed out heavily, trapped under the heat of his gaze.

“Why use words when I could take you apart with less than that?” he lowly whispered into your ear, a glint of darkness in his eyes as a cruel smirk appeared on his lips. You found yourself speechless, entranced by the playfulness of his devilishly handsome features, your deep breaths falling in time with his own as he witnessed your stunned reaction to his words.

"I think Elain will find my flirting perfectly adequate" he smiled, shattering the moment as he mentioned the woman that he truly wished was captured between his arms. Reminding you that his flirtacious quip wasn't for you; it was for her.

"Maybe that's a bit much Az" you state sourly, moving your hand to his chest in order to push him away and slip under his outstretched arm, "I don't know how well Elain will take it if you come on that strong."

"You didn't seem to mind" he answered cheerfully, failing to notice your sudden change in mood, the male still trying to continue his teasing banter.

"I think you'll find there's more to women than just sex and physical attraction" you scoffed, desperately wanting nothing more than to move on from this conversation. Yet Azriel wouldn't provide you with that mercy, his next question almost enough to make you sick.

"What would you say then? To someone you loved, someone you pined after?"

You debated not answering him, dismissing his curiosity to spare you from the pain and embarrassment that would no doubt ensue. Yet a small part of you wondered if this would be your only chance. That perhaps you had the wrong idea, locking away your feelings, maybe all you needed was to get them off your chest. To lift the weight from your shoulders, allow yourself to finally move on from the male who would never be interested in you.

So you took the leap, looking your fear in the face as you stared into Azriel's expectant eyes.

And you confessed.

"I would tell him the truth. Tell him how not a day passes where I don't feel madly, uncontrollably in love with him. That any moment I'm not near him I find myself unable to breathe, unable to be satisfied until I am in his company. And I'd tell him that loving him makes me a fool, that I would never fail to sacrifice my happiness if only to see him smile. That love has made me it's servant and I am all too willing to bow before it."

"Sounds to me like you're an expert in love" Azriel answered after a thoughtful pause, a flicker of a smile working its way onto his face.

"I don't think I know what love is" you replied, still waiting for the moment of relief to come, failing to understand that it was a gift you would never receive.

"Nonsense, he's a lucky guy. I'm sure he feels for you as deeply as you do for him" Azriel cheerfully reassured you, looking absolutely delighted by the prospect of you being in love with someone. Completely unaware that he was the male you were speaking of. That he was the person you would struggle to live without.

And as you shook away the consoling shadow which had tentatively approached you, you wondered if your heart would ever be free from the chains of Azriel's own design.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Thank you to @daily-dose-of-sass for unknowingly falling into my trap and giving me the most perfect pick up line for Azriel to have used 😌

Bit more of a look at the dynamic of their friendship in this one!

Taglist Part 1:

@a-cup-of-nightshade @yearninglustfully @illyrianbitch @ninaduchess @sarawritestories @annaaaaa88 @antiquecultist @madelyncullen @erencvlt @chaytea06 @dxjaaaa @saltedcoffeescotch @spark1epuffba11s @thestartitaness @amysangel @historygeekqueen @thelov3lybookworm @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @willowpains @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @dreamlandreader @sidthedollface2 @leeknows-wife @riorgail @eve175 @evergreenlark @anuttellaa @daily-dose-of-sass @Jesus-is-me @tothestarsandwhateverend

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel series #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger

[carcee]

rumour has it

pairing: leah williamson x melody porcaroli (oc)

summary: sometimes all you need is for the public to find out about your old relationship with England's captain for you to meet the love of your life again and after all these years you're both still in love if not more

a/n: I changed a few things so it fits better with the story. their will be other languages is series. Also I hate how I wrote the match so pls ignore how bad it is hopefully it'll get better.

w/c: 4.3k

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𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 wosolvr, keirawalsh and others 

porcaroli_news Leah Williamson (footballer) and Melody porcaroli (singer/model) seemed to have know each other not only from school but from birth as their parents were friends.

not only that the two seemed to have been in a relationship from deleted posts from both of their accounts and some photos from their friends. The two also played for the Young lionesses (which she captained) and arsenal's youth academy.

It is seemed to think that the two broke up a couple months after leah got signed for arsenal. Was the break up the reason she didn't peruse her football career as in multiple articles she is praised for her talent and how she could be the future to women's football if she continued with what she was doing.

( view all comments )

𝐰𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐫 KEIRA LIKED THE POST     > 𝐰𝐨𝐬𝐨𝟒𝐞𝐯𝐫 as fast as she liked the post she was even faster to unlike it . liked by porcaroli_news

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐚𝐧 I never knew she played for Young lionesses

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐧 I knew I wasn't delusional when I thought they'd make a hot couple

𝐰𝐨𝐬𝐨𝟒𝐞𝐯𝐫 i didn't even know she was gay 😭😭😭

mel KEIRA FAE WALSH WHY DID YOU LIKE THAT POSTTT

fav ginger I DIDNT MEAN TO IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I SWEAR AND I UNLIKED IT IMMEDIATELY

IM SORRY

PLS DONT HATE ME

mel no its fine it just I really wanted to go to the euros finals to see u guys win and now I cant without it being made into a huge thing that I'm going to see her when I'm not I'm here for you and Georgia and the other girls but mainly you two

fav ginger NO PLS COME

we need you

she needs you even if she doesn't know it

mel Keira don't

fav ginger sorry

let me rephrase

I need you

mel okay fine. your lucky I love u so much

Today was the day the 31st of July and of course you were excited to be going but at the same time your body was filled with nerves as you knew that you were going to see her.

The saying time heals all wounds did not apply to this situation especially with the fact that now the whole world now knows that you and Leah Williamson were in a relationship definitely didn't help.

So there you sat, as close as you could possibly get without actually being on the pitch your leg bouncing up and down anxiously when you saw the girls walk on the pitch. You remembered how nervous you were when you were doing the young lionesses and couldn't even begin to imagine how they felt walking into the final of the euros on home ground.

So the second the ball was kicked you sat proudly in your England shirt playing with the bracelet you and the girls made when you were teenagers.

It was now nearly the 50 minuet mark and Germany nearly scored but thankfully Magull was off causing the stress to leave your body and surely easing the lionesses nerves as well.

Although you'd thought you were quite undercover or disguised enough that people wouldn't notice you. But apparently not enough as Sarina saw you causing her to ask you to come and sit with her so the two of you could talk.

So when you both saw Beth mead go down the both of you held onto each other before she made her way further down dragging you along with her which took you by surprise, but you were sure she just forgot.

Beth seemed to now be accompanied by Lucy and medics but although it didn't look that serious you were certain she would have to be subbed off. All your worries for the girl went away as the stadium cheers as the girl stood back up and walked off the pitch with a slight limp.

"Melody" Sarina called out to you breaking you from your gaze "who do you think I should sub on?" the question threw you off guard "erm, I think Chloe Kelly. I've seen her play and I think her skills would make us more likely to win" your voice filled with confusion still.

"that's what i was thinking Kelly it is then"

Just as Chloe went on the pitch the game was on full swing again with Germany making their way down though that was stopped by Lucy with a header which went to Georgia who then passed it to Keira.

Pass to Ella.

As if Keira heard you thoughts she done exactly that and Ella sent the ball beautifully into the back of the net which sent cheers to going through Wembley stadium.

As you jumped up and down in joy for England but also for Ella who you could tell was ecstatic with the goal and had just scored for England.

But not soon after Germany make it 1-1

It was currently the 90 minuet mark and there was now going to be a break before playing the last 30 minuets and ever since Germany equalised the game the game had you sorting on the edge of your seat so many chances were given to them and thankfully none made it into the net.

You found yourself sitting alone as Sarnia and the subs were making their way onto the pitch for s speech and of course Lucy being Lucy she was sat on the grass the the kid she is.

It was soon time for the the girls to make their way back on the pitch but before they did a person jumped on your back causing the both of you to fall "Keira. What the fuck" you complained from the floor as the girl was still laying onto of you "get off" you shouted causing the lionesses to look over at the two of you and a certain blondes gaze to linger a little longer than I should of and it would of lasted longer if it wasn't for Georgia who snapped her fingers in front of the girl with a smirk present on her face.

Leah knew that the two of you keep in touch after the breakup as it would of been unfair if she'd told the girl to pick a side. But what she didn't know was how close the two of you were as it was kinda a rule for her not to bring up the other one when she was with one of you guys. You never posted her and she never posted you, your outings with each other other completely unknown to people who weren't close to her.

She laughed before somehow moving so she was closer to the girl than she already "no, I'm showing you how happy I am that you came" she spoke between kisses that she placed all over any skin that she could see.

Finally she let the girl go only when Lucy came over and told them that Keira need to go back now. "I'm so proud of you okay, so proud" you held her head in both of her hands kissing her forehead before hugging her tightly "now go and win this okay" quickly doing your handshake before watching her run back on the pitch and seeing you guys were on the big screen.

Next thing you knew it was half time of extra time and still England and Germany were tied but England was now given a corner which Lauren hemp was gonna take. You watched as she kicked the ball and Lucy got a touch on it but it wasn't enough but you watched as Chloe went to kick the ball but missed and went for it again and watched as the ball went into the back on the net causing screams to be let out around the stadium.

She was hesitant to celebrating but once she realised that the goal counted she took of her shirt spinning it around while running around the pitch.

She was gone be given a yellow card but no one cared England were in the lead and that all that mattered.

Next thing you knew it was over England had won. You felt tears begin to fill your eyes as you were so incredibly proud of your girls and obviously all you wanted to do was go onto the pitch and hug all the girls but technically you had no clearance to be there so you stood by the edge until Sarina told them to let you through as she knew that you knew a lot of the girls.

You eyes looked for the lionesses to find them in two lines and now was your time to get revenge on Keira for jumping on you earlier.

So you picked up some momentum and jumped on the girls back causing her to nearly drop you but her arms quickly found its place under you're legs. Unknown to two girls when you nearly fell leah reached out to grab you which didn't go unnoticed to the lionesses.

This time it was Lucy who noticed "shut up" leah grumbled as she could already sense the comment that Lucy was gonna, while she only laughed louder at the situation. "talk to her. It's clear you both still love each other"

"told you you'd win!!!" placing kisses all over the girl

Leah eyes on the two of you again wondering how she didn't know that the two of you were that close, like kiss each other close. She noted to herself to ask her later.

"to think you weren't gonna come" she dropped you on the ground turning to see you with tears running down your face "no don't cry" Keira's hand began to wipe your tears away "okay, ill stop I'm just so proud that's why"

You then went around hugging a few players before having to move out the way as it was time for them to collect their awards. And though you hated to admit it you watched her the whole time. I mean how could the girl not.

Even though you thought it was impossible she managed to get prettier over the year's the two of you hadn't spoken.

You watched as she got her medal and then held the trophy. You watched as she lifted it up and the confetti cannons went off.

You just watched her.

As if she felt your gaze, she looked your way but you quickly looked away. It looked as if the girl was going to talk to you but she was dragged away for an interview which you were thankful for. Your eyes watching her only going away when you saw a football being kicked in you direction, which you lucky were able to stop.

Playing with the football doing some tricks "Lucy, your lucky I manged to stop that ball or else" laughing lightly passing it back to her "come on you know you missed it" kicking it back to you "kick it in the goal from here I know you can"

The girl grabbed a camera man placing herself in front of it "okay everyone, here we have" the camera now showing you "the Melody Porcaroli, singer, songwriter, model and many more. One them being an excellent footballer. So who want to see her score a goal from here" the stadium roared which caused the girl blush in embarrassment "you can't say no now. gotta give the crown what they want"

Looking at the girl "I hate you" moving away you created some space between you and the ball so you could get some momentum. Looking at Lucy who now had a bunch of girls lined up with her. Touching your bracelet the began running towards the ball and kicked it watching as it soared through the air and enter the goal thankfully.

Leah watched you the whole time a proud smile on her face completely ignoring the questions that were thrown at her by the interviewer.

youtube bbc sport has posted! click to view  

"hello everyone. it looks like we have a big name in the house melody porcaroli here with us" the Alex stated giving you a quick hug as the two of you haven't seen each other in years.

"hi Alex"

"so what made you come to the game today" Alex asked "and miss a chance to see you. no but in all seriousness Keira convinced me. So how could I say no to her" Laughing slightly

alex laughed as well "And why did you think of the game?"

"amazing, I mean the girl gave it their all and it payed off and i think playing on home ground just helped drive her motivation as well as that Germany, they played amazing as well. The game had me at the edge of my seat the-" and suddenly you felt a weight on your back once again "-KEIRA. what's your problem. your lucky I caught you this time"

"well you wouldn't drop me would you"

"are you forgetting what happened earlier"

the two of you forgot you were being interviewed until Alex spoke up again "Keira hi. on that note the media seemed to have ,missed your friendship"

Keira smiled remembering all the memories the two of the you had. "yeah we met each other when she was twelve—"

"—thirteen"

"—barely, anyway and I was fourteen but I actually thought that she was the same age as me cause she lied about it" pointing an accusing finger at you "No I didn't. Okay maybe I did but I wanted to play with you guys and you all just assumed I was the same age as leah so I went with it"

"i thought that as well when i first met you" Keira look at you with an accomplished smile when Alex agreed with her. Looking at her you placed a shocked look on your face "Alex, she wont shut up about this now"

"and it wasn't till years later that the team found out that you weren't the same and as us or else you would of been with the Young lionesses that Alessia and Ella are in but I'm happy you were with us all the memories that we made"

Looking at the girl with a shocked expression "I'm twenty three Keira I could of been with either but I'd rather be the youngest than the oldest"

"you may be happy but I got hate for weeks straight as they were hurt that I lied to them but when I had my birthday party it had my age on it. Its not my fault they weren't paying attention, so really it's their fault i should be the upset one"

The interviewer laughed at the best friend's "anyway ill let the two of you go back to celebrating"

"Byeee"

pretend ur leah and ur in normal clothes in the last picture where she's hugging Keira also ur Lucy in all of her photos

instagram meleodyporcaroli has posted! click to view  

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 leahwiliamsonn, keirawalsh and others 

melodyporcaroli Beautiful assist from my girl Keira to Ella who scored an amazing goal and I knew I was right when I told Sarina to put Chloe on as you scored the goal that changed our lives. Doing what the men couldn't (joking kinda not really) IM SO SO PROUD OF YOU GIRLS @lionesses

I've seen most of the girls grow as people and players. I remember when we would talk about the euros and how we wanted to win and now you've done that maybe not exactly how we imagined but I'm still so proud of you.

p.s why an I celebrating like I was on the pitch and make fun of Young Keira in the comments😜 oh and watch my post match interview as well

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𝐤𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐡 I'm so proud of you. I wouldn't be the person that I am on and off the pitch without you     > 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐢 stop don't lie your just naturally talented

𝐤𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐡 OMG WHY THAT PHOTO     > 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐢 I had worse I could of posted so be grateful

 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐚 me in the background of that photo

𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞_𝐦𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐞𝟏𝟏 oh, things are adding up now     > 𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐥𝟒𝐞𝐯𝐫 Katie what are u doing here???

𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐞 I look so cool in that hat     > 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐢well I bought it specifically for you and you look leng in it. joe watch out I'm gonna steal ur girl

𝐰𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐫 MELODY PLAY FOOTBALL AGAIN PLS WE NEED YOU FOR THE WWC     > 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐢 erm thanks for the compliment but I'm not that good     > 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐲𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐳𝐞 I agree with them. you're nearly as good as me, nearly. don't let it go to ur head okay     > 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐢 THE LUCIA ROBERTA TOUGH BRONZE COMPLIMENTED ME. not gonna happen though and u know why so don't

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐲𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐳𝐞 come over and visit barca soon. I miss you . liked by melodyporcaroli

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐧 I knew I wasn't going crazy when I thought I saw her

𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐨𝟗𝟗 why aren't I in this photo dump. but Keira's here FIVE TIMES FIVE       > 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐢 sorry next time I see you. you'll get a whole post dedicate to u okay. ur my fave Italian girl

𝐰𝐨𝐬𝐨𝟒𝐞𝐯𝐫 leah completely ignored the question just to watch Melody instead. porcalison when

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐚𝐧 did you see when Melody nearly fell when she jumped on Keira and Leah went out to grab her to stop her from falling. she's down so bad even after years

𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐨𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲 these comments are killing me. someone explain pls preferably you or leah

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐢_𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 stop did you see her with the football. she got skills. GO PRO NOWW ENGLAND NEEDS YOU FOR THE WWC

𝐰𝐨𝐬𝐨𝟒𝐞𝐯𝐫 STOP THE WAY LEAHS LOOKING AT HER. IM DEAD. THEIR SO CUTE

After a lot of public celebrating the team along with some of their friend found themselves celebrating privately at club that a friend of theirs owned so that they could party without anyone interrupting them as they all just wanted some time without fans.

Now the majority of the girl's were drunk and were defiantly going to be hungover tomorrow at least Melody was but she technically didn't have to be somewhere tomorrow so she definitely wasn't holding back.

So you found yourself dancing up against Lucy as she was the only one who truly was get drunk with her and wouldn't tell her to slow down. "She won't stop glaring at me" the older women spoke up causing you to stop dancing for a second before continuing "Like Its taking the fun out of it tonight, Mel I looks could kill i'd be dead" stepping away and turning you around so your not facing each other.

"I mean even Keira can't calm her down. So either talk it out or fuck it out" the words that left her lips caused your to part full of shock

Slapping the girl on her hard "LUCY. You can't say stuff like that"

"What. I suggest the second one it'll feel better also more fun"

You love Lucy but honestly the girl says stuff without even thinking and the alcohol definitely didn't help her.

"oh would you look at that my drinks empty. Need a refill" sprinting to the bar "strongest drink you have please" Asking the blonde bartender. Pulling out your card to pay but one beat you to it and the scent that that came with it was all to familiar.

"I can pay for my own drinks" your eyes staring on you drink "I know but think of this as me repaying you for all the times you would pay for snacks after practice"

"Leah" the words were barley heard but it was enough to take the girl over the edge.

Oh how much power that one voice had has.

What she didn't know was that her voice had the same affect on you and the alcohol in both of your systems didn't help it only made each word spoken sound better.

Leah closed her eyes as if to savour this moment her voice replaying in her head "say my name again" looking in the girls eye's "leah. Stop with whatever your doing, I need to go"

Walking away before anything would happen between the two of you. To be fair you didn't know when you'd see the girl but with you spending the majority of the time in America due to work and avoiding going home you had no chance to see her.

So the entire night you had spent it avoiding a certain girl with blonde hair and that girl spent the entire night with her eyes solely on you and she wasn't hiding it.

Everyone there knew who she was watching some with more info than others (Lucy,  Keira and Georgia). Everyone one who knows Leah knew that she never was this interested in a girl. Whenever a girl came up to her she would always turn them down no matter how hot they were so to see her this interested in a girl was something new.

You'd went around and had a fun time with some of the girl's (Rachel Daly) singing so of your songs on the karaoke machine and shed honestly sounded better than you "you should feature me on your next album" She'd joked and you being you said yes.

And after a shit tin of drinks and some dancing you'd found yourself walking to the toilet upstairs which was like a proper bathroom as the owner (your friend Ellie) often would fall asleep at Work so it was just easier for her.

Going to close the door you felt someone slip between the gap. "what the fuck—" A hand cover your mouth whirl they back you up against the wall. Opening your green eyes you saw Leah standing In front of you causing the fear in your body to leave.

"look in sorry barging in here but you wouldn't talk let alone look at me—" you hit her head, her hand that was once on your mouth was now on her head "—owwww. what was that for"

Pushing her away "I don't know maybe bargain in on me I could of been like naked" gesturing to your outfit which was a one piece "nothing I haven't seen before" a smirk on her face

"no stop that. you can't say shit like that not anymore" growing more impatient

"leave" the girl stayed in her spot intact she moved closer to you

"leah, leave. Were not doing this now okay"

Another step

"go"

Another step

This time it was her who spoke now that she was face to face to you "Mellie, Tell me to stop" her eyes taking in every feature of your face having not bring so close in years. The green in your eyes was brighter than ever. How you hair was now lighter than it was when you were teenagers. How your face was more structured now. How you were prettier than ever.

Though you wanted to. Tried to. Your mouth wasn't working the word stop barely being able to be said in your head.

The way the two of you ended hurt but what you were feeling right now was too strong for you to care. Every bone in your body was wanting no yearning for the blondes touch.

"tell me right now and I won't kiss you right now" her lips millimetres from yours. Looking up at her "I can't—" before you could finish the sentence her lips were placed on yours, and it was definitely worth the wait. Maybe it was the years of each other lips not touching one another. Maybe it was the alcohol in both of your system, but it felt better than it ever has felt.

Her tongue parts your lips, a moan coming from you mouth. If there wasn't any desperation in the kisses before there now was. The kiss now sending both of your tipsy minds in to orbit.

Leah's hand taps your legs telling you to jump, your legs which were once on the floor were now stopped around the defender. Hands now under your thighs, walking the two of you to the sink so she could place you down.

Her lips now finding its place on your neck, sucking sweetly on the stop that would drive you crazy all these year ago "see that's still your soft spot. Yeah?" Tugging her hair in confirmation as she went at it again. You let her touch linger there for a second before needing her lips back on yours again.

She clings to you, her arm wrapping around your waist, on on your hip while the other was holding your jaw. Every touch that the girl gave you sent you over the edge. Their was a urgency in both of your touches as though you weren't close to each other. The clothes on both of you being the subject of both of your frustration.

Your hand fumble to Leah's shirt trying to unbutton it and her's pulling down the zipper that was already tauntingly low, as it was barely keeping your boobs covered. "fuck, Mellie. The things you do to me" the words were almost spoken as a moan.

Once revelling your Chest, the blondes hands grabbing them as her lips went back yours. Your legs wrapping tighter to Leah's waist in pure euphoria, Nails dragging down the blonde's back.

On of her hands went lower and lower until

"Melody, you completely disappeared—" Lucy voice trailed off, a smirk present on her lips. The two of you parted, Leah simply moving her shirt so it covered her and you well you struggled with tugging your zipper up, leah left out a laugh which quickly went with the look you sent her. "— Well don't stop on my account. Oh and make sure to lock the door this time" walking away "so my advise isn't bad, I can't wait to tell Keira and Georgia"

Fuck

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #lionesses x reader #woso #woso fanfics #leah williamson #engwnt x reader #leah williamson imagine #engwnt #carece writes

[unknownunidentified101]

LND HEADCANNONS

WARNINGS | slight angst and suggestive

CONTAINS | Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne

ABOUT | random head cannons with love and deep space men

RAFAYEL

He has a fear of heights, it doesn’t help his job requires him to travel around the world. With that, he will always finds some solace in you

“ remind me why you called me again?” You stood at the entrance of the gateway to the plane. Rafayel tries to ignore your question, submitting his plane ticket to the flight attendant

“ earth to Rafayel?” You were slightly annoyed, having been called at 5am to go to the airport

“ gosh I thought the sight of the airport would answer that question” Rafayel sighs. You remain adamant, waiting for a proper response

“ fineeee. I’m going away for an art exhibition, I wanted to take you with me” Rafayel explained, dragging you inside the awaiting airplane

“ why? Isn’t Thomas coming with you!” You huffed, crossing your arms in a fit. Rafayel pauses and turns back to you. “ you’re my body guard no?” He tries to mimic a puppy’s eyes

“ I am but this sort of thing doesn’t really require protection” you refer to the airplane. Seeing that you wanted to leave, Rafayel grabbed your wrist

“ I’m just scared of heights okay?” Rafayel confessed. You were bewildered. Him? Afraid of heights? You would think he would be use to flights by now

“ why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Your tone softened

“ you would bully me” Rafayel pouted. You felt guilty, you were acting like a brute before.

“ I wouldn’t…in fact, I’ll support you.” You stare down, intertwining your fingers with Rafayel’s . “ if there is no stable ground, I’ll be your land” you vowed

Rafayel parts his lips, in awe at your words. “ just tell me next time” you smile tenderly, leaning upwards to give the man a peck on the lips

EXTRA NOTE : Rafayel made you hold his hand the entire flight ( and you sat in the window seat)

Has thing for holding you very tightly. Most people would give you a squeeze but Rafayel finds himself leeching onto you

“ she said she would be here soon!” Rafayel complained to Thomas. “ I already called her, she will be here soon” Thomas was also getting increasingly annoyed

“ did you even call the right number?” Rafayel whined, Thomas snapped back, “ I did! I heard her voice!”

“ just great” Rafayel mumbled, slumping back in his seat. “ if only you didn’t lose your phone in the accident” Thomas mumbled under his breath

“ I heard that!” Rafayel sprung out of his hospital bed

Before Thomas could utter another word the sounds of the door unlocked. “ [y/n]?” Rafayel’s hopes were exceedingly high

“ Rafayel!” Your frantic voice echoed through the hospital room. Thomas had a relieved expression while Rafayel sprinted to you, ignoring the wires attached to his body

“ Baby!” Rafayel was like a little child, squeezing you tightly. All his resentful emotions were long gone by now.

His lips peppered you with numerous kisses

“ Rafayel” you breathed, or at least you tried too, he was squeezing you like no tomorrow. “ Rafayel! Too tight” you had to mutter

Rafayel instantly let’s go, scared he hurt you. “ I’m sorry! I missed you so much” he held your hand

“ me too. Now get back to your bed mister! I have to lecture you!”

He has frequent nightmares of you killing him or vise visa. It disheartens him to think about it, knowing he can’t cry it out.

Rafayel wakes up in cold sweat. His eyes frantically search the room. You weren’t by his side and that’s what saddened him.

He had a recurring dream, the moment where you perished. It was unbearable for him. With a cold breath, Rafayel hazily stumbled out his room

While arriving outside his room, there was a dim light in his studio. He was confused, usually his studio would automatically have the light off at night

With his guard up, he walked into his studio. However instead of a thief, it was you.

Relief washed over him. You were the only person he wanted to be with right now. “ [y/n]?” He calls your name

Your back was faced to him and as you heard his voice you were startled. “ oh Rafayel! I was just taking a walk” you walk to the man

“ I was wondering where my lover went” Rafayel couldn’t help but chuckle. “ did I worry you? Are you okay?” You asked many questions while carelessly caressing Rafayel’s cheek

“ I’m fine. Just a bad nightmare” Rafayel admitted, rubbing his face into your hand. “ poor you” you coo, wrapping your hands around the man’s neck

Rafayel hums, wrapping his arms around your waist. “ can we go back to the bed now?”

“ okay”

He has SO many moles.

You sat next to Rafayel while he muses about his latest painting. You couldn’t help but realise the small moles on his face

“ your moles are cute Rafayel” you mention. Rafayel stops painting, placing his paint brush down

“ what?” He wants to hear you again

“ your moles. I could kiss them all day” you teased with a smirk. Rafayel’s cheek turn to a hue of pink, “ you know, they say your moles are where your past lover kissed you” you point out to Rafayel’s moles

Rafayel smiles. Ironic because you were all his past lovers. “ Is that so? Should I claim you now then?” Rafayel gains the courage

You were a bit startled by his comment but you gave in to his alluring eyes. Not long after you found yourself colliding lips with Rafayel.

Every time he looks at you, he gets a wave of adrenaline, he vows that one day, he will marry you.

“ beautiful isn’t it?” You pointed at the flowers embedded in the garden. Rafayel only has eyes for you, “ really beautiful” he emphasises, eyes fixated on you

“ are you even looking at the flowers?” You turn to Rafayel’s soft gaze

“ the only beautiful flower I see, is you.” Rafayel gently whispers. “ In fact, you are even prettier than a flower” he adds

You feel butterflies swarm in your stomach at the mention. “ can you promise me something?” Rafayel inquires

Your body faces him, letting him know you were listening to him. “ promise me, you’ll never leave me” Rafayel pulls you closer to him

“ where is this coming from?” You giggle at the mention. Rafayel’s eyes hold seriousness, letting you know he was not joking. You feel his hands hover over your lip

“ never mind. I will Rafayel, I will never leave you” you pinky promise, making Rafayel relieved. “ good, in that case, I’ll marry you then.” Rafayel leaned in for a loving kiss

And indeed, he will marry you again.

XAVIER

Despite always being sleepy and being on the verge of knocking out, Xavier always tries to stay awake for you.

“ and I couldn’t believe it Xavier! The nerve of that woman” you ranted. It was late at night and you just got home after a mission

“ that woman had no sense of respect” Xavier added. “ I know! And she yelled at me” you ranted even more.

You were frustrated and annoyed, throwing your pillows on your bed. “ but I’m sorry for annoying you Xavier, you probably want to sleep” your tone changed

There was some silence before Xavier softly answered. “ no. Keep going. I love hearing your voice.” He muses

“ are you sure? I don’t want to bore you” you lay on your cushioned bed. “ you could never ‘bore’ me dear” Xavier breathed

You couldn’t tell if he was going to sleep or not but nevertheless you chatted your head off. You thought Xavier would fall asleep but he would always hum and give you short sentences in response

He made you feel appreciated

Sometimes when you speak, Xavier can’t help but stare at your lips. His a very bold man, therefore he kisses you to stir you up

“ Tara said she would buy me these” you pout at recalling a fond memory. Xavier stays silent, listening to your rant

“ Is that so?” His eyebrows show interest

“ yeah but she ended up buying this for herself” your pout was abnormally large. Xavier stared with pitiful eyes

You were utterly breathtaking. You put him under a spell he could not resist

“ but you know it’s okay-“

Before you could finish your sentence, a pair of lips engulfed your own. You were stunned to say the least, closing your eyes after registering Xavier’s actions

“ Xavier..” your tone whined as Xavier parted from your lips. “ I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist myself, you were too cute” Xavier teases.

“ you sly fox” you mock, feeling Xavier pull you even closer to him. “ say that again and I’ll give you even more kisses”

You always have your way with him. He always finds himself losing to you. His utterly intoxicated by you.

“ what if you Iose?” Xavier looks at the card in his hand. “ if I lose..?” You begin to ponder

“ if I lose, I pay for the meal tonight” you wager. Xavier is intrigued by your words. “ alright then, loser pays for tonight’s dinner” Xavier readies his cards

You were determined but that wouldn’t last long. You see, despite Xavier not knowing half the rules of the game, he somehow had an advantage over you

The problem was he knew he was going to win. Xavier looks up at your worried expression. You seemed frustrated and it was evident you didn’t want to lose

Xavier smiles. It was never his intention for you pay for the dinner you two would be having that night. Xavier stays silent, closing his eyes

He knew you would take the bait and swap the kitties in the cup. As soon as your shuffling finished, Xavier peeked his eye open

“ huh. The cats position seems off” he plays it off like a natural. “ Is it? Can’t tell” your laughs were stifled

Xavier’s lips stay upwards. “ guess I’m the loser then.” Xavier surrenders. You swayed him into losing and he didn’t regret any bit of it

He did it all for the smile on your face.

“ I’ll pay for the dinner tonight okay?”

He spends majority of his time looking after you. Even when you don’t see him.

“ Xavier are you there?” You had called Xavier after talking with your friends

“ what do you mean?” Xavier tries to make it sound like he just woke up. “ i thought I saw you behind me” you begin to worry

“ I’m at …home” Xavier says after some hesitation.

“ are you? You know the craziest thing happened to me” you begin to retell. “ tell” you could feel Xavier’s nod through the screen

“ I was talking with my friend and suddenly the light nearby went off, so he left me alone” you explained. “ what’s crazy about that” Xavier’s voice seems forced

“ I’m scared to walk home but then a speck of light comes down and guides me” you sounded crazy

“ really..?” Xavier tries to hide his cheeky voice

“ yeah, the light reminded me of you. To bad I never got to finish my conversation with my friend” there was a glint of sadness in your speech

“ you sure? 23 minutes was enough” Xavier spurted out.

You had a smirk on your face. “ how did you know we talked for that long?” It was your turn to tease him. Xavier goes silence, caught red handed

“ you cheeky star.” You joked. “ anyway, open the door, I’m outside your house” you knock on the door

Xavier shuffles and panick envelopes him. “ that is…unless you aren’t home?” You were too smart for him

The sounds of the call hanging up are heard and you hear footsteps approaching you

“ fine. You caught me” Xavier’s voice rings from behind you. “ you really are cute Xavier ” you smile, hugging the man

“ whatever” Xavier hides the sourness in his voice, kissing your forehead.

A HUGE tease

You were relaxing in Xavier’s sofa after he called you over. Playing on your phone you hear the door unlock.

Sitting up quickly, your eyes dart to Xavier. Xavier appears before you, only wearing pants with a towel slinging around his neck

You felt hot instantly, Xavier spots you after he attempts to dry his hair. “ ah, you caught me” he smiled at your reaction

You feel Xavier’s footsteps travels over to your position. “ what’s wrong? Do you have a fever?” Xavier grazes a hand over your cheek

“ or…are you embarrassed?” A sly smirk appears on his lips

“ go away Xavier” you fluster up. Xavier giggles. “ you’ve seen me like this before…so why are you acting all shy now?”

ZAYNE

When you happened to be partying one time, Zayne had to bring you back home. However this was proven to be a challenge when you wouldn’t budge, so instead, he carried you over shoulder his shoulder

“ let’s go [y/n]” Zayne meets you at a night club. Sure enough, you were very drunk

“ party pooper” you mock, trying to drink another glass of alcohol. Quickly and swiftly the drink is swapped from your hands.

“ I don’t like that tone” Zayne softly holds your cheek.

“ hey! Zayne I was drinking that!” You slur to Zayne’s stoic face, Zayne observes your drunken state and smiles softly. “ time for you to go home” Zayne reminds

“ I don’t want to go home. I’m fine right here” you were still in your seat

Zayne is tired, and more over, he knows you weren’t in a stable state. “ i see how it is” He sighs, grabbing your waist while pulling you in

“ what are you doing!” Before you could finish your speech, Zayne lifts you over his shoulder.

“ Hey! Put me down!” You throw a fit while the man couldn’t care any less

“ I told you to go home” Zayne holds you securely. Waving to all your friends. “ this is so embarrassing” you grumble, Zayne’s lips begin to grow a smirk in victory

Zayne sometimes notices the way your desk is scattered with papers and books, being a small clean freak, he cleans things for you without being asked

Zayne passes by your table. It looked like a truck had wrecked your room. Your table had notes scattered everywhere

Sticky notes were folded and pages looked worn out. Zayne sighs, knowing you just had your final exams. You weren’t at home as of currently,

So silently, without being ordered to, Zayne cleans your desk and eventually, your room. He makes sure to keep boundaries, knowing not to mess with your private stuff

Then it was as if time had passed by very quickly. He had finished the work just in time for you to come home from your exams

You were exhausted and pent up. Opening your door you see a rose petal path leading to the kitchen

Smiling at the sight, you follow the path and see Zayne prepare a home cooked dinner for you. “ welcome home dear” Zayne looks back at you

You felt like crying, he was so sweet. You dropped your bags, stumbling over to the man

“ i love you. I don’t deserve you” you sniffle into Zayne’s shoulder. “ me too” Zayne murmurs

“ how did you do all this?” You were breathless, lookng around your decorated home

“ I got off work early, so I came over and cleaned up your place. Then I cooked dinner for you” Zayne make it seem like it was nothing

You felt your eyes water. “ Zayne…you…you are the best” you engulf his body again, squeezing him

“ you are just want I needed after a long day Zayne.”

He has nightmares very often. He always tries to lure you to his house to spend the night

The storm raged outside Zayne’s room. He is less startled than you. “ it’s really pouring out there” you look at the falling rain drops

“ a pity really” Zayne wipes the dishes in his hands

“ but you know I really have to get home” you muster the courage. Zayne looks worried, he stops you. “ how will you get home?” He pouts

“ a taxi I suppose” you huff

Zayne can not allow that, who knows what the night brings to unsuspecting victims

“ you can stay” Zayne points out. You shake your head, “ I don’t want to be a bother” you try to decline

“ I have trouble sleeping.” Zayne says out of nowhere. You tilt your head in slight confusion

“ I would like it…if you stayed” Zayne fiddled with his hands out of nervousness. You realise the severity of his words

“ you should’ve started with that. Of course I’ll stay Zayne” you walk over to the cold man, cupping the man’s cheek

“ thank you” Zayne rubbed his cheek against your hand. “ I should be thanking you” you laugh wholeheartedly, sharing a kiss

Very picky with food so you always end up eating his left overs.

“ Zayne?” Your voice crowds his thoughts. Zayne looks up, realising he had sorted out his food into big portions

“ are you going to eat that?” Your fork points at the pile of carrots on his plate.

Zayne looks down and embarrassingly shakes his head. “ you don’t like carrots?” You piece some information together. “ I was never fond of it” Zayne puts it

You smilel. “ a doctor not liking healthy foods? Strange” you comment

“ that’s a stereotype, who taught you that?” Zayne looks a bit annoyed at your mockery . “ I’m kidding of course!” You chuckle at his expression

“ here, give me the leftovers” you offer. Zayne obligates, passing you his own plate

“ …thank you.”

Looks forward to your daily visits to the hospital. If you don’t show up, he will get more aggravated

Zayne lights up upon seeing the door open. He had been checking the time regularly and he predicted you would arrive by now

“ here are the documents Dr Zayne” his assistant rolls around. Zayne can’t hide his disappointment, his smile was now a frown

“ what? Is something wrong?” His assistant judges him.

“ nothing is wrong” Zayne props up his glasses upwards, eyes now fixated on the computer screen ahead of him. His assistant knows something is wrong and realises the reason

“ your girlfriend should be arriving by now-“

“ why? Is she here? Did she come by earlier?” Zayne seems to have high hopes in his tone. His assistant smirks and Zayne feels a tease coming out of her mouth

“ why are you asking that? Do you miss her?” She places a hand on her hip

“ no. “ Zayne tries to immediately defend. “ you can tell me you know! I wouldn’t tease you” his friend tries to frame him

“ leave” Zayne avoids her gaze. The nurse sighs, rolling her eyes, “ fine whatever” she dismisses, walking out the room

Zayne curses silently, typing away at his keyboard. However not too long after, the door unlocks again. “ I told you to stop teasing me” Zayne nonchalantly scolds

“ teasing you?” He recognises a sweet voice

“ [y/n]?” His eyes are filled with sparkles upon seeing you. “ I’m not teasing you” you repeat with a smile, opening your arms for a hug

Zayne immediately gets up and hugs you without exchanging any more words. “ your late” he couldn’t help but lecture

“ sorry, there were a lot of wanderers today” you pat his shoulder.

“ are you hurt?”

“ nope.”

EXTRA NOTE : on one of your visits, you notice Zayne Keeps a photo of you in his office. If his ever stressed, looking at you is enough to bring him relief. However it is always good to have the ‘real deal’ in front of him.

#fluff #fanfic #angst #love & deepspace #love and deep space character #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #rafayel #Zayne #love and deepspace zayne #zayne x reader #Xavier #love and deepspace xavier #xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace #zayne x you #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #love & deepspace rafayel #xavier x you #headcannons #zayne love and deepspace

[hoseoksluna]

BLUR | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 17k

summary: one encounter with both of the males heals you enough that you don't become anything but joy.

pinterest board: blur

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, marking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, cuckold kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, daddy kink, punishment, nipple play, oc gets triggered, face riding, ass play, male masturbation, multiple orgasms, use of butt plug, raw sex, cum eating, clit rubbing

note: i want to thank oc. i've always wanted to pinch jungkook's nose and i got to do that through her. LMFAOFSJLDKFS ANYWAYS—this is the LAST part of the steam series, whoop whoop. finally. this took me so fucking long to write and idk if it even makes sense, which is why i need you guys to let me know everything that you're thinking, feeling, hating, loving. I NEED IT. so pls, send me asks. spam me. thank you. ENJOY READINGGGGG. ₊˚⊹♡

A thin layer of sweat coats your hairline. And inside your skull, momentarily, there aren’t any thoughts—none, whatsoever. They have been swept aside as the feverish evening wind carries your boyfriend’s words through the aroused energy pulsating around your naked form. Around Jungkook’s, too. 

Yoongi is still the only one fully dressed. And, adamantly, he’s taken the role of a watcher, shifting the dynamic in such a frantic way that the sole impulse that you find opening within you like buds of tree flowers is to obey. To submit to the role, externalize one that will fit it. To play along like he did, when he caught onto your scheme. 

Even though you don’t know how to particularly go about it. 

And when Yoongi walks over to the armchair in his living room, plops down on it, angles his head slightly to look at you and waves a hand towards the couch across from him, inviting you to sit, your nescience claws at you. Brutally. 

You don’t know if there are any shadows thickening in his headspace because you deem there must be a reason behind his sudden decision to turn things around. He’s been okay with every practice done so far in the playtime—he validated all of them, was in charge the whole time until he gave that control over to Jungkook. You can’t help but worry if there perhaps isn’t a catch. 

And the lower your disquiet sinks inside your gut, the higher your distrust of yourself springs, lodging in your throat. You’re not sure anymore if you’re right about anything. What if there is something you’ve done that you completely overlooked in the middle of your pleasure? In the middle of Jungkook’s pleasure? 

Once you exchange a heavily-charged look with the puppy, you hope to find a hint in the tenderness of his eyes that would help you figure it out. Though, the more you deepen the scrutiny, the more you’re met with absolute blankness. 

He’s as clueless as you. 

Bewildered, mostly, that Yoongi let him have the upper hand. 

Your finger itches to hook around his, but you only angle your head in the direction of the living room, dubious to listen to your body, intentionally wary. You make the first move and you don’t sit down on the couch like Yoongi motioned you. No, you sink your knees into the space beside his on the armchair, the leather creaking beneath you. Wrap your arms around his shoulders. Study the depth of his gaze as he focuses it on your face, looking for the hint, for anything that would lead you to it. Bury your fingers into his night-tinged hair the way he likes it, the way you like to do it, too. Pull it a little to make known to him that you’re bubbling with uncertainty. 

Yoongi merely watches you, borrowing his friend’s stoicism. 

You click your tongue, disliking it. “Yoongi,” you drawl out, cupping the sides of his neck, willing his attention to be more of an intimate sort. Just you and him. You need to talk to him about this. Need a peace of mind in order for you to enjoy this. In order to please him in the process as well. 

He turns his head behind him, though. To check the whereabouts of his friend. And when you follow the same direction, you discover that his dining space is empty. 

You don’t detect any panic in you. Perhaps it’s due to the fact Jungkook never abandoned you before. Or perhaps you’ve healed to the point that it doesn’t bother you anymore, no matter who does it. And what’s more, you think he probably went to pee. 

With two fingers on his jaw, you turn his attention back to you. Leave them there. His lips curl up as he tries to purse them, his stoicism fragmenting. Eyes gentle, moonbeams swimming. The sight is so endearing to you that your own mouth mirrors his, butterflies awoken, fluttering their wings in your tummy. This is the man you love. This is the man that’s yours. Yours, only. And you’re alone, intimately, cordially. Just like before. 

“Is something the matter, honey?” He tips his chin, irises dilated and looking up at you. Latches his hands onto the fleshiness of your thighs, just below your hip bones. 

With your inhale of breath, you muster as much courage as you can. “Have I done something wrong?” 

Perplexity writes itself on his softened face. Could it be—

“No, why do you think that, hm?” He narrows his eyes at you playfully, tapping his fingers on the side of your hips. You exhale a breath that loosens your worry a little bit and your mouth rounds. He leans in to peck it. “You’ve been perfect.” 

Have you? You’re not so sure—on the contrary, what you’re sure of is the fact you can better yourself. You have to, in order to make your worries dissipate all the way. 

And you can fulfill that if you know what role to play. 

“Tell me what to do.” 

One corner of his mouth tugs ever so slightly to the side and one brow quirks in confusion. “You’re about to get eaten up. Enjoy it—that’s what you are to do.” 

You sigh, realizing you should’ve worded it better. That’s precisely what you want to do—enjoy it, but you can’t risk getting lost again. Can’t risk getting submerged. You need him to tell you who you are to be in this new dynamic he established and you don’t want to hear that you should be yourself. If you relax your boundaries, you’ll step into a dangerous territory—and you’ve been there before. 

So has he. 

“Yoongi, no, I meant—”

He squeezes your muscles. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here, you hear me?” he murmurs, one hand coming up to your hair and curling it behind your ear. And it’s these words that unwittingly, little by little, drive you to drop your own hand, your guard and your worries. The fact that he doesn’t even want to hear your better wording, too, because he understood you the first time. It guides you to think it’s not worth speaking out, not when he evidently knows better. 

And it feels nice. To have someone intelligent enough that they know. To have someone care enough that they don’t let you immerse yourself in doubts because they know the type of shit your thoughts consist of sometimes. He remembers everything you unraveled during the therapy sessions. And that feels nice. More than nice. 

Your mouth rounds again and you repeat it after him. To acknowledge yourself with it. To swallow it so it streams down your body, where its meaning can unfurl. “You’re here.” Your voice is subdued, unsure, the words foreign on your tongue. You knit your brows while you taste them, unable to identify the flavor. That is until you realize it could offend him. You relax your features right away. 

But Yoongi merely watches you with a sympathetic look, one that makes you feel terrible for reacting the way you did.

Not for long, though. 

“I know I’ve made a mistake in the past, but that’s not happening again. I’m not leaving you on your own this time,” he says and you realize that is precisely what you needed to hear, what your body needed to consume first in order to recognize the flavor of his reassurance. You caress his face in deep emotion and you try again. 

“You’re here.” It’s a mere silken sound for only the both of you to hear, but it matters—it’s enough, it’s perfect. In the distance, you hear a shuffling of feet in the kitchen, the song of the wind gaining momentum, inclining to listen to the expression of love between you—to be a witness of the right thing being done at last. And you can taste the sweetest wine of the ripest of grapes, spiced with the most vibrant of roses. You can taste home; his stability you can lean on. 

Yoongi smiles in your grasp, noting the way the words sounded different—more secure. The moonbeams liquify in his waterline. “That’s right. And because I’m here, I’m not letting history repeat itself.” He pinches your cheek, knocking your head back and forth with the well-meaning, ferocious movement. Erases completely the lingering presence of the guard and fears you’ve dropped. You laugh, softly, relieved—so fucking relieved. Joy fills your empty body, energizing you, roses rising in you. Your roses, the ones you know, fraternizing with the unknown flowers that Jungkook planted in you. And you discern that it’s you who’s in your comfort zone, in your safety zone. The males have stepped inside theirs and now you have. You inhale fresh air in your new lungs, exhale your relief. “Say it. So I know you understand.” 

“You’re here and you’re not letting history repeat itself.” Beautiful, beautiful words—beautiful consolation and kindness. A pillar of the most exceptional magnificence. Mentally, you rest against it, rest your enfeebled, exhausted body of all your needless worries and false thoughts. 

You didn’t do anything wrong. Didn’t make a mistake. Though, if it weren’t for the weak moment, you wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t have gotten the comfort you didn’t know you needed.  

So peculiar, the newness. It dawns on you that it should’ve been like this in the beginning. Healthy conversations, reassurance. Why hadn’t you done this? Why did you jump headlong, bringing along such darkness of—

You close your eyes fleetingly to shut down those thoughts. Forgetting is taking place. Newness is here. Old is gone. Like the verity that he’s here, you repeat it to yourself again and again in your heart. You can’t change what’s happened. You can only move on with the eternal perception that you’ve changed, that you’ve learned. And that’s enough. 

You brush your thumb upon the column of his neck. Back and forth, like he did with your cheek. Thankful for him. “You’re here and you’re not letting history repeat itself.” 

Yoongi isn’t puzzled you whispered it to yourself again. In fact, he embraces it. Kisses you tenderly, deeply to seal those words. They spread roots in you. Rake through the earth so the roses, the flowers can grow healthily, happily, luminously. You feel them lean into the satin touch of the butterflies that elongate their dusty wings before they curl the membranes around their radiant petals, forming a protection circle.  A dose of healing you didn’t expect to receive. Not from him, not now—not now when you’re about to be eaten out by his friend. 

It’s so surreal to you. To feel protected like that. To feel safe. Safe to now roam freely in your undiscovered sexuality because you have someone to look out for you, to possibly guide you back if you lose your way. The stability that envelopes you—you can’t bear it; it’s too good to be true. And when you take a deep breath and those roses tremble with excitement in you, in the circle, there’s nothing left for you to do but to accept it because it’s so strong, because it’s unyielding. You couldn’t move it even if you tried. It won’t let you—it’s here to stay. Here to be alongside your boyfriend, protecting you as you venture out on your perverted adventure. 

You’ve worked hard to get to this point. And now you get to reap what you’ve sown. 

Yoongi grins after the long kiss, proudness emanating out of him and you feel like weeping. You’ve done the right thing, for the very first time. “That’s my good girl.” 

The praise does something to you. Stirs you violently, magnifies the intensity of the flapping of the butterfly wings in you. Sends back feeling to the ache between your legs, propped against the linen of Yoongi’s pants. Throbbing, slapping, memories of what has been done to your pussy—you’re a meadow of wildflowers and you’re ready to be pleasured again, however you register a matter that pulls you away from this notion for a moment. 

There’s no catch. 

Because Yoongi created a new realm for both you and Jungkook with his sense of safety and comfort, there’s nothing for you to fret about. There’s no role for you to play. And, furthermore, who you are meant to be upon this ground is who you’ve been throughout the whole trajectory of your relationship. 

A good girl. 

Only this time it’s entirely different. 

You didn’t want to be yourself because, if anything were to backfire, you thought you’d have the responsibility for it. In addition to that, you thought the normalcy of your sexual life was a no-gone zone for Jungkook, which is why you’ve been racking your brain, trying to come up with ways you could differ it, so Yoongi wouldn’t get jealous. 

But things changed so drastically that because Yoongi took control, now you don’t have to be in charge of that. You’re not the artist, you’re not choosing colors for the palette. Yoongi is. 

There’s still one more thing that doesn’t add up. And you voice it out. “If you’re not letting history repeat itself, though, why are you letting Jungkook be in control?” 

Yoongi grabs your hands and holds them. “I’m letting him be in control of how he does what I tell him to do. I’m in control of the whole situation, honey.” 

You suck in a breath. To protect himself, he won’t make the same mistake again; that’s just the person Yoongi is. He’s allowed Jungkook to have the freedom of a bird in the pleasure he wants you to receive from him, but he won’t hesitate to ensnare him if he runs up against something he doesn’t like.

You find that immensely, immensely attractive. 

Hot. 

The pillar of stability, the warmth of reassurance, the absolute fucking boss—that’s your man. You lid your eyes, swearing, leaning forward to suck onto his lip, kissing him with utter desperation and he lets you. Lets you kiss him. Lets you show him how much you liked that. Growls when your hand creeps to his neglected, clothed length and squeezes it. Hums when you feel him up until you find his tight balls. Responds to your touch—bucks his hips so you focus on them more and you go mad. Interminably, mad. 

And when you swirl your tongue around his, you feel a cold, wet hand on your back. 

The magnet to your madness. The healer stands by the side of the armchair with a dew-sprinkled face and there’s a feigned, playful jealousy that you feel when you regard him, for the only dew you want on his face is one that’s your own. He washed up in the bathroom—you reckon he did it to cool his desperation, to cool the sweat of arousal that lines his skin, much like yours. You note that it didn’t work, at least not fully, because when you roam your gaze down, you discover he’s still painfully hard. Much like your boyfriend. 

You wrap your hand around him and the forbidden, exhilarating feeling of having two cocks in your grasp is too brief for your liking because Jungkook pulls your hand away again. Holds it and leads you towards the couch. You frown at him with a puckish smile, but while he tugs you away, you steal a kiss from Yoongi. A hard, quick kiss that makes him twitch—something that you get to feel before Jungkook grabs you by your pits and throws you on the couch. 

You let out a string of giggles, loving the feeling of being manhandled; loving the feeling of Jungkook being in desperate need to eat you out. Your face heats up, your body following suit, the ache between your legs worsening. Yoongi smirks, validating your enjoyment and he adjusts in his seat, which you think is dismal. You don’t want him to be neglected. You want him to be pleasured, too.

The words tumble out of you before you can think them over. “Can you touch yourself for me, baby?” 

Yoongi licks his lips. Pauses before he responds. Tortures you like he tortured Jungkook. You spread your legs to provoke him, giving him a show of the shine on your folds. It’s enough for him to palm himself briefly, as if he lost control for a split second. He takes his hand away and places it back on the armrest. “I’ll consider it.” 

The boss at play. You swear, closing your legs to squeeze them, to give yourself some sort of relief from the ache you feel. Butterflies go rampant in your tummy, but despite the buzzing tension, you feel content, safe and utterly elated. Happy. 

You expect Jungkook to say something, though he merely props a knee on the leather of the couch and spreads your legs how he wants them. He doesn’t lift them, only parts them as far as they can go. You go to grab his length again because you feel a certain magnetic pulling to it, but he catches your hand in time. 

“Behave.” He presses your hand firmly to emphasize his scolding before he lets go. Such a stark contrast to the playtime of before. You remember how he wanted you to do the complete opposite. To misbehave. Your body heats up even more, the fire compulsing your hips to sway, asking for attention. 

Another set of words tumble out of you unwittingly and you place your hands under your thighs. “I’m sorry.” 

The surprise that floods Jungkook’s features is overwhelming to you and in response, you grin, coyly. He strokes the adorable fat of your cheek. “Good girl. That’s what I like to hear.” 

You purse your lips and before the fire of that praise can lick your whole body, Yoongi speaks up, too. “Good job, honey. You learned your lesson so well.” 

Shock comes first, then fire—vibrant blue fire that scorches you whole. You blush, deeply, squeezing the leather of the couch—the praise and the validation from both males so profuse, so profound that you can’t take it. You hide your widening grin beneath your palms. “Stop,” you drawl, the sound muffled and soft, even though you don’t want them to do anything of the sort. 

Jungkook coos, pulls your wrist away, uncovering your rosy, glowy face. Then, he pets your head, fingers sinking into your hair. He forces you to look at him, to see the smile of endearment that bathes his face in light, but he does it so gently that you purr, his hold so stimulating, so titillating—his countenance so lovely, so darkly angelic. Eyes crinkled but still round, still so tender. “Who taught you to have such good manners, huh?” 

You swipe your tongue along the top arc of your lip, his gaze flicks to it and and the answer thrums in your belly warmly like a sip of a good wine. It doesn’t unnerve you, doesn’t make you afraid. In fact, it’s so tranquil and so right that you relish every syllable. “Both of you did.” 

The rays from the light side penetrate the dark one and healing takes place. Healing that you never thought you’d ever be a witness to. You know that the act of forgetting was supposed to fully sink in all three of you, but your words diverged its path. You swallow warmth and you swallow relief, watch as Yoongi gets up from his seat and mirrors Jungkook’s position, one knee on the leather, hand under your jaw. A soft set of tears rush in at the attention and the realization of what’s actually happening, and when the healer sees them, he lets go of your hair and brushes his thumb across your brow, hand spread across the side of your face. You lean into his palm, so terribly emotional, and when Yoongi plants a delicate kiss on your cheek, your chin begins to quiver. He felt it, too. Felt the gravity of those words that now dulcify his intention to make things right this time. And he kisses you again, prolongs the peck, as if to thank you for your goodness. 

When Yoongi lifts his head and bores his mellow gaze into you, it is the same relief that you’ve swallowed that you see saturating his face in effulgence. At last, it has come for him, has come to live in him. At last, it’s here. 

You’ve done it, all three of you. Healed from the pain. 

Jungkook knits his brows at the sight of the first tear plopping down onto your skin as if it physically pained him to see you cry. And before you can register the movement, he swipes the liquid emotion away and kisses the residue of it, as if it were fate itself that wrote it was meant to pour down on the right side of your face—for Jungkook to collect, for it to seep into his fingerprint. 

So much love. The air is thick with it. Your lungs tremble as you take a deep breath. The wind billows in and out, but doesn’t carry it off—intertwines its translucent body with it instead, bringing in a fresh gust of briskness into the atmosphere. No more tears stream down your cheeks; you smile at both of the males—the healer and the boss. 

Yoongi remains standing beside you. Takes your hand in his. Says a myriad of silent words of great importance that you cannot decipher as he exchanges a look with Jungkook, who merely nods at them in plain understanding. You don’t have to wonder long what was behind it. Jungkook turns your jawline to him and kisses you softly. Doesn’t let go. Prolongs the kiss until he whimpers onto your mouth, softened, too, by the healing that occurred. No tongue, just the warmed silver of his lip ring, the smooth tenderness of his mouth and the most affectionate emotion exuded into the kiss. 

The pop of the withdrawal is all you hear. You keep your eyes closed. Feel him take that kiss onto your neck, your collarbone, to your sternum. Feel the tightening of your boyfriend’s grip around your hand as Jungkook drags his lips down your tummy, where the healing vibrates and he says hello to it with his tongue, makes it feel safe. Feel the tightening compulsion to watch him as he does it and you obey your body. 

Jungkook is kneeling before you. Brows furrowed, expression so terribly serious as he understands how significant this part of you is. Sinks his whimpers into your skin while he sucks it and it’s only when you run your fingers through his silky hair that he looks up at you. And the sight of his wet eyes breaks you. 

He’s as emotional as you. 

Your throat constricts. If it weren’t for him, none of this lively beauty would take place—and if it weren’t for Yoongi, too. It is their work of art and you’re the one doused in colors of most resplendence. And you tell them, your body urges you to, while you squeeze Yoongi’s hand and caress Jungkook’s hair. “I’m so grateful for you both.” 

The healer whimpers again, letting go of your skin, leaving behind a purple memory of this heartfelt loveliness. His tears don’t escape the confinement of his waterline—he blinks them away. Blinks them even more rapidly when Yoongi places a hand on Jungkook’s bare shoulder and he gapes at him in disbelief—in disbelief that his closest friend is touching him with such gentleness after everything. You don’t allow yourself to think of the past, of the last violent touch that you saw, but you can’t help the emotion rushing in your eyes. You let go of Yoongi’s hand to clasp the one on Jungkook’s shoulder, deepening the love. 

And you press a loud, exaggerated kiss on Jungkook’s forehead to make him laugh—like he did that one time by talking about his worm. To distract him, if there are perhaps any overbearing thoughts in his mind. 

Now his disbelief is directed towards you. Mouth parted, wrinkles between his brows. You burst into laughter and it triggers his. Yoongi’s, too. It’s your breasts that bounce now and none of the pairs of eyes flick to it, fixed still on the glamorous gracefulness that blossoms out from your face. Jungkook shakes his head, cheeks awash with redness, irises glinting with a spark you’ve never seen before, and you consider your job done. He tells you to lay back down, but his grin lingers. 

Yoongi takes your hand back in his and you perceive that he needs it, that he needs to hold you. You smile at him, fluttering your lashes, blowing him an air kiss, and he nudges his nose against yours to remind you to enjoy this. You begin to prepare yourself, taking a deep breath—

It hitches in your throat harshly. Jungkook kitten licks your clit with deep pressure, just once, lifting his head to watch your reaction. The reverberation of the pleasure causes you to moan and he smirks at you—what’s worse, he winks at you, so terribly smug that he coaxed such sound like that by one lick and it makes you tremble, needing more. He can see it, but he tortures you, keeping his hands on your thighs. 

And when Yoongi reaches behind himself and sinks your headband with yellow kitty ears into Jungkook’s hair, you’re done for. You must’ve left it there when you were doing your makeup. Jungkook doesn’t acknowledge it, however. Too drunk by his first proper taste of you to do so, glossy eyes transfixed by that flesh of yours. 

It suits him so well that you coo at him, grasping his neck to pull him back to your cunt, but he doesn’t let you. Your heart begins to thump with hard beats and you grow desperate, whining, looking at Yoongi to make him do something. 

He merely smiles at you. “Be patient.” 

At his words, Jungkook lifts your legs and begins to focus on the back of your thigh, marking it, groaning against your skin, inhaling your mango scent. He roams his tongue all over and you whine louder, finding it so unfair that you have to wait for it, that he reinforces your neediness by those hard kisses and sucks, by his sounds, breaths and control. You grind your hips, the ache between your legs made unbearable by your helplessness and Yoongi stops you by placing his hand on your lower belly. 

“Did I not tell you to be patient? Be good,” Yoongi scolds, lowly, rubbing the place in slow circles. Your whine is bratty, but you nod your head, pouting, halting all your movements, becoming still like the wind that has come to stay and observe the unfolding of your daydream. 

At your submission, Yoongi creeps a finger to your wet clit, testing you. Doesn’t do anything beyond that and once he sees you’re well-behaved, he plunges the same finger into your mouth, giving you a taste of Jungkook’s saliva. You mewl, sucking it. The healer watches the act in deep thought, your skin in his mouth, and you’re certain an idea flashes in his mind. 

Jungkook straightens to his full height, proving you right and the feeling is utterly gratifying. Reaches behind him and grabs the tall glass filled with water that you never noticed he put on the coffee table. Yoongi withdraws his digit and inspects his friend’s doing with curiosity. Jungkook takes a small sip of it without taking his gaze off of you, tips it to your mouth right after and you realize he did it more so it wouldn’t overflow, as you take a well-needed sip of your own, rather than to refresh himself. That is until he does something that completely shocks you, ripping away your delightful proudness of being proven right. 

It is something between a yelp and a moan when the coldness of the water drops onto the skin of your chest, scattering it with tiny, pellucid pearls that almost pool by your violent heart. The demo before the full game; your breathing gains as much speed as the throbbing in your clit. Jungkook inclines the glass again, holds it as a longer, thicker trail trickles down your body—from the middle of your breasts, across your tummy until it reaches your cunt. And the contact of the liquid with the hotness of your swollen seashell? You groan, rolling your body. So much that you slap your hands down on the leather, gripping it with all your might, needing something stable to hold onto, to release your pent-up desperation. 

Amused, Jungkook sets the glass down and kneels back down. Licks a long, torturous stripe from your clit up to those pearls, following the path he mapped out while zeroing his stare into yours. You part your mouth, your madness closing around you again, puffing out short breaths and subdued, desperate moans and when Jungkook closes his lips over your neck and begins to suck, you turn your head towards Yoongi and roll your eyes back. Struggle to keep them open as you feel that muscle of his tracing patterns on the sensitive skin and Yoongi knows. He knows how good it is for you and he kisses you like he means it, mimicking what his friend is doing around your tongue. 

Your sounds grow in volume. Your desperation, too, in intensity. 

“Please.” 

Jungkook emerges from your neck but wraps a hand around it, nonetheless. Is as close to you as your breath, his nose bumping into yours. He squeezes your column firmly before he curtly turns your jawline away from Yoongi. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat under his forearm, if he can feel how desperate she is for him, too—in a way you don’t understand. “Please what?” 

He opens your mouth wider and spits. 

Shock comes first like a thunderbolt, spreading across your veins, paralyzing your body. Then it blurs into a tumultuous arousal that seizes you whole, that makes you beg for more. No one has ever spat in your mouth, not even Yoongi. You’ve never liked it in porn, but experiencing it first-hand gives it another meaning. The dominance, the absolute film of lustfulness caking his face, the estimable seriousness that wafts off of him. He’s turned you into a boneless putty, his putty, and you want him to do it again. 

“Spit in my mouth again, please—please.” 

Jungkook grunts. Shadows surround your vision as you narrow your eyes in sheer pleasure at his sound, biting your lip to cage in your worsening desire for him—but he saves your lip, pulls it away from your teeth and opens your mouth wide. You ogle him as he sloshes his saliva in his mouth above you before he taps your tongue, signalizing you to stick it out for him. Once you listen, he spits hard onto the muscle that waited for it. You moan, satisfied, swallowing it right away and showing him. 

He pokes his own tongue in his inner cheek, fire blazing in his as equally narrowed eyes, the act of spitting in your mouth making him beyond fucked out. You can sense it deep in your core and your obsession with it grows. 

“You’re filthy, but so good. It’s making me lose my fucking mind,” he says, hazily, fingers squeezing your throat for a heartbeat. The momentary lack of oxygen gives you a perfect demonstration of his words and the moans you let out are so breathy, so choked out that he takes your madness and makes it his own—loosening his grip and kissing you nastily, licking into your mouth, both hands traveling south to your breasts and kneading them harshly, pressing your nipples between his fingers. 

And when you utter the words rising vehemently in your throat, he takes the demonstration to otherworldly levels. “Thank you, Daddy.” 

Jungkook cocks his head at you and drags his teeth painfully across his bottom lip, swearing. His eyes darken, at last. Thrill sizzles beneath your skin and you feel an upsurge of adrenaline, the aftertaste of the title so sweet, so delicious on your tongue. “As if you didn’t deserve it already, I’m gonna take you to heaven for that.” 

You laugh softly, brushing your fingers through his hair, anticipation joining the adrenaline. “You like me calling you that?” 

He hums his agreement and you don’t feel Yoongi, you don’t even feel his hand; your vision, surroundings, persona blurring so rapidly. “Daddy’s gonna make you feel so good. All you have to do is come for him as many times as you can. Thank him that way. Is that clear?” 

You shiver at the use of third person. Never thought you’d find it as alluring as you do. Brush your thumb across his brow like he does it to you. He coos, kissing your hand, sinking his body lower. Touched by the gesture. “Yes, Daddy. That won’t be too difficult for me to do.”

Jungkook gives you a smile that envelops you in an aura, where it’s just you and him. You don’t have the brain cells, nor the will, the desire to stop it. “That’s a good girl. On her best behavior for us.” 

It wakes you up and the feeling of Yoongi’s grip on your hand returns, the circle of the aura withering. Disappointment descends in your gut, one that is soon forgotten when Jungkook sucks your clit into his mouth. 

The squeak you let out would be embarrassing if you weren’t so out of your mind, but the confidence it came out with, the seductiveness and beauty—Jungkook shows you how much he liked the sound by humming against your sensitivity, the appreciation smothering every fiber and nerve ending of your body, hoisting you up towards the canopy of clouds. He swirls his tongue around the flesh, sucking deeper before he opens his mouth wider and licks you all over, closing his eyes and moaning, reveling in the feeling of you, the scent of you and the warmth of you. He toys with your lips, chuckling in delight when he acknowledges himself with them, burying his mouth completely in them, kissing them, caressing them with the puffiness of his pillows. 

He’s pussydrunk—and the sight of it intoxicates you just the same. 

And then he pauses. Kisses your clit. The peck so ardently earnest that he sucks it in the process. Does it again and again until he tinges your femininity in the faintest, daintiest, most dreamiest tone of red, prettier than any flowers you’ve ever seen—so akin to the wash of color scattering along his cheekbones. Then, he rubs his face in you, vigorously, moaning against you so intensely that your sounds become one. 

Raising his head, features drenched in your dew—just like you wanted it—his chain taps your cunt in long staccatos. The pleasure is so dizzying, along with his looks, that you feebly jump at every contact. It reminds you, vividly, of the spanks you like so much. “Pussy so fucking wet and pretty for me. I’m gonna destroy you.” 

It’s only at this time that you hear Yoongi smug but quietly laugh. He draws close to your ear and his hardened breath steals your attention from his friend’s praise. “He makes me wanna taste you, too, and make you come repeatedly on my tongue. Fuck, honey. I want that so bad.” 

You mewl, about to burst at the seams, unable to take the double relish given to you from both men. Yoongi latches his mouth onto your neck, causing your eyes to roll back, and it sparks up some kind of competition in Jungkook, for when he dives back in—you scream. 

The flicks of his tongue are so brutal that your lungs heave. You take many breaths but you can’t catch them, the heat from Yoongi’s kisses and the rapidness of Jungkook’s movement numbing your body to the point that you’re rendered powerless. 

Jungkook alternates between fast flicks and long swipes from your entrance to your bundle of nerves, parting your lips so he can have easy access. And being spread like that, attended to by two males that you have strong attachment to, the kitty ears bobbing up and down as Jungkook devours you—your orgasm chases you down, the knot in your lower belly pulled so taut that it takes a mere heartbeat for it to snap completely. 

And when you come, Jungkook laps you up, grunting in insatiable need for more. Your body violently shudders, but he keeps going, widening his swirls of tongue around your clit before he rubs it with the tip of his nose and—

He begins to fuck you with his tongue. 

You don’t feel anything. Not your heartbeat, not your struggling lungs—just the hard jabs of his tongue inside your hole, pushing you closer and closer to paradise. Not heaven, you’ve been there, but to something beyond. A paradise of the warmest color and sunlight, swaying trees and a pool of the most refreshing water. 

And Yoongi’s noise of joy is the bird that flies past in that place, dipping to its reflection. “Daddy’s so good he’s giving it to you better than I ever did.”

It’s those words that make you come again. 

He laughs, fondles your nipples, holds you steady as Jungkook prolongs your orgasm by strenuously sucking your clit and you sob hard, tingling all over, senses gone, everything gone. You feel so lightweight, so airy, dopamine and oxytocin making your head all fucked up. Happy, satisfied. 

Jungkook withdraws, kissing your clit one last time, licking it slowly. “You came so hard for Daddy, well done,” he praises, mouth wet, face as colorful as the meadow of flowers in you, gleaming iridescently. “But I’m not done with you.” 

You moan, wanting more, badly. Take him by the neck with both hands and draw him closer to you, the chain stimulating your breasts. You kiss him hungrily and the taste of your dew causes you to let out such obscene sound that Jungkook and Yoongi growl simultaneously. Dulciness, with a hint of piquancy that makes you even hornier—the slipperiness of his mouth making it worse. “I want to ride your face. Please, please, let me.” 

Jungkook smiles at you, pecking your lips, faintly. Cocks his brow at Yoongi. “You’re gonna give the princess what she wants?” 

Your eyes follow the sharp line of his jaw and you bite your lip. Don’t think twice about taking that skin into your mouth, licking it over, watching as Jungkook closes his eyes at the contact. Musk, the forest, wood—you carry your still lingering hunger and unravel it upon the spot beneath that strong jaw, devouring that scent of his, aware of how his breath lodges in his throat. You mimic what he did to your clit there, enjoying every second of it, enjoying his reaction as he hums and thumbs your clit, waiting for Yoongi’s approval. 

And you quicken it by begging for it, squeaking little sounds, beckoned by that slow motion of his digit. “Please, Yoongi. I want it so bad.” 

Badly enough that you force your head away and look at him. As much as you thought there would be puzzlement to his face, what you detect is far more sinister. His smirking mouth tells you that he is simply pleased with the way you’re begging, with the way he gets to torture you. And not just you, but Jungkook as well. Ego high—his control at full play. You don’t blame him, not at all. It must be delicious to him in the middle of all this healing. 

“Ride him well, make me proud.” 

The joy springs in you so fast, but you don’t have the time to take in it. Yoongi gets up from the couch and you apprehend that you were very, very wrong. 

You haven’t healed to the point that it doesn’t bother you when Yoongi leaves. 

Your panic is so enormous that you rise, your movement so rigid that Jungkook stumbles, his arm quick to wrap around your chest, pulling you back onto the leather beside him. And you don’t see the twist of his brows, the deep clefts of his dimples while he scowles. No, you watch your boyfriend’s back as he makes his way to the dining table, your heart expanding in your throat. 

“Tell her at least where the fuck you’re going,” Jungkook grumbles, ever the healer who senses your emotions and the fact he stood up for you like this makes you mouth merely round, your otherwise triggered trauma unsettling the rest of your feelings. 

Yoongi returns a moment later with the butt plug and lube in his hand and with a solemnly guilty face. Kisses the top of your head in apology, but it’s not enough. Not when you can’t hear your heartbeat. Not when you can’t swallow. Not when your mind is so numbed by the recurring panic that you cannot even hear your mind. 

“Don’t do that to me,” you whisper, but the words are firm, piercingly sharp, important and gravely, so much that Jungkook, with sticky hands by his sides, stills next to you. 

Yoongi cups your chin, a dominant gesture, but you glare at him—masculine strength being the last thing you need right now. You may have foolishly thought your healing was complete and as much as it knifes you to be proven wrong, it’s the fact you expected more from him that hurts the most, especially after he promised you he’d be here. But maybe it’s foolish altogether, to be in hidden demand of him to tell you of his whereabouts, notably when you never voiced it out for him, not once during the therapy sessions, not once during the course of this perverted adventure—the matter of the gravity of your abandonment issues. 

You point your anger at yourself and fall to a dark, dark abyss. 

And you pushed yourself there on your own because you were incapable of reminding yourself of Yoongi’s reassurance, mind too blurred, too fucked out to remember. 

“I’m sorry, honey. I’m still here. I never left you.” 

You nod because he’s right. “I know now. I didn’t remind myself. It’s my fault.” It’s as much of a surprise to your ears as it is to Yoongi’s. He widens his eyes at your honesty before tenderness swims past. “I’m really sensitive right now.” 

Jungkook rubs circles on your back with his thumb and you welcome his touch, his warm energy.  

Yoongi caresses your face. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. What we’re doing here is pretty overwhelming. But I’m here. I got you.” His words hold the same firmness that yours did and it’s difficult for you to grasp how they’re mending you, how they’re swooping that darkness in their arms and flinging it away from your reach. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Not one thing. Let me make it better for you, hm? You want me to make you feel better?” 

Emptiness plummets down your body, in place of the darkness and the anger, and the moonbeams in his eyes engulf it, filling it with its pale light. All you can do is nod, too weak to express any other form of affirmation. 

Yoongi kisses the place on your cheek beside your ear, slipping inside his words. “Good girl. The best. I’ll make you feel better. I’ll make you happy again, my love.” You sob at the pet name, at the tenderness, at the comforting feeling of Jungkook’s hand on your arm, pulling you back so you lean against his chest, participating in your healing. The round valley of his tattooed bicep nudges you in your cheek as he cages you in and you nuzzle your face into it, hooking both of your hands on his forearm. Musk, forest and wood suffusing your senses, along with a strong dose of safety. “That’s it, lean against him like that. Daddy will help you forget, too. Spread your legs for us.” 

You do as he says, needing what he’s promising you—needing it from them both. Maybe then, when it’s from such a vast source, will you get your full healing. 

Yoongi squirts a good amount of lube on his fingers, smearing it on your pussy. The coldness of it enlivens you and you lean your head back against the hardness of Jungkook’s chest, pressing your lips against his bulging muscles. And when Yoongi begins to massage your clit in slow circles, the healer tightens his hold around you, hand gripping your shoulders, the other one gliding down your tummy and staying there. Nipples pebbled against his forearm, breasts full and squished, your form safe, tucked, pleasured in the whole enormity that he is—you relax, giving yourself over to the delight of your boyfriend’s fingers. 

He sinks two of them inside you, stuffing you to the brim and pausing there. Jungkook sneaks his towards your bundle of nerves, resuming the circles, breaths hot against your scalp, gaining pleasure from pleasuring you, especially so when your healing is the primary goal behind it. 

And when Yoongi begins to fuck you, his hand drops from your shoulder and settles over your tit, pinching your nipple between the knuckles of his thumb and forefinger. You cry out and it drives your boyfriend to pump his digits harder—to the point that you can’t see the in and out motion, the pace so fast it becomes a blur. 

“Let go, honey, come on, let it go for us,” Yoongi murmurs, putting his whole body into his intention; you would move along with him, too, if Jungkook weren’t holding you so tightly. “You feel so good around my fingers. So tight, so wet. Such a good girl, getting what you deserve.” 

Jungkook quickens his circles, gruff groans muffled against your scalp. “You can do it, sweetheart. I know it feels good when we touch you like this.” 

Your body drips in sweat and only when Yoongi agrees, pistons his fingers faster into you do you fully let go. Your anger, your trauma, your darkness leaves you in the form of your dew and Yoongi collects it in his hand. Doesn’t stop fucking you, in fact encourages another one and you spill until your wetness overflows from his hand. Eyes rolling back, hips lifting, legs spreading even further apart. Both men praise you, but you can’t hear them—your senses silent. 

They come back to you when Yoongi licks his digits clean, swallowing your pain. Doesn’t waste time and turns you around, your sore, sensitive body colliding into Jungkook’s. And like him, he dives into your pussy, licking you clean, not having enough of your darkened taste. 

You’re so out of it that you can only focus on the brush of Jungkook’s hand down your hair and the overstimulation that seizes you, that you can’t do anything about other than take it. “Coming so well, so many times for us. You feel better?” 

You can’t answer his question, not when Yoongi begins to trace your tiny, virgin hole with his tongue, giving you a new kind of pleasure that you’ve never felt before. Your eyes whisk to the back of your head and Jungkook cradles it, understanding whooshing past his eyes—understanding that you can’t speak, not when you’re experiencing something so extensive. He smiles down at you, squishing your cheeks. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Fuck, you look so pretty.” 

Your choked out moans are enough of an affirmation for him. He coos. Then, a squirt of lube. A finger slowly going in. A gasp, a warm breath that Jungkook inhales, feeling it with you. The uncertainty in your eyes that he instantly smooths out. “You can take it. You’re such a good girl, why wouldn’t you be able to take it? Just relax. I got you.” He kisses your nose and you want to weep in joy, so overcome with it all. 

Per his reassurance, your round muscle relaxes and sucks him in. And when he begins to fuck you, you can’t contain your sounds. So lewd, so dirty, and Jungkook emboldens you by scrunching up his features, groaning with you, taking breaths with you. You give in, entirely, feel another orgasm coming, but Yoongi rips it away. Wants you to come around the thicker toy. 

The coldness of it makes you tremble, although the hunger both of the males awakened in you for it drives you to move your hips back, helping Yoongi insert it in. It takes a few tries, a few ins and outs before you welcome in it, before the fullness enthralls you so much that you become even needier, even more confident and seductive. 

Yoongi presents you to his friend, but each movement you make causes you to be more desperate than you’ve been the entire sultry night. Everything is heightened—every touch, every enjoyment of praise, every sliver of attention and all you want is to be fucked. Brutally, ravagedly fucked. 

To absorb the sight of you as you’re positioned on your hands and knees, Jungkook begins to make love on the skin of your behind with his tongue. You feel every word of apology compressed into it. For every bruise, for every red splodge, for every acute pain caused, no matter how much you enjoyed it in the moment. It’s just between you and him, shielded by the premise of desire stirred by your adorned tiny hole. And you keep it that way, whimpering for him sweetly, validating it for him. Tucking it safely into every chamber of your heart. 

Then, he strokes the flesh, replacing the bad memories with good ones—replacing the past with the present time. Lies down between your legs and pushes your hips down onto your face. 

And you ride him. His tongue, his nose. Fondle the kitty ears askew on his head. Let his moans envelop around those chambers of your heart, protecting them. Let his eyes seal your scorching, enchanting femininity with all its spirited confidence. And once he pacifies the grinding movement of your hips and takes control, palming your breasts, lips sucking your clit, tongue toying with it, you come in seconds that are not pathetic in nature, but outright exhilarating. 

You lean back against Yoongi, out of breath. He wraps his hand around your throat. “What do you want now, honey? You want to get fucked?” 

You hum, the idea clutching your body in tight excitement. “Yes. Badly. Please.” 

At your words, Jungkook begins to tug at his length and the needy movement reverberates throughout your entire body. You coo at him, enjoying the view and you get on your knees in front of the couch to watch him, inhaling his sounds like he did yours. 

“You want us to take turns? He stops, as if he was seconds away from coming, and you wrap your lips around him, letting him know how much you like the idea—at which he trembles, pulling you away. You grin at him in pure joy. “Like the sound of that?” 

“Fuck yes. Please. Both holes.”

Jungkook hisses, round, dark eyes rolling back for a split moment, losing himself—thumb swiping across your mouth once he comes back. “Daddy’s so fucking needy for you. Come here.” 

He manhandles you. Like a child he carries you to the dining space and bends you over the table. You turn your head to see where Yoongi is and he slowly swaggers towards you and Jungkook, popping his button open and pulling out his length. Tip red and painfully swollen, length long and hard—longer than you’ve ever seen it—balls tight. And when Jungkook begins to fuck you sluggishly with the butt plug, you grip the wood of the table with all your strength, fingertips white, and watch as it drives Yoongi to fuck his fist. 

The same fist he cups under your chin when he reaches you. “Spit.” 

And you do—at the same time that Jungkook forces out the silver toy, tongue immediately coming to whirl around the stretched muscle. Like before, as Jungkook fucks you there, Yoongi fucks his fist. The sounds that spill out of all three mouths are simultaneous, creating a harmony fitting just right for the paradise you find yourself in. It’s such a vigor that he eats your ass with—he does it much differently than Yoongi. Hungry and feral, he again buries his face in your ass, squeezing the flesh, before he drills the muscle with fast, strong jabs. You can’t see anything, the pleasure so intense, so darkly intense and heavily pressured that your vision remains perpetually in the back of your head. Your orgasm closes down upon you swiftly, at once, when he rubs your clit with all four fingers, not expecting it at all as no flashes danced across that night-doused canopy of nothingness before your eyes, no body heat nor pressure rose. Jungkook secures your release by slipping the butt plug back in, smacking his mouth in delight. You slump against the table, boneless. 

Jungkook takes your arms and pins them behind your back, angling the hot tip of his cock at your entrance. “You ready for this?” 

Your yes is but a tweet. 

Jungkook hums, breaths hard. “You want this cock?” 

This time, your yes is a louder screech, vibrating through the whole apartment. 

“Hm, I’m gonna stretch you out for him. Make your hole nice and big for all the cum we’ll dump you with. You’re gonna take it all like the good girl you are, aren’t you?” 

Both of your holes, your muscles, your organs clench at his words and you can’t halt the litany of vulgar words and agreement from pouring out. His grip around your intertwined forearms is deathly and when he fills you to the brim, tip kissing your cervix, walls stretching around his thick girth little by little and gives you a singular, hard stroke that shakes the table, you scream so loud that the sound echoes around the room, carrying it out into the feverish night. 

Your words are jumbled, a perfect mess, and it takes more than a few tries for you to get them out coherently. “You’re—you’re giving me all of it?” you ask, because if there’s more inches for you to take, you’ll die.  

Jungkook chuckles, darkly, lips at your ear, his body heat enveloping yours like a chunky blanket. Sneaks a hand to your hip bone. Sinks a little deeper until his pelvis touches yours, his heat spreading into all of your pores. You gasp. “I’m giving you every.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Inch.” Thrust. “And it’s all yours, sweetheart.”

You’re breathless, weak, and it’s a slow crescendo, the way he begins to roll his hips, the way he straightens and the fresh wind goes for the imprint of sweat of your and his origin on your back, cooling it, though he rips the briskness away almost instantaneously, repeating his hard stroke, the table banging against the wall. Doesn’t give you the time to prepare. 

“Can you take it?” he asks, along with that dark chuckle again. Your hands begins to tingle due to the way he’s gripping your wrists, your blood at a standstill. “Can you take us both, huh?” 

Brutal thrust. Just what you wanted. He takes you by the throat and presses you against his chest, kissing you with such vulgarity that you moan into his mouth, the fullness you feel only heightening it. He grinds in response, hands descending to your breasts, kneading them, pinching both of your nipples between his knuckles and thumbs. “Pretty fucking girl.”

You whine. 

He withdraws, then. Motions over to Yoongi. The loss disappoints you. 

A man of his word, Jungkook stretched you enough for Yoongi to easily slip inside you to the hilt. You expect him to give you a few strokes before giving you over to his friend, and you prop your hands on the table to ready yourself for it, for Yoongi’s hunger as he’s the only one who hasn’t felt any pleasure over the course of the adventure. 

But Yoongi only grips himself and pulls out. 

A thicker length. To the brim. A slender one. And they repeat it until all you can hear is the madness of their aroused laughter, their grunts and their pants. Hands all over you. The feeling is so overwhelming that everything becomes a blur. You don’t know whose hand is touching you, whose mouth is kissing you, whose cock is drilling you, senses ascending to a place beyond the paradise—

And then you feel both of their tips toying with your abused hole, acting, feignedly—drawing in and out, never fully penetrating. 

A short-lived moment that causes you to forget who you are. 

“Oh, god,” you drawl, slumping against the wood, helpless. They continue to take turns in fucking you fluidly, the symphony of your slick so loud, so filthy to your ears. You’re numb to the point that you don’t peep a sound, disoriented and so adrift in the place beyond paradise that they took you to. 

Jungkook takes control once he hears your call for help. Begins to piston his length inside you rapidly until stars take shape across your vision, wrapping a forearm around your neck similarly to the way he did in the middle of your healing, digging crescent moons into your shoulder. Stops your head from knocking back and forth furiously. You feel his sweat drip down his pelvis—and with each hard thrust, its pearls jump over to your skin, trickling down your trembling legs. The pressure in your core is but a heartbeat away from bursting. You sense it—and you sense it vehemently. 

“Are you gonna come around my cock or around his, hm? Whose is it gonna be, sweetheart?” 

Your body answers him for you, your walls tightening around him so resolutely that Jungkook stills, whimpering onto your neck. You come so hard that there is absolutely nothing else that you hear but that whiny sound—and all you can see is the stars gaining vibrant colors to their pointed shapes, various, various colors that blind you. Colors that, like you, get dumped with hot, ivory, thick cum. 

Your orgasm triggered his. 

You mewl like a little kitty cat, so pleased that he came in you, so pleased that you felt it, that you felt the twitching of his cock. Pleased that when you gape at him, you can see how spent he is, content and illuminated like those stars. 

You want to lick him up. You want to taste that glow on your tongue. 

His cum drips out of you when you turn around. Jungkook collects it with two of his fingers and pumps it back inside you. The look you give him is almost predatory, so awfully fierce that he grows faintly timid, post-nut clarity cocooning him in a soft aura, bringing his puppy nature back to him. 

You sit back down on the table and spread your legs for your boyfriend, but your gaze remains fixed on him. Blindly, you reach for Yoongi’s hand, drawing him closer, and he happily obliges your silent command. Lines himself up at your entrance and pumps Jungkook’s cum deeper into you. 

You let the puppy see the exhilaration springing up your body, tugging the corners of your mouth to each side. The glint in your eyes. The pure joy that you feel. Then, the falling of that expression as it blends into a depiction of your pleasure—furrowed brows, pout, narrowed lids. You don’t take your eyes off of him. Not even for a second. 

In fact, you curl your fingers in beckoning. And when he comes to you, you lick a stripe of the sweat coating his defined abdomen, tongue rolling around the valley of his hard muscle. Kiss the skin before you suck it into your mouth, moaning when Yoongi goes all in—fucking you with all of his energy. The taste of his glow only betters the experience, but you don’t think you can come again. You enjoy it, nonetheless. 

And when you turn your attention to your boyfriend, deeming he deserves it—Jungkook steals it in typical fashion. “Feels good?” Light, much bigger than yours, covering his eyes. You nod, humming, girlishly so—the sound pitched. “You’re gonna come again? For him?” 

You consider it an impossible task, but for him you’ll do anything. “I’ll try.” 

Jungkook makes a sound of approval, leans in and kisses you gently. Yoongi turns your chin to him and as soon as your lips touch his, you feel his cock twitch. Unlike Jungkook, he fucks you through his orgasm, groaning loudly into your mouth and you reach to the place, where you’re connected and squeeze his balls, wanting his cum, needing it.

And when Yoongi emerges from his bliss, he smiles at you, breathing out a soft laugh. Features relaxed, drowsy. You give him a smile, too, the same tiredness engulfing you. 

Slinking out of you, you discover he came so vastly that his male essence trickles out of you. You graze a finger across your slit and you gather so much of it that as you take your hand towards your mouth, it plops onto your stomach. You giggle, high on the hormones released through your body, high on the happy males watching you, high on life—high on rightness. The joy doesn’t even let you wrap your lips around your finger, adamant on showing them how well they gratified you by keeping them stretched in a dopey grin. 

They’re so endeared by you that the same expression graces their faces. Exchanging a single glance, they start at once—picking you up like a child. Yoongi by your legs, Jungkook by your pits and it’s him, the healer, who leads the way to the bathroom, walking backwards hurriedly. 

Though promptly, when putting you down, your legs are so sore, so weakened that if it weren’t for their arms, you’d fall onto the tiles. Giggles and obscenities are swallowed by the crooning sound of the streaming hot water in the shower and you sigh so deeply once it touches your skin. It alleviates the ache of your muscles, alleviates the throbbing memory of the last time you were under that burning cascade—especially when Yoongi twists your body, making you face Jungkook; especially when he says the words that quicken your heartbeat. 

“Wash her clean.” 

Making things right. Erasing that afternoon that ended in blood and bruises. 

The wet, puppy eyes you give to Jungkook are enough for him to do as Yoongi says, mirroring your mien, greatly affected by the permission, by the act of something so forbidden untangling its inextricable knot. It happened so suddenly that he doesn’t truly believe he’s allowed to do it, hands shaking by his sides, clenched into fists. It is only when Yoongi begins to shampoo your hair that he’s spurred to do something. 

And you help him. With a thudding heart and tight emotion lodged in your throat, you hand him your favorite almond-scented body wash. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from you when he spreads the aroma on your sternum. Doesn’t blink once, doesn’t let his eyes wander south to your body—as if it was sacred, as if it was not meant to be looked at with lust in this intimate scenario. 

And you don’t feel fire when the heat of his hands glides down your neck, your shoulders and your arms. You feel something else entirely, something you can’t really pinpoint. Something holy, something so immensely heavenly. Maybe it’s brought about by the fact that he doesn’t touch your intimate parts—not your breasts, not your vulva. The only time he comes near to it is when he leads you into his chest and carefully, while peeking down, tries to pull out the forgotten toy. You sense Yoongi’s hands on your backside, watching over, and the feeling of being rid of it is so uncomfortable that you cringe against his pec, squeezing him hard, hugging him with everything in you. Jungkook makes gentle sounds for you, encouraging you and it relaxes your body enough that it lets go of the toy. 

Grabbing your shoulders, he studies your emotions. Sees only your same old tiredness and he pecks you, descending onto the tiled floor to cleanse you of your stickiness. Isn’t grossed out by the male essence that isn’t his. Kisses your trembling muscles on the apex of your thigh. Cradles your foot, massages it. The other one, too. 

And when Yoongi rinses out your shampoo and the bubbles of your almond body wash, Jungkook tells him, gravely, “Wash her where she needs it.”

You’re so touched by the fact he doesn’t dare to lay a hand there in a non-sexual environment that it doesn’t leave any space for shock to come through. Your finger itches to hook around his, but you take one step further—you slide your hand into his. And like a child, you let yourself be washed in between your legs as Jungkook, like a father, watches over it. 

Once you’re clean, the males take their turns. You observe the bubbles, the white foam, their veined hands gliding along their glistening bodies and, alternating, you touch them, helping them in a way. Touch the love bruise upon Jungkook’s abdomen; touch the indistinct happy trail on Yoongi’s. Rinse them off. 

Needing to be held, you guide Jungkook’s hands to your waist and fold your arms around Yoongi’s shoulders, but both males think differently. Squishing you in the middle of them, they hug each other, each head buried in each crook of your neck. You feel their hearts beat as one and it nearly lulls you to sleep, its healing beauty soothing you to the point that your lids become heavier. And the three of you stand there, in a cozy, homely embrace, until coldness wraps around you, too. 

They let you do your thing on your own. 

Once you come out of the shower, Yoongi kisses you and asks you if he should bring you any clothes. You merely shake your head and he leaves it at that, following Jungkook out of the bathroom. 

You lather your body in your mango butter in your aloneness. Blowdry your hair. Do your skincare. Note that there aren’t any thoughts in your brain, just deep, content silence swimming around with happy hormones. You’re so grateful for it that you could weep. 

To bed, you wear your newest purchase. A pink lacy camisole with matching bodycon shorts. You slide your feet into your fluffy slippers and as you make your way into the living room, you hope with all your heart that Jungkook hasn’t left. You haven’t exchanged many words after the sex and because of that, you knife yourself with the expectation to find only Yoongi lounging around in the sitting area. 

Midwalk, you bind it all into a loose braid. Don’t use a tie to seal it. Merely flip your hair back—with the futile wish it would untangle. 

And it does when you find the males smoking on the balcony with the door wide open. Jungkook, fully dressed in the outfit he came in. Yoongi, wearing his pants. You let out a quiet breath of relief, stooping to the ground to pick up your robe and the cheese ball, a dreadful twinge in your lower body alarming you. And then, you notice that someone folded your little sheer outfit neatly on the chair. 

“I wasn’t able to touch her after you,” you hear Yoongi say, the wholeness of the starry night plating his low pitch. You still your breathing, the perplexity from his words forcing you to whisk your head in his direction. “All I saw was my shortcomings… and—and I didn’t know how to please her anymore because you showed her new things. I felt less than. Unable to be the right person for her sexually.” 

Your heart shrinks so much it pains you. Yoongi never told you these things during the therapy sessions. He mainly spoke about the sexual moments at the cabin, but never about the ones after, never about what truly bothered him on his healing journey. He bottled it up. Your throat fills with bile. 

“Has what we did tonight changed that?” Jungkook asks, shoulders tense. “We practically did the same things and she was more than pleased.” 

Your heart grows back to its full size at the positive mention of you. You rise to your full form, flinging the cheese ball into its empty bowl before folding your robe. Your ears perk in waiting for his answer. 

“I think so.” The bile sinks back down, along with the pain coated with sadness. “I also think we should do this again.” 

Your mind doesn’t allow your body to exult, knowing the reason why he said it. 

He wants to either finish the hidden healing or… check if it has come to an end. 

The tension doesn’t ease in Jungkook’s shoulders. “Only if you work hard and focus on her. I’m not consenting to this if you only touch her with me being present.”

Silence in your heart—a skipped beat. You don’t want to hear any more of that conversation. You put away your robe and grab the dishes, washing them in the sink. 

No matter how much dish soap you use, you can’t scrub away the healer’s magic off of your hands. It pelts under your skin, to and fro, over and over as you repeat his words in your mind. Gives strength to your fingers as you hold the unusually heavy plates and bowls, the tiredness a hefty burden on your shoulders, weighing you down. 

Such a good man. You’re so grateful to know such an extraordinary being like him. A good friend, the best you could wish for Yoongi. A good lover, too—

“I think it’s way bigger and deeper, this relationship and how I feel about it. I can’t help it—” Jungkook’s voice no longer a far-off murmuring, he halts his words at the sight of you. Calls your name. “I thought you were asleep already.” 

You turn off the tap water, ignoring the question in your body about the incomplete sentence he uttered while being under the impression you were beyond hearing distance. Think you’ve learned and come about plenty enough of things tonight. You want to go to bed. With both of them. 

You don’t say your reasoning behind why you’re here. Deem it’s pointless. “Let’s go to bed.” 

You reach out your hand for him, but it is only the wind that encases your palm. You drop it. 

A chaos of shoulds and desires swarms in him. You can see it, vividly. “I should go home.” 

You’re having your way, you don’t care. “No. Stay.” 

Jungkook calls your name again. Yoongi licks his lips, smiling, fondly. Walks towards you and grabs your hand, leading you towards the bedroom. The puppy stays fixed on his feet, not comprehending that you want him to sleep in Yoongi’s bed and not on the couch. 

You raise your hand again for him. “Come, you’re sleeping with us.” 

Jungkook has gone commando under his jeans. You eye the sliver of minimal hair on his pelvis and before you can ogle his worm, he cups himself. 

Unabashedly, you click your tongue in disappointment, even though the recollection of your private decision to have his boxers as a keepsake, approved by him, suffuses your exhausted body in delight. 

You get under the sheets, right in the middle, watching as Yoongi hands him his gray sweatpants to wear, holding your breath when Jungkook turns around and you gain a perfect view of his round, toned ass. 

You’re certain that man will be the death of you. 

Yoongi crawls into the bed, nuzzling into the crooks of your body that he knows well, cuddling to your arm. You hear him inhale the scent of your shampoo. “You smell so good.” 

You stroke his forearm with your fingernails, transfixed by the way the waistband of the forbidden pants hangs low on Jungkook’s hips, by his slow, seductive walk that you don’t particularly think he’s doing on purpose. That’s just what makes him him, which worsens it all. 

In similar fashion, he lays down beside you, but he doesn’t turn to his side as your boyfriend has done. No, like you, he rests on his back, hands by his body, touching you without meaning to. His warmth environs you, but you notice that a good half of his body isn’t covered by the sheets. You fix it right away, tucking him in—tucking the fabric right under his chin. 

He gives you a strange look that makes you giggle. “You want me to burn?” 

Oh, men and their body heat. You’ll never grow tired of it—it’ll forevermore fascinate you. 

You shush him. “Sleep.” Pinch his nose, deepening his funny scowl. “Goodnight, sweet dreams.” 

Yoongi begins to purr beside you and you know he’s halfway on his journey to dreamland. You lay back down, hip to hip with both males, hands on your tummy, your eyes languidly fluttering closed.

A hand on your thigh. You open them fleetingly, surprised at the contact, before they close on their own.

“I’ve missed his purring,” Jungkook whispers, thumb brushing across your smooth skin. Just once. “Haven’t heard it in a while. It’s better than brown noise.” 

You laugh, softly, agreeing with him in your heart. Submit to the call of your own dreamland and you turn to your side, facing Yoongi, propping the back of your hand under your chin. 

But then Jungkook folds into your form. 

Mirrors your position. Arm around you, hand relaxed on the mattress an inch away from your tummy. 

It makes you feel funny. It makes you wild, your body gaining the tiniest tendril of energy. You curse him, mentally, although you don’t mean a single word. 

You feel his gentle breath fanning the nape of your neck. Along with it arrives the need for him to touch you. You purse your lips, burying your head deeper into the pillow in effort to shake that off and focus on relaxing your body—

“Hyung?” 

He hums in response. You curse him, too. 

“She didn’t come when you fucked her.” 

Your eyes fly open. The audacity this man has—

Tense, tense nothingness. It thrums uncomfortably under your skin. 

“Lemme make it right.” 

Radio silence in your heart, its profound waves shaking through your entire body, tearing off its drowsiness. 

“Okay, Jungkookie.” 

Your gasp is so minimal, yet Jungkook feels it. He presses his palm against your stomach, pulling you closer to him. Yoongi turns to his other side, as if giving you the privacy for what Jungkook wants to do to you. 

Reposing halfway on his back, halfway on his side, he maneuvers your form to mirror his position. And for the longest time, you both just lay there while Jungkook brushes his fingers along your clothed body. Back and forth, in circles, in peculiar patterns that soothe you. You thought you’d fall asleep this way, but the touches keep your body awake, promising it things in a silent language that it so evidently wants. 

And it isn’t until Yoongi begins to snore that you perceive Jungkook waited until he entered his deep slumber. The breath you let out is loud, absorbed by your boyfriend’s much bigger ones, but it makes Jungkook hold your jaw steady as he draws his lips close to your ear. 

“I didn’t like that he used you,” he whispers and his words fill your body with something foreign, something that drives your brows to knit, your muscles to clench, for butterflies to stir awake, although you disagree with him. Yoongi didn’t use you. You don’t really think he did. When you motioned him to take his turn, you expected to come again, but your body was so spent that it wasn’t able to do so, which is completely okay in your opinion. “If I fuck a girl and I come first before she does, I don’t stop until she creams all around me. Even if it hurts.” 

You remember him pushing you away when you wanted to keep going after he orgasmed. “You don’t like to be overstimulated, though.”

He snickers again, softly and lowly. “And yet I don’t stop.” Both hands on your tummy, he glides them down, towards your hips, towards your thighs before he drags them back up. Lifts up your camisole this time around, getting a feel of your skin. Rubs circles. “I want to make you come like you deserved to. Can I?”

“I came a lot of times. I don’t know if I can.” 

Jungkook caresses your bottom lip with his thumb, angling your jaw towards him. “We can try and see if you can.” 

We. He kisses your cheek and you pout in his hand. Brain turned off, too numb by all the orgasms, the attention and the affection you’ve received, you take the other one and slide it beneath your shorts. Feel an onrush of freshness in your lungs when he whimpers at the contact of your lips with the pads of his fingers and you move your hips back against him, gaining another sound of similar nature that willingly tempts your madness to return to you. 

He’s hard. 

You grind your backside against his thick imprint, loving the feeling of it, loving the soft noises he makes as if he was trying to stifle them, but you were making it awfully difficult for him to do so. 

“Don’t do that or I’ll cum in Yoongi’s pants.” 

Your laugh is feral. Quiet, gentle. An oxymoron that could only belong to his name. To his art. The idea of him coming in your boyfriend’s pants drenches you and he gasps once he discovers it, teasing your entrance. 

“You want me to come like this?” he asks and you hum your agreement, his fingers ascending to your clit, stroking it in slow, slow circles. His breath hardens in tandem with yours and he swears. “But I don’t and you will listen to me.” 

He pulls out his hand and you whine, catching his wrist, bringing it back where it belongs. On your clothed, now swollen clit. You grind your hips with more fervor, just to work him up, just because you enjoy it and he fists the material of your shorts, stimulating you with the seam, dominating you through and through. 

You merely beam at him, illuminating the room, fisting his cock. “Don’t stretch out my new shorts.”

“Don’t provoke me and we’ll reach an understanding,” he retorts, swirling his tongue around the bone of your jaw before he kisses it. Responding to it, you grind your pelvis back, angling your hips so his cock fits just right in between your cheeks. He tuts in disapproval, shifts a little bit more to his side nonetheless, pulling you flush to his body. “No, other way sweetheart. Grind your pussy against it.” You try it, placing your hand on top of his, unsure and he helps you, guiding your hips with his, grinding upwards, as if he was fucking you. You mewl at the pleasure permeating your veins and with his free hand, he clamps your mouth shut. “Yes, that’s it.” He tightens his hold on your shorts, hoisting it higher. “Feels so good like this, doesn’t it?” You nod, your noises loud, only slightly muffled by his clammy hand. He shushes you, breath hot against your ear. “You gotta be quiet. We don’t wanna wake Yoongi up, do we?” You shake your head ‘no’, squeezing your hold on his hand. Jungkook lets go of your shorts and slides beneath them again, fingers spreading your new arousal on your clit. You squeak again, terribly sensitive and turned on, bound in his arms. “I told you to be quiet. Do you know what happens to girls who don’t listen?” 

You’re glad to hear he didn’t add “to me”, for some deranged reason and for that, you don’t peep a sound. 

“They get punished,” he answers for you and you can’t stop the moan from escaping your throat, the idea of getting punished by him again making you utterly, utterly delirious. 

He strains his fingers around your mouth until it hurts, but that’s not the reason why you draw it away. You do it so you can speak. “Teach me a lesson, please. I need it.” 

You wish you could see his reaction, but the darkness keeps it to itself. You can only hear the sharp inhale of breath he takes—and you can feel the twitch of his cock against you that divulges to you that he’s gone mad just the same. 

While silence takes place, he drags your shorts down to your thighs, the tight cotton preventing you from spreading your legs. He moves you so you lay on your back and from this position, you sense Yoongi’s body heat and the lift and fall of his chest, though he still remains facing you with his back. Jungkook lifts your camisole until your breasts are exposed. And then, he props the back of your head on his bicep, clamping your mouth back shut. He looks down at you and you can only slightly make out his features. The glint of his lip ring irradiates him. Mercifully. 

You want to kiss him so bad. 

“How does Yoongi punish you, hm?” 

The question shocks you, coaxes out a string of your arousal to drop down your clenched thighs. Whilst he waits for your answer, he grazes his palm down your sternum, your stomach, your mound. Leaves it there. 

It’s your body that responds out of its own will, not your brain. You can’t, for the life of you, think. He allows you to speak. “With his words. His cock. And… with pussy spanks.” 

Jungkook hums. Puts the covers out, revealing you to himself. “Show me how he spanks you.” Your hand trembles as he lifts it. He brushes his thumb across your knuckles while he places it on your cunt, taking control of that expression of nerves. Wraps the other hand around your throat. 

When your fingers collide with your clit, you hiss in sensitivity. Decide you will only show him this way. You can’t take any more. “Like this. Gently, but firmly. So it doesn’t hurt. He doesn’t like to cause me pain.” 

He exchanges your hand with his and spanks you. With bigger firmness than Yoongi ever used. You arch your back, not expecting it with your dumb brain. He pinches your right nipple between his knuckle and thumb, making you moan softly, not having enough and enveloping it with his mouth, sucking briefly before he swirls his tongue around the nub. Your wetness rushes out, along with your noises that you’re just so incapable of stopping. You grip his hair on the back of his head and in response he flicks the muscle. Your hips buck, asking for attention. 

Jungkook withdraws, stares you dead in the eye. “I’m punishing you for making a sound and yet you do as you please?” 

You swear, eyes wide. “I’m sorry.” 

He spanks your clit. “Sorry what?” 

Remembrance flashes through your mind. “I’m sorry, Daddy.” 

“Hm, that’s right.” He rubs your clit rapidly. Spanks it again. Your moans come out in strained breaths. “That was for the curse word. Say you’re sorry.”

But then, you can’t help but mewl at his fatherliness. “I’m sorry, Daddy.” 

He pecks you, deeply. For the title, for your good manners or perhaps to silence you—you don’t know. “How sorry?” 

His fingers find your clit again, strumming it, lips moving against you in a passionate kiss. Your brain malfunctions. “So sorry,” you whisper onto his mouth, gripping his hair.  

He spanks you, softly, for pleasure, then continues. “You won’t say it again?” 

“No.”

A sound of approval. “Good girl.” He sinks his middle finger inside you as far as your restrain allows him, fucking you slowly. The pressure of delight begins to build in you. “One more?” 

“Yes, please, Daddy.” 

Ring finger joins in, instantly. “Such a good girl. I love hearing you say that.” He jackhammers into you a few times before he stills, thumbing your clit. The fullness, the stimulation on your most needy part—it’s enough to make you come and you feel it chasing you again, nearing and nearing. “I want to fuck you like this with my fingers and have that toy on your clit. The one we used the last time. Keep the setting low, so it wouldn’t wake him up.” 

A curse word rises on your tongue, but with the last brain cell you have—you swallow it down. You’re tiptoeing before the edge, knot tight in your tummy, pressure so enormous, and you tell him. “I’m gonna come.” 

He lifts his thumb. “Hold it.” 

You panic, faintly, standing still before the edge, face to face with your orgasm, close, terribly close. “I can’t.” 

Jungkook shifts. “You will.” Bends you in half while keeping his fingers inside you, mouth latching onto your soaked cunt. 

Takes control of your orgasm as he begins to toy with it, building it little by little with sluggish circles on your clit with the tip of his tongue. Then, he wraps his lips around it, nibbling on it and resumes the movement of his fingers, fucking you steadily. 

The pleasure is so new, so different that you feel as though you’re levitating in heavenly places. You grind your hips against him, meeting him, but briefly. When he sucks your clit, he stills your motions and spreads shakes across your entire body. “Come for Daddy, sweetheart.” 

He flicks his tongue—and you do. You come so violently for him that you grip his hair with all your might, surprised that he isn’t wincing in pain. And he doesn’t stop. 

He keeps going until all that’s left of you is nothing but the cordiality of your high and those shudders, licking you up, devouring all that you’re giving him, wet fingers spread on the back of your thighs. 

Then, he sets your legs down, straddles you and kisses you nastily. Makes you taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue and he enjoys the principle of it all. Enjoys giving back to you what you leaked for him. “I could have you come on my tongue all night.” He pecks you, swirls his tongue around yours. “You kept quiet through it all. Good girl. You learn so well.” 

You’re speechless, satisfied, sensing something approaching you that you fail to understand. Something bigger than attachment, but smaller than feelings. Connected to his healing gift or perhaps invented from it. Something that’s smack dab in the middle, growing in you, and you submit to it, unafraid of it. 

A certain desire fraternizes with it. You push at his shoulder, wanting him on his back. As if he senses what it is, he stays put. Solid as a rock. In both ways. 

But you’ll have your own. 

You tug the waistband of Yoongi’s sweats down his hips and grasp him in your hand, spreading his thick arousal down his length. Jungkook’s breath shakes, but his words don’t. “When did I tell you you could do that?”

You grab him with both hands, squeezing him. He hisses, muscles bulging along his arms on either side of you. “I’m sorry, Daddy. Can I?”

He coos. “Only because you’re so well-mannered.” Nods at you. “Keep going. Make your Daddy feel good.” Your Daddy. The fire it sparks in you, you put its wholeness into your movement—jerking him off, twisting your wrists, using all of your strength. “Hands off.” He spits on his head, the trail long and delicious to your eyes and you’re quick, you’re desperate, to resume and make him come, ache pressing down on your pussy all over again. 

The slickness, his stifled noises, the snug warmth—you understand all of a sudden how he’s able to feel your pleasure because you’re experiencing it. You are pleasured because you’re pleasuring him. But still, you want more. You press him against your clit. “Fuck my hands like this, please.” 

He repositions your hands. Slides them lower on his length, so his tip can stimulate your bundle of nerves. And when he begins to thrust, you’re transfixed. 

By the roll of his hips, the clenching of his abdominal muscles, the evident delight overwhelming his body. You can’t take your eyes off of him. Especially not when he lets his guttural vocality loose. 

You smile. “You should be quiet.” 

He laughs down at you, softly. It vibrates in your core. He kisses you, humming into your mouth. “You’re right, but it feels so good like this. Doesn’t it feel good on your pussy?” 

You nod, biting his lip, angling your head and devouring his mouth, plagued by his arousal, by his pleasure, by his response to your little slyness. He fucks your hands faster, gliding across your clit, not lasting for a moment longer. He shoots out his hot cum onto your tummy, cock twitching in your hands, his noises muffled by your mouth. 

And he remains there. Even as he fingers you so fast that you come in seconds. Even as he takes those drenched digits, collects his male essence and plunges them into your mouth. “‘Atta girl. So good for me.” 

He cleans your folds and thighs with his tongue. Dresses you, like a child. Fixes your camisole. Puts the covers back on you and spoons you. 

Yoongi remains soundly asleep. You succumb to slumber faster than you came but before you do, it’s Jungkook’s words that lead you to that dreamland. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Sweet dreams.”

In the morning, you wake up first. And the sight you see is so profoundly beautiful that you take a moment to gape at it, folding it into your heart. 

Jungkook drools in his sleep. Celestial countenance, tousled hair in all directions, broad chest lifting and falling in absolute tranquility. He twists his features for a split second, as if he was dreaming about something uncomfortable and you’re so affected by it that you look away. 

Turn your gaze to your boyfriend instead. 

Still snoring, mouth parted. Ebony hair brushed back, exposing his forehead. The corners of his lips tug up and stay and you think angels must be playing with him in his dreams. You kiss his arm, crawling back, painfully, until your feet hit the floor. 

You take a long, long shower. Practice your gratitude, recollecting last night’s events and words spoken by Jungkook that weren’t as private as he thought. Hearing them, they were too fresh to be consumed, but now that you think about them—your own smile finds your lips and you agree with him in your heart. You can’t let him walk away after this. Can’t let him return to his normal life that exists without you, not when you’re something along the lines of attached to him. Hell, you can’t return to your own normal life without him. Without his touch, without his celestiality. Without his attentiveness and healing gift. 

This has to be a continuous relationship. 

Jungkook was the one who called it that way and it feels right. Even as you taste it on your tongue, it’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever swallowed. It fills your body with verve, one that you deem is essential at this point. One that you will need every single day from now on. 

You have to talk about this with Yoongi. The idea doesn’t scare you, despite the fact you can’t really picture his reaction. Can’t imagine which way it will gravitate towards—whether to light or to dark. You don’t mind at all, in fact you look forward to it and you wash your body with greater care than you ever handled it with before. 

With a face mask on, you take your cosmetic bag and do your makeup in the living room. The sunlight spills in, kissing your ebullient mien, and you imprint its red marks with a touch of blush across your cheeks, its lovely color with glitter on your eyelids and you finish the job with a few brushes of mascara upon your lashes and a singular swipe of a glimmering lip gloss on your lips. 

It is only then that Jungkook appears in front of you. 

“He still sleeps like a bear.” 

You’re so happy to see him that it manifests on your face. 

“Don’t try to wake him up or you’ll get eaten.” 

Placing your cosmetic bag on his lap, he sits beside you. “I wouldn’t dare.” Examines your face for a good moment. “Why are you putting this on? You don’t need it.” 

 “I enjoy it,” you say, watching fondly as he takes out each makeup product and scans them. Once he comes across your tiny tubes of glitter of various shades, light flickers in his eyes. Your heart does the same thing. And a somersault right after.

“You wear glitter?” 

You nod, a precious, girlish smile stretching your glossy mouth. “I’m wearing it right now.” You close your eyes for him, letting him see the small sparkles, resplendent of the sun. He praises you, the word ‘pretty’ embracing you tightly in all its snug simplicity, forcing your eyes open. A brighter spark shines in his irises. You brim with the yearning to doll up his eyes to match it and, having your way as always, you steal the tubes from him. “Which one do you want?” 

He doesn’t even fight you. As a matter of fact, he’s already decided. Doesn’t waste a second to reply. “The silver one.” 

Excitedly, you quiver all over. Dab the applicator on the back of your hand and lift your sight to catch him smiling cutely at you like the puppy he is. Your hand itches to ruffle his hair. Grab his cheek and bite into it. Go for his nose next. 

Whirling the pad of your finger on the splatter of glitter, you hover it above his lids. “Close your eyes.” 

He listens, immediately. You pat the imitation of his glint across that soft skin, but you focus on that beautiful, pouty smile of his. Think you’ll save his lips for last and savor them as you eat them. 

You swipe your finger for more and adorn his other eye. Take the rest and speckle it on the highest points of his cheekbones—this time with his attention all on you. 

You lean back to observe your artwork and find that something is missing. You know right away what it is. 

You dab the applicator on his cupid’s bow and drag it down his collarbones. Take care of that first before you move over to his lips. You blend it there with utmost care and he lets you, zeroining his gaze into yours. Deep, but gentle. Loving. 

To finish it, you kiss him. And it’s not because you were driven by your emotions or by that stare of his. You do it because you want to. Kiss him again, so the highlight is perfectly blended. 

He’s puzzled when you draw away, but you’re not unnerved by it. You’re firm and stable in your decisions, happy in the outcome, any hints of repercussions or doubts far, far away from you. In another world, in another galaxy. It has long forgotten your name and you’re glad for it. 

“We shouldn’t do this.” 

There he goes with ‘we’ again. It makes you weak. 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” you say, soothingness coating your voice, penetrating his negative emotion to the point that he relaxes. Before he can say anything, you continue. “I heard what you said last night. To Yoongi. That this relationship is way bigger and deeper.” Surprise and timidity bleeds into the glitter on his face and he’s unable to look you in the eye. You grab his palm, holding it with both of your hands in your lap. “I agree with you. I feel it, too. This wasn’t just a one time thing. I don’t think it was ever meant to be just for one night.”

There’s rawness to your words that make him reciprocate your eye contact. He gnaws at his lips, as if to eat away his nerves. You squeeze his hand harder and are about to continue, but the creak on the hardwood floors stops you. 

Yoongi. With his wrinkled face and puffy, but awake eyes. In a pair of boxers and nothing else. You stand up to your feet, dropping Jungkook’s hand, and you go to meet him halfway, but you don’t make it far. The soreness between your legs won’t let you.

He grins at you, wrapping his arms around you. “Can’t walk?” His taunt is loving and scrunch your face at him. “Good morning, honey.” 

You kiss his bare chest. “Good morning.”

Yoongi moves over to Jungkook and places a hand on his shoulder. “Sleep well?” 

Wet softness in his eyes. “The best sleep of my life.” 

“So, I want two boyfriends.” 

While Yoongi made coffee for all three of you, you were more than happy to make breakfast. Scrambled eggs on avocado toast—one that Jungkook chokes on upon hearing your words and one that flings out of Yoongi’s mouth because he bursts into a violent laughter. 

You laugh along with him—so hard that tears well in your eyes, slapping your palm down repeatedly on the round wooden table. Yoongi mirrors your movement on Jungkook’s back as he fights for his life, red in the face, eyes wide. 

“What did you say?” the puppy croaks out, bewildered, letting go of his bread and you feel terribly bad for him, for shocking him so enormously. 

The decision came upon you suddenly while you cooked. Easy, smooth. Appeared on your heart that sprang it up to your mind. Gave it pros and cons—good friendship, good sex, good time; Yoongi might get jealous and/or possessive, nothing else. It made sense to you, grazed your attachment ever so sweetly. How else would you keep last night continuous? Even Yoongi went around the matter when he talked Jungkook’s head off, asking him if he’d been with other people after you. 

Boyfriend simply means that. No other people—just you and Yoongi. 

You weren’t going to keep it to yourself. Even if there was a risk of it going downhill. 

It’s not relief that you feel upon hearing Yoongi laugh—it’s a river of liberation, concocted with absolute joy, coursing in your bloodstream. He woke up in a good mood. Woke up happy. And you fold that fact into your heart, hoping it stays for a long time. 

“Eat your toast, silly,” you say, smiling, eyes crinkled. Take a bite of your own. Happy that Yoongi is happy, happy that you’re eating your favorite fruit, sitting again at the table with your two favorite people. “You heard me.”

“Oh, fuck,” is all Jungkook says, whisking his eyes to Yoongi, who’s chuckling, bending down to pick up the piece of toast he was in the middle of chewing. 

You look at him, too, waiting for his response. 

Yoongi brushes his hair back, a lazy smile on his mouth. “I think it’s a fantastic idea.” 

You grin so hard that your cheeks hurt. The river in you speeds its stream. “Thank you,” you exclaim, rubbing his arm, quivering with excitement. “I say we mess around and have a good time. We can go on dates.” 

Jungkook relaxes a little bit, furrowing his brows as he chews on his toast. 

“She wanted two cocks, don’t tell me you didn’t expect this,” Yoongi says to his friend, patting your thigh. “I did.” 

Perhaps that’s why he had such a hard time in all of this. He knew it was inevitable—and he worked his way through it until he ended here. Fine with it. Healed. 

“When did that happen?” you ask, sliding your hand down to his. 

“When I decided the first time I was gonna give it to you. Then, again when I promised you we were gonna make this work,” he says and you pout at him, so grateful, so touched. He squeezes your thigh, looking at Jungkook. “I can see your questions all over your face. Out with them.” 

Jungkook has finished his toast, brows still furrowed as he swallows. He leans back in his chair, manspreading, hands intertwining behind his head. Pokes a tongue in his cheek, smirking. “Don’t kill me for this, but,” he starts, showing his teeth. “Do I get to have her to myself? Without you? And vice versa?”

Your heart beats ferociously in your chest. Yoongi pauses for a moment, thinking about it. He let him do it last night, he let him have you to himself, though under different circumstances. You figure what Jungkook meant is whether he can fuck you without asking for permission and the idea exhilarates you. 

And the vice versa part. Jungkook is one sly—

“It won’t be instant, but we’ll work hard. Work our way through it until we’re all comfortable and happy,” Yoongi finally says and you kiss his hand.

You’re so overwhelmed with joy that your blood buzzes. 

Jungkook nods. “Of course, I understand.” 

“Is this something you want?” Yoongi directs the question at you and you nod. 

“Yes, once you’re ready.”

Silence settles like fine dust. You finish your toast quietly and as soon as you’re done, you deem Yoongi should know about what happened in the late hours. “We didn’t fuck last night. While you slept. It didn’t even cross my mind and I wouldn’t do it unless I had your… blessing.” 

Yoongi cackles at your choice of word. “Good girl,” he praises. “You’ll get your blessing soon. I promise.” 

You look at him for a long time and you wonder if there’s anything he wouldn’t do for you. 

“So, it’s settled, then,” Jungkook says and places a hand on the table, opens it for you. You grab it and he squeezes you. “Let’s celebrate.” 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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

#jungkook x oc #yoongi smut #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 #yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine

[alphareaper21]

Regina george x masc reader

Regina George was the queen bee of North Shore High School. With her long blonde hair, perfect figure, and designer wardrobe, she was the epitome of popularity. She ruled the school with an iron fist, and no one dared to cross her. However, there was one person who dared to challenge her, and that was the new girl in town, Y/N.

Y/N was unlike any other girl at North Shore High. She had short hair, wore masculine clothes, and was not afraid to speak her mind. Her confidence and individuality caught Regina's attention from the first day she set foot in the school. But what really intrigued Regina was Y/N's complete disregard for her social status.

As Regina and her clique, the Plastics, watched Y/N from afar, they couldn't help but be curious about her. They had never seen anyone like her before. It was almost as if she didn't care about fitting into their high school hierarchy. And that's what made Regina want her even more.

One day, Regina decided to approach Y/N in the cafeteria during lunch. As she strutted over to her, all eyes were on the queen bee and the new girl. Y/N looked up and met Regina's gaze, not backing down or showing any signs of intimidation.

'Hey cutie, can I borrow your salt?' Regina asked, flashing her signature smile.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, unamused by Regina's flirting. 'Sure,' she replied, sliding the salt shaker over to her.

Regina smirked, taking note of Y/N's lack of interest in her charm. She sat down next to her and struck up a conversation, inundating her with compliments and trying to win her over. But Y/N remained unbothered, talking to Regina as if she was just another person.

After that lunch encounter, Regina found herself thinking about Y/N constantly. She had never met anyone who was so unimpressed by her status and beauty. It was a challenge that piqued her interest, and she was determined to make Y/N hers.

As the days went by, Regina continued to pursue Y/N, trying to get her to join the Plastics. She even set up a makeover session for her with her stylist and bought her designer clothes. But despite Regina's efforts, Y/N refused to conform to their standards of beauty and popularity.

Slowly but surely, Regina began to see the world through Y/N's eyes. She started to question why she felt the need to control and manipulate those around her. She had never truly been herself, always trying to fit into the mold of what society deemed as perfect. But Y/N didn't care about any of that, and it was refreshing to Regina.

One day, Regina invited Y/N to a party at her house. Y/N accepted, curious to see how the queen bee lived. As the night went on, Y/N found herself having a good time, despite the superficiality and drama of the party. But what really surprised her was when Regina pulled her aside and confessed her feelings for her.

'I know I can be a mean girl, but when I'm around you, I want to be better. You make me want to be a better person,' Regina said, looking into Y/N's eyes.

Y/N was taken aback by Regina's vulnerability, and for the first time, she saw the real person behind the queen bee facade. She couldn't deny her feelings for Regina either, and they shared a passionate kiss.

From that moment on, Regina and Y/N were inseparable. The Plastics were shocked when Regina announced that she was stepping down as queen bee and that Y/N would be taking her place. They couldn't understand why Regina would give up her power and popularity for someone like Y/N.

But Regina didn't care. She had found true happiness with Y/N. She no longer felt the need to be anyone else other than herself. And with Y/N by her side, she no longer craved the attention and validation of others.

As for Y/N, she had found love in the most unexpected place. She never thought she would fall for someone like Regina, but their love was undeniable. They were two individuals who had broken free from the confines of high school stereotypes and found solace in each other.

The once mighty queen bee and the rebellious new girl had defied all odds and created their own path. They didn't fit into any high school clique, but they found a home in each other's arms.

Years later, when they both looked back at their high school experience, they realized that it wasn't the popularity or the social hierarchy that mattered. It was the people who truly saw them for who they were and accepted them without judgement. And for Regina and Y/N, that person was each other.

#lesbian #wlw #wlw post #regina george x reader #regina george #regina george x fem!reader #reneé rapp x fem!reader #reneé rapp x reader #renee rapp #renee rapp x fem!reader #renee rapp x reader

[narcissarina]

HIII! How are you, pookie? Here a request.

Honestly I love vendetta Leon, I think he has so much potential in fics! So, I was thinking about grumpy vendetta Leon who gets paired up in a mission with agent reader who is younger than him and they're full of life, literally a sunshine.

Leon sometimes would be bothered by reader's attitude, like 'why are they so happy?' or something like that, but after finishing the mission he would get used to reader, yet he would be his usual stern and cold himself. After some months of working together, Leon starts liking reader because they make him happy or something like that. (they could end together like a couple. You can make it fluff, angst or smut, it's up to you! I also loved your last fic, bodyguard Leon it's just another level 😭)

I'm doing fine lovieee!!! Ty for the request ^-^! Ngl I had an idea and idk if you're into a crossover trope but I DID IT>:)) Reader from SHIELD from the marvels!! Two different agents working together for their agency benefits omg. Hope you like it pookie!!😭🤞 lil smut in here😍😍

Crossed Paths𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ

MarvelAgent!Reader x Vendetta!Leon

Word count: 3,546

𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎.

Leon thought to himself, “why can’t I have a peaceful vacation?” His peace always gets interrupted when he had been given a chance to enjoy his day off, even if it means his vacation is drinking his problem away and get wasted.

After that mission, he was assigned yet again to another. He took his flask out to clench his thirst but Chris quickly took his beloved alcohol away from him, “come on, Leon.” Chris sighs and put the flask aside, he earned a grumble from Leon as the tired agent sat on his seat and lean back.

He doesn’t know why he’s still here, his mission’s finished, right? Can’t he go back to his vacation and drink away? Why did the D.S.O assigned him to another mission when they clearly gave him a day off, he hasn’t been able to enjoy his break the fullest.

“Why am I here?” He asked himself, Chris cock a brow and elbow on his knees. Nudging his friends leg, “you good?” he asked, Leon hums and spread his legs apart—his mood shifting and his patience running.

Voices broke out, coming closer to the two.

“We’re glad you have convinced Director to have you work for us for a while, agent.” A males voice was heard, a heels that belongs to a female clicks as a soft chuckle was caught, “it’ll benefit both us, that’s why it took director to agree.”

The door was swung open, Leon’s eyes darted at the two individuals—he recognize the man but the woman beside him, he didn’t met before nor does she works for the D.S.O, Leon tap Chris’ shoulder with the back of his hand and point directly at you, “who’s she?” he asked in a whisper, Chris shrugged and respond, “probably from a different agency base on her attire,” the males eyed you from head to toe, “uhm, or a new recruit?”

“A new recruit doesn’t look like that, Chris.”

Your eyes quickly caught the two agents, Chris quickly looked away and cleared his throat—Leon on the other hand, maintain eye contact with his arms folded against his chest. “She looks young,” Chris hums to Leon’s remark, “guessing she’s in her mid-twenties or something like that.”

A smile flashed to him, your eyes smiled with your lips—as if the sun was kissing Leon all over the face. Your attire, Leon assumes it’s a uniform that all agent wears in your agency—all black, straps over your thighs, waist and chest. Fit and highlighting your curves.

“Ah, agent Kennedy!” The man exclaimed, his voice raised as he walks to the tired agent, “please to see you here, this is…” you cut him off and told Leon your name, he hadn’t heard that name before so he knew you’re not from around here.

Furthermore, Leon got the gist of it—you, from the S.H.I.E.L.D comes to work with D.S.O for a while, approximately for eight months via contract. And, he’s assigned to be with you, special mission was also been handed over to the two of you.

Chris left Leon with you after a few minutes hearing about the mission that’s been given for him and yours only, giving the tired agent the best before leaving.

“Fantastic,” Leon groans and threw his head back, “not the reaction I am expecting, agent.” You smiled and take a sit beside him, taking the file from his hand, flipping pages and humming to yourself. Silence was loud as you speak to break the eerie silence, “I never expect you in this kind of state.” You murmur.

Leon shot his head up and looks at you, “what do you mean?” he asked, “when I read your files, you were quite a charm sir.” You turn your head and grin at him, “and younger, full of life—now…” you stop yourself and chuckle, Leon doesn’t know whether he would take that as an insult or a compliment.

“You have files about me?” Leon click his tongue and shakes his head, “don’t believe ya.” He mutter, taking his flask from the other side of the table, raising a brow as you took it away from his hand, “come on!” he grumbles and rolled his eyes, “can’t drink today, Leon. We have a job to finish.”

“About the files…” you started to tease the agent further, explaining little events that had happen to his life—how you knew the shits he had to endure and how he was forced in this agent gig just to protect someone, but you didn’t drew the line. It did made the agent irritated, resulting him to walk away.

You laugh at his reaction, you will have your fun breaking down his walls bit by bit and give him the relaxation he deserves. After all, he’s been through enough right?

“Why are you here?” He groans, you smiled up to him, “I mean, gonna share some intel on our mission, no?” you remind him and share the location and what are the objectives to accomplish, Leon had no choice but to listen—he is assigned with you after all.

What he had in mind is that you’re all smiles, always flashing your teeth to him as your eyes smiles too—you’re just so… Happy, full of life and energy. And he’s, well, grumpy.

It gives sunshine and grumpy duo, you were always asking him if he got that and that he’s still listening, of course he is! He’s just wondering what kept you look sore in the eyes.

“So,” Leon starts, his tired eyes gazing to you, “the contract only last for eight months?” he raise a brow and tilt his head to your side as he question, you nod in response and cross your leg—a smile forming on your face, “yes sir, and I’ll be out of your ass after eight months.” You heard a scoff from him and drink from his flask, “that’s good.” He murmurs.

Laughing at his response, you read files about him back at S.H.I.E.L.D’s and you never knew that the man had his colors drained, well—you want to change that, add a little blues and hues to his life and it’ll give him the thrill.

“Do you always dye your hair every phrase you go down to?”

“What do you mean?” Leon sighs and asked, wondering why he even bothers hanging around with you as you swirl your drink in hand, “I mean, you were a bright bloke the night before the incident back at Raccoon City, then when you went to save the presidents daughter—your hair became a little dull and longer and so on so forth and now…” you eyed him from his chest and head, “you look emo.”

He would be lying if he didn’t crack a smile, “You’re funny.” He says sarcastically, you gave a bow; hand in chest and bow down with elegance. “Why thank you, my good sire.” You tease.

Well that wouldn’t end well, assignment had been piling up on the two of you and it result you always carrying the mission and giving Leon light works, he always asked why, your responded with: “can’t have my senior break his back.”

Even though there was the big assignment for the two of you, you help Leon first with his extra ones—paperwork and some stuff he needs to finish rather than stressing around it, saving him from the burden. Then the main event had finally come.

Retrieving an item for the D.S.O and data for S.H.I.E.L.D, wondering why can’t S.H.I.E.L.D’s best heroes do this—to be honest, they’re busy on their own saving civilizations. And you’re chill being away from them for a while, and only a month; Leon started to get used from your tactics and personality. Although he’s still his cold, grumpy, stern and glaring anyone that invade his space.

“so, what kind of monsters do you fight?” you asked, shooting at the enemies opposite side from Leon, “zombies and some fucked up shit that B.O.Ws create.” He shouts from above, you gasp and smack the zombie in its head and shot it, “you guys fight these stuff?” you speak with curiosity.

“Yeah, why’d you ask? No, what do you fight?”

“Aliens from outer space, crazy things that got in New York and oh! There was this god who uhm,” you pause, stabbing your opponent with the tip back of your heel, “who almost held the entire city hostage.” You chuckle your last word and turn to him, he couldn’t describe anything right now. Probably the word silly and unbelievable would do the trick.

He jumps down and land on his feet, stepping towards you and hand on his hip, “you got to be fucking with me.” He remarks, not believing a word that you just said, “do I look like I’m lying, Mr. Kennedy?” you hums and took your hand off the chest of the zombie, taking the heart with you as it was still beating.

“Don’t…” he points to your hand, “fucking do that shit.” He finishes and sigh, “and I don’t know whether to believe you or not, but no.” his lips turns to a thin line and his brows still furrowed, “your face looks like it hurts.” You pointed out and threw the heart in your hand away.

The agent doesn’t know what he’ll do to you, you got the energy and stamina to be optimistic about everything and he doesn’t know where you’re seeing the light.

You turn your head to him, folded your arms and shift your weight to your right—both of you covered in crimson from the enemies, “got the thing?” you question him as Leon brought the item that the D.S.O wanted and wiggle it on the air and put it back to his pocket, “how about you? Got the data that S.H.I.E.L.D needed?” you flash him the document in hand and push it to his chest.

“Tada! Teamwork, baby!” you yelled and pat his shoulder, “by the way, do we only take your bike all the way back?” Leon nodded and walks off, you followed. “That sucks, I’ll share the pay for the gas.”

You hum your way out and got to his vehicle, it’s still daylight and he never thought that the “big mission” that he got assigned on with you would be that easy, well since you carried. Leon got to give you credits for that.

“Hop on.” He lets you hold on to the documents and got on, you stared at him blankly, not moving an inch. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, groaning as he wants this to get this over with, “you know, base on the data and files that I read about you, uhm… I don’t trust your driving skills, I didn’t got killed by big enemies and here I am, going to die with your driving.” You murmur under your breath.

Leon felt insulted by that, squinting his eyes as he groans in annoyance. “It’s either I’ll drive or leave you here.” He gives out a choice, although it’s an ass of a choices but you got to his back and be his passenger princess.

One hand around his waist and one hand holding on to the data that’ll you bring back, your chin rest to his shoulder as he starts the engine and took off.

The whole ride was you telling stories about your time in your own agency, how you got in and how you met the Avengers that the Director put together, you were included on the team as well. You told Leon how the Avengers broke out a civil war, it kept him entertained by your silly stories that he finds unbelievable—well, zombies and mutated things would be considered as fictions too but it happened to him so he’ll probably give it a pass.

You both made it back safely, you kept your promise and fill his tank full and paid for it and you were delighted that you’re still in one piece after riding with Leon, you kept the document safe somewhere in your arranged office inside the agency and Leon gave the item they needed.

Mission accomplished.

But you still have four months left before the contract ends, you spent those four months helping Leon and turn him into a better version of himself—you share your point of view and emphasize with his struggle, you shared laughter and warmth with him.

It made his day, he would be lying if he doesn’t enjoy your presence. He got used to you, always greeting him with a smile first thing in the morning, coffee in his hand than the usual flask that he drinks in. Although he still looks as terrible, he thinks his mental health is improving.

There was a time that you’d go annoy him and he’ll snap at your shits, like the one time you gave him a hug then ran off after squeezing his tits.

“You know,” you start, your heels clicks as you turn to Leon, he squints his eyes—not trusting your tone of voice, “what?”

“I think you need a hug,” you open your arms wide, your lips turn to a pout and gave him the embrace that you think he deserves, with a little squeeze too. He was stun and dumbfounded at the sudden affection, “what in the actual fuck are you doing?” he hisses, but didn’t pushed you away.

“I’m hugging the most dangerous agent known to man,” you hum, burying your face to his chest, “you know, to look for a good man is to look for his heart.” You added and nuzzle, the agent gave an ick expression and question further, “heart? Why are you burying your face to my chest then?”

“Not my fault that your tits were in the way.” You respond and quickly grab a handful of his tits and squeeze it hard as you can and ran off, “son of a bitch! Get back here!” he yelled—caught him off guard as he chased after you and your giggles burst to every corner of the agency.

Hey, at least you’re giving light on the place, right?

If you’re being honest, you’d let him blow your back if he asked to take his frustration out—you’d notice his erection every after assignments that you help him with, asking yourself how he’s able to hold it all in and not jerk off. Does his dick just calms down?

You were dropping hints to him, launching flirty unsuspecting comments and small gestures but he seems to be not taking the hint, poking his buttons every time you want him to ask you for help.

Dreams do come true, maybe. You and Leon inside an unused room and a very secluded spot inside the building, your mouth shut with his right hand and his other gripping your lower back. Your back pressing against the door of the room, one leg up to his hip as his hand slides down to hold your rear and squeeze it.

Your muffle moans escaping your lips as Leon penetrates your insides, his hips piston to yours as his tip kisses your cervix every thrust he makes that made your legs go weak, his lips in the crook of your neck—nibbling on your flesh as you sense that his movements are taking his anger out.

“That’s it, take all of me.” He mutter, his fingertips digging to your flesh as you moan against his hand. “Gotta keep that mouth shut or else you’ll get both of us in trouble.” He hisses, increasing the speed of his pace that got your eyes rolling back, your gummy walls clenching to his shaft as it penetrates your womb.

Trying your best to minimize your moan, your gasp and small whimper ignites fire inside of Leon. He was pissed at some point, he always wonders why do you keep bothering him like a lost puppy.

He grit his teeth, sucking on to your flesh and biting down—holds you up in the air and humps on you with urgency, his hands grabbing your rear as he got deeper and focuses on making you feel your release, “L-Leon…” you gasp, feeling a warm sensation on your stomach, “m gonna cum.” You whine, he scoffs and planted sloppy kisses on your neck.

Your breath hitches as you gasp, your hand quickly covered your mouth as your moans are growing louder. Leon mutter curses as his hips started to spasm, he could feel you going to milk every drop of him as he reach his release. Your legs and hips jerk, your body jolted as you came to his cock—your puffy cunt milking him as he pulls and slam back in and fucks his orgasm.

“not so annoying now, huh?” he snicker and pulled out, helping you clean as your pussy was well-fucked by an older guy, you were in ecstasy in the thought of older men do it better.

He's grumpy, but he still has a heart to give you aftercare and take care of you since he made you like that. After all, you started to grow on him a little.

The eight month arrived and the contract finally ended, it saddens Leon to know this and watch you leave. Will he ever get to see you again? He thought himself that every night he went to sleep.

Who will greet him when he enters work?

Who will be delighted to have his presence around?

Who would acknowledge him as a person and not as the agent?

Who would bring him coffee and force him to drink that than the flask he drinks every night?

He got attached to you, and he feels like shit. What choice does he have than watch you go? Turn your back and look at him for the last time and say your last goodbye?

Would he ever feel your annoying presence and your lips on his cheeks every time you find him angry and sulking? Probably not, the contract finally ended and that’s that.

“my rides here.” You utter, your tone down as you look over to Leon, you smiled and keep on a bright mood, “try not to miss me so much.” You wink and stood up, “want to walk with me, Leon?” you held out an offering hand as he took it with no hesitation.

From the past few months you were clinging to him, now; he clings to you.

Hands intertwined together as he escorts you outside the building of the agency, the surrounding spacious as the ship revealed its presence—it was invisible so Leon was impressed by the technology it has.

You broke your hand to him and got to the ship, running up quickly to give the files to director Fury, “got the data? Good job, Agent.” The director praises and got inside, you on the other hand—quickly got down again and face Leon as the machine wringing and the wind blowing.

The warm of your hand connects to his cheeks, he melts right under your touch—he felt so… depress to see you go, he feels like every life and color that you pour into him will drain him eventually after you left and get back to his old drinking habits, he’d miss the coffee you’d serve him every morning and the sneaky kisses you plant to his face every time you caught him off guard.

You slowly took your hand and turn your back on him, the others are waiting and watching. As if they’re watching two people part ways that had crossed path once and won’t meet again, that’s just how cruel destiny was, right?

The sun is setting, Leon needs to act fast.

“Hey.” Leon called, he takes a couple of steps as he faces you. You look back at him, a gentle smile was on your face—it beams with the orange setting sun, it was warm and for the first time. Leon didn’t find that annoying.

“Yeah?”

The sound of the harsh wind almost blocks your voices as you answer the agent, the wringing didn’t stop as your ride and your other teams needed you to depart with them.

“Will I…” Leon chokes on his words, embarrassed to say as his eyes softens and feel his chest tightens.

“Will I ever get to see you again?”

You smiled at his question, touched by his words that he wishes to see you again. “You and I will meet again, Leon.” You chuckle.

“Someday.”

With that, you got in with your team—Director Fury guiding you back as the door slowly shut in front of Leon. The ship was now invisible to the naked eye, he knew that you were now gone.

How?

He couldn’t feel your presence anymore.

He was now left alone in the setting sun, the orange hue hitting his face as he looks at the sun itself. It remind reminds him of you, warm and beautiful to watch.

But heartbreaking to see you go and let darkness take place.

Leon wishes that someday, you two will meet again.

He’ll be waiting… in the setting sun.

Hoping that the two of you will crossed paths again.

Someone give this man a hug, a kiss, take his alcohol away (we don't want him drinking away) put him into a blanket burrito and a hot cocoa.

Don't worry, I'm just silly and he'll meet reader again>-<!!

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon x reader #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil vendetta #vendetta leon #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #↬ɴᴀʀᴄɪssᴀʀɪɴᴀ✿ᴘᴇᴘᴛᴀʟᴋs/ᴀsᴋsდ #love him<33 #silly little goose #marvel crossover #!!!

[k00sblogger]

✿ฺ ♡ ✿ฺ ♡ ✿ฺ ♡ ✿Better with two✿ฺ ♡ ✿ฺ ♡ ✿ฺ ♡ ✿ฺ

Synopsis: The one where your boyfriend uses you as jungkooks birthday gift

Warnings: cuckolding, masturbation, pussy eating, little dirty talk, messy blowjob.

Pairing: bf!joon & friend!jk x fem!reader

A/n: I think it's obvious enough but i'd like to state anyway that namjoon isn't attracted to jungkook in any way at all in this, i do not write member on member content.

(Requested by anon)

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

Jungkook was utterly obsessed with you, no secret about it.

He never failed to make subtle advances towards you despite the fact you were dating his friend. He was attractive, definitely- but you'd turned him down considering his best friend was your boyfriend.

It's weird, you know. But it didn't bother namjoon, and you weren't one to judge. He had his kinks, and you had yours.

To put it simply, namjoon liked watching you have sex with other people. Cuckolding.. however you wanna put it. He didn't know what it was that he liked about it, but it turned him on.

There were so many times he'd have to control himself from jerking off at just the thought of it. Which was why he didn't mind jungkooks little advances toward you, he liked it.

He also knew you thought jungkook was attractive, and he wasn't bothered by it. You're relationship was safe, and he knew you'd never do anything with jungkook without his permission. He also knew.. that you'd fuck jungkook if you knew it turned him on.

This was why whenever jungkooks birthday came, he used it to his own advantage. A gift for himself and for jungkook all in one. A gift for even you as well, because there was no doubt in his mind that you'd enjoy whatever jungkook did to you.

So, this was why you lay on your back between namjoons warm thighs now. Your boyfriend still fully clothed as you watch jungkook pull off his shirt at the edge of the bed.

Your tongue licks a wet stripe over your lips when you get the first glimpse of his abs. You were well aware jungkook was a gym rat, and also aware that he was super fit. Seeing him bare like this though.. was different.

Namjoon smirks at the wet patch growing on your lacey underwear, pulling back your thighs to reveal the spot to jungkook. "You're wet baby.." joon says, keeping a good grip on your thick thighs as jungkook begins to crawl in between them.

"And you're hard." you retort, drawing out a quiet chuckle from namjoon. You weren't wrong, as soon as he saw you undress his dick twitched.

Jungkook eyes are locked on yours, toying with his lip piercing using his tongue. He situates himself between your legs, using his middle finger to slowly pull your panties to the side so he can see everything you have to offer.

There's a thick string of slick sticking from your cunt to your panties when he moves them out of his way, and jungkook almost has to take off his pants when he feels them tighten at the sight.

"She's ready for you." joon mumbles, eager to see how jungkook pleasures you. Eager to see if he'd be able to make you cum without any directions from him.

Jungkook doesn't waste any time after namjoon practically gives him permission, quickly leaning his head down to lap up the juices that were dripping from your cunt just from looking at him take his clothes off.

Namjoon plays in your hair as jungkook gets to work, swiveling his wet tongue around your swollen clit as fast as he could. His tattooed hand rests on the inside of your thigh, not applying much pressure since namjoon was already holding your legs wide open for him.

Breathy moans escape your parted lips, eyes fluttering open and closed at the pleasure he was able to give you. Namjoon was good at eating pussy, no doubt- but this turned you on because it was so different than what you were used to.

When you being to squirm, jungkook lifts his head momentarily- giving you a look as if he was warning you. "Don't move." is all he utters, before leaning back down to continue eating your drenched pussy.

His soft lips finally take your clit into his mouth, sucking on it and then popping it out of his mouth. He repeats the movement over and over again, obsessed with the loud moans you were letting out.

He was oh so proud, this only confirmed his sexual abilities. The fact he was able to make you feel so good made him even harder. That is if that was even possible.

His dick was pressed right against the material of his boxers, a little wet spot where his tip sat from the pre cum he'd released. He resists the urge to touch himself to focus on you, his dark eyes still looking at your pleasured face as he licks wherever he could.

You whimper when he licks a long stripe from your hole to the top of your clit, liking the way it glistens under the dim light of the room with his saliva.

His chin was covered with your wetness, frantically moving his head back and forth as he licks over your cunt.

"She's close.. cmon baby, cum for him." Namjoons words only makes the pace of jungkooks tongue fasten- excited to see you finally reach a orgasm solely from his tongue on your needy clit.

"Cmon.. cum on my tongue sweetheart." jungkooks low voice softly encourages you, his thumb on your clit now working with his tongue to get you to your peak even faster.

It works, because your legs shake around his head as you try not to let your legs close in on him. He slurps up everything that you release, sitting up with cum covered lips as he watches you relax.

"She liked that..." namjoon mumbles, reaching a hand down to softly rub your sensitve pussy. You don't bother to move while you catch your breath, too lazy from the orgasm jungkook had just given you.

You get a good thirty second break before jungkook rises from the soft mattress- releasing his stiffened length from the annoying constraints of his boxers.

You can't help but stare shamelessly when you see it, his body was perfect. He had little prominent veins leading from the base up to the tip, and a slight curve that made you wanna get on top of him and ride him until you couldn't take it anymore.

It isn't until now that you see a small tattoo just below his happy trail. It's too small for you to read from the distance, but you know you liked it.

You look away for a moment when your boyfriend slips his his thumb into your mouth, staring at your pretty face from above since your still lying between his thighs.

"Y'know.. it's jungkooks birthday." he utters, and you nod, sucking on his finger out of instinct. He smiles at the act, shoving his finger even farther into your mouth when he notices how you welcome it.

"It would only be write to return the favor yeah?" he asks you, and thats when you see jungkook coming closer. Namjoon helps you flip over, getting you onto your bruised knees right in front of his horny friend.

The slight pain in your bruised knees reminds you of the way you were just in the same position below namjoon a couple of days before.

You nod again, staring at jungkook as he stands above you with pure confidence. He grips the length of himself in his tattooed hand, holding it just at the base with his tip right above your waiting lips.

"You want it?" jungkook questions, and you notice how namjoon moves out of the way- lowering his sweatpants.

"Yes.. jungkook." you mumble, and he takes a hold of the nape of your neck to push his mushroom tip past your lips. You immediately taste the salty pre cum that was left on his tip, but you don't think much about it when he reaches the back of your throat.

His pelvis is touching your face, groaning at the feeling of your mouth wrapped tight around him. It felt even better since he'd thought about this moment so often, stroking himself to the thought of you letting him fuck your face.

He release a gutural groan as he finally pulls back, sinking back into your mouth right after. He doesn't give you any breaks, fucking into your mouth just to hear you gag around him.

"Such a slut.. letting me fuck your mouth in front of your boyfriend." he chuckles, biting his lip at how your salivas now smeared over the length of him.

His fingers massage your head a bit, obsessed with how you weren't complaining at all. Sucking his dick with no back talk, he liked that about you.

You don't forget that your boyfriends still watching all of this unfold, and you even look over at him while jungkooks still inside your mouth. His sweatpants were just below his balls, and he was touching himself slow and steady.

His lip was tucked between his teeth, letting out little moans everytime the tip of jungkooks dick reached the back of your throat. He enjoyed the way you kept gagging, but you took it anyways- like the good girl you always were.

"Pretty baby.. sucking me so good." he mumbles, hips moving at a crazy pace as he bobs your head back and forth on his dick. Your eyes are clamped shut, focusing only on making him cum.

His little grunts are loud, the only thing heard aside from your muffled whimpers.

When your eyes divert back over to your boyfriend, he's already came- dribbles of cum falling from his tip and leaking onto his pelvis and the length of him.

The sight of it all made you wet all over again, and the only reason you don't get up and go clean him up is because your too busy with jungkooks dick down your throat.

Finally, his hips are slow to a complete stop. He pushes himself in to the very brim when he cums, sighing as it all shoots down your throat. Of course, you swallow everything he gives to you- fuck spitting.

You take in a huge breath of air when he finally pulls back, and as your wiping your lips you see the tattoo again. This time your close enough to his pelvis to read it.

Jungkook doesn't notice how your now looking at him with squinted eyes, reading the sentence tattooed on his body.

"Lick it."

How fucking ironic. You were not surprised at all, with the way jungkook just had you sucking him off- he obviously was a whore himself.

He liked having sex, who could blame the guy?

You stand to your feet when namjoon walks back over, his boxers now covering the part of him that was naked just a second or two before. He kisses your cheeks as jungkook puts his clothes back on, tucking his softening dick back into his blue jeans.

When jungkook turns around to face the two of you again, namjoon pulls you to his side- gesturing at jungkook. "What do you say y/n?"

Oh shit- you almost forgot.

"Happy birthday."

#bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook x oc #bts x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jk smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #namjoon fanfic #namjoon one shot #namjoon

[daenysx]

hi love <3

first off i wanted to say that i find myself lurking in your blog way too much than I should (i mean i have a life and i cant spend all day reading your fics, OR CAN I?) and i love how you write and hejsusjsjsj you just make my day, so i hope you’re having a wonderful day gorgeous💗

second of all, can i please request either a poly marauders or a sirius (or James whichever you think fits the story better) x fem reader where her birthday passed and just no one seemed to really care except for the boys? Some of her friends forgot and some others gave a half hearted birthday wish and she just feels sort of unloved? and just lots of hurt/comfort/cuddles/fluff hehe thanks

if u cant tell, im projecting🤧 my birthday was on the 9th and lets just say it was not that important of a deal for most people :)

you are the sweetest angel, my love, happy late birthday!! i'm really sorry, you deserved the best birthday and i hope you can accept this little fic as your birthday gift!! ♡

it's my first time writing for poly!marauders, please share your thoughts with me!!

poly!marauders x fem!reader, fluff + a little hurt/comfort

your cheeks ache from giving smiles to your boys all day.

it wasn't an eventful birthday for you, but it was so so nice. you woke up to kisses from james, his whispers of sweet nothings as remus came back to your side from kitchen. sirius's hair was wet from the shower he took as he does every morning, you and james watched how remus took care of his curls from bed. you spent more than an hour just staying in bed, feeling more loved than ever with their words and kisses.

when remus finally convinced you to leave the bed, james offered to carry you in his arms all the way to kitchen. "anything for my birthday girl." he said, your lovely boy. sirius kissed your lips as he handed you a cup of coffee, pancakes and fruits were just like you enjoy. a perfect birthday breakfast, you laughed at every joke sirius made, accepted every forehead kiss from james. remus was giving you heart eyes, you blushed from the attention you got. he gave you an easy smile and you blew him a kiss.

the boys had plenty of offers for your birthday celebration but you decided to stay at home. you wanted a quiet day with them, just being lazy and careless. thinking about wishes and dreams about your new age. you liked how easy it was to do as you wanted with them, no explanations or excuses needed.

you could hear the whispers coming from kitchen when james got you comfy on his chest, cuddling on the couch. he kissed your hair, your arms tightened around his body. legs tangled, fingers curled up on his shirt.

you checked your phone, the screen was bright, showing there's a birthday message from lily. you smiled, replied her long text. there were other texts from a few of your friends. well, technically they were birthday messages but- none of them felt like they actually wished you the happiest birthday. why would people text like celebrating someone's birthday is a chore? you frowned, couldn't accept the fact that you were in fact, waiting for something better. didn't you deserve it?

james noticed how your smile fell, he could see the texts on the screen. "happy birthday, love u." that girl was supposed to be one of your closest friends. you really were expecting something more- heartfelt? you always tried to make sure people you like know how much they are liked by you, texted the sweetest messages to them, cared about their birthdays more than yours. it didn't feel fair. still, you didn't want to jump into conclusions and ruin your day. you let go of your phone to wrap your arms around james.

he held you gently, kissing you again. "anything wrong?" he whispered. you shook your head. it was nothing important. he nodded, giving you a little time to collect your thoughts.

"angel." he said, "there's something here you may want to see."

you looked up, saw your boyfriends holding a birthday cake for you. it was beautiful, covered in silver colored candles. remus held the cake for you to see better as you sat up, the candles were definitely sirius's choice. you forgot about the texts, seeing them smile at you like you were the most precious thing in the whole world was making your head dizzy with affection.

you blew the candles, making a wish. james's fingers were drawing circles on your arm. you kissed your boyfriends thank you, a slow but happy tear rolled on your cheek. "come on, sweetheart, there's nothing to cry about. you're still young." sirius said, winking. his lips were curved into a playful smile.

"let's eat the cake." you said. "god, it looks so good."

"you remember remus's friend who owns a bakery? we got the cake from his shop." james said.

"who, charles?" you asked, remembering details about charles for a second. "i always see the cakes he makes on instagram, he's really good."

"first slice for the birthday girl." remus said, giving you your cake. "happy birthday, sweetheart. we love you so much."

"i love you so much." you said before taking a bite. "it's delicious. thank you."

sirius ate his own slice in three seconds. "this is better than i expected. another slice, please moony."

you kissed his chocolate covered lips fondly. hours were spent on eating cake, gossipping about sirius's workplace, drinking tea, and changing into different cuddling positions. your phone was silent, no one called. there were no other texts. it's weird, you thought. even the people who celebrated their birthdays with you didn't bother to give you a small text.

the day is almost finished, you are full with cake and sweets. james insists on doubling up the princess treatment he gives you every day and helps you with your skincare. you are sitting on bed as his fingers apply your night cream on your achy cheeks, sirius and remus brush their teeth at the bathroom after you and james leave for bed. your hand reaches to your phone. nothing.

"i think," james starts. "it's time you should tell me what's been on your mind all day."

you shrug. what can you tell? expecting birthday wishes from people feels weird. maybe they forgot. maybe they didn't care enough. should you remind them it's your birthday? no, that's stupid. is it? you don't know.

"what's upsetting my baby on her birthday?" he says. "tell me."

"there's something upsetting our baby?" sirius steps in after remus. "what happened?"

you give them a smile that says you're okay. "nothing." you start. remus's eyes find yours, worry sparks in them. "it's just- the girls and my friends from work- some of them forgot about my birthday, and other messages were a bit weird."

"i'm sorry." remus says, holding your hand. "i'm really sorry about that, angel."

"it's okay." you say. "i mean, no one has to remember."

"um, yeah, they kinda have to at some point." sirius says. "you do your best to remember things about your friends and you have every right to expect the same from them."

"i know." you say. you know, but what can you do?

james leans in to kiss your cheek. "i know it's terrible. you don't deserve it. i think- it's not your fault, yeah? you didn't do anything wrong. you deserve the best."

he says the last part silently like he's sad and it breaks your heart. they tried to make your day perfect, they don't deserve to end it sad. you don't deserve to sleep upset on your birthday. you look into james's eyes. "i already have the best." you say. "have you seen our boyfriends?"

you are being sweet on him. "have you seen yourself?" you say, pulling his face to kiss him. he smiles into the kiss. "i'm okay, really." you say.

"of course you are." sirius says. "in what world the birthday girl goes to bed upset?"

remus brushes a kiss on sirius's curls. they are lovely, sitting up in bed to comfort you the best they can. you need a bit time, you think. it's a hard thing to carry, feeling like you are not loved by some people you care about. it's not fair to the boys though. you are so incredibly loved by them and you feel it in your every breath. you can think about the others later. for now, you only need to show your love to your boys. the three people who deserve it the most.

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #james potter x fem!reader #sirius black x fem!reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #james x you #james x reader #sirius x you #sirius x reader #remus x you #remus x reader #fluff #hurt/comfort #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders fanfic #marauders fluff

[bunicate]

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕. fem reader x itto already burdened by your small chest, a rumor you happen to overhear makes you reluctantly ask your dear older brother for a helping hand.

warnings ꒱ྀི incest. reader has smaller breasts. tit sucking + minor worship / wc ꒱ 2k / 18+ / I wanted to write a haithy and wrio version as well but da wordz were not coming. can’t believe im writing for dis silly oni omg . . but enjoy pls <3

“don't be so crude, you idiot.”

it doesn’t take much to discern the confusion from his expression. itto had a range of maybe three emotions.

other than his overwhelming display of pride and exuberance, there’s always room for his dumbfoundedness. he’s frequently addled— his face constantly knitted together while his mind searches endlessly to find the answer, at least the one he thinks you want to hear, but he never really does.

“what ? you said you wanted me to help, right ?” he shrugs.

you narrow your eyes.

“I know what I said but you didn’t have to word it like . . . like that .”

like some animal, you want to say but instead you look at your brother in distaste.

too many times you find yourself struggling to accept the gap in your relationship. most people often make the wrong assumption of you being the older sibling and you have to begrudgingly correct them that no, you are in fact the younger and smarter sibling.

why couldn’t he tell that you’re already embarrassed enough as it is ? why do you have to spell it out and add to the duration of your suffering. by now, your cheeks are practically inflamed.

“how else do I ask ? oh , should I add the please ?” he pauses.

“show me your tits, please.”

he offers you a dopey smile of triumph. he’s proud of himself, thinking for once he’s finally appeased you, but he couldn’t be more wrong. so so wrong.

you’re aggressive with your sigh.

you were too smart to ask him of all people. you’re way too intelligent to believe in silly rumors and baseless gossip, but they tangle in the mire of your thoughts.

“if someone sucks on your breasts, they’ll grow !”

“huh ? no way. where did you hear that ?”

it was two women in passing, just talking and having a laugh and yet you can’t stop yourself from just wondering.

you’re not blessed like your brother. the oni towers over you, well over six feet. a mantle of bulging arms, broad shoulders, and thick thighs. he’s as big and intimidating as it gets but that aura quickly dispels every time he opens his mouth.

you on the other hand are thicker in other places, your chest, however . . . not so much.

you look down pathetically and think about all the colored tube tops that just didn’t fit you quite right.

what did you have to lose ? you’re pride maybe. you’re just as prideful as your brother, maybe even more, but the soft slopes of fat poking through your shirt mock you. they remind you that maybe you can afford to throw your ego away. temporarily.

you whine as your patience wears you thin.

murmuring a quick prayer to archons to have them spare you from further embarrassment, you bury your doubts in the back of your mind.

“I hate you.”

you lift your shirt quickly, just ripping the bandaid off.

you expose your breasts to the cool air and to surprised vermillion hues.

the longer he stared, the more you wanted to hide. of all the array of emotions you’ve seen, ( three ) you can’t pinpoint this exact one. it’s new to you. it borders on unbridled warmth, but then after a few seconds of your nipples perking from his gaze, it dithers. . . and then he fucking squints.

“so small.”

there’s a beat of silence and it takes that brief moment to even register that you did not mishear him. you’re not sure what you expected.

itto certainly isn’t the brightest and his emotional intelligence is nearly non-existent, and still, you’re taken aback by his talent to be consistently unaware.

you feel awkward and vulnerable in the middle of the room. you bared yourself to him, your insecurity right to his face, and the only thing he could do was confirm that you are indeed a small-chested oni. it shouldn’t bother you, but it does.

you liked to think you could handle the truth just as much as you bluntly dished it out, but this time you couldn’t.

a flash of white-hot anger runs through you at his audacity. you yank your shirt down eager to hide in your room and cry about your humiliation. you’ll write his name in big stupid letters in your fuzzy-covered journal and call him a big fat meanie. i for idiot, t for trashy , t for terrible, and a big fat o for obtuse.

“asshole !” you scream.

you can tell he’s surprised by your outcry. you glare at him hoping that he would turn to ashes on the spot, but unfortunately, he doesn’t.

he’s too busy panicking. he’s struck with the startling realization that he’s messed up again and that you were pissed.

so many times you’ve stomped your pink heels in anger and strutted away, mini skirt riding up with every step you took. and each time he reacts the same.

he tries to fix it.

he’s quick to react, immediately reaching for you in urgency. “w-wait wait wait wait ! where ya’ going ?”

“ oh, don’t you dare touch me you, oaf ! you think I don’t know that they’re small already ? why would you say that ?! “ you pull away more than desperate to increase the distance from him.

“hey hey hey. calm down, baby sis. m’not making fun of you.”

it takes his hands resting on your shoulders and the worried look in his eyes to make you come to a stop.

you lick your lips and take a shaky breath.

he’s right.

itto is many things but never a bully. he’d never say anything purposefully mean, no matter how much you bad-talked him. he’s kind and loyal but unfortunately, all the brains just happen to go to you .

“I didn’t mean to make ya feel bad,” he says sheepishly. “jus’ think they’re cute, that’s all.”

he releases his grip on you to scratch behind his head, eyes flickering to your chest again. a blush colors his face to a shade of carnations.

you’re a sweet girl with an unfiltered mouth that would bend to no one, not even to the archons themselves. and you were tearing him apart with that pout and your pretty nubs peeking through the fabric of your shirt.

he’s your big brother and he angered you quite a lot but, never deliberately. but this time he’s determined, for once he wants to ease your worries and not add to them.

he stands a bit closer brushing away a saltine tear that regretfully falls.

“If ya still want me to do it, I will. I think . . . it could work if I just do it hard enough.”

you don’t answer him but you don’t think you need to.

he searches your eyes trying to find any sign of disapproval. itto remains unsure, he’s never good at picking up on the small nuances of your emotions and so he tugs at your shirt in uncertainty.

still angry and embarrassed, you look up at his stupidly handsome face and relent.

“jus’ do it you big dummy.”

like everything else you expect him to handle you roughly. to rip your shirt and bite and suck at your nipples until they bruise under his touch, but he does the opposite.

his free hand travels around your sternum at first, surprisingly gentle. his fingers are soft when they circle around your breasts, tenderly flicking the flesh to watch them jiggle. he thumbs at your wide areolas, tracing the tiny bumps in complete fascination.

you grow uncomfortable at how intimate it felt. his eyes are blown wide, drinking up the sight of your tits rising with each shuddered breath.

“d-don’t play with them. jus’ hurry up n’ suck .” you leap at the opportunity to break the tension, but somehow you’ve made it worse.

as soon as the words leave your mouth, he responds just as fast. it nearly knocks the wind out of you when his mouth latches onto your breast.

they’re small but there’s so much flesh , so much chub that itto can’t stop playing with. his tongue laps at your left mound, licking underneath it, licking around it, and sucking at all the fat he can fit into his mouth. he’s noisy, grossly so . he groans and curses each time he has to detach his mouth from your nipple to come up for air.

“pretty tits taste s’good, “ he slurs. he can’t form the words, not when he’s desperate to fondle your breasts with his slippery tongue.

itto squeezes you so tight, it nearly hurts but you couldn’t dare tell him to ease up. there’s something hard rubbing on your lower stomach and you're scared to even dare to think about what it could be.

he slowly drags his rough flesh up and down your mound, shivering when your nipple grazes his appendage. his fingers grope at your waist and hips, palms nearly enclosing your smaller figure.

“f-fuck , you’re tiny. m’not hurting you, am I ?”

you don’t trust yourself to speak, terrified a moan would spill instead, so you shake your head.

he’s over two feet taller than you, pressing you into a corner and he has to remind himself that you’re his little sister. his dainty, spit-fire little sister who’s tits he’s currently mouthing on to rid her of her troubles.

he’d suck long and hard hoping your already perfect tits would someday be perfect to you. he wants to make you proud and show you he’s not just some rowdy oni. he’ll kiss and suck as long as you needed him to.

he tucks your nipple back into his mouth, puckering around the flesh like a sour candy.

you’re as pillowy and as delicate as he remembers. he almost forgot how he sinks into you. how his firm stomach settles into your soft one and he’s painfully reminded that his erect cock has been slowly rutting against you.

sucking your tits was riling him up. it was making him act in that brutish way that you hated, but he was trying so hard to keep from lining his cock with your opening and milking your cunt dry.

the oni has to pull away to gather himself. he takes the time to marvel at his work.

your right bosom is drenched in spit, puffy and swollen from his ministrations. he smiles.

“It looks bigger already, don’t ya think ?“

“shut it !”

another insult dies in your mouth as you're still catching your breath. an oni’s nose is extremely sensitive and you wonder if he could smell the arousal fermenting between your thighs.

“let me do the other one okay, baby. don’t want them to be uneven right ?”

“w-wait itto maybe we should s— eek !”

you need another moment of reprieve but you don’t get the chance. he puts the other tit in his mouth, tongue greedily flicking against the nub which tears a squeal from your lips.

itto is confident his methods will work just as sure as he’s about to blow a load in his pants.

“gonna suck your tits until they fatten up. isn’t that right, little one ?”

you mewl at the pleasure and the softness of which he utters a name he hasn’t called you in years.

“s-stop talking so much ! just be quiet and and —hnnn— stop teasin’ !”

he continues his assault on your chest, cock chubbing against his pants.

“m’sorry,” he slurs. “can’t help it.” his groans are fanning against your chest while he drools on your sensitive peaks. “let nii-nii take care of you . . just relax f’me. . . just take it.”

he’s hard. cums crowns his tip as he keeps conjuring up thoughts of wiping his cock over your tits, rubbing the head around your puffy brown nipple.

you smell good, you taste better and itto for once doesn’t care if you think he’s gross. he wants to milk your tits and suck until they become sweet little prunes , just so he can make it better.

your panties grow sticky as his sucks grow rougher. even if your breasts didn’t jump up a cup size you think that maybe this was worth it. to have him close, to have him drool and worship your tits and feel his cock straining against you.

his eyes closed, still nursing on your teat sweetly. your hand buries itself in his thick mane that draped over his shoulder smelling faintly of your shampoo.

it silently encourages him to keep going, leading to both of your undoings. the hand running through his hair tugs on his roots but then suddenly stills.

you see a brief flash of something and you gasp.

“itto why on earth is your dick out ?”

“can I put just the tip in ? please?”

#૮꒰ ๑´�� `๑ ꒱ྀིა #tw:incest #itto x reader #itto x you #itto x y/n #itto x female reader #itto x reader smut #arataki itto x reader #arataki itto x you #arataki itto x y/n #itto smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader smut

[wosoluver]

We don't talk anymore Part 2

Claudia x childhood best friend!reader

Different people reach the high of their careers at different times.

You couldn't complain though. From playing with the boys in your neighborhood, to playing for a first division team in England, you had come a long way.

And now at just 23, you were being transferred to Barcelona.

Yes. The same team that had turned their back on you years ago.

In truth you took the hard hit of being separated from your best friend and your family, as an opportunity, to work hard enough to make back home.

And here you were. Making your way to your first training with the team.

Your heart pounded in your chest, anticipating to see those beautiful blue eyes, always paired with a grin.

You thought about reaching out, but decided against it. What were you supposed to say? Hello? Remember me? I'm coming home?

And it's not like she didn't know you had been signed by her team. She could have reached out too.

Unless, something you refused to believe, she had completely forgot your existence, and didn't recognize her own childhood best friend.

You took a deep breath walking in, you went around the locker room, introducing yourself and Alexia took you under her wing immediately, trying to make sure fit in. Apparently you were a bit early.

"Y/N?" - You heard as you turned around.

Seeing her eyes shining as you did.

"Clau." - You said it on a quieter tone.

She immediately hugged you. Initially you didn't hug her back. Blame it on shock or blame it on hard feelings. But eventually you gave in.

"You two know each other?" - asked Jana.

"They are best friends." said Patri.

The only one there who had actually heard about you. Many, many times.

Like Piña she started very young on Barça, around the same time. They instantly became friends. She spent many nights wiping Claudia's tears, while she mourned the loss of her friend.

"I've missed you more than anything!" - She said already emotional.

"Long time no see hm?" - You said trying to break the awkwardness.

"I watched you play all the time on my tv." - And you instantly let the wall you were trying so hard to keep up, down. Offering her a smile.

"I did the same! I'm sorry for not reaching out.

I know it's stupid, but I thought you might have forgotten me..."

"There's not a day that went by where I did think about you."

You heard someone clean their through.

"You guys can talk more later yeah? We have some training to do." - Said Alexia kindly.

"I'm Patri! Piña's second best friend." - Said Guijarro with a big smile as you

all walked out for the field.

You couldn't remember the last time you had so much fun playing. You remembered how it felt to play as a kid. Remembered why you fell in love with the sport in the first place.

"Ets boníssima, Y/N! Welcome to Barça." - Alexia, said giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Moltes gràcies." - Giving her a bright smile.

"Hey wait up for me!" - Claudia yelled as you were all going in to shower.

"You're better than I remembered."

"Well the girls at Tottenham were a lot harder to play against, than the boys from back home." - You both let out heartfelt laughs.

"I'm sorry I left you behind."

"Stop! You didn't. You were following your destiny."

"I felt so powerless, not being able to demand they brought you along."

"Well I took the longer way here."

"You made them regret not choosing you. You proved them wrong. You played until they couldn't ignore you anymore!"

"You make it sound more glorious than it actually was."

"I told you, we would make it."

"You saw potential in me, before any team could."

You two finished getting ready.

"Do you need a ride home?"

"That would be nice."

"Okay. Patri you're giving Y/N a ride!"

"You offered me a ride? As a passenger in someone else's car?" - She really hadn't changed.

"She won't mind."

"I don't mind." - Said Patri joining the two of you on the way to the car. - "The english league had nothing on your defense, Y/N. You needed better competition."

As she said that you completely understood why they became close.

And once again, you made your way home together. As if you had never been separated at all.

#woso #woso x reader #claudia pina #claudia pina x reader #fc barcelona femeni

[theghostofsomeoneelse]

“Your last name on my back”

Jenni Hermoso x Caroline Graham Hansen (child reader)

A/N: Jenni never left Barca.

Summary: You get your very first jersey from your team,but you hate it. Not the jersey or the color or the fabric: the names.

Mamma had now stayed over for many nights. Probably more than 50. It was like a forever sleepover. You didn’t know why mamma had stayed over, but mami had tried to explain. You had seem mami and mamma kissing on the couch sometimes. Sometimes holding hands. Sometimes hugging. You understood that they loved eachother. Yet, big words were hard and you loved mamma. Mamma that had always loved you. That always let you sit on her lap. That always wanted to hold your hand. That never refused to carry you. Not your tummy mummy, but mamma. Mamma’s name was Caroline. She had played football with mami and tummy mummy in Barcelona. When your tummy mummy left in the middle of the night and Mami showed up to practice the next morning with a newborn looking terrified; Caroline was there. She was always there. She took care of Mami and you. She picked up the broken pieces and mended them back together one by one. One day at a time. You were only little so you didn’t understand why mamma couldn’t take you to the doctors alone or why you couldn’t have her last name. You had Hermoso, and another strange last name. The other last name was cold, it felt like a frozen shoulder or like someone was taking your heart away. All the other little girls at football had two last names; one from their mom and one from their dad. One from each parent. One from each person that loved them. You however, only had one. Not one name, but one that loved you.

When the coach of your under 5’s had given you your first jersey a Saturday morning, you had teared up when another older girl read the names of your jersey to you. You didn’t like the first last name. You hated it, despised it. The first time you had heard it was when mami was on a phone call while you were supposed to be sleeping. She had talked to her brother, about wanting to change your name but your tummy mummy had refused even though she wasn’t a part of your life anymore. That’s why when you got your first jersey, the moment wasn’t filled with joy. It was filled with as much rage as a 4 year old could have. Your little hands pulled the jersey off while they were shaking as tears were forming in your eyes. The pride of your first jersey being ripped away from you in an instant. You quickly blinked the tears away as you stood there with the jersey in your hands. The fabric of the jersey was just like mami’s jersey, but this jersey didn’t feel good. It felt like something you wanted to throw to the ground. Stomp on. Hit. Get rid of in an instant. “Y/N, you no like your jersey?” You coach said as he stood infront of you. You looked down, not daring to look him in his usual kind eyes. “It’s small” you murmur out as the best possible excuse even though as the youngest and smallest on the team, it definitely fitted you. “Ah, si, how about you just wear a vest yes? A pink vest?” He said as he held the pink neon colored vest infront of your eyes. You grabbed it quickly as you settled on wearing the familiar bright vest instead. Practice began and you quickly forgot about your jersey that didn’t feel like your jersey. The practice went on quickly and by the look of mamma’s face; you knew that she could sense that something was going on. It wasnt until one of the youth assistant coaches was helping you with controlling your ball that you noticed that your jersey was gone from the field. It made you happy, as you thought that it had disappeared and that you wouldn’t have to ever see it again. The practice ended and your team did your usual team hug and chant at the end. You ran off the field with the other little girls straight to Caroline who was sitting with the other parents. “Mamma!” You yelled as you ran into her arms. “I am so proud of you Engel, you worked so hard today. Ready to go home and see mami?” Caroline said as her strong arms lifted you up from the ground. Mamma and mami never cared about people that said that you shouldn’t be carried or that you were too old. They knew that one day, you wouldn’t wanna be carried anymore and until that day came along: they refused to stop holding you close and keeping you safe.

—

You were sitting at the kitchen table with Mami and Caroline having lunch. You were talking about how practice went and how hard you were working on your skills. Caroline joked that she had gotten it from her mamma, but all three of you knew that it wasn’t possible. It made you pout as you wanted to be mami and mamma’s baby so bad. You dropped your fork onto the table and frowned as you pouted. Your mami looked at you as she tilted her head. “So baby, we need to talk about what happened at practice today. I heard that you didn’t like your jersey, no? Why is that?” She spoke as she looked at you. Caroline rubbed Jenni’s back as support and you crossed your arms in anger. You shook your head, refusing to answer as your feelings were bottled up in your throat forming a big lump. «Princesa, we want to help you. Was the color wrong? Or was it the fabric?” Mami continued as she tried to get out of you what the issue with the jersey was. The anger made your head spin and your feet tickle. You wanted to throw a fit and scream and yell. You hated your last name. It reminded you of the person who abandoned you when you were a baby. Who suddenly decided that you weren’t important, that you weren’t wanted, that you were regretted. Your little heart was beating fast and your hands were shaking. You looked up at Mami as you shouted on the top of your lungs; “I don’t wanna be a Putellas anymore, I wanna be a Graham!”

You had hopped down from the chair and stormed to the bedroom as quickly as your tired feet would let you. You shut the door with a bang and twisted the lock on the door. Mami cursing herself for not removing it as she was supposed to. You stomped to your bed and grabbed your pillow and blanket before you made a spot inside your closet for you to decompress and hide. Your feelings felt so big, like your little frame couldn’t possibly fit it all inside your heart. You felt angry, scared, fragile and terrified that mami would eventually regret you as well. You didn’t wanna be a hard child. People would always say that you were delightful and easy going, and you were for the most. It was only this subject that had grown into a big knot in your stomach. Mami didn’t wanna hide your story from you in case you would read it somewhere or a kid would ask you about it. She wanted you to own your own story, so she had always made sure to tell you the story and give you age appropriate details. You pulled the closet doors closed as you closed your eyes feeling tired. You weren’t sure if it was because of practice or because of your big feelings. You wanted nothing more than to run to mami or mamma, be held, be told that she would take care of it, that it was okay, that she wasn’t upset or angry and that she loved you endlessly regardless of anything. You wanted mami to pick you up with her big warm strong arms and hold you close so you could feel her familiar scent. But you couldn’t let yourself. You wanted to be stubborn. To be a big girl. You sniffled as a tear rolled out of your eye as your tried to hold your polar bear close. Your polarbear was however in your bed so you made a bolt to grab your bear before coming back into your closet feeling like you wanted to hide away forever. The bear that Caroline had gifted you when she came from camp with team Norway. You held the bear tight and had him pushed towards your chest as you sobbed. Eventually falling asleep tucked away in the closet.

You woke up to mami’s and mamma’s face towards you. You blinked a couple of times. Could it have been a bad dream? “Hola princesa” Mami said as she stroke your hair gently. The light was dimmed and you were sitting in mami’s arms in their bedroom. You could hear the sound of the television that was mounted on the wall infront of the bed buzzing. “Mami” you said as the feelings came crashing into you leaving you chocking out a cry. “Shh, mi amor, it’s okay, it’s just big feelings” Mami said as she held you closer one hand on your back and the other on your head pushing you into her chest like she did when you were a baby. “Everything will be okay, Mami will take care of it. Mamma told me what happened and if you don’t want to; you don’t have to tell me, si?” Mami said as she comforted you while you shut your eyes to keep the big feelings outside. “Mami?” You said so quietly that nobody should’ve been able to hear, but Mami always heard. Mami always knew. “Si, princesa?” She said as you wiggled lose from her grip and sat up infront of her. You looked at Mami, then at mamma and then at Mami again. “I don’t like my name” you muttered quietly expecting some sort of reaction. “Is that so? Why?” Mami said as she looked at you with a soft expression on her face not seeming angry or mad, just looking at you like you were her whole world. “The other kids, Mami..” you started as you felt tears pricking in your eyes and your voice started to break. “I wanna be like you, and mamma..” you continued as you took a big breath to sound out the last word you needed to complete the sentence. You looked at mamma. “I want your last name on my back, Mami. But I also want mamma’s. No dummy tummy mummy last name.” You said as your frowned and tears were escaping your blue icy eyes to run down your red blissed cheeks. “That’s okay princesa, I can talk to the coach.” Mami said as she pulled you into her arms again. “Princesa, you can have both our last names. Mamma has said that she thinks it’s a good thing.” Mami said as you looked over at mamma. To your surprise, Caroline was smiling at you. You sniffled and smiled back before you launched yourself at mamma like a rocket trying to go to space. But just like mami, mamma always knew and she was prepared letting you close hugging you tight. “Lille venn, we have got you a present” mamma whispered in your ear as your head shot up almost knocking mamma’s nose out in the move. “What is it?” You said as you could feel a spark of good feelings coming back into your body. Mami reached for a box next to her night stand and your eyes opened wide. The box was pink and glittery with a glittery golden bow on top. Mami sat it infront of you as mamma held you in her lap. You carefully tugged at the bow, causing the bow to loosen as you took the lid of the box. You pulled the item out as it revealed a jersey. A jersey just like the team had gotten this Saturday morning at practice. Your heart dropped for a second as you lowered the jersey until mami held it up for you to see. “Do you see the back princesa?” She said as you looked at the letters. It made you confused as you still were learning to read. “It says Graham-Hermoso and it’s the same as mamma’s and mami’s number. 10” Mami was nr.10 in Barcelona and mamma was nr.10 in the Norwegian national team. You felt all the bad feelings rushing to leave your little body as you wrapped an arm around each woman’s neck holding them tight. The two women eased closer to you and held you together closely. “We love you, Princesa. You can always tell us if something feels bad.” Mami finished as she kissed your cheek making you feel all bubbly and happy again. But the legal part of the name change? That’s a story for another day and it’s a long story.

#woso imagine #caroline graham hansen #caroline graham hansen imagine #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni hermoso #woso x reader