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tonycries · 1 day

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Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers...

Synopsis. You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.

Pairing. Officer! Gojo Satoru x Reader x Officer! Toji Fushiguro

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, police! au, unprotected, being pulled over, thréesome, eiffel tower, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, dynamics, cúmplay, marking, they lowkey make it a competition, implied dp, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. I don’t condone actually speeding y’all.

You were screwed. Completely and utterly screwed.

“Shit shit shit-” you hiss, eyes flitting to the flashing red and blue lights in your rearview mirror, sirens blaring behind you. The engine roared, pavement a blur beneath your tires - a stupid, spur-of-the-moment decision. You knew you were pushing your luck with your late night speeding, fueled by an empty highway and even emptier adrenaline.

And, well, it seems like your little thrill-seeking caught up with you, quite literally, as you hastily pull over on the side of the road. Heart sinking when the police car parks right behind you - the final nail in your coffin.

You heave out a steadying breath, trying to get your thoughts in order long enough to come up with an even slightly believable explanation. Why did you think this was a good idea, again?

Tap! Tap! Tap!

Shit, in the heat of the moment you’d barely heard the heavy footsteps in the distance. Immediately snapping your head up to look at-

Oh.

Whatever flimsy excuse dies in your throat with just one glance at the officer knocking at your glass - the unfairly hot officer. Your face burns as you urgently roll down the window - partly out of necessity, and partly because you really wanted to see him better. Those snowy white locks, and- shit was that a dimple at the corner of the sly little smile curling his lips?

Twinkling gaze locked with yours, he rests an arm against the roof of the car - and you almost have to look away, your looming speeding ticket being the last thing on your mind at the way his arms flex so enticingly. Leaning down to smirk, “Ya have any idea how fast you were going, sweetheart?”

His voice was playful, and deep enough that it takes a second for you to find yours. Swallowing thickly, you bat your lashes innocently up at him, “Sorry, officer. I have no idea.”

“Fast enough that’s for sure,” he huffs out a laugh, eyeing the way you squirm embarrassedly in your seat, “C’mon, license n’ registration, now.”

Fumbling through your glove compartment, heat rushes down your spine when his fingertips happen just brush against yours as you hand over the documents. While he looks them over, you take the moment to read his badge - Gojo.

“Officer Gojo-”

“Satoru, m’not one for formalities.”

“Officer Satoru,” you press, words laced with just the right amount of flirtation. “I’m terribly sorry, I promise I didn’t know the speed limit.” And if it were any other moment then you’d be almost embarrassed at how you were fawning over him - but, well, one look at him and how could you resist?

“M’sure.” Not when he dips his head infinitely closer, hot breath fanning your face. Close - too close. And especially not when he mutters lowly, “Out.”

Which is how you found yourself strutting down the highway in a straight line, trying your very best not to tumble under the pressure of a looming Satoru.

“Keep walkin’.” And by God he was enjoying this a bit too much. Leaning against your car, arms crossed, and watching your every move. Stare so intense that a stupid little part of you couldn’t help but wonder whether his eyes lingered on you a bit too long to check for signs of drunkenness or something else.

“Well,” Satoru’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, whirling around to catch him sweeping you one last time from head to toe. “Seems you’re not under the influence.” And you’ve barely let a smug smile make its way onto your face before he’s plowing on, “But m’still gonna have to write you up for speeding.”

“Oh come on.” you drag out, slightly whiny yet not desperate - at least, not yet. Leaning ever-so-slightly closer to him, making sure that the tight top you wore lets him see a perfect view of your breasts. “I really didn’t know.”

Eyes flickering down. Once. Twice.

Success.

But Satoru only raises his brows, muscles rippling as he crosses his arms over his chest. And by the twinkle of amusement in his gaze, you knew the smug bastard was doing this on purpose. “There are consequences for breaking the law, y’know~ Even for pretty lil’ things like you.”

Inching forward, “Can’t I just be let off with a warning, please?”

“And what makes you think you deserve one?”

Something hot, and prickly coils in your stomach at his tone. “Oh I dunno…” you trail off, so close now that there was only a hair’s breadth between your two. You could feel the heat of his body at this proximity, and it was making your head spin. “I’m sure I can convince you I do.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, grinning, “Not me, pretty girl.” And you’ve barely registered the words before the police car door slams again, and he’s nodding his head somewhere behind you. “He’s the one that’ll be writing your ticket.”

Oh? Oh, shit.

Heart stopping, you whirl around to meet a matching, sly little smirk. “Meet, Toji, sweetheart. My patrol partner, of sorts.”

And in the dim lighting, you could make out how unfairly handsome he was. A bit older, uniform hugging him so sinfully tight - all dark hair and rugged, dangerous authority as he skims over your license. “Your superior.” the rough baritone of the newcomer’s voice sent shocks right down to your core.

“Semantics.”

“What’ve we got here?” Toji asks, tilting his head, unabashedly drinking in the sight of you just as his colleague did. “Skipping out on your duties again, brat?”

“Of course not. Just that this one,” Satoru starts. And your skin burns at the way he addresses you, words dripping with a mean little tone as if you were nothing but a plaything, “Says she didn’t know the speed limit, and wants to get off easy.”

“‘Get off easy’, huh?” Toji hums thoughtfully. “Don’t know if we can do that, doll.”

“Mhm, the old man’s right for once. Can’t put our jobs at risk, y’know?”

But oh you’d never be fooled by their little act, you catch the way their eyes meet, a silent understanding stirring between the two. You bite your lips coyly, holding back a smirk as you unhurriedly reach out to pull Toji in by his collar. His knee between your legs, your back falling against Satoru’s front, strong arms steadying you by the shoulders. “Are you sure?”

You could feel his heartbeat quickening, as was the latter’s, toned chest rumbling at the way his partner grits out a hoarse, “Positive.” Shit, they make it so easy.

Sandwiched between both men now, you whisper - low enough that they have to strain their heads closer to hear, “But I promise I’ll be a good girl, officers.”

Toji’s lips are on you before you know it - so hot and just as messy as you thought the man would be. One hand around your throat, squeezing lightly as he licks at the seam of your mouth. Such a desperate clash of lips and saliva as he bullies his tongue inside to intertwine with yours.

He tastes almost minty, with the slight taste of something so intoxicating that you don’t even realize you’re pushing down on Satoru, grinding in mindless little motions. At least, not until he’s gripping tightly at your hips, shifting your ass ever-so-slightly to graze against his swollen cock.

That makes you gasp and pull apart, tiny strings of saliva snapping as you look behind at Satoru. Feeling him, so big, so hot behind you - even through his uniform.

“Is that-”

“Shh, focus on what you’re doing, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly. Breath ghosting your ear as a hand comes up to squish your cheeks together, forcing you to face forward. “Wouldn’t wanna make my dear supervisor here mad, huh?”

And it takes everything in you to take your mind off of how massive Satoru felt underneath you. Damp, and throbbing behind you, a wet little patch right where his angry tip was.

The only thing that actually snaps you out of your little reverie is Toji’s voice, husky, and dangerously sweet. “I gotta say, m’feeling left out.” he sighs mockingly, fingers tightening around your throat. “And after I’m the one supposed to be writing you up? How rude.”

You meet his eyes, half-lidded and looking at you hungrily. He liked this - seeing you all breathless and needy, so eager to please.

“M-m’sorry-” you squirm in their iron grasp.

“Now now, ‘sorry’ won’t always cut it.” Toji gives a soft, playful little smack to your ass, before addressing the other man. “Whaddaya say we do about that, brat?”

You look up at Satoru pleadingly, only to be met with a dark chuckle. Shit, if anything, you thought that he would be the nicer of the two - but that stupid little illusion falls apart with every word that falls from his lips. And oh how he enjoyed watching your slow, dawning realization that no you weren’t going to get mercy from either of them. “Guess we should teach her some manners, huh?”

“I dunno…I don’t think her slutty lil’ pussy will learn, though.”

That felt like a slap to the face - one that had your dripping cunt quivering in- fear? Anticipation? You really couldn’t give a fuck right now, not when they’re talking over you like you’re some object. Not when Toji’s shoving his knee deeper in-between your thighs, rocking your hips lightly. You whine, “P-please. I want to.”

“Want to what? C’mon now, use your words like a big girl.” It’s Satoru now, teasing you as you hesitate in giving into what you really want.

Your voice cracks pathetically, at the embarrassing admission. Being stuck between these two men way too much for you to handle. “I want…”

“Say it, sweetheart.”

“Wan’ to be fucked by you both. Have you teach me some m-manners.”

And then it happens.

Your back hits the cushion before you even realize what’s happening, sinking into your car backseat as the two officers shut the door behind you. Satoru sits on one side, while Toji pushes down the front seats on the other. Cramped, heady - and exactly where you wanted to be right now.

Shit, when did they even open the car door? You don’t have half the mind to wonder, because neither of them waste any time. Immediately groping your tits - your waist - your thighs, everywhere and anywhere they could reach.

Satoru’s kissing you now - drinking you in like you were his favorite taste. And you just think he might be yours, so sweet, like those cheap lollipops you saw at convenience stores. Drinking in your breathless gasps as Toji begins unbuttoning your top, letting it fall to God-knows-where and-

“Fuuuck.” he lets out a low whistle, “Kid, look at this.”

With an almost-pained grunt, Satoru’s pulling away. Eyes widening as he takes in the sight of you - braless, and exposed so shamefully for the both of them, of course. “No bra?” he mutters raspily. “Always knew you were a lil’ slut, doll.” But you knew by the way his breath hitches that he liked it.

And Toji did too, if the way his fingers danced along your hardened nipples was anything to go by. “What did I tell you? Bet she’s got such a naughty pussy, too.”

Your head is spinning, both from his words and the way Satoru’s claiming your lips once again. Murmuring into your mouth, “Only one way to find out.”

And that’s all that is said before they’re all but ripping your skirt off your hips. The poor, flimsy fabric nothing against the two men that were now looking at your drenched panties in pure awe.

In fact, Toji drops to his knees onto the car interior, face to face with your pretty pussy. Greedily drinking in the way your slick beads out so sloppily, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. Gaze heated enough that you’re embarrassed.

“Ah ah-” Satoru tuts, seeing the way your bare thighs were trying to close - not letting yourself have even some semblance of dignity. “You said you’d be a good girl f’us, isn’t that right, old man?”

“Mhm, s’what she said.”

Shit, you can do nothing but have your legs wrestled open, Satoru’s fingers sliding so delicately underneath your panties. “You heard him, pretty.” Index sliding up and down, up and down up and- grazing your swollen folds, all the way from your base, stopping just below your throbbing clit. Tease. “So why don’t we let officer Toji here get a good look at how wet your pretty lil’ cunt is?”

Neither man waits for your answer - of course, they don’t.

Rip!

Several things happen at once, you barely have the time to react before Satoru’s holding your panties in his fist, tattered and soaked with your slick. Your mouth drops open in disbelief as he dangles it like a badge of honor, holding it up, up, up, only to breathe in your scent obscenely. “Fuck, you even smell like the perfect angel.”

Toji - taking the opportunity - dives face-first into your pussy. Groaning at the taste - you were so sweet, so addictive on his tongue. Licking lazily up your swollen folds, letting your sweet sweet juices get all over his face as he buries himself nose-deep.

“Oh!” you gasp, fisting his locks in your hands, “Shit shit shit-” Toji was in eating you out, exactly as he was with kissing - sloppy. Unabashed. Letting his tongue move so messily all over your cunt, while his colleague held you still. Letting him devour you as he pleased.

“Shhh, don’t worry, sweetheart.” Satoru whispers into your ear, every cute lil’ whine of yours going straight to his painfully hard cock.

And, well, Satoru can’t just sit here and watch Toji have you all to himself, now. Can he? Which is why he begins playing with your sensitive nipples. Twirling his hot tongue around one, rolling the other between his fingers.

Drunk off your moans and the way you’re so overstimulated by both men. Unable to decide between where your body wants to focus on - grinding down on Toji’s relentless mouth or leaning towards Satoru’s. And it’s driving you mad.

“Hngh- fuck- Feel’s good.” you whine, bucking your hips wildly.

“Yeah? Ya like this?” Toji speaks first, words muffled around your clit. Sucking and rolling his tongue harshly across it. Over and over. Strangely in time with the quick, maddening little circles that Satoru licks around your nipples.

Being ruined like this from both ends was way too much - so you can only nod deliriously. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. Letting Toji throw your legs over his shoulders, looking so fucking gorgeous in-between your legs like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Brows furrowing in bliss as he tilts his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Shit.” Lapping even faster at your pussy. “Could get used to this.”

And let it be known that Gojo Satoru was a jealous man, because he pulls away from your tits with a lewd pop! Grunting sulkily, “Move over. Wan’ taste her cute pussy, too.”

Either Toji doesn’t hear him over the lewd little squelches coming from down below, or he ignores it - probably the latter. Continuing to make out with your cunt so messily.

But Satoru was nothing if not persistent, snaking down a hand to gather your slick on his fingertips. Immediately shoving them in his mouth and oh- You watch blearily as his eyes roll to the back of his head, sucking his fingers clean like a man possessed.

“Oh- fuck.” his mouth drops into a soft oh! Leaning forward like he wanted to kiss you senseless, only to halt and shuffle off the carseat. Because he wanted to make out with your cunt more. Dropping to the ground beside Toji, Satoru gives him a minute shove, “Move. M’not letting you be the only one to taste this heavenly pussy.”

“Hah- ya think you can eat her out the way she deserves, brat?” Licking at your inner thigh, “Lemme show you how a real man does it.”

“Watch and learn, old man.” Both men push your legs as far apart as they’d go, spreading you so shamefully for them. You reel from the stretch and the sinful sight below you.

Because immediately, they’re making out hungrily with your cunt together. Sloppily and needy - tongues bumping into each other, intertwining, burying their faces between your legs as they eat you out like a little competition. Satoru’s licking up and down your slit, pooling your slick on his tongue, while Toji’s wrapping his pretty lips around your ravaged clit.

“Sh-shit. Satoru- Toji. Ah! M’so close.” you squirm as they moan into your wet cunt, the vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running up your spine. Drinking in your little whimpers like they were addicted.

“Like this?” Satoru groans. “Feels good being eaten out by the both of us?”

The car fills with your breathy moans, and it’s hard to speak with the way they’re alternating between flicking your clit and squeezing your tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you out, thrusting at a frenzied pace - you don’t even know who is who at this point. Just getting off with a needy, “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes- Feels s’good!”

“Like being our little whore, doll?”

Maybe it was Toji’s words - so filthy even when he was calling out to you sweetly. Or maybe it was the way Satoru was grinding his jaw as he plunges his soft tongue deeper into your plushy walls. Probably it was how they both looked at you - like you were their last meal.

Because you’re cumming, and cumming so messily all over their mouths. “Shit. S’too much. Ah-”

And neither man stops - almost like it was difficult to part. Letting you drag your sloppy pussy incoherently all over while they continue to flick and dip their tongues. Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation.

“Heh, you’re gonna make her cry.” Satoru grins, as he finally parts. Your slick glossing so prettily all over the bottom half of his face - and his partner wasn’t any better. Rising from in-between your thighs looking very decidedly not sorry for eating you out till you cry.

You watch, speechless, as Toji swipes a thumb over his lips, watching in wonder the way it becomes sticky with your juices. “Could get used to this all over m’face, right?”

“Mhm.” the other man hums, absentmindedly fumbling with his shirt. Revealing smooth, milky skin - he was so deliciously sculpted, all toned muscled and a slutty waist that made your mouth water. Shit, he was a masterpiece.

But Satoru - that impatient bastard - doesn’t even give you the time to admire the entirety of him before he’s unbuckling his belt. “Though I think she’d look better with something else.”

You gasp as he pulls down his pants, tugging just enough that his swollen cock springs out. Absolutely massive and such an angry red, weeping tip dripping all the way down his length. He was so long - the type of long that had you knowing that won’t be walking properly tomorrow.

“How crude.” Toji titters, but shit how he loved the way you seemed so cockdrunk from the mere sight of Satoru’s dick. It almost made some tiny part of him jealous.

“Whatever, dibs on her cunt,” Satoru grunts, one hand moving to toy so messily with your dripping entrance. Pointedly ignoring the heated glare thrown his way by Toji, and the way he begins rolling your clit between two fingers. Almost like a little standoff - with you stuck in the middle.

Toji breaks first, “M’your superior, I should be the one to fuck her pretty pussy.”

“Aw come on.” the other man whines, and it would almost be comical if it wasn’t for the way his long fingers were massaging your hot core. “Think of it as a ah- learning experience. After all, who knows whether you’d hurt yourself trynna fuck her the way I can.”

“You mouthy little-”

“Now, pretty girl, let’s see if y’can walk the talk.”

And oh you should’ve known better than to think you’d be stuffed inside the backseat of a car with two police officers without them throwing you around like a rag doll.

Immediately, Toji’s manhandling you, fingers digging into your waist as he pushes you on all fours. Lining his aching bulge right in front of your soppy mouth, saliva seeping into his pants.

Well, there was no use wearing soiled clothing, right? You watch, cunt clenching in anticipation as he shoves down his pants in record speed.

Oh, the universe was playing a joke on you - because Toji was just as big. If a bit thicker where Satoru was longer. Prominent veins glistening in the dim light, precum dripping all the way down to the maintained tufts of black at his base.

Shit, your eyes flit between the intimidatingly big cocks. One in front of you, grazing his fat tip across your lips, and the other positioned right over your sloppy entrance. You weren’t going to make it out alive.

“Having second thoughts?” Toji scoffs, edging his hips closer. Greedily taking in how fucking pretty you looked with his precum glossing your mouth, messy and dripping down to your chin. “Wan’ tap out?”

You barely even have to your head “no” - because Satoru’s answering for you. Spreading your pussy lips with his thumb, taking one, long look before chuckling, “Course not. Y’should see the way her needy cunt is sucking my thumb up.”

“Well then. Guess we’ll get to the real fun.”

With that, Toji’s stuffing himself into your mouth. A low hiss leaving the back of his throat as you take him so well, lips bulging around his thick cock. Tonguing at the sensitive slit in a way that makes him lose his mind.

Not even giving your a proper warning as he pushes in inch by fucking inch, watching you choke and gag around him. Not stopping till he’s got your nose pressed all the way against his toned pelvis. “Shit, relax yer throat. Fuck, ah- just like that, doll.”

And if you thought he was mean then you weren’t prepared for Satoru at all - not with the way he was immediately squeezing his thick head into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your heavenly walls can’t decide between pushing him out or milking the fucking soul out of him.

“S’tight, fuckin’ love this pussy.” Satoru gasps, jaw clenched, trying not to just fuck recklessly into your cunt until you’re drunk on his cock. But God is it difficult to keep his sanity when all he gets in response from you is a choked, wet gurgles. Body bowing into both of theirs as you desperately try to relax both your throat and your cunt.

“Gonna stand around waitin’ or am I gonna have to ruin her pretty pussy for you?” Toji taunts, voice strained as he begins thrusting in quick, harsh strokes into your hot mouth. “Talked big, huh, kid?”

“Fuck off.”

And Satoru’s never one to lag behind. After all, he did graduate at the top of his batch at the academy - he can’t lose face in front of you or his annoying superior either.

So he tightens his grip on your hips, hard enough that he’s pretty sure it bruises. Pushing down on your spine to arch your back deeper onto his cock. “I dunno.” he drawls, “What do you think, sweetheart? Want me to fuck into this tight lil’ pussy? Ruin you on my cock?”

Of course, the only response he gets is a low, wet moan. Luckily, both men understand it as a loud, resounding “yes”.

“Awww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little slut can’t even speak.” It’s the last thing that spills out of Satoru’s mouth before he’s pushing past that tight ring of resistance. No care or concern for your poor pussy because shit his thoughts were too mangled with how heavenly you felt around him.

“You got this, pretty.” he whispers, fucking into you in small, shallow little thrusts just to fit himself inside you. “Take me all like the good girl you are.”

And oh were you such a good girl for him - Satoru thinks he could almost cum on the spot as he finally bottoms out. Sucking up his cock so fucking sinfully as his heavy balls smacking your ass, already so wet with your slick and his precum.

“There ya are.” Toji hums, the image of you choking on his cock while you struggle to take Satoru’s making his head absolutely spin. He can’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing hotly down your spine, making you buck and gag deeper around his dick. In the haze of it all, he catches Satoru’s amused gaze. Spitting out, “What?”

“Softie.”

“Oh, shut up. You can’t even handle her pussy.”

And Satoru took that personally, because he’s reeling his hips back, back, back - all the way till his angry, weeping tip just kissed you sloppy holes. “M’gonna show you, softie.” Body moving before his mind, he starts fucking into your pretty cunt recklessly. Hands groping all over your body possessively, hips moving in rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and the urge to ruin you. Over and over-

Toji only smiles at the little show, your garbled whines every time Satoru hits your poor cervix going straight to his cock - quite literally. And if he angled his head just right, he could see the way your cute cunt was stretching obscenely. Barely-lucidly, he wonders whether your throat would bulge around his just as much.

He taps your cheek, signaling you to blink those pretty eyes so tearily up at him. Balls squeezing painfully, he really can’t help but pump his cock into you faster, matching Satoru’s merciless cadence - ruining you from both sloppy holes. “Sorry, doll. Gotta big ego, so we can’t be outdone, now, can we?”

And then it’s like something snaps because suddenly every movement becomes sloppier, more erratic. Toji’s got a hand around your throat, feeling each thrust as he ruins your gorgeous face. Abs flexing each time he drags your lips on his cock up and down up and down up and- like some toy.

Satoru wasn’t any nicer either - becoming so fucking messy as he fucks you from behind like he was claiming his win. Faster, sloppier.

Biting his lip at the way your ass jiggles each time his hips snap into yours. Pulling you back by the hair to bounce you like some little slut from both ends. And, maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have said something about the way they were using you like their favorite fucktoy - but right now you were so close. Dangerously close. It was too much.

And they probably feel it because suddenly Toji’s leaning down, murmuring hotly against your ear, “S- fuck. Ngh- Close?”

“Fuck, I can feel it too.” Satoru voices from behind, so hoarse with desire, “Suckin’ me up so hah- t-tight it’s almost hard to fuck her.” It’s his cue to reach down deftly and start toying with your ravaged clit, still so sensitive and sore from before. Drawing erratic little circles on it, pinching with his fingers.

You’re letting out throaty, muffled moans of their names, making Toji’s hips stutter. Holding you still as his aching balls smack your ass. “Hngh- shit. Keep doin’ that, brat, this one here loves it.”

“What did I tell ya? S’like this pussy’s made f’me.”

And if they couldn’t feel it then they certainly could see it. They could see the way you were getting messier, pussy dripping all over the carseat now. Mascara running down your face, saliva and precum trailing down your chin. Honestly, it was fucking hard to look at you without cumming right there, too. Because you looked completely and utterly fucked out. So close that it was almost painful.

Maybe that’s why both men speed up their pace impossibly, no reason or rhyme. You feel a wolfish bite on your exposed neck - Satoru - fingers frenzied on your clit, thrusts stemming from such a carnal, depraved part of him. Falling out of sync with Toji as they get so sloppy with the goal to get you off - and get you off so hard that you can’t think about anything but them, them, them-

“Cum, doll.”

This orgasm is more obscene than the last. Far more. Because you honestly don’t even realize you’re cumming, not until you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and feeling Satoru and Toji slamming harshly into you. Once. Twice. Before spilling into you in unison.

And it’s so much that you don’t even know if you can take it.

Toji’s salty on your tongue, pumping thick, hot ropes of tongue into your mouth. Pulling out purposefully like the smug bastard he is to see his seed all messy and dribbling down your face. While Satoru’s much the opposite, keeping his twitching cock stuffed into your tight pussy while he paints your walls white. Not letting you waste a single drop.

But oh he didn’t mind when you finally pull yourself off of Toji’s dick. Cum smearing so sloppily all over your face, and shit he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier.

And Satoru really doesn’t mind when you look back and pull him into a kiss - Toji, too. If you can even call it that, a messy clash of teeth and tongue and cum. So much of it. Swirling and sucking on your tongue, bumping into each other. Just pure fucking filth.

It gets Satoru’s dick so hard and throbbing all over again at how obscene it all was. Some weird little part of him is almost disappointed as Toji breaks the kiss - but not for long. Because his superior shifts, splaying himself out beneath you, while he pulls your limp body on top.

Ah. Great minds really do think alike, he thinks as Toji drags his tip lazily all over your cunt. Pooling your juices on his fat head, grazing your poor, abused clit to where your sloppy pussy was quivering and still stuffed full of Satoru’s cock. Well, not like you didn’t have room for one more. Right?

It’s all you can do to babble deliriously, “W-wha-”

“Shhh, doll. We’ll take care of it.”

“After all, sweetheart, you did say you’d be our good girl…”

A/N. This got taken down the first time I posted it LMAO.

Plagiarism not authorized.

2K notes · View notes

jonnywaistcoat · 2 days

Note

What’s your opinion on the contrast between “silly” and “serious” spaces? Do you think people can have very serious interpretations about a genuine piece of media and also be goofy about it? I’m asking this particularly because I’ve seen people in the Magnus podcast fandoms fight about people “misinterpreting” characters you, Alex, and the many other authors have written. Are you okay with the blorbofication or do you really wish the media you’ve written would be “taken seriously” 100% of the time?

And follow up question, what do you think about the whole “it’s up to the reader (or in some cases, listener) to make their own conclusions and interpretations and that does not make them wrong”, versus the “it was written this way because the author intended it this way, and we should respect that” argument?

This is a question I've given a lot of thought over the years, to the point where I don't know how much I can respond without it becoming a literal essay. But I'll try.

My main principle for this stuff boils roughly down to: "The only incorrect way to respond to art is to try and police the responses of others." Art is an intensely subjective, personal thing, and I think a lot of online spaces that engage with media are somewhat antithetical to what is, to me, a key part of it, which is sitting alone with your response to a story, a character, a scene or an image and allowing yourself to explore it's effect on you. To feel your feelings and think about them in relation to the text.

Now, this is not to say that jokes and goofiness about a piece of art aren't fucking great. I love to watch The Thing and drink in the vibes or arctic desolation and paranoia, or think about the picture it paints of masculinity as a sublimely lonely thing where the most terrible threat is that of an imposed, alien intimacy. And that actually makes me laugh even more the jokey shitpost "Do you think the guys in The Thing ever explored each other's bodies? Yeah but watch out". Silly and serious don't have to be in opposition, and I often find the best jokes about a piece of media come from those who have really engaged with it.

And in terms of interpreting characters? Interpreting and responding to fictional characters is one of the key functions of stories. They're not real people, there is no objective truth to who they are or what they do or why they do it. They are artificial constructs and the life they are given is given by you, the reader/listener/viewer, etc. Your interpetation of them can't be wrong, because your interpretation of them is all that there is, they have no existence outside of that.

And obviously your interpretation will be different to other people's, because your brain, your life, your associations - the building blocks from which the voices you hear on a podcast become realised people in your mind - are entirely your own. Thus you cannot say anyone else's is wrong. You can say "That's not how it came across to me" or "I have a very different reading of that character", but that's it. I suppose if someone is fundamentally missing something (like saying "x character would never use violence" when x character strangles a man to death in chapter 4) you could say "I think that's a significant misreading of the text", but that's only to be reserved for if you have the evidence to back it up and are feeling really savage.

I think this is one of the things that saddens me a bit about some aspects of fandom culture - it has a tendency to police or standardise responses or interpretations, turning them from personal experiences to be explored into public takes to be argued over. It also has the occasional moralistic strain, and if there's one thing I wish I could carve in stone on every fan space it's that Your Responses to a Piece of Art Carry No Intrinsic Moral Weight.

As for authorial intention, that's a simpler one: who gives a shit? Even the author doesn't know their own intentions half the time. There is intentionality there, of course, but often it's a chaotic and shifting mix of theme and story and character which rarely sticks in the mind in the exact form it had during writing. If you ask me what my intention was in a scene from five years ago, I'll give you an answer, but it will be my own current interpretation of a half-remembered thing, altered and warped by my own changing relationship to the work and five years of consideration and change within myself. Or I might not remember at all and just have a guess. And I'm a best case scenario because I'm still alive. Thinking about a writers possible or stated intentions is interesting and can often lead to some compelling discussion or examination, but to try and hold it up as any sort of "truth" is, to my mind, deeply misguided.

Authorial statements can provide interesting context to a work, or suggest possible readings, but they have no actual transformative effect on the text. If an author says of a book that they always imagined y character being black, despite it never being mentioned in the text, that's interesting - what happens if we read that character as black? How does it change our responses to the that character actions and position? How does it affect the wider themes and story? It doesn't, however, actually make y character black because in the text itself their race remains nonspecific. The author lost the ability to make that change the moment it was published. It's not solely theirs anymore.

So yeah, that was a fuckin essay. In conclusion, serious and silly are both good, but serious does not mean yelling at other people about "misinterpretations", it means sitting with your personal explorations of a piece of art. All interpretations are valid unless they've legitimately missed a major part of the text (and even then they're still valid interpretations of whatever incomplete or odd version of the text exists inside that person's brain). Authorial intent is interesting to think about but ultimately unknowable, untrustworthy and certainly not a source of truth. Phew.

Oh, and blorbofication is fine, though it does to my mind sometimes pair with a certain shallowness to one's exploration of the work in question.

#Big thoughts #Big rambles #These are my current thoughts at least #They will likely change #As all things do

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joonberriess · 2 days

Text

w e c a n ’ t b e f r i e n d s

⋆ TAGS — ANGST like rlly bad, toxic relationships, oc and jk dated since they were young, canon au but the boys don’t go to the military, arguing (lots), protected sex, cowgirl styleee, jk’s a little mean, dirty talk, jk’s slightly possessive(?), pussy eating under the sheets, slight face fucking and cum swallowing, bad ending oop, hinted cheating but not between oc and jk, does it count if they weren’t together ur honor, making out, jk’s a really bad bf, oc’s also quick to jump to conclusions sooo toxic combooo

⋆ WORD COUNT — 9.8 k

It’s the same thing (over and over) where you fight and break up, then kiss and make-up. The cycle’s everlasting and it feels like you’re just going in circles.

The littlest things were enough to set either one of you off. It could be that Jungkook looked at you some type of way, or that you used a tone he didn’t like. You fought over the dumbest things but somehow always ended up back together?

Childhood sweethearts, they called it. You started dating all the way back when you were just teens, Jungkook was a bit awkward around the edges but the sweetest boy ever. It was a miracle your relationship survived after he left to train and then you did too.

But as the years went on it seemed sometimes like the love was fading. It just wasn’t the same anymore (evident in your frequent fights). What felt like love once now felt stagnant, like you two just existed in each other’s world and co-existed together.

Yes he was your boyfriend, and you his girlfriend but that was all. Just y/n and Jungkook. It didn’t feel special anymore. When did the love start to die out?

You’ve been thinking about it for a while now in between your breaks from the relationship, and the very thought terrifies you.

“I thought you and Eunwoo were going out?” You softly asked, a bit surprised to see Jungkook still here in the living room.

“Change of plans.” Jungkook shrugs, “Something came up.” He’s curt and brief, doesn’t even look at you when he’s talking which annoys you a tiny bit but for your sake and his you don’t comment.

“Oh, that sucks,” you softly say and slip onto the couch opposite of him, “did he cancel on you or was it just not a good time?” You’re sitting on pins and needles watching him and his reactions closely.

“I dunno,” Jungkook sighs like he’s exasperated by the conversation, “he didn’t tell me.” You know he’s starting to get annoyed when he does that thing with his tongue inside his cheek.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You quietly ask. You’re worried Jungkook didn’t hear you at first but a couple of seconds later he’s nodding and holding out the remote to you.

It doesn’t feel right. It makes you feel like he’s generously giving you the light of day to entertain your “silly ideas”. You don’t like it.

You go about picking a movie, not even bothering with asking him what he wanted to watch. You doubt he’d even reply to you, maybe if you were lucky he’d just say “Pick whichever one.”

“I heard this one’s good.” A hum, “Came out—I think, last month..? Yeah.” Another hum, “Should I bring snacks?” Head shake.

You kinda get the memo and shut up after that, the ache you’re feeling still lingering in your heart. The credits roll in and the movie’s starting, you look out of the corner of your eye to get a look at Jungkook. He’s just sitting there quietly, eyes focused on the TV screen.

It feels normal—looks normal, but you know and feel that it’s really not.

After arguing with yourself in your head, you finally muster the courage to slip off the couch and into Jungkook’s side. You hide your face in his shoulder and lean against him comfortably. Jungkook doesn’t respond for two seconds before he’s casually slipping his hand over your knee.

It feels..good again. You, Jungkook, and his thumb that caresses your knee ever so gently like you’re made of glass. Maybe you really were worried about nothing. It was probably your head messing with you again and making you think things that weren’t true.

Are they though? I don’t know.

“Oh how prettyy,” you softly marvel at the white dress the actress on screen was wearing, “I wanna have one like that when we get married.”

Jungkook doesn’t utter a word and at first you’re like okay, it’s whatever he’s been doing this already anyways. You don’t really begin to think about it until you feel gentle caresses come to a stop. You turn to him to ask what’s wrong but you think you have your answer.

“What, you don’t wanna marry me?” You softly joke but you’re met with silence. He looks troubled, like he wants to say something but can’t get it out, “.. Jungkook? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I was thinking.”

Your stomach does that weird thing again where it feels like it’s dropping. You can hear your own heartbeat ringing in your eardrums too, “About?” You whisper.

Jungkook finally meets your eyes with a pinched expression, “I don’t know if I’m sure about marriage yet, I don’t think I’m ready.” He quietly explains, “I don’t feel ready. I feel like there’s so much more I can still do before settling down.” With you…?

Your eyes almost water but you refuse to let them, “So..you don’t want to marry me?”

“What–no, I said I wasn’t ready,” Jungkook blinks rapidly, “I.. I didn’t say that.” He says once he recovers from the initial shock.

“Then what did you mean?” It comes out snappier than intended, “Because to me it feels like something else.”

Jungkook grows visibly irritated, “y/n you’re blowing shit out of proportion again, I didn’t even say anything about you specifically, why the hell are you twisting my words?”

“You make it sound like I’m being weird about this, you were the weird one when all I said was a tiny joke. You’re the one taking it some type of way.” You’re trembling with adrenaline.

“I was just telling you how I feel,” Jungkook stands up and paces back and forth, “why are you being like this? You always wanna say it’s me who starts arguing but look at you!”

Hot tears of anger well in your eyes, “Because it is always you! You give me weird ass attitudes when I’ve done nothing to you, I barely even talk to you!”

Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, “I’m not doing this again with you. I just fucking can’t, I mean fuck, look at us! All we fucking do is fight, fight, fight and you expect me to wanna marry you? To be stuck with this? No thank you!”

You wipe your tears and stand up, “And there it is, at least I know how you really felt. Saved me my time too.” You glare as you pass by him in the direction of his room.

Jungkook shakes his head, “Where are you going? It’s late.” He calls out loudly, “y/n, answer me.”

“I’m going home Jungkook, it’s fine we’re done. We don’t have to keep doing this anymore.” You look back with dry tears, “I’m done too, I’m tired of pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.”

He doesn’t respond to that, he knows it’s true. “At least let me walk you out to the car.” He quietly murmurs.

“No.”

“y/n, don’t–”

“Leave me alone.” You whisper and storm out of his apartment, away from your home without your heart.

It takes three weeks for you to realize that he’s not coming back. He hasn’t texted or called and suddenly it feels real. You were in deep denial the entire time thinking maybe he’d come around and you could talk it out like you always do. He never showed.

You don’t like this, it hurts like a deep ache you can’t seem to get rid of. You find yourself choking up every time you think about him, you don’t want this. You never wanted this.

“Fuck, please,” you whisper shakily. A few rings go by and then you finally hear him.

“..y/n?”

“Jungkook, I need you.” You softly whisper into the phone, “Please..?” He goes silent on the other end and with each passing beat you’re more worried and anxious.

“Where are you?” He softly replies.

“Home.” You quietly croak, the relief filling you in an instant.

“Okay, stay right there I’m on my way. Please just—just sit tight okay?”

You nod like he’s right here in the room telling you face to face, you don’t even know why. He stays on the phone with you in comfortable silence, you hear when he leaves his apartment, when he starts his car and when he finally pulls into your parking garage.

“Is the door the same code as before?” Jungkook asks quietly.

“Yeah..”

“Okay, I’m here outside.” He hangs up the call briefly and then you hear the beeping noise of your front door unlocking.

The sight of Jungkook has your heart breaking into millions of pieces when you realize he’s not yours. Not anymore. You blink away the fresh tears welling up, he visibly softens and holds his arms out for you.

“Come here.” He softly murmurs. You don’t waste a second and cross the living room into his arms in an instant.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you tightly and holds you against his chest. He shushes you softly and sways side to side while you softly cry into his chest. He whispers everything’s going to be okay but it’s not—not with him not by your side.

“Sit, I’m gonna go bring you some water.” Jungkook softly says as he leads you over to the couch.

You nod quietly and watch with red rimmed eyes as he walks off into your kitchen. There’s a million things running through your head right now but you were more concerned with Jungkook. You hated how distant he was, it felt alien-like and weird.

“Here,” Jungkook murmurs as he comes back with the glass of water, “I brought some tissues too.”

You quietly accept with a soft thanks as you wipe your nose and take a tentative sip of water. He watches you with pity in his eyes, and you don’t want him to look at you like that. It makes your skin crawl and leaves you frustrated because you didn’t want his pity.

You just wanted him.

“So what happened?” Jungkook quietly asks after a few minutes of letting you gather yourself.

“I miss you and it just hurts so bad the way things ended. I’ve been regretting it and it hurts–” You can’t even finish because you’re already tearing up again and Jungkook hushes you softly.

“I know,” he solemnly says, “I know it does. Trust me you’re not the only one feeling like shit about this, you think it’s easy for me to let someone I’ve loved walk away after years? It’s fucking hard.”

He sighs shakily, “But I know that if I truly did love you and wanted the best for you, I’d do this. I just can’t keep up anymore, all the arguing is just not good for us y/n and you know it.”

“I know, I know.” You say into your hands with a sniffle, “But I don’t feel like letting go.”

“Me neither,” Jungkook gently brings your hands into his and looks into your eyes, “but we can’t keep going like this. We tell ourselves it’ll be fine but it’s not, it never is.”

You stare silently into eachothers eyes until Jungkook finds his voice again, “Which is why I think we should just take a break for I don’t know how long but we need to work on ourselves. If you truly loved me like I do to you, you’ll let me go and work on myself. You’ll want me to get better.”

And it’s true. You’ve only ever looked out for his best interest and wanted nothing but good things for him. But is it so bad to want to be a little selfish?

“I know.”

“So you understand we have to actually put in the effort if we want this to work out in the future? We can’t half ass this and rush into things anymore, that’s not how I want it to be between us.” He whispers softly.

You look at Jungkook miserably, “Yeah, I get it..” You quietly say, “I just..just promise me you’ll still be here in the end.”

Jungkook cups your cheek gently and smiles which doesn’t look genuine, it's a more sad bittersweet smile. “I’ll be here.”

“Okay..”

“Okay.”

You’re not together but it doesn’t feel like you’re not together? You don’t know how to explain it but it’s weird.

Before it was obviously a shitshow with all the arguments and whatnot. Several things actually like Jungkook’s attitude and his weird bipolar moods, and then you with your misinterpretations and spiteful words. It’s different now.

It almost feels like you’re happier with him now than before when you two were actually together. It’s funny that it takes a break up for you two to start being civil and loving—more than before actually. You don’t act like exes, and you both know you don’t.

Exes don’t call each other every night to ask how their day went, neither do they sleep over or cook for each other. It’s one thing to call up your ex from time to time but everyday? Were there no boundaries because you two clearly needed to set some.

Your friends tell you they’re proud but you don’t feel so good knowing you’re still going back to him every night. Sometimes you fuck, sometimes you don’t, most days he’ll just want company or someone to come with him to shop for groceries. You do all these things telling yourself you’re just here for support, nothing wrong in that right?

There’s nothing wrong with being friends with your ex, right? That’s all it is, just friends.

“Hold on, I'll be back, I got a call.” You excuse yourself from the table and head into another room for more privacy. “Hello?”

“Hey, are you doing anything right now?” It’s Jungkook again and it makes your tummy flutter with butterflies at the sound of his voice.

“Uhh, not really? I’m just having some dinner with friends, why?”

“No reason I just wanted to see if you could come over and maybe we can watch a movie or somethin’. I also realized I might have ordered a little too much fried chicken, old habits die hard I guess.” He jokes softly.

You think it’s a little cute and you can’t help but say yes right away, “Let me finish up real quick and I’ll head over in a bit.” You’re smiling like an idiot right now.

“I can come get you..? Only if you want me to though.”

“That sounds good to me, text me when you get here then.” You softly say, “Bye.” It’s a little awkward not saying ‘love you’ but then you remember you’re not technically together and your entire mood is soured a little.

Shit, what are you going to tell the girls? Something came up and you have to go? No, they’ll ask and you’re a horrible liar. Plus you’re stressing out a little over how you’re going to leave undetected, what if Soyeon tries to walk you out to the car or something? You don’t drive but Soyeon has a habit of walking you out whenever you leave her house (god bless).

It’s moments like these that make you wish Soyeon wouldn’t offer, just for today.

“Hey what’s up?” Soyeon says when she sees you re-enter the room, “Everything good?”

“Yeah but I forgot I had a meeting coming up, it’s about a comeback coming up soon and they need me for creative directing or something. Point is I gotta go guys, sorry.” You don’t like lying to them like this but they’re gonna give you shit and right now you don’t want to hear it.

“Oh cool, okay then we’ll hang some other time then yeah?” Soyeon smiles as she begins pushing her seat back. Oh no.

“Stay here it’s fine, the car’s almost here anyways and it’s a bit chilly outsideeee so stayyy.” You whine while pushing her back into her seat, “Also Miyeon’s literally here, keep her company don’t be rude.”

Both girls look confused as Soyeon raises a brow in question, “Miyeon’s fine she sees me almost everyday. Just let me walk you out weirdo.”

“You’re not even wearing shorts Yeon, just sit this one out I’m good. I’ll text you when I get in the car and stuff okay?” Soyeon doesn’t look convinced but she nods anyways and agrees to let you go reluctantly, “Bye!” You wave and hurriedly make your way out after Jungkook texts you he’s here.

“Byeee.” Once you’re out the door you let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding in. Why was that girl so damn stubborn? You love her to death but now was NOT the time.

jk: outside

You hurried down the hall and to the elevator. Jungkook was waiting for you in the parking lot outside of his car, just leaned back against the hood of it with his hands in his pockets. “Are you cold?” He asks as soon as you come in front of him.

“A little bit,” you smile and sink into his warm and welcoming embrace, “you’re super warm though.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly and strokes your hair, “Here I’ll give you my sweater.” He shrugs it off and holds it out to slip you in it, “You look funny.” He laughs.

“Your face is funny.” You stick your tongue out meanly meanwhile he laughs, “Alright hurry up, I’m cold and hungry.” You pull away from him and head to your side of the car, happily sighing as the warm air from inside hits you.

“I thought you ate already.” Jungkook snorts in amusement as he slips into the car.

“Well I’m hungry again.” You grumble.

He doesn’t respond verbally at least, he shifts the car into drive with a tiny smile on his face. You find yourself leaning back into your seat with a soft smile of your own. Times like these you were able to just sit back and forget about everything and anything. The only thing that mattered right now was you and Jungkook.

That’s it.

The movie ended up becoming background noise over the soft sounds of Jungkook’s lips meeting your own over and over again. The food lays discarded on his coffee table, half-eaten with a couple of soju bottles littering around the boxes.

It feels good like this with Jungkook’s hand tangled in your hair and his other settled over your hip. You’re sitting halfway in his lap, the angle a bit awkward but doable nonetheless. You hear him release a low grunt in his throat, lips smacking wetly over your own as he tightens his fingers on your hip.

You thread your fingers through his hair, stroking over his head gently pretending to not notice how he leaned into your touch eagerly. You barely even notice when he impatiently drags you onto his lap and sits you firmly over his thighs, your own bracketing his hips and closing him in.

“Jungkook,” you quietly sigh while bearing down on him and grinding over the thick bulge in his joggers.

“Yeah..?” He replies through a quiet sigh as his half-lidded eyes watch down below between you two where your clothed cunt is pressed tight to his hard cock.

You can’t reply because you’re caught off guard by a bubbling moan in your throat. You find yourself gripping the collar of his shirt tightly between nimble fingers when he suddenly bucks his hips up sharply. The print of his dick presses tighter against your slick folds, the head messily bumping into your throbbing clit.

Jungkook lets out a ragged groan as he tilts his head back and parts from the messy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. He guides your hips with both hands as he rolls you over his cock and holds you down to keep you in place. It makes your breath hitch and a stuttered moan slip from your lips.

“Fuck..” You pant softly as your toes curl, “Need you so bad.” You whisper in between the short rough grinds.

He bites his lip harshly and reaches down to unbutton your jeans, you help him slide them off as he hooks his fingers under your panties and tugs them to the side. You feel his fingertips slide through your messy folds, circling over your swollen bud and pressing down with the pads of his fingers.

The slide’s pretty slippery, you barely feel his touch but the pleasure bubbles over and leaves you tingly and hot down there. Jungkook teases you by dipping his fingers low against your fluttering hole that greedily squeezes around nothing. “Don’t tease,” you mutter softly and lean forward to press kisses against his jawline.

“Fuck, wait.” He reaches over and blindly pats the sofa for something you can’t really be bothered to look at. A low hum leaves him when he finally finds what he was looking for: condom.

You watch him bite the foil open and reach down to shove his sweats off, the way his dick slaps against his stomach has you squirming in anticipation. He hisses low through his teeth as he strokes the tip slowly before rolling the condom on. You watch hungrily as his cock’s engulfed in the thin rubber, standing hard ‘n tall with a beady pearl of precum getting trapped within the condom.

“Good?” He mumbles once he positions his cock under you, the tip’s barely brushing over your hole before you’re whining at him for more.

“I’m good,” you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, “now fuck me..please?” You say after a couple of seconds of silence.

Jungkook huffs out a breathless laugh and shakes his head, “You’re cute.” His amused tone dissolves into a low moan when you start pushing his cock in, inching yourself down until your perk ass meets his thighs with a low pap noise.

Fuck you forgot how full he makes you feel when you ride him, your poor little cunt’s all stuffed up with his fat cock. It doesn’t help that there’s a little sting from the stretch with the way your pussy hugs his cock tightly. Jungkook though looks blissed out, he bites his lip and watches through hooded eyes, he’s moving his hands to grip your hips tight.

“Feels so good,” you slur out and start bounding idly, not too fast or slow, “feel..full.” Your tone comes out lewd and borderline pornographic. Can he blame you? His dick always fucked you stupid, turned you into a little yapper too.

Jungkook grunts quietly, “Yeah? You’re gonna be a good girl and ride me like you mean it baby?” The words slip out of his filthy mouth like nothing, you almost forgot the nasty shit he used to tell you when he was plowing your brains out on a Tuesday night.

“Y-Yeah,” you gasp softly as your eyes flutter shut when he hits that one spot you like, “so, so good Jungkookie,” you whine quietly while rocking your hips back and forth, your cunt greedily swallows him up through every push and tug.

Jungkook groans low and moves his hands to settle over your ass cheeks, he grips each cheek in his hand and squeezes, kneading the flesh under his palms. “Shit–like that,” he huffs softly as he guides your hips in smooth fluid grinds, “so fuckin’ good.” He groans again and tosses his head back.

You bite on your lower lip to supress your whimpers, your hips bounce lightly in his lap with a low fopping sound as Jungkook’s cock coaxes more slick out of your pussy. You’re dripping through the sides as a low squelch emits from your sopping cunt. Through the soft moans and grunts you there’s a skin on skin slapping sound your ass makes when they meet his thighs.

“Oh, fuck.” You whisper, breathing picking up as your hands slide down to settle over his abdomen for purchase.

Jungkook’s lips part, eyesbrows pinching together in concentration as he watches you fuck yourself languidly on his cock. His body lightly rocks upwards from your eager bouncing, the slapping noises only get louder the more you grow desperate. He can’t help but land a hard smack on your cheek, watching in satisfaction as you mewl from both pain and pleasure.

“You like that baby?” He breathlessly asks, “Like being slapped around like a slut? Hm?”

“Y-Yeah,” you gasp shakily and throw your head back, “love it so much Jungkookie,” you mewl.

Jungkook moves one hand from your ass up to your head, fisting the back of your hair and forcing you to expose your neck for him. “How much?” He grunts low, “Whose cock makes you scream like this?”

You swear the ache in your skull from him yanking on your hair makes you even wetter. The throbbing in your pussy has you wildly grinding against him for more, you can’t even reply because of the uncontrollable moans you’re letting out right now.

“Answer me,” he hisses with another smack to your cheek.

“You do! Only you,” you softly sob as he stops you and holds you in place, “please ‘m so close, wanna cum.” You try to bounce, move, anything—but he’s not letting up as he holds you in place and leaves you squirming all over his cock.

“Cum.” Jungkook darkly murmurs as he begins fucking into you from below, his sharp thrusts send you flying into his chest as you cry out.

He drives his cock right up against your g-spot with each hit, the living room quickly fills with the sounds of his balls hitting your ass and the couch creaking from the weight. He doesn’t hold back on his moans either, he’s cussing and groaning under his breath as he uses your pussy to his liking. You on the other hand..

“Jungkook..!” You feel your pussy clamp down and you reach down to rub at your clit in fast circles, trembling and whining as your orgasm approaches fast.

He grips your cheeks tighter and spreads you open as he fucks his cock in and out of your sloppy cunt. Your mouth falls open as the wind is knocked out of you, you’re coming fast and hard as stars explode behind your eyelids. You feel like a ragdoll in his hands as he fucks away into your oversensitive cunt.

“Shit—nearly there baby,” he whispers as his eyes flutter shut in pleasure, “oh fuck.” He grits his teeth and bucks up hard until his hips are stuttering in their pace and he’s groaning loud.

You wish he wasn’t wearing the condom as you feel every little throb and twitch inside. It makes you drool at the thought of his hot thick cum filling your ruined little pussy, it’d probably drip afterward too..

“Good?” He quietly asks as he tries to catch his breath.

You end up laying your head on his shoulder for a couple of seconds, enjoying the way he rubs your back gently in a comforting manner. “Yeah, ‘m okay.” You softly reply while clinging to him like a koala.

Jungkook hums, you don’t go home after that, or the day after.

“Damn when did it get so hot?” Taehyung complains under his breath, “Swear it feels like the weather was cooler yesterday, don’t tell me summer’s already coming.” He groans.

Jungkook hears Hoseok grunt in agreement, “Can you believe spring’s almost over though? We’re like a month away from summer starting.”

“What? No way.” Jungkook frowns, it can’t be, the last time he spoke with you was—

“You realize we’re in the last month of spring right?” Taehyung looks at him weirdly with a snort, “Have you been living under a rock or something?”

Hoseok joins in on the teasing but Jungkook doesn’t think it’s so funny anymore. Not when he realizes it’s been almost two whole months since you and him decided to take a break. He hasn’t really kept up with your life like that, the last time he spoke was when he asked if you were home and then he did go over and you guys ended up—

Holy shit.

“Jungkook,” Hoseok calls out, “your phone’s ringing.” By the looks on their faces they know who’s calling right now. Hoseok looks mildly disappointed and Taehyung just seems tired of it.

“Are you gonna answer it?” Taehyung asks tentatively.

Jungkook looks at your caller ID and then silences his ringer, “Nah, I’ll see what’s up later. Where do you guys wanna go next?” They look at him like he’s crazy and Jungkook sighs, “What?”

“We didn’t know you guys were still together, thought the breakup was for good.” Hoseok quietly admits.

Oh. Right, Jungkook’s been talking about how you’ve both been separated for a cool minute now. Of course they would naturally think that you’ve both finally realized you’re no good and left each other the fuck alone. He’ll never forget their proud faces when Jungkook admitted he walked away from it.

“Look, she’s a good person and all that but is it really worth it if all you do is fight and tear at each other? I mean it’s not like this is the first time.” Taehyung rambles slowly as Hoseok nods along to every word, “Don’t you think that maybe answering her would fuck up all the progress you’ve made so far?”

Will it? Jungkook likes to think that maybe he’s doing a good job but clearly not if Taehyung and Hoseok are calling him out on it. Of course they want the best for him too, they’ve been his hyungs since forever (but you were his forever too).

“Look I know it’s bad,” Jungkook sighs, “but I just can’t leave her like that either, it’s wrong. She’s been in my life since we were kids Tae, I’m not gonna just ditch her like that.”

“And nobody’s mad at you for it but Jungkook c’mon, you need to set some boundaries for your sake man. You can’t fall back into this nasty habit, not when you’re doing so good for yourself right now.” Jungkook knows Taehyung’s referring to his upcoming Golden album release.

“Listen, we’re not gonna police you because you’re a big boy and you can deal with your own shit but I’m just telling you right now it’s not a good idea whatever you’re doing with her right now. The sooner you begin to pull away, the easier it will be when you two finally decide on the future of your relationship.” Hoseok finishes quietly.

They’re right and Jungkook hates that they are. As unsettling as the truth is, that’s just what it is and Jungkook can’t change that.

You’re broken up but why does he still go over? Why does he cook for you two, watch movies in bed like a couple and then fuck you to sleep before the cycle repeats over and over? Did you ever break up to begin with?

“If you want this to work you need to let go.” Taehyung’s hand comes up to squeeze his shoulder, “Some things were not made to be forever, and unfortunately this is one of them.”

Jungkook looks up at the two men in front of him, they’ve each got reassuring smiles on their faces and for the first time he feels good about his decisions. He makes a mental note in the back of his head to speak with you later on, for now he’ll just enjoy this.

“I didn’t know you and Jungkook were still together.” Soyeon comments upon seeing a sweater she knew was too big to be yours and quite frankly wasn’t something you’d personally go out and buy yourself.

“Oh, that—we’re actually not.” You chuckle under your breath, “He left it here the other day–”

“The other day?” Yuqi frowns, “What do you mean? I thought you guys haven’t seen each other in two months?” You can tell they’re equally confused about the situation.

“We aren’t together-together, we’re just kinda hooking up here and there whenever we feel like it.” You shrug.

“Uh-huh, and he just leaves his clothes too?” Soyeon raises a brow, “y/n—babe, I love you but what the hell? I thought you and him were completely done already?” She says, Yuqi nodding along in agreement.

Now it’s your turn to look at them confused, “What? We’re just hooking up, it isn’t anything bad either I mean we’re doing better now than before.”

Soyeon sighs deeply and sits down, “Have you maybe thought about why things are better now? Because you’re not together y/n, you’re only doing ‘better’ now because you don’t have a label to the relationship because you’re both pretending shit’s okay.”

“This can’t be good either y/n, it’s not healthy it’s just gonna lead you both down the same path as before. You guys think that because you’re happy now, the issues aren’t gonna be there.” Yuqi shakes her head.

Of course you knew they were gonna start with this but your pride was too strong to admit that they were of course right about this. It’s something you’ve been intentionally ignoring, kind of like if you don’t think about it, it’s not true type of thing. Which in itself was a pretty bad mindset.

“But we’re gonna fix things.” You softly reply.

“Are you?” Soyeon looks like she doesn’t believe you, you don’t even believe yourself.

Yes, yes, yes—

“I don’t know.” You find yourself saying without thinking, that’s the truth right? Right..?

Yuqi sighs sympathetically and shakes her head, “It’s time to let go, it’s over y/n—for good. I know it’s hard love but you have to do it.”

“I’ll…talk to him later about it, can’t guarantee this but I’m going to try to break things off permanently.” You’re just tired of this back and forth with yourself wondering if Jungkook and you are truly going to be okay.

You know you both will be okay…just not together and that’s what hurts the most to think about. They don’t push the topic anymore, something you’re thankful for. The entire time you’re with the girls you’re stuck thinking about Jungkook.

you: come over

You spent at least ten minutes with your thumb hovering over the button before you actually pressed it. It shouldn’t be so fucking scary but you’re just extremely nervous right now. Your friend’s words ring in your head over and over again like a mantra and you feel like you’re going mad.

jk: rn?

you: yea, really want to see you

jk: me too.

read.

It’s the shit like this that makes you question everything. You hate how weak you are because Jungkook can sweet talk his way into your head and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. It’s not like he does it intentionally but still the power he holds over you, it’s stupid.

After the girls left you ended up cleaning the living room a bit, stopping in your tracks when you came across the sweater he left behind. You stare at it for a couple of seconds before slipping it on finding it much more comfy wearing his clothes. You hear the front door keypad beeping before it unlocks and Jungkook’s slipping in.

“Hey.” He greets quietly and shuts the door behind him.

You smile up at him and tug on the sweater paws, taking note of the sweaty state he was in, “You coming from the gym orrrr…?”

“Oh yeah,” he laughs, “I just got finished with working out when you texted me. Look at that,” he flexes his bicep to show you, “hot huh?” He grins.

“Ew no as if, go take a damn shower you probably stink.” You pretend to cover your nose and gag, giggling when he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” He walks over to tug you into his arms, “This my hoodie?” He mumbles, “Looks good.”

You let him lay soft kisses over your pouty lips until you’re pushing him away with a low grumble, “Go shower now, I don’t wanna stink of sweat in your hoodie.” You snort.

Jungkook lays one last kiss over your forehead and walks in the direction of your room, “So mean and for what? It’s literally my hoodie who cares if it stinks? I’m gonna be taking it off anyways.” He smirks deviously.

You follow with a unamused look, one that leaves no room for anymore arguments. “I’ll wait for you out here,” you flop on the bed and turn on your TV, “go on, shoo.”

“Meanie.” Jungkook mumbles but makes his way into your bathroom nonetheless.

You catch up on some of your shows you were watching at the moment while waiting for Jungkook to come back out. You’ve long made yourself comfortable in bed, curled up under your soft comforter with the remote in hand. He doesn’t come out for at least fifteen minutes or so, you don’t really mind because it feels oddly domestic.

“You’re watching this too?” Jungkook breaks the silence in the room, “I’m on the last episode.”

You barely look at him as he walks over to the bed in nothing but his towel wrapped around his waist. “Yeah, I started this like a week ago I think.” You murmur distractedly as he flops in bed with you, “Don’t get my pillows wet,” you whine with no real bite to your tone.

“It’ll dry.” Jungkook snorts as he lays his head over your blanket covered lap. The two of you fall into silence afterwards with him loosely wrapping an arm around you.

Nothing happens after that, you lay together quietly while the episode runs in the background. Occasionally Jungkook turns to hide his face in your lap, you can’t help but slip your hand in his wet hair and gently comb over it, lightly scratching at his scalp.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I spoiled it?” He pipes up out of nowhere.

“Do it and I’m throwing you out towel and all.” You glare as he starts giggling in amusement, “I’m serious, do it and you’re out.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He says as he lifts his head up, “But I’m a little bored,” he pouts and draws circles over your thigh, “I already watched these episodesss.”

“I dunno do something. Go order food or find some in my fridge, I don’t know.” You sigh.

Jungkook doesn’t reply and instead nuzzles into you, “I have something else I can do in mind..” He trails off and slips his hand under your comforter to stroke your thigh.

You don’t say anything, instead you part your thighs for him as a silent ‘go on’. He takes the bait easily and slips under the comforter with a devious grin, “Jungkook– ow, don’t bite me you ass. Why did you do that?”

Instead of answering you he just reaches under for the waistband of your shorts, peeling them off alongside your panties in one go. You can feel his hot breath hovering over your pussy, his tongue dips low between your soft folds as he licks a stripe up your cunt.

He circles his tongue around your clit, swiping from side to side and front/back. It’s enough to have your knees buckling weakly as you reach over the comfort to place your hand where his head would be as you sighed in pleasure.

“Like you better when your mouth’s full.” You find yourself mumbling.

Jungkook grunts in affirmation, he wraps his arms around your and tugs your hips closer to his face. He’s literally buried in your soft cunt, nose poking at your clit while he licks over your slick lips, sucking on your soft fold with a pleased hum.

You push up with a low moan and angle your hips down so that he’s licking over your swollen clit. “Shit, jus’ like that,” you tilt your head back and close your eyes enjoying the sensation of his tongue.

He lays one hand flat over your pelvis and holds you down while he sucks on your clit feverishly. It sends your back arching off the bed from the sudden spark of pleasure. “Fuck..!” You hiss out when he engulfs your tiny bud between his lips and sucks.

Jungkook doesn’t disappoint. He slurps and licks like no tomorrow while he prods his fingers against your pussy. You’re literally scrambling to get a grip on him, your pathetic little moans and whines spurring him on as he finally slides his fingers deep.

“More, gimme more please,” you mewl.

You hear him shuffling around down there so you naturally take a peek out of curiosity. The sight has your mouth dropping in awe when you come across him fisting his cock from under the sheets while he eats you out like you’re the best meal ever.

“Coming,” you gasp softly as your fingers tangle themselves in his hair.

Jungkook sucks harder with a hint of teeth, he curls his fingers at the same time and fucks them right up against the roof of your cunt. It has you crying out his name and pushing his head away as your pussy clenches tight and then suddenly you’re gushing all over him.

“Jesus,” he whispers and covers your cunt with his hot mouth, licking up the entire mess you made all over yourself.

“Come here.” You dryly whisper after noticing he didn’t cum.

He obeys without hesitation, he knows what you want so he climbs up and kneels beside you with his weeping cock over your lips. “You sure? I don’t mind.” He murmurs.

“I want to.” You softly reply and part your lips, “Don’t want you to be gentle with me.. I can take it.” You murmur as you engulf the head of his cock slowly.

Jungkook hisses quietly and guides your head until your nose is meeting his groin. You gag around him with the saliva quickly building up in your mouth. He doesn’t mind though because he absolutely loves it when you slobber all over him.

“Don’t you look pretty with a mouth full of cock?” He grins teasingly despite being minutes away from coming, like he wasn’t edging himself before when he was eating your cunt.

You moan unabashedly as tears spring in your eyes. He doesn’t waste anymore time after that and begins fucking into your mouth unapologetically. He doesn’t even start off slow, he’s desperate to cum and you get it. You’re salivating at the thought of his cock filling your throat and leaving you sore.

He grips the headboard above to stable himself as he slides himself in and out of your mouth. Jungkook moans under his breath as he bucks his hips rather harshly, just listening to the sound of your gags and saliva dripping.

“So fuckin’ good,” he mutters, “you take it so good for me.”

You know he’s getting close when he starts getting quieter and instead puts his attention on his pleasure. The only noise around is the sound of your gagging and his labored breathing. You feel his cock start twitching and throbbing until he’s shouting from the pleasure and coming down your throat.

“Shit—stop, stop, stop.” He sighs as he gently pulls you off his cock, “Fuck.” He says after catching his breath.

Cleanup is fairly quiet, he helps you change the sheets and get dressed into comfier clothes before you’re both climbing back into the bed and sitting side by side, body to body. It feels all too real and suddenly realization is hitting you hard.

The silence is comfortable between you two, the scene feels a little familiar (you, him, a movie and your head on his shoulder) but you don’t comment because it makes you feel a little uncomfortable. Like before, Jungkook caresses his hand over your thigh gently with a comforting grip after.

“Why did we ever fall out?” You quietly pipe up, “Like where did it all go downhill?”

He stops in his tracks, he doesn’t look mad or upset that you brought it up out of the blue. He looks..at ease. “I don’t know, but I think it has to do a lot with the fact that we slowly grew out of each other? Kinda like we just lost the love and it wasn’t the same anymore, and instead of trying to fix it we just acted like our problems weren’t there.”

Jungkook calmly continues after taking in your reaction, “I love you don’t get me wrong, you’ve given me the best years but I just think we finally grew apart. Think about it—the fights, the breakups and make ups? We got to a point where we just didn’t care anymore.”

“I know, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I want you forever.” You softly admit.

“No you don’t y/n,” he replies equally softly, “you don’t want us—this, forever.”

It’s like a punch to your gut, why is he saying this? Why is acting like he knows what you want? You know what you want, and you want him. Is he trying to call you a liar? A saner part inside of your head eerily tells you he’s right, you don’t want that. You want happiness.

“I do know what I want actually, why are you thinking otherwise? You’re making a decision for me without even asking me how I feel about this?” You frown and push yourself off his shoulder.

“y/n,” Jungkook pauses briefly before shaking his head, “trust me I know you don’t want this. It’s not hard and it doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to see we’re not made for eachother. I’m sorry I need to tell you like this but whatever the fuck we had is something I sure as hell don’t want.”

It literally crushes your spirit because you knew what was coming, you KNEW he was going to tell you the cold hard truth sooner or later. It’s all everyone's been warning you about and now you have no room to cry about it. You had nobody but yourself to blame for your heartbreak. Not Jungkook, not Soyeon, not Yuqi.

Just you.

“You know what Jungkook, fuck you.” You fiercely whisper and push yourself off of him, “No actually, fuck you. You don’t get to tell me what I want and don’t want–”

“Because I know what the fuck I want and it’s not you! As fucking sad as it is y/n I can’t do this shit anymore,” he stands up too and begins hazardously dressing himself in his clothes again, “I know what I’ve done is shitty and I hope you can forgive me for it but I’m not willing to stick around anymore. Not after this.”

You watch in silence as he picks his things up off the floor and storms out. Not one word is spoken throughout the entire ordeal. Jungkook gets his shit and leaves like nothing ever happened, like you didn’t tell him to fuck himself and he didn’t respond by saying he didn’t want you.

When he finally leaves with a loud slam, your resolve crumbles and soft sniffles begin to fill the too empty apartment. You look around the room with red-rimmed eyes, now what are you gonna do?

You fucked up, again.

Jungkook doesn’t talk to you—doesn’t even text—for a total of two weeks and counting. You tried distracting yourself with work and your upcoming comeback but it was hard to focus. Not when your mind keeps going back to him and what happened that night.

“You don’t look so good, you sure you’re okay?” Your manager says with a look of concern on her face, “I can wrap things up and we can get you home if that’s what you want.”

“Please,” you find yourself nodding, “I’ll um let you know later on how I’m doing and stuff, for now I just wanna be alone.”

They understand you’re not doing well emotionally as of lately so they don’t question it when you request to be left alone. They simply wrap it up and call for your driver to take you home. A few staff send you off with tiny gifts and comforting hugs but none are enough to take away from the misery you’re feeling right now.

You make a quick stop at the store on your way home, you’ve never felt more dead in your entire life than right now. Even buying groceries proves to be a hard task but you somehow push through it and buy what you need.

The entire time you're there you think about Jungkook, should you call him to clear things up? Apologize for the shitty things you’ve ever said and for how you’ve acted towards him over the slightest inconveniences?

‘The phone’s right there,’ a little voice inside your head whispers, ‘just open up and click on his name, he’s right there.’

Do it, do it, do it, they chant.

Before you even realize it you’re dialing his number, the phone pressed tight against your ear as you wait with a bated breath for him to pick up. Three rings go by until finally Jungkook picks up with a quiet ‘hello’. “Hey,” you quietly mumble, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing much, I was cooking about a minute ago. You?” He sounds distant, like he’s catching up with an acquaintance.

“Cool, and nothing either, I just went to the store and bought a few things I needed.” You play with a strand of loose hair, suddenly finding that much more interesting to look at.

“That’s good.” He murmurs and it goes quiet after that.

Neither of you know what to say right now, you don’t even know where to begin. What can you say? Hey I’m sorry I told you to fuck yourself? I’m sorry for my shitty ass attitude? I’m sorry for being a bad girlfriend? There’s so much to say but you can’t find the words for it.

“Jungkook,” you hesitantly say after finding the courage to speak, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything, I know I fucked up over and over again but I want to let you know I’m sorry I treated you the way I did and for the things I said.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything and for a second he scares you thinking that he hung up or something. “I know, and I’m sorry too for the way I acted and shit. I know we haven’t been the best but for what it’s worth none of this was ever your fault. Things just didn’t end up working out.”

You hate that this feels like a permanent goodbye, it must have really been the last straw for him the last time you spoke. You find yourself tearing up and there’s a heavy lump sitting in your throat. You don’t know whether you want to cry, scream, or run off.

“It’s just hard when I miss you this much,” you quietly reply despite the wobble in your voice.

“I know,” you hear him take a deep breath and before he can reply you hear it.

There’s a low shuffling noise in the back, at first you think nothing of it until you realize it’s a feminine voice asking Jungkook if he wants her to help clean up the mess.

Your heart rapidly beats in your chest, the pounding in your ears so loud you swear you feel like you’re going to have a heart attack with how fast it’s going. “Didn’t know you moved on already.”

“It’s not like that–”

“Then what is it like Jungkook? Because to me it sounds exactly what I’m imagining right now—don’t try and treat me like I’m fucking stupid.” You wipe your tears of frustration while pacing back and forth.

“Okay fine, you want the truth: I met someone and I’m getting to know them, I’m thinkin’ maybe she can make me happy too. Is that what you wanted to hear from me?” He snaps back.

“When.” You coldly demand, the anger you feel right now is astronomical.

Jungkook holds his breath for a few seconds, “A month ago.”

Your entire world stops then and there. So while you and Jungkook were doing these lovey dovey things and still seeing each other, he was already talking to someone new. All this and for what? He found someone new while still using you as an escape from reality (for fun really), and to know he was doing this while having someone on the side waiting?

It makes you sick to your stomach.

“D-Don’t you ever come near me. We’re done, so fucking done. How could you fucking do that to me? You knew how I fucking felt about all this and you went and pulled this? I hate you, I hate you.” You can’t even speak, it physically pains you to talk.

Through your sobs you manage to shakily hang up and head for your bedroom. You toss a bunch of clothes on the bed and drag your heavy suitcase out of the closet. You don’t know where you’re going, but at this point you’ll go anywhere if it means you can get away from this place.

All that’s left is the sounds of your sobs and clothes shuffling as you stuff them into your suitcase messily. You feel so alone and empty wondering what everyone else in the world is doing right now. Surely not getting their heart stomped on like you, right?

As you're finishing up with your closet, you hear the front door beep and buzz. No, no, no, he is not doing this right now you think while storming out to the living room. He’s already coming in as you’re stepping out.

“y/n–”

“What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to leave me the fuck alone!” You throw a vase in his direction watching him yell out in shock as he barely manages to dodge it.

“Fucking hell—calm down! You’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“And why do you care? You didn’t before so what’s fucking different now!” You wipe your face and stomp to your bedroom with Jungkook hot on your tail.

He tries to grab your arm but you rip yourself away from him in fury which makes him get the memo instantly, “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay, I don’t want you to hurt yourself or do anything stupid.” He stops in his tracks when he sees the state your bedroom’s in.

“y/n..what are you doing?” He quietly asks, his doe eyes filled with surprise and a mix of fear.

You take a deep breath and hold it in for a couple of seconds, letting it out slowly when you feel calm enough to reply, “I’m leaving Jungkook, all this—I’m done. I had hopes that maybe we could solve things and make it work again but it looks like only one of us wanted this.” You smile sadly.

“I choose myself Jungkook, I did some petty shit and said dumb things and I’m sorry for it. Looking back on it, it was me who refused to move on. I was so hung up on making things work I just didn’t realize I was dragging you down and forcing you to be with me.”

Jungkook visibly deflates with hurt written all over his face, “I’m sorry too, I never meant to lead you on and if I did I’m so sorry for it y/n. You deserve someone who can make you happy, and I’m sorry that someone can’t be me.”

You stand across from each other in silence. Jungkook looks down at your luggage with his own sad smile, “Maybe..we could be friends?”

“No,” you softly reply and get back to packing, “we can’t be friends, but I’d like to pretend.”

“So this is goodbye then.” Jungkook’s got his own unshed tears ready to fall.

“Yeah, I guess so..”

He looks up at you and tearfully smiles, “Goodbye y/n.”

You match his smile with one of your own, “Bye, Jungkook.” Maybe in your next life you will both be happy. But not in this one.

For now, it’s only me and maybe that’s all I need.

One year later.

“It’s only gonna be for two weeks, you big baby. You’re acting like I won’t get on a plane and go see you.” You laugh softly and shake your head, “Besides, I thought you were taking me to the beach in LA?”

“I am! But I wanted you there with me,” Mingi looks at you with pursed lips, “wanted you to see me on stage.”

You can’t help but coo and squeeze his cheek, “You’re so cute, don’t worry I’ll make sure I don’t miss it.” He smiles happily and you can’t help but lean in for a smooch on the cheek.

“Oh wait, I saw a guy selling ice cream back there. Wait for me right here, I’ll be back.” Mingi heads back to all the food stalls leaving you there in front of this cafe.

You hum under your breath and check on your messages, replying to friends who slid up on your story asking if you were finally back. It felt good to be home after all that went down before, you really needed the break.

“Hold on, I got it, let me carry it for you.” You hear a familiar voice say which instantly has you turning around to look.

It’s Jungkook and he still looks the same as before minus the hair he’s cut short now and has it in an undercut. You feel weird seeing him again after all this time. Weird in a good way? You don’t know, but it isn’t bad either. You kinda don’t feel anything.

You curiously look over at his girlfriend(?), stopping in your tracks when you notice a pretty ring on her finger. It suits her. You look back up and come face to face with Jungkook who stands there in shock too.

There’s a million things you can say or do right now, but you don’t. In fact you’re happy for him.

“Did I take long?” Mingi suddenly pops up behind you holding two ice cream cones, “I got your favorite.” He grins foolishly.

You break away from Jungkook and look at Mingi, “Thanks, how sweet of you.” You grin and lean in to kiss his cheek again, “Ready to go? I’m kinda tired of being outside.” You complain softly.

Mingi lets you take the cones from his hands and instead wraps his arm around your waist leading you through the crowd of people. Your heart races as you two get closer to Jungkook and his fiancé. Just for a second you meet his eyes, and then you smile before turning your attention back to Mingi.

Jungkook smiles back and just like that, you move on with your lives.

My love, I won’t wait for your love.

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#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

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vivwritesfics · 22 hours

Text

Translator

Oscar Piastri doesn't need a translator, Lando's sister/ Oscars girlfriend disagrees.

Exists in the same universe as "oscah" but they can be read as standalones

Oscar wasn't doing anything special,just talking to Logan when she came over. He greeted her with a small hello, placed his arm over her shoulder and went right back to talking to Logan.

It was a perfectly ordinary interaction, the Formula One drivers thought.

Once Oscar had finished his sentence, as he waited for Logan to reply, she held up her hand. "I got this," she mumbled.

"Got what?" Logan asked, admittedly a little scared. There wasn't anything wrong with Oscar's girlfriend. I mean, Oscar loved her, so she had to be doing something right.

She let out a scoff, one that had the boys knowing that, whatever she was saying, she had to be joking. "So, what Oscar has just said to you, Logan, was 'Hugh Jackman, Kangaroo, shrimp, shrimp, boomerang'."

She looked so serious, Logan couldn't help but laugh. But she looked at him like she was expecting something, eyebrows slightly raised, head tipped towards him. "Logan, your response?"

"Oh my god." It really was ridiculous and oh so her. How hadn't they gotten so used to her shenanigans by now? "Uhm, boomerangs, shrimp. Koala, koala, Straya."

With her face still seriously, she turned towards her boyfriend. "Logan just said he thinks you're an asshole and he wants to give you a big ol' kiss."

"Hey!" Logan cried. "I... did not say that."

Oscar laughed as he pulled her into his chest and pressed his lips against the top of her head. She kissed her boyfriend's cheek and said a goodbye to the two of them, heading back to her brother in the McLaren garage.

She didn't know when she started translating Australian for Oscar. It wasn't something she did for Daniel when he was teammates with her big brother, Lando. But, with Oscar, it just felt right.

The way he wore that little, blushy smile once she'd done it. The first time she'd translated Australia for Lando, he'd simply pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head. It had been to shut her up, Oscar not ready to admit that he loved it.

And then, every time since that, Oscar had let her. It was incredible to see the kind of absurd shit she came up with. Her go to's were boomerang and shrimp, but she liked to throw some random ones in there.

But then, the bit started getting old. She'd done it to everybody on the grid, and it was no longer tripping anybody up.

That was when she'd started asking for a response. Hearing the other drivers scramble for a response full of Australian things, it was way more amusing than she'd expected.

But then she started translating what they were saying back to Oscar. It was always some admission of love or somebody insulting him every time.

And, every time Oscar would grin and pull her into his embrace, pressing a kiss to her cheek or the top of her head (never one for much PDA).

It was incredibly fun 'speaking Australian' with Daniel Ricciardo. They'd try and have an actual conversation, with neither of them actually knowing what the other was saying. There had been a mixture of laughs and heated arguments in Australian, with neither of them knowing the subject matter.

But, her favourite time to do it was early in the morning, when Oscar would pull her in and kiss her shoulder before settling back to sleep.

She rolled over and pressed a kiss to his chest. "Osc," she mumbled, and he let out a hum, his eyes still shut. "Shrimp, koala, Hugh Jackman," she whispered and kissed the underside of his jaw.

"Shrimp, koala, Hugh Jackman to you too," he said and squeezed her against him.

Shrimp, koala, Hugh Jackman = I love you in Australian.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x you #op81 #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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theminecraftbee · 1 day

Text

The moon has fully set over the horizon. The howling over the server has stopped. Four Hermits sit in a circle, staring just slightly away from each other, as to not be caught staring. Joe is miserably trying to wring mud out of his puppet. Stress isn't bothering about the mud at all but is despairing at how shredded her jumper is. Somehow, Zedaph has only lost a shoe, which is more concerning than any of the prior people. Xisuma is deliberately not checking himself. The damning lack of helmet on his head, though, means he can't avoid feeling how he underwent the same terrible transformation as everyone else.

"So," he says, finally.

"I could use pants," Joe says, finally giving up on washing out his puppet, and, ah. Yes. Those are pretty well destroyed, aren't they? Xisuma looks away politely, feeling his face heat up. It heats up more when he realizes everyone can see it, gosh, he's–he's not so sure how he feels about that–

"I think we all need pants. Look at us," Stress says, and if Xisuma can be looking away any harder, he sure is now. Wait, she said 'all', does that include... Oh, oh dear.

"Well I don't know about you, but I still have perfectly serviceable pants," Zedaph says imperiously.

"You know, if anything, that's weirder, given the way we were all giant wolves traipsing around in the night just now. Which is strange itself! However, wolves don't normally wear pants, so really, the fact the only article of clothing you've lost is your shoes is less miraculous and more actively impossible!" Joe responds.

"Well you're actively impossible," mutters Zedaph.

"My god, it was real," Xisuma says.

"Well, I mean, I sort of figured it had to be, what with the four of us being all covered in mud and tired and your helmet being gone and all that," Stress says.

"It was real," Xisuma says.

The four of them sit in silence a little longer. The sun continues its steady march upwards into the sky. It's April; the day is longer than the night, by now, so they aren't wasting but so much time compared to the time the moon was up. The time the moon was up feels a bit more like a dream than anything else, too; distantly, Xisuma wonders if this is what spiders feel like when they become angry during the night, or what drives the undead from the ground. It's a disquieting thought, and he'd literally lived in a skeleton!

"So," Joe says. "So. Which one of us is going to yell at Zedaph for biting us?"

"Rude!" Zedaph says. "Very rude, I'm not the one that bit you! You bit me! Xisuma bit me, actually, you all saw him!"

"What? No, I didn't!" Xisuma says. "Gosh, if I were a werewolf, don't you think you'd know by now?"

"Hm. Suspicious," Zedaph says.

"No?" Xisuma says.

"I mean, I'd try to claim it was my fault, what with being a monster and all, but I'm actually a different sort of beastie normally," Stress says. "Being all doggy is new for me. I should show Iskall. Hey, do you think I should bite Iskall?"

"Yes," Zedaph says.

"No," Xisuma says.

"I'll split the difference and say maybe," Joe says. "Also, since we're arguing about it anyway, I'll say that I think I'd remember if I bit someone, although maybe I wouldn't. It's been a weird night. Maybe I should just go ahead and get everyone apology gifts instead?"

"Please don't," Zedaph says.

"Aww, but I like his gifts," Stress says.

"Honestly, yeah, I was–no, Zedaph is right, it'd be too distracting," Xisuma says, thinking of many of the, er, gifts he's gotten from Joe in the past. "Besides, it's not your fault. But if none of us bit anyone, then why on earth are we all werewolves no–oh no."

"That was ominous?" Joe says.

"Oh. Ohhhhhh," Zedaph says. "Whoops."

"It was supposed to be a joke about investment bankers," Xisuma says.

"Wait, what, do you really think the silly name turned us into werewolves?" Stress says.

"I had other season plans, Xisuma!" Joe says.

"Hey, does that make me a sheep in wolf's clothing that's also a wolf that turns into a sheep that turns into a wolf? If so, neat," Zedaph says.

"Do you know how annoying it will be to get a werewolf puppet?" Joe says.

"Gosh, I absolutely have to bite Iskall now," Stress says.

Xisuma, for a moment, considers putting a stop to it. If it really is the silly name, the collective, the hats and the howls–if it really is the collective weight of story bearing down on all of them–then really, it's still so early that it would be very easy to stop.

Xisuma considers the competition the rest of the shopping district poses, and how easy it will be to move as a collective when they're also a pack.

Also, he hasn't actually been a wolf before. That's one mob he hasn't done!

"You should bite Iskall. I want to know what it does," Xisuma says, deciding that he's quite bored with being responsible and that if someone wants to stop it, it will have to be not him. "But, er, first, in the meantime, do you think he or Doc is better to ask for a helmet that'll grow to fit my muzzle instead of nearly trapping my skull?"

"Hm," Stress says. "Well, Iskall is pretty good at head electronics."

"Yeah, but Doc is a better choice for abominations against nature!" Joe says.

"What about me? I like abominations," Zedaph says.

"It's okay, Zedaph, it's just you don't make many helmets, is all," Xisuma says. "We'll run around being abominations of nature, gosh, most full moons together. Is that good enough?"

"Fine," Zedaph says. "I'm bringing the snacks. I have sheep, and I've always wanted to try cannibalism."

"I guess werewolves wouldn't have to worry about prions," Joe says, nodding.

"Well, if you're going to get Doc, I'm going to go bite Iskall. I know I don't got fangs right now but it'll be very funny either way," Stress says.

"Have fun!" Xisuma says, and even though he's still red, and no one has pants but Zedaph, and he feels vaguely sick without his helmet, he also feels something close to pure delight. Gosh. Werewolves, huh? What a concept, having a little pack. He'll have to make the most of it; they've already seen his face anyway, and not one of them have commented or looked him in the eyes. Clearly, it won't matter so much if Doc takes a while with the helmet.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #xisuma #joe hills #zedaph #stressmonster101 #a bee fic #me vibrating at high speeds: WOLVES WOLVES WOLVES WOLVES WOLVES #the fact today is hermit-a-day-may xisuma day is coincidence i'm not doing it (although everyone should!)#but i figure it decent timing anyway

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girlgenius1111 · 1 day

Text

wise beyond her years

sol meets someone, and it's doomed from the start. everyone can see it, except her. ingrid tries to balance being supportive and being... a parent?

based [ish] on the manuscript by taylor swift... mostly the lyrics "afterwards she only ate kids cereal and couldn't sleep unless it was in her mother's bed"

------

You met her at one of Ingrid’s games. Mapi had gone down to the locker room at halftime, and you’d been content to sit in your seat and scroll through your phone until the team made their way back out. That was, until she slid into the seat next to you and introduced herself.

Camila. She was a bit taller than you, the epitome of Spanish beauty. She spoke English with an adorable accent, and when you looked into her eyes for the first time, you were almost speechless. She looked to be a bit older than you. Maybe around Ingrid’s age.

You should have known better. You should have thought about how odd it was that she’d been sitting a few rows up and only came to talk to you when you were alone. How those first few dates she took you on always ended with her getting you to invite her to the next Barça game.

It was so easy for her. You were… healing. That didn't mean that you were healed. Freud would have rolled in his grave at how oblivious you were. Dating an older woman. Only a month or so after a huge fallout with your mother. Letting her talk you into things you weren’t quite sure about. Let her talk her way into your heart, making promises and declarations of love that came much too soon.

She said that she loved you. And it wasn’t that you believed her, not really. You just thought that if you tried hard enough to be perfect, one day she would love you.

------

Ingrid had made her displeasure with Camila known to you from the beginning. She knew exactly what the woman was up to, it was obvious to everyone but you. She was using you because you were an easy target, and you were vulnerable and young and excited that someone was paying attention to you.

You wouldn’t listen to Ingrid, though. Not when she warned you nicely about Camila, or when she warned you much more seriously. You ignored her words completely, dismissed them. And Ingrid didn’t want to fight with you, but she couldn’t hold back her feelings about this woman that had slipped into your life, so poor Mapi bore the brunt of the Norwegian’s rants about how Camila was not good enough for her Solstråle.

This was the case today. You were off with Camila, and Ingrid was going crazy back home. It had been weeks, and this was still going on. The worry and concern your sister had for you was at a high, it was all she could think about. Mapi felt similarly, but she tried to keep her cool because she knew very well that telling you not to date the woman would only make you want to date her more.

“She’s going to get hurt.” Ingrid said.

“She might. That’s how she learns, though, mi amor. We have to let her make her own mistakes.”

“Did you read that in your parenting book?” Ingrid asked with a slight smirk.

Mapi flushed red, avoiding her girlfriend’s gaze. “It is not a parenting book. It is a… helping sad teens book.” She argued.

Ingrid softened. “María, don’t be embarrassed. Getting a book to learn how to help Solstråle better… that is sweet and thoughtful. Just like you.”

Now, Mapi was blushing again, but this time a small smile adorned her features, though worry was still clouding her eyes. “Are you sure it’s okay? I know she’s your sister, and I do not want to overstep.”

Ingrid just shook her head. “No, you are not overstepping. I couldn’t do this without you, María, and I mean that. You balance me out. I was worried, for a while, about being too much like my mother. You’d never let that happen, though, and it’s like a safety net. I don’t need to worry as much about making a mistake because you’re always there to tell me when I’m not doing the right thing. And you don’t have to be, but you are. I don’t thank you enough for that, my love. I don’t tell you enough, how incredible you are, for being so full of love, and so happy to share it with everyone you meet.”

“I love you.” María whispered back. “I love you, and I love mi sol, and I tolerate her dog, but I love our family. Sol is a special kid and… I don’t know. I just want you both to be happy. I want you both to feel loved and worthy of love because you are.”

Ingrid isn’t quite sure how this conversation about your ‘girlfriend’ had led to this incredibly mushy conversation, but she pulled Mapi into her and squeezed tightly. “ Don’t make me cry, Solstråle will be home soon and she’ll make fun of me.”

Mapi laughed loudly, quickly wiping a tear off Ingrid’s cheek as the front door opened, announcing your arrival home. When you walked into the living room, it was to see Mapi and Ingrid curled up together on the couch, which wasn’t an unusual sight. Nor was the way they were looking at each other unusual, either. Like seeing the other person smile could sustain the other for days. Ingrid and Mapi loved each other so deeply, and so easily, it was clear for anyone to see.

You wanted that, you really did. And you thought you had it where you definitely didn’t. You’d have it one day, though. Something told you that.

-------

You weren’t sitting with Mapi at the match today. Camila had wanted it to be a real date, and not be supervised by your sister’s girlfriend, though she still wanted to attend the match. You’d been excited about it, even though you’d spent most of your free time with her in the past couple weeks. Well, excited until she’d disappeared right before kick off to get you both waters, and had been gone for 20 minutes.

You were really just worried that something had happened to slow her down, so you got up when an opposing player went down and headed off in search of her.

You found her pretty easily, leaning against a wall by the bathroom, talking to a girl. A girl that looked to be about your age, that looked just like you in fact. You tried not to jump to conclusions as you froze, watching carefully from a few meters away. It was obvious, though, what was going on. Even more obvious when Camila reached out and tucked a piece of the girl’s hair behind her ear.

It wasn’t immediately clear to you what to do. You knew you should be angry, but really all you felt was hurt. Before Camila could spot you, you headed back to your seat, and when Camila returned a few minutes later, you did what you were used to. You shut down. You answered her questions with shrugs or nods, even when she started to get annoyed that you weren’t speaking.

You wanted to talk to Frido. Not Ingrid or Mapi, because they’d freak out. Mapi would get all weirdly protective and huffy, and Ingrid would just be furious that you hadn’t listened to her. Frido would listen to you, and tell you what to do. You couldn’t get to the Swede, though, not without seeing your sister and her girlfriend. And by the time the final whistle blew, Camila’s anger was simmering under the surface, and she practically dragged you from the stadium. You quickly texted Mapi, telling her you were leaving with Camila, before your girlfriend pushed you into the car and all but slammed the door. You winced at the sound, knowing that you shouldn’t feel guilty for how you were acting. Camila should be the one feeling bad, but you couldn’t help the nagging feeling to just apologize and let it go.

It was like the old version of you and the newer version were fighting. Was this how you deserved to be treated? Had Camila really done anything wrong? Your brain was a mess, and as Camila pulled the car out of the parking spot, and began to drive, you decided that you just needed some space to think.

“Can you take me home?” You asked quietly, looking at your girlfriend out of the corner of your eye. She seemed to relax a bit, now that you’d spoken. Camila didn’t look as angry anymore. Just worried.

“Is everything okay? You’ve gone silent on me.” Camila asked gently. Or, at least, it sounded gentle. She was giving you a kind, concerned smile but there was a look in her eyes that made you kind of uneasy. You ignored it, focusing on the softness, letting yourself be lulled into a false sense of security. You told yourself to be honest, that it was probably just a misunderstanding. That Camila would make you feel better about it, explain it all away. And everything would go back to normal.

“I just… I saw you talking to that girl by the bathroom. It looked kind of cozy.” You said cautiously. The car came upon an intersection, a red light, and Camila came to a stop before she looked over at you. The concern was gone from her face. The softness nowhere to be found. She just looked furious at you.

“Did you follow me to the bathroom for a reason?” She asked venomously.

You shook your head, surprised at the turn this conversation had taken. “No, no, you were gone for a while, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Camila rolled her eyes as the light turned green, looking away from you and at the road. “Sure. I was just saying hi to an old friend. There’s no need to get all jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” You replied, sitting up straighter in your seat, a bit of anger flaring in you. Anger you hadn’t felt in a while, but a feeling that still filled your veins with fire. “I just wanted to know why you were flirting with someone while we were on a date.”

Camila scoffed. “I was not flirting. I told you it was an old friend. I barely talked to her, what are you being so dramatic about?”

“I really don’t think I’m being dramatic. I just asked you a question.” You said, trying to remain calm even as your girlfriend got angrier and angrier next to you.

“No, you acted like a child. Going completely silent and ruining our date? I know you’re young, but I expected you to act like an adult and be more mature than that. It’s honestly embarrassing.”

You felt your cheeks burn, and you chewed on your lip for a minute, trying not to say anything you’d regret. “I asked you a question, and you just keep deflecting. I don’t think I am being the childish one.”

“Is this the mommy issues or something?” Camila asked, a cruel smile playing on her lips. You sat silent for a moment, not completely sure you’d heard her correctly.

“Excuse me?”

“The jealousy, the insecurity? I know your mom fucked you up, but this is ridiculous. We’ve only been together for a few weeks, why are you being so clingy? It’s fucking annoying, and I’ll tell you right now, no one on earth is going to want to put up with this. Especially not from you, it’s not worth it.”

You blinked, completely shocked. You hadn’t expected her to get so angry when you’d been honest about your insecurity and worry. And you hadn’t expected her to throw things that you’d told her in a moment of vulnerability in your face either. “Are you serious?” You asked, voice cracking slightly.

Camila let out a humorless laugh, parking the car in front of the cafe you were supposed to be going to. “Are you going to cry now?” She asked mockingly. “Christ, you really are too young. I don’t want to date someone this immature.”

You stared at her, feeling like you had whiplash from the turn this conversation had taken. It seemed like she was breaking up with you. Which was probably for the best, if this was how she reacted to you bringing up an issue with her. Still, it was like you were seeing a side of her you’d never seen before. Cold. Cruel. She looked completely unbothered as she unlocked the car doors and gave you a pointed look, one that clearly told you that this conversation was over.

She looked unbothered, and you felt your heart shatter as your biggest fear was coming true. You were too much. It had only taken Camila weeks to get tired of you. Hot tears fell down your cheeks, ones you desperately tried to hide. You were sad and embarrassed, but most of all. You just felt so hopeless.

As you got out of the car, without another word said to your now ex-girlfriend, you wondered how you could have been so naive to think that someone would want you. Camila was right. You were too screwed up for anyone to choose you.

You walked right into the cafe, making a beeline for the bathroom. Locking and shutting the door behind you, the last of your resolve broke, and you worked hard to quiet the broken sobs falling from your lips.

Stupid. You’d been so stupid. It wasn’t the first time someone had broken your trust, or said something awful to you. But it was the first time since… things had changed. And somehow, you’d forgotten how much it hurt, feeling unwanted. You had been used to it, before, numb to it. Now, though, it burned sharp in your chest. Shame and sadness and anger and frustration. And still. That persistent feeling of hopelessness. How was anyone ever supposed to want you?

-------

Mapi had a weird feeling when you called. Your text after the match had sounded odd, and you were supposed to be getting coffee with Camila. She didn’t really have any other reason to be worried, but for some reason, she was.

“Maps?” You greeted quietly. You called Mapi on purpose. She worried less than Ingrid, and while she disapproved of Camila, she had been pretending that she didn’t. Mapi was more likely to be willing to come and get you. Ingrid, on the other hand, you assumed would be too angry that you hadn’t listened to her. Too vindicated, and too caught up in being right to comfort you.

“Hey, nena. What’s up?” Mapi asked.

“Can you come get me?” You mumbled, the embarrassment of the situation really hitting you full force.

“Send me your location, I’m on my way.” Mapi replied instantly, and you really appreciated that she didn’t try to get any details out of you, was just focused on getting to you as fast as possible.

“Can you bring Scout?” You asked after a moment’s hesitation, knowing how Mapi felt about bringing the dog in the car with her. The simple question sent another wave of worry through the Spaniard’s body, knowing you really only asked for something you needed when… you really needed it.

“Of course. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?” Mapi asked, rushing to grab her keys, ignoring the questioning look Ingrid was giving her from the couch, having woken up from a nap.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, mi sol. I love you.”

“Love you too.” You whispered, choking back a sob as you hung up.

“What is it? Where is she? Is she okay? Did something happen?” Ingrid asked rapidly, moving to get up from the couch.

“Scout! Ven aqui!” Mapi called, rolling her eyes when the dog appeared instantly, as if he knew the reason for being summoned. “I don’t know, she just asked me to come get her. Don’t get up. Stay here, rest. I’ll get pequeña.”

“But-”

“No buts, princesa. Stay here. I’ve got this covered, we’ll be back soon. Don’t move from this couch, I mean it.” Mapi insisted, never one to take Ingrid’s recovery casually.

Ingrid frowned but sat back down on the couch, watching as her girlfriend and your dog disappeared out the front door, both of them moving like they were on a mission. If there was one thing Mapi could agree with Scout on, it was that you were very important.

-------

When Mapi pulled up in front of the cafe, she saw you sitting with a to-go cup of coffee at a little table, staring at the ground. She parked quickly, finding a spot just around the corner, before she got out to walk over to you, bringing Scout with her. Scout pulled harshly on his leash, and for once, Mapi didn’t mind.

“Solstråle?” Mapi called when she got close enough, seeing your head whip up to look in the direction of your name. In a flash, you were abandoning your coffee and all but launching yourself towards Mapi. The Spaniard didn’t say anything, not quite sure what had happened but able to infer that it wasn’t good.

“Thanks for coming so fast.” You said quietly, feeling just marginally better now that Mapi had pulled you into a tight hug. Scout nudged your leg with his nose rather insistently, until you pulled away from the hug and crouched down to pet him.

“Of course, mi sol. I’ll always come for you. Did something happen?” Mapi asked, never not amazed by the way Scout instantly brought a small smile to your face, even if your eyes were still slightly wet with tears.

“We broke up.” You said simply, though your voice cracked over the last word.

“Oh, nena. I’m so sorry.” Mapi sighed. “Let's get you home, yeah?”

“Okay.” You agreed, although you really weren’t looking forward to it. You wanted to go home, curl up into a ball and cry, by yourself. At the same time, you desperately wanted a hug from your sister. You were just completely convinced that she wouldn’t be willing to do that.

-------

You walked into the house just behind Mapi, trying to take deep, steadying breaths. You were close to breaking down, and you didn’t really need to hear all the reasons that Ingrid had known this would happen. You didn’t need an ‘I told you so.’

Your sister was waiting for you in the entrance hall, pacing nervously, when you walked in.

“Solstråle! What happened? Are you okay?” Ingrid asked as soon as you were through the door, ignoring Mapi’s look that was clearly telling her to be cool.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. I want to be alone.” You said, pushing past her to head for the stairs. You heard Ingrid begin to go after you, but Mapi stopped her, telling her to give you a minute.

-------

You collapsed onto your bed, Scout jumping up next to you like he thought it was a game. You just wished it would just swallow you up. It was only a few minutes later that you heard footsteps approaching your door, like you knew they would. A soft knock on your door interrupted your crying, and you hastily wiped at your eyes. “Yeah?”

Ingrid peaked her head in. “I know you said you want to be alone, but I just wanted to check…” she said, trailing off when she saw you valiantly fighting your tears.

“I’m okay.” You mumbled, focusing on petting Scout, as opposed to looking at your sister.

“Honey, you aren’t.” Ingrid sighed, moving in closer to take a seat on the edge of your bed. “You’re upset, that’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

“Well, I am. You were right. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You asked bitingly, not really intending to snap so harshly at your sister, but not quite sure you felt like you could trust her at the moment.

“No, sweetheart, that is not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to be wrong about her, solstråle, more than anything. I am so sorry things didn’t end well.”

“You aren’t glad that you’re right?” You asked, astonished. It didn't really make sense to you; all of this could have been avoided if you’d just listened to your sister. How could she be sorry for you when you’d blatantly ignored her advice?

Ingrid shook her head, her face painfully full of pity and sympathy. “No, not if it means that you’re hurting.”

“Oh.” You weren’t quite sure what to do with that. You’d been prepared to deal with this yourself. To be completely honest, you didn’t really feel like you deserved Ingrid’s support. You’d been so stupid not to listen to her. This was all your fault, really, and Ingrid shouldn’t have to deal with implications of something that was ultimately your mistake. “I’m sorry, I should have listened.” You said quietly, looking down, refusing to make eye contact with your sister.

“Don’t be sorry, solstråle.” Ingrid sighed. You looked so distraught, but you were leaning slightly away from your sister, like you were afraid to accept any comfort from her. Like suddenly, you weren’t sure you trusted her anymore. And though that hurt, Ingrid really couldn’t blame you. Not when the universe seemed so dead set on making you miserable. “What can I do?”

“I just want to be alone.” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself, completely invalidating your statement.

“No, you don’t. Look at me.” Ingrid instructed, waiting until you raised your head to look at her, very cautiously. “You’re allowed to be sad about this. No matter what happened, no matter what I said about her before. I never want to see you hurting. You don’t have to deal with this alone just because you made a mistake. Okay?”

You held your sister’s gaze for a few moments, before you slowly nodded your head. “I really liked her.” You whispered after a minute, leaning almost imperceptibly towards your sister.

“I know. Come here, honey,” Ingrid said, opening her arms for you to all but collapse into them. It was familiar, at this point, being held tightly in Ingrid’s arms. It never failed to make you feel better. And while Ingrid wished that things would just be easier for you, a very critical part of herself settled when you relaxed against her. The brunette was never quite sure she was doing a good enough job with you, but when you went to her when you were upset, allowed her to help you, even if it was rather hesitantly, it felt reassuring to her. It wasn’t full trust, but you were getting there. She must be doing something right if you were making progress.

“What would make you feel better?” Ingrid asked after a minute, smiling to herself at how Scout had settled himself with half his upper body draped across your legs.

“Nothing.” You replied pathetically. It wasn’t the first relationship you’d had, but it felt so much more significant than any of the others had. In just a few weeks, Camila had made herself one of the most important things in your life. You weren’t really sure how she managed it, but somehow, she’d gotten you to confess things you’d told very few people, learned more about you than many people did. And as soon as things had started to not go her way, she’d used all those things against you. It was the first time in a while that you’d really let yourself be fully vulnerable with someone, and it had backfired so horrifically. You were hurt, and you were embarrassed, but most of all, you were just sad.

You thought this was going to be a turning point for you, but you didn’t realize you’d given Camila all of the ammunition she’d needed to make sure it was the biggest setback you’d face. Not until you were lying in your bed, wanting nothing more than to disappear. You’d been nothing to her. That was a familiar feeling, something that made every cell in your body squirm with anxiety. It was happening again.

“What are you thinking?” Ingrid asked, interrupting your rapid stream of thoughts.

“Is it me? Do I just… make people want to treat me badly?” You asked. It wasn’t the first time you’d considered it, but that particular fear had been dormant since everything had happened in the last few weeks. Since Ingrid and Mapi had made it clear that they wanted you here with them. It was confusing and completely contradictory, your brain couldn’t really make sense of it. Your sister and her girlfriend must just be the exception.

“No.” Ingrid said firmly. “No. It isn’t you. You just have… bad luck. You make me and Mapi want to be better, Solstråle. Better for you, so that we can take care of you in the way that you deserve. You are good, Solstråle, and you deserve good, even when you don’t feel like it.”

For some reason, Ingrid’s words brought tears to your eyes. Good tears. “Well, I can’t have all bad luck. I get to be here with you two, and I don’t know if I would still be…” you trailed off, trying to figure out what you wanted to say. “You both saved my life, I think. The two of you wanting me here, and taking me in, that’s good luck.” You managed, sitting up and shifting so you were facing your sister, who looked one word away from bursting into tears herself.

“It’s not good luck, mi sol. It’s what you deserve. It’s what you should have had this whole time.” Mapi chimed in from the doorway, looking fondly at the two of you. Ingrid smiled at her in thanks, humming quietly in agreement with her girlfriend’s statement. The Spaniard wandered in closer, flopping onto the free space on your bed, causing a disgruntled Scout to shift, kicking Mapi lightly in the side. “That girl did not deserve you. And you’ll find someone who wants to treat you the way you deserve. You just can’t rush stuff like that, sí? It will come to you when it does.”

It was potentially the most frustrating advice to receive, but it made you feel better nonetheless.

“And she was kind of ugly.” Mapi said as an afterthought.

“Mapi!” You laughed, smiling a real smile. Both girls’ faces lit up at the sight of the smile on your face, and both of them were desperate for you to keep smiling, for your face not to fall into the sad frown it had been in for the past hour. The conversation lulled, and Ingrid’s mind raced, trying to think of what people liked to do after breakups. She’d been with Mapi for so long, she wasn’t sure she remembered.

“Do you want to lay in bed alone for the rest of your night, or do you want to watch a movie? Or we could go get ice cream. Or we could go shopping. Or on a run. Or-” Ingrid listed, only stopping when you cut her off.

“Sister movie night sounds good.” You said softly, unable to express in that moment how much you appreciated how hard she was trying. You knew ingrid probably wanted to talk, to hear everything that had happened, but she was learning to respect that you really only liked to talk when you felt like it. Which wasn’t often.

“Sister movie night, cool.” Ingrid said, trying to act like she wasn’t thrilled that you’d decided to be with her instead of requesting to be alone. “Go pick a movie, I’ll make popcorn.”

You all dragged yourselves off your soft comforter, having grown rather comfortable, and headed for your bedroom door.

“I’ll be in the garage.” Mapi said, smiling at both of you as she tried to wordlessly communicate that she knew you both wanted sister time, and it was okay that it didn’t include her. Both you and Ingrid froze, though, turning slightly to stare at her like she’d said something absurd.

“Don’t be stupid.” You said, rolling your eyes. “‘Sister movie night’ obviously means ‘sister and her live-in girlfriend’ movie night.”

Mapi looked a bit surprised, though she shouldn’t have been. There were very few times that you just wanted to be with Ingrid, and those times were becoming less and less frequent as you began to depend on Mapi more and more. “You want me to watch with you?”

“Sí.” You said, almost exasperated. “Why wouldn’t I want you to hangout with us?”

“I just thought it was Engen sister time…” Mapi trailed off, looking uncharacteristically insecure.

“Engen León family time.” Ingrid amended, looking at you for approval. You nodded.

“Who else is going to talk the entire length of the film?” You asked, smirking and sprinting off down the stairs when Mapi gave you an offended look, Scout hot on your heels.

------

The movie had been a good distraction, not that Mapi or Ingrid really paid much attention to it. Instead, they kept glancing over at where you were curled up on the couch. Scout had taken his place next to you, one of his legs stretching out every now and then to kick in Mapi’s direction.

The conversation with them had obviously made you feel better, but they were still rather uneasy. You were acting completely normally, all of a sudden. And they didn’t buy it, not for a second. They weren’t sure what had happened, because you hadn’t said, but they knew that it wasn’t good. You’d been infatuated with Camila, and now you were reluctant to speak her name. Whatever had gone on had hurt you, deeply, but in the span of a few hours, you were acting like you were completely fine.

To you, it just felt like there was no use in thinking about it anymore. Crying over what happened, being sad or angry with Camila wouldn’t help you. It wouldn’t make you feel better. You’d very logically taken stock of your emotions, before deciding that they were completely useless. You were fine.

Well, maybe not, but you would be fine. Especially if you acted like nothing was wrong. Like you weren’t questioning every choice you’d made with Camila. Like you didn’t hate yourself. Emotions only had power if you gave it to them, you decided. Before, you might have been angry. Now, though, you just… forced it all off, far away. No feeling anything until it hurt less to think about what had happened.

It seemed like a good plan to you, and you stuck to it. Even when you couldn’t fall asleep that night, your mind swirling with horrible thoughts as you tried to push them away. Eventually, you gave up, putting on a show and forcing yourself to focus on that, instead.

It was obvious that you hadn’t slept the next morning, walking down to the kitchen like a zombie. Ingrid and Mapi were hoping you’d be a little more forthcoming with what had occurred today, but all hopes of that went out the window when you avoided eye contact with them, a hood pulled over your head, dark bags under your eyes. At least you there was no school, as you had the day off, but they had training, training they couldn’t miss. Neither of them felt very good about leaving you home alone, with no idea what was going on in your head.

You were blankly shoveling cereal into your mouth when Ingrid got your attention.

“Solstråle!” She said rather loudly. You jumped slightly, looking across the table at her in confusion. “I said your name 5 times. Did you not hear me?”

Ingrid didn’t sound mad, just worried, and you felt your throat tighten.

No. No. No tears. No sadness. That wouldn’t help. Self pity wouldn’t help. The only thing to do was to move forward.

“Sorry. I’m just tired. Had coffee too late yesterday, couldn't sleep.” You mumbled, turning your attention back to the ceramic bowl in front of you. Your thoughts wandered, briefly, to the fact that since you’d moved in, there hadn’t been a single day where there wasn’t a box of your favorite cereal in the pantry. You really must have been feeling the complete lack of sleep, because that thought alone almost had you tearing up.

“Come to training today. María is out on the grass, again, you can watch.” Ingrid suggested softly.

You shook your head though, swallowing the lump in your throat. You didn’t want to be far from them, but you also knew that if they kept being so nice to you, you weren’t going to be able to keep it together.

“I’m really tired, I just want to stay here.” You replied. Ingrid looked like she wanted to argue, but Mapi nodded from where she stood at the fridge, filling her water.

“That’s okay. Stay here, have a chill day. We’ll be back after lunch.” She walked over to you, squeezing your shoulder kindly. The Spaniard said goodbye, before exiting the kitchen. Ingrid hung back, not really caring at all that she might make them late.

Your sister stood from her spot at the table, and you mumbled a quiet goodbye, only looking up when she came to stand right next to you. Her hand pulled your hood down, her fingers tilting your chin up to look at her. Her face was pinched with concern, and you felt a pang of guilt that you were doing this again. Making them worry about you.

“Try to sleep or something? You looked exhausted, sweetheart. No runs or hikes or climbs, please. Just stay here?” Ingrid asked, making sure to frame her request as a question, and not a command.

“Okay.” You agreed, far too tired to even think about any of those things. You knew Ingrid just wanted you to stay where she knew you were, which was fine. You were honestly just surprised she hadn’t dragged you to training with her.

She lightly patted your cheek, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Be good. I love you.”

“Love you too. Play safe.”

You were wide awake, completely wired. Even as everything inside of you told you that you should be tired, you felt like you might never sleep again. You kept your promise to your sister, though, collapsing onto the couch and putting a show on. Scout came to lay with you, falling asleep easily in your lap. You were jealous of your dog, you realized. It was an amusing thought, but all you felt was… Empty. Nothing. Because if you let yourself laugh, you were sure it would turn into sobs, and you couldn’t do that.

You just had to be strong.

-------

You got into bed early that night, hoping that the added time laying down would help you fall asleep. You were so exhausted, truly, but as you laid in bed at 8pm, you knew instinctively that you wouldn’t be able to sleep again. Everytime you drifted off, your thoughts drifted too, and you’d jerk awake, struck with a reminder of what Camila had said. Her words were haunting you. Everytime you closed your eyes, you could see the sneer on her face as she spoke, and hear the cruel words she’d spoken.

You were beginning to think she was right about you. How were you so screwed up after a relationship ended that had only lasted a few weeks to begin with? You thought you loved her, yes, but you were being dramatic. You shouldn’t be this devastated, and in your head, this only reinforced that idea that Camila had been right. You were too immature. You were too messed up. No one was ever going to want to deal with you.

A soft knock on your door dragged you out of your thoughts, thankfully.

“Come in,” you called. Mapi pushed the door open, taking in the rather unnaturally clean room around her. You’d gone crazy cleaning the night before, putting away all the clothes strewn across the floor. It was neat and clutter free in there now, and Mapi’s heart melted at the sight of the framed photo on your nightstand. It was of the three of you, a candid that Frido had taken after a match. It was little things like this that made Mapi deeply happy, and deeply sad all at once. For six months you’d lived here, and they’d given you the space they thought you needed. It was so far from what you actually needed, though, and Mapi couldn’t help the guilt that filled her at the thought. All she and Ingrid could do now, though, was do better.

So, she entered your room, holding out a mug towards you. It was the one she’d picked out at Ikea, the one with the map and the sun. You knew for a fact that you’d used it this morning for your coffee, which meant Mapi must have pulled it out of the dishwasher and hand washed it herself, so she could bring it up to you.

“I made you tea.” She said, taking a seat on the edge of your bed as you grabbed the mug from her.

“Did you think caffeine would help me sleep?” You asked skeptically.

She rolled her eyes. “No, idiota, it is sleepytime tea. There’s no caffeine.”

You took a cautious sip, smiling a bit when you liked the taste.

“My mami always made it for me when I couldn’t sleep.” Mapi said quietly. “Thought it might help tonight since you decided to become nocturnal yesterday.”

Ingrid and Mapi really toed the line of parent vs. sister / guardian. It was often a sisterly relationship, you thought, with both of them. When you would tease each other, or argue about borrowing their clothes. Other times, it felt completely parent-y. When they’d make you go to bed early, or annoy you about studying for a test.

This situation definitely fell into the latter category, and you found that you minded it less and less.

“It’s good.” You told her, taking another sip. “And I didn’t decide to become nocturnal. It just kind of happened.”

Mapi hummed, looking around the room again. You just had the string lights above your bed on, the room lit also by the soft glow of the TV, as your favorite sitcom played. You’d lit a candle, and you were bundled up under the covers of your bed, clearly trying hard to be comfortable. Clearly trying very hard to sleep.

You looked so tired, it made her heart ache, and she knew Ingrid felt the same. Ingrid, who Mapi was absolutely sure was hovering outside the door, not wanting to overwhelm you. You seemed… fragile. Like you were one step away from breaking at any given moment, and neither of them wanted that to happen before you were ready. Ingrid was just as worried about you, though, and she’d only agreed not to go in if Mapi promised to make you promise something.

“Can you promise to wake us up tonight if you can’t sleep?” Mapi said finally, looking intently at you.

With a sigh, you shrugged. “What good would that do?”

“You wouldn’t have to be alone.” Mapi said simply, watching as a flicker of emotion flashed across your face. You didn’t have to be alone anymore. Sometimes you forgot. “If you don’t promise, Ingrid is probably going to come in here every hour or something and check on you.”

With a roll of your eyes, and a big sigh that you didn’t really mean, you nodded. “Fine.”

“Good.” Mapi grinned. “Goodnight, mi sol. Te quiero.”

“Goodnight.” You replied. “Tell Ingrid in the hall goodnight too.”

The Spaniard chuckled. “I will. Sleep tight.”

With that, she leaned down, pressing a kiss onto your forehead, before she slipped out of the room. Hushed whispers came from the hall and you smiled to yourself, just a bit. Ingrid was such a weirdo sometimes.

-------

It was around 2am when you broke. You’d tried everything you could think of to fall asleep, and nothing had worked. Worse, the lack of sleep was really getting to you and you were feeling ridiculously emotional. When you promised Mapi you’d wake them up if you couldn’t sleep again, you hadn’t meant it. Now, though, as you lay awake in your bed, tears threatening to fall, you really didn’t want to be alone. You weren’t sure how they could help, or even if you wanted help, but you knew that the indisputably healthy choice to make here would be to go to them. And you were trying to be better for yourself.

Even as Camila’s words rattled around in your head, and you were half convinced you were an awful person, about to become even worse by waking Ingrid and Mapi up, you got up from your bed, and walked down the hall.

There were a lot of notable moments in your time in Spain. A lot of them consisted of long, emotional talks with Ingrid and Mapi. And you knew that this was likely what you were headed for. It was naive to think you could hold everything that had happened in, keep it all to yourself. Especially when you’d kind of gotten used to sharing things with them, as horrifying as that thought was. You weren’t nervous, like usual, though. You just wanted them to tell you that everything she’d said was wrong.

Scout followed you down the hall, slightly annoyed that you’d woken him up when you got up. He liked to sleep with some part of him touching you, so it was inevitable that when you woke, Scout did too. Your sister’s bedroom door was open, and you peeked in, half second guessing yourself. Both of them were asleep. It was a cool night, by Barcelona’s standards, which was obvious by Mapi’s sweatshirt and sweatpants that she’d worn to bed, as well as the extra blanket pulled over her. Ingrid, on the other hand, had kicked the comforter off of her, sleeping in just a tshirt and shorts. They were laying facing each other, their hands tangled together, like they’d fallen asleep talking.

They were sleeping. They’d had a long week. They had training the following day. You shouldn’t wake them. They looked comfortable and peaceful, and you shouldn’t ruin that. You turned to go back to your room, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying at how utterly alone you suddenly felt.

You were sure you hadn’t made any noise, but still, a whispered voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Solstråle?” Ingrid asked quietly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, go back to sleep.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady. It evidently didn’t work, because not a second later, Ingrid was flicking the lamp on, looking at you with a sympathetic expression on her face. Next to your sister, her girlfriend huffed in annoyance, still practically asleep, pulling the covers up and over her head. Ingrid rolled her eyes, before fixing her attention back on you.

“Come here.” Ingrid instructed, gesturing you closer to the bed. You walked over, feeling ridiculously like a small child waking their parents up after a bad dream. “You can’t sleep?”

“No.” You said miserably, roughly wiping away a stray tear.

“How can I help? Do you want to talk?” She asked worriedly, brutally kicking Mapi in the shin as she did so, thinking that her girlfriend would be somewhat helpful in this situation, even if she was half asleep. The Spaniard grumbled unhappily, but emerged from under the covers just as you responded.

“I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking about her.” You whispered, truly not confident that anything could make you feel better in that moment.

Mapi sat up, patting the middle of the bed invitingly. It was a king, and there was plenty of room, but you looked between her and Ingrid skeptically.

“I’m not a child.” You said a bit harshly, thinking of Camila calling you immature. If only she could see you now.

“We know. You just broke up with your girlfriend, though, and you haven’t slept in over a day. You are sad and exhausted, and it isn’t childish to need help.” Mapi said kindly, very dramatically scooching over so there was more room for you.

You floundered for a minute, not quite sure what to do. You were an adult. An adult. And Ingrid and Mapi were not your parents. The appeal was there, though, to climb into the bed and tell them everything. To let yourself break when you knew they’d keep track of all the pieces, and put you back together. “Can I have more tea?” You blurted out, looking at Mapi. You weren’t really sure where that came from, but she nodded enthusiastically, rising from the bed, practically taking off for the kitchen in a sprint.

“I’ll go make some!”

You turned back to Ingrid, chewing aggressively on your lip. She rolled her eyes at you, teasingly, before she pointendly looked between you and the bed.

“Get in the damn bed.” Ingrid sighed. It was easier, when she was telling you exactly what to do, because you didn’t have to worry about picking the wrong answer. You settled on the bed, right in the middle, and Ingrid threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to lean your head on her shoulder.

“Ingrid?” You said after a minute, so quietly, your sister almost missed it.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think I’m immature?” You asked.

Ingrid thought for a moment. “No. I think you’ve had to grow up really fast, and you’ve had to make a lot of big adjustments. You are more mature because of all of that. Why?”

You knew she would hate what you were going to say. “Camila said I was.”

Ingrid grew tense next to you. “That’s because she was a 26 year old woman dating an 18 year old. What was she fucking expecting?” Ingrid said venomously.

Mapi walked back into the room, taking care to be quiet, as it looked like you were deep in thought. She placed the mug of tea on her nightstand before she sat on the bed next to you, turning so she could see your face.

“Did she say anything else?” Ingrid asked cautiously.

You opened your mouth to tell her that, no, Camila hadn’t said anything else. Instead, words flowed out of your mouth that you hadn’t decided to say, but you were unable to contain them. “She called me jealous and immature. She said the ‘mommy issues’ were really obvious, that I was insecure and clingy, and that I wasn’t worth it. That no one would want to put up with me.”

You said it so forlornly, so resigned to what this awful woman had told you, Ingrid felt an anger she’d never experienced before rise within her. Neither she nor Mapi knew what to say right away, collecting their thoughts. You broke the silence again, though, after only a few seconds.

“I think she’s right.” You said, your voice breaking clearly. You pressed your hands to your face, body shaking with silent sobs.

“No, mi sol, no,” Mapi said softly, scooting closer to rest a hand on your knee.

Ingrid took a breath, trying to swallow her anger, rubbing your arm with her hand comfortingly. “Solstråle, you are none of those things. That awful woman has no idea who you are, not really. You are not immature, you are 18. There is a huge difference. And you are so much more than what happened with mom. You are so many good things despite mom, sweetheart, and Camila doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She just wanted to hurt you, none of that is true.” Ingrid said insistently.

“Why would she want to hurt me? I thought she liked me. I don’t understand.” You replied, still keeping your face hidden away in your hands.

“Because she isn’t a good person, and she doesn’t deserve you. And you don’t understand because you are good, mi sol. So good.”

“Then why do such horrible things keep happening?” You asked, voice raised slightly in frustration. You pulled your hands away from your face, looking between your sister and her girlfriend with a tearstained, bewildered face. “I’m trying to be good, I’m trying so hard, why is this so hard?”

Both girls felt their hearts break a little at your words. Ingrid wrapped both her arms around you, pulling you into her chest as you cried. “I know, Solstråle, it’s not fair. It’s going to get better. I promise you, it is.”

“I’m tired of everything being so hard.” You cried, shutting your eyes tightly as you spoke. You felt a soft hand brushing your hair away from your forehead, felt Ingrid leave a kiss on your forehead. “I’m tired.”

You meant it figuratively, and literally, and Mapi and Ingrid knew that very well. The best thing they could do for you now, would be to get you calm enough to sleep. It was happening without them trying very hard, honestly. You could barely keep your eyes open, even as soft sobs fell from your mouth.

“It’s not going to be hard forever. I promise you, mi sol.” Mapi said, looking intently at you, though you didn’t look back at her.

“I’m so tired.” You repeated, barely making sense. You were almost delirious with exhaustion, your emotional outburst only making it worse.

“Sleep, solstråle. We are right here. Everything will feel better in the morning. You aren’t going to feel like this forever. Just relax, and sleep. We love you so much.”

And even as you nodded, all the fight and worry of being too much for them flooding from your body, you wondered if they were right. If everything would feel better.

If anyone would ever really want you.

You drifted off ridiculously easily, curled up next to your sister, your brain going quiet for the first time in days. Once Ingrid was sure you were asleep, she turned to her girlfriend, who was tucking the blankets around you nice and tight.

“I am going to kill that girl.” Ingrid murmured, feeling absurdly protective over you.

“I will kill her first.” Mapi vowed.

“She isn’t allowed to date again until she’s 50.” Ingrid said, a frown etched on her face.

Mapi cracked a smile. “Good luck with that, mi amor.”

Ingrid shook her head. “I can’t stand to see her like this.”

The Spaniard turned serious again, nodding her agreement. “It’s gonna get better, Ingrid. It’s not going to be perfect, but she’s already better. She just needs time.”

“I wish I could take it from her, so she could just be happy all the time.” Ingrid admitted, flicking the lamp off, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I do too.” Mapi whispered back. She and Ingrid looked at each other over your slumbering form, each seeing their exact feelings reflected in the other’s face, even with their features obscured by darkness. They just wanted things to be better for you. Easier and lighter and happier. They’d do anything, get you the moon if you wanted it. They didn’t consider if they were giving you all they could, that maybe you needed something else. They just promised themselves that they wouldn’t rest until you were happier, whatever it took. Whatever it took for you, because you were their sol, and nothing on earth was more important to them than your happiness.

-------

my name is girlgenius1111 and i like to make my fictional kid suffer give me all your thoughts on this installment of sol ☀️

#woso imagine #woso x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #🍓☀️#woso one shot #woso fanfics

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toruslvt · 13 hours

Text

⋆ LACTATION KINK ft. Sukuna, Toji, Satoru

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 cw. f!reader, praising, nipple play, hand jobs ( s.g ), unprotected sex ( t.f ), reader is pregnant, mentions of breeding.

NAVI ⁞ EVENT MASTERLIST

“who could have thought the brat growing inside you came with perks” is what Sukuna mumbles, a lazy smile spreading through his lips as he leans down once again, fervently suckling on your swollen nipples and greedily swallowing the milk that’s supposedly for your unborn baby.

the first time Sukuna noticed the damp spot in your shirt, he didn’t even give you a moment to think before he’s carrying and dropping you in bed, hands eagerly ripping open the fabric, “what is that?”

you sigh, rubbing your forehead, “i’m lactating, Sukuna”

and he is not a stupid man in the slightest, but he never expected the sight of your pretty nipples, all swollen and dribbling white-ish, creamy drops of milk could have his cock twitching so fast.

he’s not giving you a break after that, “tell your pretty tits to stop being so shy” Sukuna murmurs hoarsely, pinching on your nipples for the flow of milk to continue. you’re probably sucked dry at this point, his tongue lazily wrapping around the bud before sucking again, cozily laying between your thighs. the pink haired is so greedy, wishing to have you all for himself, “mmm, that’s perfect, good girl” his voice comes as a groan once the sweetness of your milk comes to coat his taste buds.

“we’re having more babies after this one.” he promises with hooded eyes that barely flick up to meet yours before diving in again.

“too heavy, babydoll?” Toji almost purrs, weighing your soft and swollen tits on the palm of his hand, he knows it hurts, stretching every couple days to get plump and full of milk, but your lover is more than ready to provide the relief you so desperately crave.

you can only whimper and nod, making Toji’s smirk widen “aw, I know, baby, I know, i got you” he coos now, gently massaging your sore tits, pressing the calloused tip of his thumb under the soft skin and sliding up, easing the tension before leaning down to suckle on the bud, a loud groan rumbling on your skin at the taste, his hips unconscious bucking down into your heat, “you look so gorgeous, all full of milk and my cock”

your sore body is just too sensitive you can’t help and continuously cream Toji’s cock, the prominent, pulsing vein rubbing against your g-spot mixed with the sensation of his lips on your nipples and hands caressing the swollen flesh drives you mad, “don’t s-stop” you barely croak, thighs shaking and laying flat with your lover’s body towering above yours.

he groans, “no need to tell me twice” and he’s sucking and lapping again, much similar to what he’d do with your clit, drinking in your taste and creamy milk on his tongue, each suck forcing his hips to move faster, pistoning into your cunt, you turn him on so much it’s kinda embarrassing how quick Toji desperately needs to cum and breed you a bit more, “fuck, baby...” a murmur laced with a groan, “need to keep you full for the rest of your life”

how’s my baby?

and you know he’s not speaking about the baby, but you.

sore :(

you text back, and that’s all he needs to flee from his job, because to Satoru there is not a better way to end his day then laying in the soft, plush and warm mattress of your shared bed. the window is slightly open, letting in a gentle breeze that swirls the curtain around, you’re sitting on his lap, his hands on your tits, mouth on your nipples and your hand stroking his cock.

Satoru is too eager, almost as if he’s making out with your nipples, cupping both tits in his large hands and switching between them, sucking on one while the other gets pinched by his fingers, “why do you taste so fuckin’ good?” it’s not really a question, or at least he doesn’t care, every single second away from your sweet milk is like torture, “can’t get enough of these gorgeous tits of yours, fuck...! it’s so sweet” he constantly rambles, barely audible through the sound of his slurping and the squelch of your hand on his cock, drooling so much precum it feels like he’ll cum on the spot.

and you’re gushing too much slick too, lazily humping on Satoru’s thigh, but don’t worry, he’ll fuck you nice and good, perhaps you can ride his cock and make your tits jiggle right on his face.

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kandavers · 2 days

Note

Thoughts on lucifer/lilith/alastor or lucifer/lilith/eve in poly relationships? :D

Heh. (smug face) Do I have the ramble for you

It's too long so I'll add a "keep reading" LOL

note: These are all IN MY HEAD, so welcome to my headspace! Feel free to have differing opinions! While I do stand on my opinions, I'd change them sometimes if I find other, more banger ones LOL

anyways,

Lilith (demiromantic bisexual, lean female)

Lilith is in a romantic relationship with Lucifer. Due to the demiromantic part, she doesn't have romantic attraction towards Rosie (yet), and I also think she had harboured romantic feelings towards Eve (however, I'm not very ready to unpack their relationships with Adam and Eve yet LOL, we'll save that for another time). I also read BIBLE LORE for this (help me), and it said that Lilith, in the past, had refused to be under Adam during intercourse, because she believed that she was his equal. Instead of being under him, she wanted to be on top for once, and this counted as 'disobeying Adam' which caused her to get exiled from Eden (?). There's more to this story that I'd rather not get into because it unfortunately paints Lilith in a horrible light (which is probably untrue, you know how the bible is with female figures who want rights-) but yeah! Relating to that, it would explain Lilith's preferrance for women, and also why she would definitely really dislike Alastor. However, Alastor makes Lucifer very happy, so she tolerates him for the sake of her husband.

And if you're wondering "if she dislikes men, why is she married to Lucifer?", think of it like this:

Adam would say, "Go make me a sandwich."

Lucifer would say, "Would you like me to make you a sandwich, my darling?"

Lucifer views her as his equal, if not someone of a higher position than himself. The king moves the pawn, but it's the Queen who rules the board, as they say.

Lucifer (panromantic demisexual)

He's deeply, utterly in love with Lilith, no matter what. In my head, I also thought of "loving styles" for these characters, but I have a more elaborate idea for Lucifer due to the fact that I'm biased LMAOOO- and I strongly believe that his loving style is Worship. It means once he's in love with someone, he devotes his entrie being to them. The 'them' in question is Lilith. Anything she wants, she'll have, anything she says, goes. He'd let the whole world burn for her.

Also he's kind of autistic and Lilith is his special interest but that's besides the point. Service husband.

Anyways, he's also in a queerplatonic relationship with Alastor. How this is possible is a little bit beyond me (I'm too lazy to think about it) but again, explaining what a QPR is, they're close friends who do things that are outside of society's norms for friendships. Like kiss on the lips or sleep with one another. They don't have romantic nor sexual attraction to one another, but they're free to do anything romantic or sexual to each other (with consent!!!) as they please. In my head, the main reason they're connected to each other is how they're almost on the same level, intelligence and power-wise, so they keep one another on their toes with the competition. It's about their thoughts, their conversations, their RIVALRY !!! Playful jabs, snarky remarks, barks and bites, you name it. But at they end of the day, they deeply care for one another. (Whether or not Alastor is with Lucifer for ulterior reasons depends on whether or not I'm having a good day that day /j)

And I think Lucifer and Rosie would be best friends. No kissing or sex involved since Rosie clearly likes his WIFE !!! BAHAHA- And Lucifer is totally cool with it, since he would want Lilith to be happy. He was cool with it when Eve was in the equation too (but this will be unpacked another day). They sometimes hang out on their own time, and exchange gossip about Alastor mainly. Rosie is very friendshaped I think Lucifer would be very comfortable around her.

Alastor (Aromantic Asexual)

First of all I think he would be intimidated by Lilith. In general, he respects women very much, but I also agree on the theory that the person who has Alastor on a leash is Lilith herself LMAO- She's a bit like him, tall, intimidating, charming, has a way with words, but BETTER. The only difference is probably the fact that she doesn't have to use violence to get her way (she probably makes Lucifer do it LOL), which makes her far more classy and elegant compared to every other Demon in Hell, and there is no way Alastor could compete with that.

Does he feel inferior to Lilith? Maybe.

And does he feel guilt when he's seeing Lucifer because of her? Also maybe. I'd like to think all of them are genuine in their relationship though, but if you're into the angst stuff, feel free to interpret it otherwise (I'm too lazy to come up with conflict ideas).

His relationship with Lucifer is pretty much Explained in the Lucifer section, but I'd like to add the fact that Alastor is a sex-positive asexual, which means whenever Lucifer is in the mood, he'd be down to indulge him sometimes. Also I'm well aware of his manipulative nature, and in the canon series, this whole relationship might as well be a plot to take over Hell in some way, but... out of all the smiles he's shown other people, the ones with Lucifer are most genuine :)

Rosie. Oh, don't even get me started on her. He loves her to the moon and back. She's his best friend in the world, whether it was when he was alive or in Hell. They kiss each other, yes, and they're comfortable enough to do other intimate things, but as for the question of whether or not they're sleep /sx with one another? No, and never. One is a lesbian, and both are asexual. Outside of Alastor's life as an overlord and Lucifer's partner, he's Rosie's partner, and they do things such as hunt people for sport and eat them.

Rosie (Lesbian Asexual)

Fell in love with Lilith the moment she laid eyes on her. This relationship isn't reciprocated (yet). I think Rosie's also a disaster lesbian and chokes up whenever she gets the chance to talk to Lilith. Would happily spend a lot of time with her, though. Lilith does most of the talking, understandably. I think Rosie is also a service ace. I just learnt about this term lately, feel free to look it up hehe

She has a very good relationship with Lucifer. Nothing much to say that I haven't said already. I need to explore their relationship more.

Alastor's her other half. He means as much to her as she does to him. She trusts and respects him, and would defend him with her life if it comes down to it. She also sees him as 'one of the girls', so they'd often find themselves at parties where he's the only dude there LMAO-

I'd have more to say about her if I haven't elaborated for paragraphs about her for Lilith, Lucifer and Alastor already, so yeah !

#radioapple #lucilith #radiorose #rosilith #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel rosie #kanrambles #ask #aromantic #asexual #lesbian #demisexual #demiromantic #bisexual #lgbtq

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 2 days

Note

Simon Riley lets out a high-pitched squeal when you shower with him first time because the water is too goddamn hot. (but it’s the best temperature for you).

LOL YES YES YES THIS IS SO TRUE!! Idk why but I also have a hc that he prolly jumped a bit to avoid the hot splash because in his military life he's used to shower in cold ass water, and rarely has time to adjust the temperature since he showered in rush (3 minutes shower). His skin might be a little pink or red after warm (hot) shower. Please just give this man lukewarm bath with rubber duck, shark and starfish, a gentle scalp massage would be a help too and trust me 100% he's addicted to it

yes he deserves a nice bath 😈 ty for the ideas!! this is just some little scenes I think will happen :D!

Simon*Reader, silly couple

btw anon’s talking about this post

Shower with Simon Riley

You finally convince Simon to shower with you the first time (not that he doesn’t want it, he’s just not familiar with these intimate couple things, give that man some time to build his courage).

You throw your clothes aside without any bit of shyness, and step behind the shower curtain, turning on the water and waiting for Simon to come in.

You can’t help but salivate at the man’s figure, and he seems to notice your gaze, his ego must thrive to sky-high in mere seconds.

Until you rinse the water on his chest.

“eee!”

“???” You almost doubt it’s a seagull showering with you when you hear the high-pitched squeak coming from your lover whose voice is always low and gravel.

“...” Oh, and he’s avoiding meeting your eyes now.

“Did you just squeal Simon?”

“No.”

“But I heard—“

“No.”

“You want this bath bomb or this or that?”

“They’re all fucking same.”

“No, this is vanilla, this is lavender, this is rose and this is...”

“Bloody hell... just choose one for me.”

“Alright then.” You toss the vanilla one into the lukewarm water.

10 minutes after Simon falls asleep in the bathtub with the rubber duck in his hand when you softly scratch his scalp.

...

A few days later, you open the drawer outside the bathroom and get drowned by tons of vanilla bath bombs.

“I thought someone said all of them are the same...” You smirk at Simon, while he just stares at you and can’t find a convincing reason to defend himself.

You discover Simon’s skin turns into light pink after showering with you a few times.

“You’re like a strawberry” You two are cuddling on the bed after a soothing shower together. “Your skin always becomes pink after you shower with me.”

“I’m not a fucking strawberry.”

“How about peach?”

“That’s the same.”

“but it’s cute, seeing your cheeks turn red.”

You poke his face cheekily, but he just shoves your blahaj on his face to cover it.

“What, Simon?” You snicker as you scoot closer “Shy for being said cute?”

“...” He doesn’t answer, just covers his face with your plushie more secure.

“How can I kiss you when you cover your face, handsome?”

“...” Simon still maintains silence, but you’re damn sure he’s hesitating.

“You don’t want my kiss?” You fake a disappointed tone, and eventually, he moves the blahaj out of his face.

Your smile deepens when you still spot the pink smearing across his cheeks.

“That’s my man.” You peck his lips “Thanks, cutie”

You really should stop teasing him. You tell yourself when he smashes the blahaj on his face again once he hears you call him cutie.

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

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flickering-chandelier · 2 days

Text

Will It Patch Your Broken Wings?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel is feeling insecure one night and cheats on Reader. She is absolutely devastated and wants nothing to do with him, but he is determined to show her how much he loves her.

Inspired by the love triangle in Taylor Swift’s betty/august/cardigan

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: angst, cheating, swearing

Word Count: 6.3k

Betty, I know where it all went wrong

Your favorite song was playing

From the far side of the gym

I was nowhere to be found

I hate the crowds, you know that

Plus, I saw you dance with him

Azriel tucked his wing in tighter as you led him through Rita’s, your hand in his, a bounce in your step. You loved it here: the energy, the dancing, the music.

Azriel, on the other hand, really only went along because he loved you.

The music was pounding in Azriel’s mind, overwhelming his senses. He could normally block it out and will his body to be loose enough to attempt to dance with you, but today had been a particularly long day in which he had to… secure information from some traitors.

He didn’t let his memory go past that, not when he was with you. But it had been a day. A terrible day.

You were dancing now, like you were born to do it, like you didn’t care at all who was watching. You turned to him, a bright smile lighting up your face, and he couldn’t help but soften at the sight, feeling comforted by your effortless radiance.

He would never understand why you had chosen him. He was thankful of course, but he was willing to admit the two of you sometimes seemed like an unlikely pair. You were bright and bubbly, lighting up every room -- a direct juxtaposition to his shadows, his darkness, his tendency to be stoic and silent.

Watching him stay completely still in the middle of the crowd, your face fell, and you sidled up to him, craning your neck to look him in the eyes as you got closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Are you okay? We can go home if you want.”

Azriel smiled faintly at you, dipping his head to give you a quick kiss. “Long day. You can dance. I’m going for a drink.”

You nodded, but still eyed him warily for a moment, gaze lingering on his swirling shadows, before turning back to the dance floor.

By the time Azriel got his drink (the strongest they had), you were fully engrossed in a song that he realized was one of your favorites. He watched as you writhed on the middle of the dance floor, swaying your hips, a bright smile on your face.

A male came up to you then, taking your hand and twirling you under his arm. You laughed brightly before moving away from him, dancing on your own once again.

Azriel couldn’t stop his heart from plummeting. That’s the kind of male she should be with, he thought. The kind that goes to a normal job and comes home without shadows or demons to chase away in his mind. The kind that can dance and twirl and laugh with you without a care in the world.

He watched as you danced and danced, occasionally dancing with a random male for a moment before moving on.

She deserves better than you. She always has.

His breath was coming faster and faster now, the music pounding in his ears, through his skull, all that heat from so many bodies closing in on him. He had to get out, had to stretch his wings, had to get out.

Azriel shoved through the crowd and burst through the doors, out into the cool night, stretching out his wings and breathing deeply. He cursed himself. He was normally better than this, better at maintaining his emotions, his panic. By the Cauldron, he was the Night Court’s spymaster and he couldn’t handle an evening in a nightclub with his lover.

Pathetic. That’s what he was.

“Are you okay?” a light, sing-songy voice broke through his rumbling thoughts.

He turned to see a very pretty High Fae woman. She was dressed a bit like Mor, he couldn’t help thinking, wearing a thin red dress that showed off all her assets, her light brown hair cascading down past her shoulders.

She gave him a look that he hadn’t seen, or at least paid attention to, from a stranger in a very long time.

He blinked. “Honestly? I don’t think so.”

Her lips slowly curved up into a sultry smile. “Anything I would be able to help you with?”

No. No, you cannot help me. I don't think anybody can.

She watched him, her eyes sparkling with mischief, before she tilted her head for him to follow.

And Mother save him, he did.

---

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

'Cause you were never mine.

Your heart had been pounding, your body trembling, ever since you realized that Azriel was nowhere to be found.

Something must have happened to him. It was the only explanation. He wouldn’t just leave you without a word.

But, what could have possibly happened to the shadowsinger, in Velaris, of all places?

Your hand shook as you raised it to pound on the door of the river house.

Rhysand was the one who answered, shirtless, hair a mess. He looked very unhappy to see you.

“I need you to find Azriel,” you nearly shouted before he could scold you.

He sobered immediately, noticing your distress. “What do you mean?”

You explained to him what had happened, that he had seemed off at Rita's, that he told you he was going to get a drink, then vanished. You had assumed that he had been lingering on the outskirts of the dance floor, and didn't notice for quite some time that he had left completely.

“I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation,” he said soothingly. “Did you check your apartment?”

You nodded. He wasn't there, at the home he shared with you. “And the townhouse.”

Rhysand's violet eyes were contemplative. Hesitating.

“Can't you just…feel for him or whatever?”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah. I can.”

“Then do it!”

Rhysand's eyes went unfocused after a beat, and when they widened again in surprise, you knew he had found him.

“What is it? Is he okay?”

“He's… at a random apartment. At least it's not one that I recognize.”

Your heart lurched. “What? Why?”

Rhys shrugged, his expression darkening. “Okay. Shit. Wait here, I'll go tell Feyre what's going on and take you to him.”

Rhysand came back a moment later, now in his normal black attire, and winnowed you in front of an apartment complex not far from Rita's. You had certainly never been here before. The silence was agony as you followed Rhys up the stairs, to the door.

He glanced back at you, a question in his eyes. You shook your head and he knocked, the sound rattling around in your skull.

You heard shuffling, giggling, and then.

Then.

A woman answered the door. A beautiful woman who was wearing Azriel's shirt.

A woman who was wearing your lover’s shirt and nothing else.

Your knees nearly buckled. You tasted bile in your mouth. You were going to be sick.

She cocked her head to the side. “Yes?”

Rhysand was deathly still, his power rippling from him, darkening the doorway. You remained behind him, but you had to know. Had to know for sure.

So you peeked around Rhysand's shoulder, further into the woman's apartment.

And saw Azriel, bare chested, lying in her bed, the sheets bunched up at his waist, his wings drooping on the ground, his hand tucked under his head, staring at the ceiling, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You barely had time to spin around before you entered your stomach in the hallway.

---

The worst thing that I ever did

was what I did to you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Az?” Rhysand's voice boomed from the door the woman had just answered.

Hearing such a familiar voice in such an unfamiliar setting was initially what shocked Azriel enough that he nearly fell out of bed.

Then it hit him.

Rhysand was here.

No no no no no no--

Azriel scrambled up out of the woman's bed, frantically searching for his pants and tugging them on.

“I-”

“Don't answer that.” Rhysand spat, and it was then that Azriel realized Rhys was holding you upright as both of you lingered in the doorway.

His heart stopped working. His mind stopped working.

He said your name, but it came out more like a croak.

You were trembling in Rhysand's arms, tears sliding down your cheeks.

What had he done what had he done what had he done--

Azriel took a step forward, but you recoiled, and he knew you would've fallen to the ground if Rhysand hadn't been holding you.

You looked… afraid of him. Not just hurt, not just disgusted, but actually afraid.

He said your name again, his voice and his heart breaking, but you turned to Rhysand and said in the smallest voice he'd ever heard, “Get me away from him.”

Rhysand shot you one last withering glance before he winnowed out of sight, taking you with him.

It was silent for a moment, until the woman said, “If I'd known you were such an asshole, I never would have done this.”

Azriel sank to his knees and wept.

---

You drew stars around my scars

But now I'm bleeding.

Back at the river house, Feyre was holding you as your body continued to shake, silent tears continued to fall, while Rhysand paced back and forth, rage radiating off of him.

“Azriel?” Feyre asked, wide eyed. “Our Azriel?”

“He's certainly not mine anymore,” you sniffed, and Feyre winced, shooting you an apologetic glance, holding you a little tighter.

“I can't believe it,” Rhys said, still pacing in the spare room where they had set you up for the night. “I cannot believe him.”

There was a knock on the door of the house and you froze. You all knew who it was.

You looked at Rhys, your eyes pleading.

“I won't let him in,” he said, his expression softening as he turned to you. “I'll ward the fucking house against him if I have to,” he growled, mostly to himself, as he retreated to send him away.

You leaned further into Feyre, grateful for your friends.

For his friends, you realized. His family.

They were on your side now, but you knew where their allegiance would ultimately lie.

In losing Azriel, you would lose your family, too.

Sobs racked your body then, and Feyre held on tight, settling her cheek on the top of your head.

You thought of all the walls Azriel had broken down around your heart, all the promises he had made about love and forever. All the broken pieces of you that you had let him see, that he had helped you heal.

But it was all a lie.

You couldn't stop seeing it -- the woman, naked except for his shirt; Azriel, naked in her bed.

You wept and wept until there was absolutely nothing left of you.

---

A friend to all is a friend to none

Chase two girls, lose the one.

Azriel had come to the river house twice a day for the past three days.

Each time, Rhysand opened the door, molten hot rage in his eyes, and told him to leave, that you weren’t ready yet. Azriel couldn’t blame him.

He knew there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to make it better. To make you better. He could try to explain what he had been feeling that night, but it wouldn’t matter, not really. It was all excuses, and he knew it.

Azriel had destroyed everything. And now he just had to watch as his world burned down.

Letting out a shuddering sigh, he knocked on Rhysand’s door, expecting to see his pissed off brother again, but it was Feyre who appeared.

He had never seen his High Lady look so disappointed. He hated that it was directed at him.

“How could you do it?” she said, crossing her arms, leaning against the doorway.

Azriel felt tears prickling his eyes, and willed them not to fall. “I never felt like I deserved her,” he said quietly.

“Well you definitely don’t now.”

He winced. “I know. I just -- I want to see her. How is she?”

Feyre furrowed her brow, furious. “How is she? She hasn’t left her room since she got here. Elain’s been forcing water down her throat so she doesn’t shrivel up and die, that’s how she is.”

Azriel swallowed, trying to steady his shaking hands. He felt like he was drowning. He wished he would, if it meant that it would make you stop feeling like that. “Do you think she’ll talk to me?”

She studied him, her mouth a hard, thin line. Finally, she turned, heading inside and he followed her, his knees wobbling.

When they made it to your door, she knocked softly, saying through the door, “He’s here.”

Azriel held his breath until the door opened, slowly.

And when he saw you, he couldn’t breathe. You looked… devastating. Your eyes were red and swollen, you were pale, your hair was a mess.

It was his fault. He had done this to you. He felt sick.

Your eyes were hollow when you looked at him, like you didn’t feel anything at all.

“Do you want me to stay?” Feyre asked you quietly.

You shook your head, your eyes darting away from Azriel. Feyre shot him a warning glare before she reluctantly went down the hallway.

You turned, moving to sit on the bed that looked like it hadn’t been made in days, every movement you made looking wary, exhausted. Destroyed. Your eyes were fixed on your hands in your lap, unwilling to look at him.

Azriel lingered just inside the room, feeling uncomfortable in his skin. He longed to hold you in his arms, to kiss your pain away.

He said your name, willing you to look at him. You flinched.

It felt like a punch to the gut. Azriel wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“I am so, so sorry,” he rasped.

You shook your head, not looking up. “How could you do this, Az? How could you do this to me?” Your voice cracked when you said his name.

Tears started to fall down his own cheeks as he said, “I… don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I saw you dancing with those males, looking so carefree, and I didn’t feel like I fit into that part of your life. I’ve always felt like you deserved someone better than me, someone… easier.”

Finally, you looked up at him, and he wished you hadn’t. Your eyes were full of fury. And hurt. He had never seen you like that before. “You cheated on me because I danced with some guys for two seconds?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Azriel tried.

“You think I wanted somebody like them? Somebody easier?”

Azriel opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I thought--”

“I wanted you,” you spat, and he recoiled at the hurt in your voice, at the pain in your eyes that he had put there. “All I ever wanted was you.”

He couldn't breathe. His voice came out weaker than he had ever heard it, “I'm sorry. It was a mistake, I'm a miserable, miserable fool. I want you. You're all I want.”

You laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. “How can you even say that after what you did?”

“I know, you’re right,” he sighed, raking a scarred hand through his hair, his shadows dancing around his arms. “It doesn’t make sense, what I did. It was stupid and awful, and the worst thing that I’ve ever done, and I am so so sorry,” he said, taking a step forward, reaching his hand out to take yours.

“Don’t touch me,” you spat, wrenching your hand away.

He blinked, taking a step back, his heart in his throat.

“You said you loved me,” you said, your voice now barely a whisper, as if all your energy had been completely drained. “You said you wanted to be with me forever. Did you ever mean any of it?”

“Of course I did,” he said softly. “I still do. I love you. I want you.”

You sniffed, putting your head in your hands. “Well. You should’ve thought of that before you fucked her.”

He blanched at your tone, at your language. He didn’t think you’d ever said that word before, at least not around him.

“Please,” he said, his voice breaking, as he knelt down in front of you, trying to meet your eyes. “Please, what can I do? What can I do to fix this?”

Your eyes rose to meet his. You took in the sight, the shadowsinger kneeling before you, begging for your forgiveness. “You can’t fix it,” you said, seething. “You left me. You abandoned me at Rita’s. Do you have any idea how that felt? I thought something horrible had happened to you!”

Azriel tightened his jaw. He hadn’t known, hadn’t even thought about--

“And then to see you. With her. In her bed,” you broke off, looking at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears from falling, he knew.

“I’m sorry.” It was all he could say. His tears were flowing down his cheeks now and he hastily wiped them away, not wanting to take his eyes off you for fear that you would vanish.

After a long moment, you leveled your gaze on him again. “Would you have told me? If I wasn’t worried sick, if I had just gone home, and waited for you to stumble on in, would you have told me? Or would you just keep acting like everything was fine, knowing that you had just betrayed me?”

Azriel swallowed hard. He thought about the guilt he had felt immediately, how he was contemplating what the hell he was going to tell you as he was staring at that ceiling before Rhysand had knocked. “I would’ve told you,” he said, his voice husky. “I was going to tell you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, looking anywhere but him. “I don’t even know why I asked. How can I trust anything you say?”

“I don’t know. But it’s true,” he said, shifting on his knees, wishing he could reach for your hand.

Hiding your face in your hands, you said, barely audibly, “I hate you. I hate you for doing this to me and making me feel like this.”

Azriel’s heart finally shattered completely. He knew he would never be able to put the pieces back together, as long as he lived. He had done this to you, his beautiful, bubbly, happy love. Reduced to this. To hating him. And he couldn’t even blame you.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you.”

“Stop saying that,” you cried.

“It’s true. It’s all I’ve got. I won’t try to make excuses, I’m just … I’m sorry. And I love you. I’ll never stop loving you.”

You sniffled, and took your hands away from your face, looking to the ceiling once again, like you were steeling yourself to say what you were about to. “I never want to see you again,” you said, weakly. “You can have the apartment. Elain and Nesta are packing my things right now.”

Azriel shook his head, his panic rising, “No, no, you don’t have to--”

“I do,” you cut him off. “It’s done, Az. We’re done,” you rose off the bed and went to the washroom, looking unsteady on your feet. “You can go now.”

You shut yourself in behind the closed door, and it was five hundred years of will and training that carried his legs out of the river house, and out of your life forever.

Azriel took to the sky, flying and flying, the wind biting at his skin, at his eyes. He kept picturing your heartbroken expression, the words you spoke to him.

He didn't stop flying until he made it to the depths of the Illyrian mountains, where he knew he would be well and truly alone.

Spotting a flat section nestled between several mountains, he landed in the snow, barely stopping long enough to punch the mountainside. It was stupid, he knew, he was more likely to break his hand than blow off any of this steam, but he had to do something to stop this pain, this panic, this despair that he could blame on nobody but himself.

He had lost you. He had lost the love of his life forever because he couldn't overcome his fears. He had been so scared that he wasn't good enough for you that he made sure that it was true.

Grunting, he punched the mountainside over and over again until his knuckles bled, and then he punched it some more. Tears froze on his cheeks, the wind chilling him to the bone.

Az was dimly aware of someone landing behind him, so hard it shook the ground beneath his feet. He kept punching.

“You're not going to solve your problems out here,” Cassian called to him.

Finally, Azriel halted, turning around to face his brother. “You know, we have better things to punch,” Cassian added.

Azriel scowled, sinking into the snow, exhausted.

Cassian strode over to him, plopping down a few feet away, hissing at the cold now sleeping through his pants. He studied Azriel, seemingly waiting for him to speak.

“She hates me,” Azriel whispered finally. “She said she never wants to see me again.”

Cassian sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Fuck.”

Azriel could only nod sadly.

“You know she didn't mean it. At least not the second part. She loves you.”

Sniffing, wiping at his eyes, Azriel groaned. “I don't know if she does anymore.”

“She does,” Cassian said quietly. “I know she does.”

After a beat of silence, Cassian asked, “What are you going to do?”

Azriel shrugged, watching his bloody hands start to heal. “Well. I could either hang around, keep apologizing, and piss her off more, or… leave her alone…”

“And piss her off more,” Cassian added.

A dry laugh escaped Azriel. “Exactly.”

Cassian was quiet for a moment, seemingly pondering how to help him.

“I’m not giving up on her,” Azriel finally said, with more conviction than he felt. “I just… I don't want to make it worse.”

“Az, I hate to tell you this, but I don't think it could get much worse,” Cassian said, grimacing.

Azriel just sighed, stretching out his wings behind him.

---

I knew I'd curse you for the longest time

Chasing shadows in the grocery line.

Seeing Azriel again, seeing him beg on his knees for your forgiveness, seeing how hollow his eyes looked, how his shadows were so unrelenting around him, had absolutely wrecked you.

It was another few days until you had the courage to leave the river house at all.

Azriel had come back to the river house several times, but you had your friends send him away. You couldn’t bear to see him again.

Feyre and Rhysand had checked on you frequently during your stay at their house, consoling you, cursing Azriel’s name right along with you. Rhys had even loaned you what you needed to get your own apartment, on the other side of Velaris from the one that you once shared with Azriel.

That part seemed to make it final, somehow. You could almost convince yourself it had all been a dream until you made your way to your new, empty apartment, without a trace of the love that used to be yours.

That empty apartment wrecked you all over again, and as you looked around it for the first time, your body folded in half, arms wrapping around your stomach as your body racked with sobs.

You had started to regret insisting that you do this part by yourself.

It was really over. Azriel really cheated on you and it was really done.

You knew it was time to start distancing yourself from Azriel’s family. They had undoubtedly been on your side this whole time, but even Rhysand and Feyre were starting to change their tune slightly. You know he loves you still. You know he’s a good male. You know he’s so sorry.

You understood where they were coming from, really, you did.

But that didn’t make it hurt less. What you needed was to hate him. It was the only way you could ever bring yourself to move on, to start living your life again.

You had been solemnly unpacking for a few hours when there was a knock on your door. You stiffened immediately. Rhysand and Feyre had said that they wouldn’t tell Azriel where you lived, but maybe he had figured it out?

“Relax sweetheart, it’s me,” Cassian said on the other side of the door, and you did relax, if only slightly. You hadn’t seen him since before this all started.

Reluctantly you let him in. He was sauntering, wearing that easy smirk he always donned. You couldn’t decide if it was comforting or annoying.

Cassian whistled as he looked around. “Nice place.”

You settled on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes softened as he walked closer to you, then perched next to you on the couch, not quite relaxed. “I wanted to check on you.”

“You can report back to Azriel that I’m just as pissed as ever,” you grumbled.

“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Cassian said quietly.

Skeptically, you turned to face him. You were sure he would be the most likely to take Azriel’s side.

After a moment, Cassian said, “If it’s any consolation, he hates himself probably about as much as you hate him right now.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse,” you admitted.

Cassian sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Did you mean it? That you never wanted to see him again?”

You shifted, hugging your knees to your chest. “In the moment I did. Thinking about seeing him now… it breaks me apart. But, thinking about the rest of my life completely without him…”

“That breaks you apart too?” Cassian offered.

You nodded, tears stinging your eyes.

“Okay, look,” Cassian said, turning so he fully faced you. “I’m going to tell you something. You’re my friend and he’s my brother, and I love you both, so I need you to know I’m not trying to convince you of anything, I am merely giving you information. Okay?”

“O-kay…”

He took a deep breath, seemingly gathering his thoughts, before he continued. “Azriel has always felt like he was inferior. The way he was raised… he carries that around more than a lot of people think. He often thinks that he isn’t good enough for people, but especially you.”

“How do you know?” You knew that Az still dealt with a lot from his childhood, but he wouldn’t often voice those things to you. He had mentioned something about not feeling good enough when you saw him, but you weren’t sure what to make of it.

“He mentioned it to me a few times, that he didn’t feel like he was the kind of person you should be with. You’re so bright and bubbly, he felt like you deserved somebody who was the same.”

You rested your cheek on your knee, trying to digest the information. “But… he must have known I never actually felt like that, right?”

Cassian shrugged. “On a good day, maybe. But deep down I think he always had it in the back of his mind: that fear that he wasn’t right for you.”

“He should’ve told me,” you said quietly.

“I agree. And I’m not saying that it excuses what he did, but that day…it was a hard one for him. What he had to do in the Court of Nightmares.”

Your stomach dropped. You hadn’t even thought about that.

“Well, he should’ve told me that too.”

Cassian nodded. “Yes. He should have.”

You groaned. “I hate this.”

“I know,” he said quietly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “I’m sorry.”

Cassian let you cry on his chest for a long moment before he said, “hH wants to come see you, you know. He doesn't want to give up on you.”

When you didn't respond, he said softly, “Just think about it.”

Days later, all that Cassian had said was still ringing in your ears, even as you walked through the market when it was the busiest.

Despite everything, it hurt your heart to think that Azriel had ever felt like he wasn't enough for you. And you were still so hurt at what he had done and what you had seen, but it at least made more sense now.

You hated this feeling of loneliness that followed you around wherever you went now, rooted so deeply in you that you were scared it would never go away.

Azriel had been so good to you for so long. Was one mistake really worth throwing everything away?

Every time you had the thought though, you remembered the sight of him in her bed and wanted to scream or cry or kick something.

Suddenly, as you were nearing the edge of the market, you swore you saw the wisp of a curling shadow out of the corner of your eye and stiffened. This hadn't been the first time that you thought you glimpsed Azriel's shadows or wings in public since it happened.

But, no this time it was real. And he saw you too.

You willed your feet to move, but they wouldn't. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, from this man who had loved and hurt you so completely.

Azriel approached you like you were an injured animal he was trying not to scare away. Your heart thundered in your chest.

“Hi,” he said in what you knew was his gentlest voice.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak. Still, after everything, you missed him. And seeing him now… it was too much to bear. Yet, too much to walk away.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly, his eyes swimming with pain and affection. His shadows were on full display, despite the fact that they usually shied away from the sun.

“You've already said that,” you murmured, still rooted to the spot.

“I know. And I'll keep saying it every chance I get. If I knew where you lived, I'd send you flowers or a book or dinner from that restaurant you love every day and I'd tell you I'm sorry and that I love you.” His voice was shaky in a way you had never heard from the shadowsinger.

“You would not,” you said, trying to sound angry but it just came out weak.

“Of course I would,” he said, risking a step closer to you. “I would do anything to take your pain away. You have to believe that.”

You did. You did believe that he meant it. But you didn't know if it would be enough.

For a moment you let yourself gaze at the man you once trusted with your whole heart. He looked thinner, like he hadn't been eating enough. His eyes were still hollow, dark bags beneath them. Even his wings drooped slightly. He might look even worse than you did.

And yet, you could still see the beautiful, sweet shadowsinger you had fallen in love with so long ago.

Finally you said quietly, “I'll tell Rhys he can give you my address.”

Those hazel eyes sparked with hope. And love. Definitely love.

---

The only thing I wanna do

Is make it up to you.

When you went out the next morning, there was a book left at your doorstep with a note attached.

It was the newest from one of your favorite authors. Your lips formed the tiniest smile.

The note read:

I couldn't start my groveling with something too cliche, so I went straight for your romance novels.

I've never told you this, but I always love when you tell me about the books you’re reading. Your entire face lights up when you do. And you know I love a fairytale ending.

I hope you have a good day today.

I'm so sorry for what I did. I'm so sorry for hurting you.

I love you so much. I always will.

-Az

You couldn't help but laugh a little by the time you got to the end. As if anybody else would be writing you this note.

The next morning when you stepped out your door, there was a pastry from your favorite cafe in a to-go bag. On the bag was a note:

I'm really hoping you'll find this in the morning so it's still good.

If not, you just come let me know and I'll drop everything to get you a fresh one.

I miss you.

My life is a nightmare without you.

I'm so sorry.

I love you.

-Az

And so it went. Every morning, rain or shine, Azriel would leave something that he knew you would love, with a note, always ending in some version of I'm sorry. I love you.

It did warm your heart that had turned so cold. The dedication alone was enough to prove to you that he really was sorry for what he did.

Yet, every time a note would make you laugh or cry so much that you wanted to run to his arms, you were always stopped by that image that plagued your mind. By the fact that he did what he did and no amount of little gifts would change it.

Months passed, and to Azriel's credit, the gifts, and more importantly the notes, kept coming. Your bedside drawer was completely full of them. And there may have been a night or two when you missed him so desperately that you would read them over and over again until your eyes burned and you had no choice but to cry yourself to sleep.

You would sometimes lay awake at night, picturing him coming up to your door. Several times you wanted to wait up for him, to listen for his footsteps, to pull him into your apartment, forget everything that happened and just be happy again.

But you never had the nerve. You were terrified of going through it all again.

Until one day, there was no gift at your door. No note. No sign of him anywhere.

Your heart plummeted. Had something happened to him? Was he hurt? Injured on some mission Rhysand sent him on?

Or had he finally given up on you?

It wasn't until that moment that you were willing to admit to yourself how much you had been relying on those notes, those little pieces of him.

You went through your day in a daze, devastated all over again.

It was early in the evening when there was a knock on your door. For a moment, you hoped it would be Azriel. You hadn't actually seen him for months. But you quickly realized it was more likely to be one of your friends, who still came by, despite what you had initially thought.

So, the breath was knocked completely out of you when it was indeed the shadowsinger waiting on the other side of the door.

His handsome face, his soft expression, on his face made you want to weep. You missed him so much.

Azriel smiled somewhat shyly as he gazed down at you, holding a paper bag in his hand. “I'm sorry it's late. Rhys has got me scouting out some things, and I didn't get back here until now. I brought dinner,” he said, holding it out to you.

You recognized it from your favorite restaurant. With shaking hands, you took it from him, spotting the note attached to the outside.

I'm sorry. I love you.

Over and over again it was repeated, taking up the entire paper. You placed it on a table inside before your gaze flicked back to him. He was watching you closely, his wings tucked in tightly behind him.

“I thought you gave up on me,” you whispered.

His timid smile fell. “Never,” he said softly. “I'll never give up on you. I love you so much.”

Tears brimmed your eyes and all of a sudden, you knew you couldn't take it anymore. You didn't want to hate him, you didn't want to dwell on the one awful thing that he had done. You had a drawer full of wonderful things that he had done.

“I love you, too,” you murmured, the tears spilling freely down your cheeks now.

A sound that sounded distinctly like a sob escaped Azriel, and he wrapped his arms around you, crushing you into his chest. “I never thought I'd hear you say that again,” he sniffed, his hand cupping the back of your head, kissing your temple.

After a long moment, he took your face in his hands, gazing at you for a moment before he slowly kissed your tears away. You laughed lightly and he smiled, leaning in to kiss you so softly, like he was afraid you would break.

“I love you,” he murmured against your mouth. “I love you so much.”

You pulled back long enough to gently brush his tears away. “No more secrets. If you're struggling with something, you need to tell me.”

“I know. I'm sorry. No more secrets.”

“And nobody else. Ever.”

He winced. “I'm so sorry, love.”

“I know you are,” you said softly, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

You rose to your tiptoes to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

At last, you had found your way back home.

#acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel one shot #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel angst #acotar angst #acotar fanfic #angst #angst with a happy ending #request #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel

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barcaatthemoon · 3 days

Text

just a kid iii || jenni hermoso x teen!reader ||

jenni finally meets your girlfriend, but it doesn't go according to plan.

"chiqui!" alexia flinched at the volume of jenni's voice in the very public place. you jumped up from the table and ran over to jump into the woman's arms. back at the table, alexia shot carmen an apologetic look. your girlfriend had been warned by alexia, olga, and several of your barcelona teammates how you got around jenni. they had failed to mention how much worse it seemed to get after jenni had moved away.

"jenni, i missed you," you told her. jenni smiled as she cupped your cheeks and kissed the top of your head. tucked beneath her arm, you walked with jenni back to the table. "carmen, this is jenni. jenni, this is carmen, my girlfriend."

carmen stood up, standing just a couple of inches taller than jenni. alexia smirked at the look of surprise on jenni's face. she wasn't used to people being taller than her, especially not someone so much younger. it took jenni by surprise, enough so that she didn't mention the very obvious resemblance.

"nice to meet you. i've heard a lot about you," carmen said. she held her hand out for jenni to shake. things seemed to go back to normal once everybody had sat down again. alexia almost wished that jenni had stayed quiet, but she wasn't going to complain when it obviously made you happy to be around the striker again.

carmen seemed to get kind of quiet as jenni took over your attention. alexia tried to engage your girlfriend in conversation a bit more, but it didn't seem to work very well. as much as carmen looked like jenni, she acted just as much like alexia did. according to most of your older teammates, carmen would grow out of being so awkward around people eventually, you just had to be patient.

"hey, i think that i might head home soon. it's getting kind of late," carmen told you. for the first time in what felt like forever to carmen, she had your attention. however, it didn't feel as good as she had hoped it would. you looked hurt, a pout on your face as you prepared to ask her if everything was okay. "have fun, okay?"

"you're leaving now?" you asked. carmen nodded as she stood up from the table. she got money out to pay for her part of the meal, despite alexia's protests that she had it covered. "you're leaving alone?"

"yeah, i'm going to the gym early tomorrow. have a good night." carmen leaned for a moment, and you foolishly thought she was going to give you a kiss. instead, she offered handshakes to alexia, olga, and jenni.

"bye, i love you," you muttered quietly. it really wasn't loud enough for carmen to properly hear, but you were still hurt when she didn't say anything to you. alexia noticed your shift in mood and turned to olga for help, her girlfriend being a better choice of comfort for you.

"do you want to come stay with me for a while?" jenni offered. you shrugged, having hoped to stay with carmen at her new place. it had taken you nearly two weeks to get alexia to agree on letting you spend the night over there, and the one night you get permission, carmen left hastily without you.

…

"am i boring you, chiquita?" jenni asked as she nudged you with her elbow. the two of you had spent the day catching up with each other, but you couldn't tear yourself away from your phone for more than a few minutes. you were going crazy waiting for the good morning text from carmen that didn't seem to be coming. you knew that she was awake, you had seen the posts on her story from the gym.

"no, sorry. it's just that carmen usually checks in with me by now," you told her. jenni frowned as she understood what you were going through. "i'm scared that she's mad at me, but i don't know what i did."

"they say that she looks like me, but that girl is all ale. trust me, it takes time to realize what little things set her off. maybe you should go see her. talk to her, make sure that she knows you love her," jenni suggested. you were nervous about showing up to her place unannounced, but you couldn't just sit back and wait for her to text you anymore.

"who says that you and carmen look alike?" you asked. none of the team had brought this up with you yet, so you were a tad bit confused.

"alexia, olga, eli, pina, jana, mapi, ingrid, and um, everybody else who has met both of us." jenni's tone may have been a bit sarcastic, but she wasn't joking. you scoffed, not believing that at all. sure, carmen was tall with dark hair and a few tattoos, but that was about it. you hadn't put that much thought into her similarities to jenni at all whenever the two of you had started dating. you were just glad that the hot girl in the gym was giving you the time of day.

"whatever," you huffed. jenni teased you a little more as she took you to carmen's apartment. you made jenni drive off, promising to call alexia if things went badly. a part of you was terrified that carmen wouldn't want anything to do with you. if what jenni said was true about everybody believing that they looked alike, you realized that you had probably made carmen jealous. and so, you very nervously made your way up to carmen's apartment.

"(y/n)?" of all the people carmen expected to see as she came out of the stairwell, you were the last one. "what are you doing here?"

"i had to come check on you. it's been three days, and you haven't answered any of my texts or calls. i've been out of my mind worrying about you," you told her. carmen rubbed the back of her neck as she shifted from one foot to the other. she could easily see the evidence of what she put you through as you played with your fingers.

"i, uh, i'm sorry too. it was stupid, but seeing you and jenni interacting, i got kind of jealous. do you want to come with me to dinner?" carmen asked you. you nodded, happily taking her hand as she led you out of her building. you were finally able to enjoy your night as the weight of your worrying was lifted from your shoulders. that night, as you let yourself get comfortable in carmen's bed, you made sure to send both jenni and alexia texts that everything had been sorted out with carmen.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #teen reader #platonic fic #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni hermoso x reader

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cuubism · 1 day

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(from some unfinished scene that was bouncing around in my head, the premise of which was, "confessing your darkest fantasies to each other") bit nsfw, needless to say

"God, I had this one--" Hob scrubs a hand through his hair, torn between embarrassment and a buried longing that's still very real-- "after I met you in 1689. This recurring dream that you would just... take me with you."

"With me," Dream says.

"To faerie land, or wherever it was you came from, as I imagined it. You must've lived in some fantastical place, I thought, and life was hardly treating me well then. Would just be for a few months, mind," he adds, before Dream starts getting the idea that he hadn't wanted to live. Hob had always wanted to live. He just needed a break. "A year, maybe. But just... that you would..." he ducks his head, "take care of me. God, the things I'd do then for a loaf of bread, or a warm bed. Things I did do, for lesser men. Would do lot more for you."

"Like what?" asks Dream. His voice is... considering.

Surely Dream, being, well, Dream, won't find it strange? Hell, he's so damn princely, he'll probably just be vain about it. Still Hob takes a steeling gulp of his wine. "Anything you wanted. You were the only one that was kind to me then."

"Barely kind," says Dream.

"Still. When I was really deep in it I-- I used to imagine you'd just keep me there. Like a pet." It should be more embarrassing to admit, but Dream doesn't seem judgmental. And Hob has often found that confessing deep feelings to him is easier than it would be to any other person. "Figured I was just a curiosity to you anyway. In exchange for your kindness I'd have done anything. Knelt at your feet. Let you use me. Kept your cock warm while you conducted your-- your magical affairs of state, or what have you, God I could only imagine what you did with the rest of your time." It still stirs something in him to think of, even with no starving desperation to spur it.

He's still looking down, and hears rather than sees Dream lean forward in his seat, the shift of fabric, the creak of the table as he leans on it, letting himself have real weight. "This fantasy..." Hob looks up to meet his gaze, and the dark intent he finds there nearly knocks him out of his chair. "Is it one you would still care to indulge in?"

"To-- indulge in?" The words are barely choked out, the heat of Dream's gaze brands his throat shut.

Dream looks him up and down slowly. "If I brought you with me to the heart of the Dreaming for an evening," he purrs, "would you truly kneel at the foot of my throne? Let me show you off to guests? Would you..." he leans in closer, his fingers trip up Hob's throat, "submit, and warm my cock like a good pet, while I presided over my kingdom?"

Hob's never beating the monarchist allegations now. He nearly slides off his chair and kneels at Dream's feet right then. God, but Dream is a king like none the earth's ever seen. He's right out of a story.

Heart pattering in his chest, he says, "Would I?" It sounds less a question, more a plea. "Would you let me?"

"Dear Hob." Dream tips his chin up, studies him from under his lashes, thumbs over the corner of his mouth. An evaluation, and a caress. "You need someone to care for you. In my realm you would want for nothing. You would not need to fight, or worry about your next meal. You need only do as I tell you. And I would not steer you wrong."

Hob swallows hard. Dream is too good at this. Why did Hob think it was a good idea to share a fantasy with the King of Fucking Fantasies again?

It was a terrible idea for his sanity.

And a wonderful one, too. For as Dream spins the tale he can see it in the back of his mind, the vague and changeable sense of a dream, the all-consuming weight of Dream in his mouth, Dream's hands in his hair, his low voice above him, all else faded away as is the nature of dreams.

Dream hums in approval, and Hob remembers quite suddenly that he can sense daydreams, too.

Dream digs his hand into his hair, tips his head back just so. "This isn't fair," Hob croaks. "You didn't even share one of your fantasies yet."

"Perhaps I've adopted this as one of mine," Dream muses. He leans in and claims Hob's mouth, tipping his head further back, rises from his chair to lean over him. Hob barely suppresses a whimper. "In fact, I have a delegation from Hell due to arrive in the Dreaming for a negotiation tonight. It promises to be both dull and incredibly infuriating. Would you care to join me, and comfort your king during this trying time?"

"From Hell?" Hob squeaks. But Dream is looking at him with those dark eyes and Hob is helpless to him. Helpless to the pull of that fantasy.

"I will keep you safe," Dream says, a soothing, easy tone that makes Hob want to bend for him just as much as his intensity does. "You need not worry."

Hob's worried for his sanity more than anything else.

But he says, "Okay. All- alright then." He swallows down the lump in his throat that catches at the gleam in Dream's eye. He steels himself. Takes Dream's hand. Kisses it. "Take me to your realm, then, King of Dreams."

#i'm feeling a lack of dom dream in my life lately. granted i'm contributing to it with my 10k dom hob wip #nsft #dreamling #dom/sub #things i write at 2am #my writing #the initial prompt in my head was 'cursed by desire to have to confess their darkest fantasies' XD sort of fuck or die but lower stakes

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demieyesore · 2 days

Text

Flirtatious - Sam Monroe

Summary - Sam has been stalking you for a while now, but he didn't realize that you knew. Or at least had a suspicion; until you started behaving in a more playful way, despite no one being around.

Warnings / Mentions - Fem!Pronouns for reader, AFAB!Reader, Stalker!Sam, Kind of Delusional Reader but she is right...reader is mentioned to have younger siblings (brothers), panty kink, cockwarming, masturbation, unprotected PIV, little bit of aftercare, Sam does slap her at one point

A/N - Yes ik ik...fem pronouns for once in a fic LMFAO, mainly because someone requested a male reader/masc fic earlier and I plan on writing that and I didn't want to like...make it uneven if that makes any sense.

Requested - Not my request, but you can find it linked here

Word Count - ...5k...

Tag List - @vixxensvoid @maevesversion @sockiess @stylesslytherinskywalker @myheadhurtscutely @yourenogoodforme @gallerygourmet @heartsforanakin @helendeath @ysrjune @anisangeldust @catnipaddictt @ahano @itachicha @02ibiskywitt05 @espinathena-17

Sam was many things. The school's outcasted "emo". A disappointment to his parents. A drug addict. Weird. He was just misunderstood.

People always treated him differently, making sure to purposefully exclude him from activities as a child. Maybe that's why he liked you so much.

You weren't by any means popular. You knew people but you were pretty quiet. Like you had so much to say but never knew how to put them into words without embarrassing yourself. You just kind of hung around people. They weren't quite what you would call friends since you didn't hang out with anyone after school except maybe your cousin.

Sam never understood how people didn't flock to you; like how a moth is drawn to a flame. You were so fucking pretty. He always thinks about how you two met. It was like a meet cute. But in reality you didn't really think of him after it happened, it was kind of...one sided.

You were out with your cousin, it was summer so you were wearing jean shorts and a cute little tank top. Your hair was pushed out of your face and you had jewelry on. The kind that makes your skin look so radiant.

Sam was forced out of the house by his mother and step-family. He was also wearing a tank of his own. It was pure black just like his dyed hair, except the blue streak that ran through it. His face was adorned with multiple piercings.

You and your cousin were at an ice cream shop, she asked for a chocolate and vanilla twist in a cone. Your order was in a bowl because you despised the mess of a cone, but you still managed to get one of those waffle bowls. The two of you were sat by the koi fish pond at the ice cream shop, kicking your feet as you sat on the little stools nearby.

Your eyes drifted over to Sam, you recognized him from school. Your cousin's eyes followed and smiled a little when she saw him, taking a lick of her ice cream before looking back at you.

"Know him?" She asked with a stupid grin on her face. She knew what your type was, although you never really had a boyfriend. You only ever talked about the nerdy boys from tv shows you liked. Or the so called "weird" boys.

"Yeah, or well...kind of?" You questioned yourself as you answered her question. "He's from my school, I've never talked to him. Not many people have." You finalized, taking a scoop of your ice cream and dipping the spoon into your mouth.

"How come you've never mentioned him? I thought you liked guys with that whole...alternative thing going on?" She tilted her head before sending a glance at Sam. He took notice and his eyebrow raised slightly which made you hit her shoulder to stop looking.

Sam was standing in line behind his mom, waiting for her to decide what she wanted from the little parlor. His eyes raked over you while you looked away from embarrassment.

"Vixx, shut up, now he's looking at us..." You groaned, turning to face the fish. Watching as they swam by, just feet away.

"Aren't they so pretty?" You ask, staring as their fins glide through the water. Vixxen, your cousin, on the otherhand wasn't aware you turned away and were talking about the koi fish.

She maneuvered her head a little bit, Sam no longer observing them as he was handed his ice cream. "Are you talking about his ass?" She casually asked as she leaned in, squinting.

You immediately spun your head towards her, giving yourself whiplash. You practically shrieked as you whisper shouted at her.

After a couple more awkward minutes, You and Vixxen got a little bored; having already finished eating your ice cream. You dusted yourself off as you stood, swiping at the grime that coated your jeans from the old rickety stools. You started walking ahead of Vixx, swiftly noticing that she was lagging behind. You twirled your body around, facing your cousin as you walked backwards. Vixxen was texting on her phone, probably posting some off putting comment about her celebrity crush on tumblr.

"Vixx, come on! Hurry up alr-" And then you got cut off.

Remember how I said this was a meet cute? Remember how you were walking backwards? Yeah, you see where this is going, don't you?

You crashed into something, stumbling to the ground. You tilted your head back to look at what you ran into. Sam was standing there, his back being what you previously walked into. But now he was looking over his shoulder at you. One of his hands up by his ear and holding a little wired earbud. He looked startled for a second before his emotionless facade came back up.

His mom basically yelled at him to help you up, so he did just that. But not without rolling his eyes. "Good?" He lazily asks when you get to your feet. You're a bit confused while you observe him checking over you. His hands were placed on your upper arms, close to your shoulders while he twisted your body, inspecting it to make sure you weren't hurt.

Honestly, he didn't really care all that much but he knew he'd probably get in trouble for not being "Gentlemen like".

You're probably wondering how this led to him stalking you. To him being so fucking obsessed with you that it consumed him whole.

You apologized and moved on with your day, although you were still embarrassed from the interaction. Sam, however, could not get it out of his mind. He saw the way you and who he assumed was a friend or family member were very obviously looking and talking about him. But he ignored it in favor of the fact that he's alternative. Everyone at his damned high school would stare at him, in fact he's pretty sure you're one of them.

A couple of weeks later, you both met again. You and your family were unloading a U-Haul in front of your new home, just a few houses down from where Sam lived. Of course, the both of you had no idea until your mom invited Sam's family over for dinner. Something about how your mom made a new friend in the neighborhood and she mentioned having a son the same age as you.

Only then at the dinner, the awkward tension was felt. You both immediately recognized each other, and his mother also brought up the thing from the ice cream parlor.

Afterwards, Sam still couldn't get you out of his mind. He definitely thought you were attractive but it was so stupid to him, he didn't even know you. He couldn't trust you until he knew more.

But then it became an obsession. At first, it was just walking past your house, using the excuse of going outside because his mom kept complaining about how pale he is. He'd walk past your house with his headphones plugged in, blasting whatever punk shit he listens to. He'd keep his eyes forward to not look suspicious; but from his peripheral vision, he would take notes on what you were doing.

Some days you were outside, wearing jean shorts and a bikini top, a pair of y2k looking flipflops while holding a water-gun. You'd be hanging out with your little brothers, sometimes Sam wished that his step-brothers were friends with your brothers. It'd be a lot easier to get to know you if he actually could talk to you.

Other times you were helping your mom garden, complaining the whole time about not liking the texture of the dirt, or how hot it was outside.

Sometimes you would just sit on the front porch, scrolling on your phone.

Sam knew it would be weird if he only ever went outside when you were out. So he had to settle on a schedule and just pray you were actually outside at the time of his, now daily, walks.

Then he started to sneak out at night, creeping over to your house so he could see what you were up to. He wanted to get to know your night-time routine. Always justifying his stalker like behavior by telling himself that he was just trying to learn more about you. Just trying to see if you're actually compatible like he was secretly hoping.

He'd watch as you get out of your personal bathroom, always thinking to himself about how lucky you were to get your own. Especially when you have younger siblings. He'd observe from your window as you would open your dresser drawer and pull out a pair of pajamas. They were a matching top and bottom that had "Juicy" printed on the backside. Sam thought it was fitting with how often he finds himself staring at your ass. Sam was always making unnecessary comments in his mind. Sometimes, he'd bring a journal with him to write down all the information just so he wouldn't forget.

He would watch you play videogames, draw, post on social media, everything. Sam would jot down every album and artist he saw in your room, hoping that he at least listens to one of them. This was all just research...

His stalking got so bad that he even installed cameras. How? Obviously he snuck in through your window one night when you were at a sleepover. He hid one in a teddy bear that you always kept on your shelf, hid one in your closet, and one by your desk. He had to make sure they weren't noticeable. But once he felt it was good enough, he left.

Summer was passing by and school was starting back up soon. Sam was honestly really excited; not because of all the bullying that'll probably happen to him but because if he finds out who your friends are, he can easily learn more about you.

Sometimes you and Sam would see each other while outside and say a quick hello, but most of the time he kept to himself.

Finally when school does start, he realizes how easy it'll be to stalk you. Research you, I mean. He didn't think that you'd both share so many classes. He also didn't anticipate you trying to become his friend, like at all. And it was only after a couple of weeks.

Sam was sat leaning against a tree, his eyes closed with his headphones on. It was lunch and you were sitting with some people, although these weren't your friends. You had just met Alyssa and were trying to bond with her so you could hang out after school. The table Alyssa and her friends sat at was so very close to where Sam was sitting.

He just looked so pretty, and all you wanted to do was walk up to him and talk to him. So you finally worked up the courage to do it.

"I like your makeup." You said meekly, worried he wouldn't hear you with his headphones on. Sam saw the lighting change with his eyes close so he opened them. His eyebrows raising in shock when he saw you, only to go back to his stoic facade. He moved one of the muffs from over his ear so he could hear you. "Hm?" He hummed in acknowledgment to your presence.

"Your makeup, I like it." You gestured to his eyelids, which were coated in guyliner and black eyeshadow. "Thanks.." Sam said awkwardly, he didn't know what to really say to that.

"Can I sit here?" You questioned, pointing to the empty space next to him. He nodded hesitantly but at least you were talking to him.

The both of you talked throughout the lunch period, you had asked him about the music he likes which he happily told you about.

A couple weeks later and you and Sam are hanging out pretty often. Maybe once or twice a week, plus seeing and talking to each other at school. Surely he didn't need to keep watching you if he was only doing it to learn about you. I mean, now he can ask you...but Sam didn't want to stop. He liked being able to see who you were when no one else was around.

Weeks of being friends, turned to months. Sam was basically your best friend at this point. He was coming over almost everyday and if not, you were probably going to his. You noticed that he preferred hanging at your house, you assumed it was because he was embarrassed about his room. You knew that it was a huge mess and had always smelled like weed. But in actuality, Sam was constantly anxious when you came over.

Worried that you'd see the pictures he's taken of you on his phone, or even the polaroid's he has hidden under his bed. Terrified that you'd see your missing panties in his sock drawer. Nervous that you'd snoop and read his journal where he has all the written proof needed to probably put him in jail. Every little thing in his room, you could probably trace back to you if you tried hard enough. His CD rack that holds all of his albums? Some of the disks have been switched out, instead are hard copies of Sam sneaking into your room at night. His favorite one, the one he watches most, is a video where he slept over at your house. You were passed out after staying up for way too long.

The video just plays a recording of Sam kneeling on the edge of your bed, watching the rise and fall of your chest as he palmed himself through his boxers. His jeans unzipped and resting around his hips loosely.

His lip bitten raw and red as he holds back his moans and whimpers. He couldn't touch you...he wouldn't. Told himself how wrong it was. But he figured it was fine if he only used your hand to get off, right?

The video has horrible graphic quality, no good lighting being used in the video except the moonlight from your window. His hand wrapped around yours as he uses you to jerk himself off. He stopped multiple times, anytime he was about to cum.

He just couldn't cum in your room, not like this at least. All he wanted, scratch that, needed to do was edge himself. The most blissful torture to him.

Sam's creepy and pervy behavior soon became apparent to you. He had been over at your house to help you with your homework. He went to use your bathroom, telling you that he'd be right back.

Before he had left for the bathroom, he handed you his notes. Except they weren't the right ones. Silly little Sam, always doing stupid things. You rolled your eyes, unzipping his backpack to look for the correct notes. You shuffle around his compartments but accidentally stumble across a cloth that's such a familiar color. You pick up the lilac purple fabric, turning it over and over just to make sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you.

Your underwear. It was a pair of your underwear. These ones hadn't even gone missing yet, you just changed out of them earlier when you got home. You stared in utter bafflement for a couple of seconds. Quickly shoving them back into the pocket and zipping it back up when Sam came back into the room. You noticed how he paused for a moment, his eyes widening.

"What are you doing?" His face went back to it's nonchalant expression, something that always made you nervous. You couldn't read him like this.

"You gave me the wrong notes, Sammy..." You bit the side of your cheek, pretending not to have seen anything as you continue to rummage through his bag.

"I got it, don't worry.." Sam pressured, guiding you by your hips so you'd go back to where you had previously been seated before. You refused to let him know that you saw what he had stolen. You probably should have but something else was nagging at the back of your mind.

You weren't crazy. You weren't insane for feeling like something was wrong all this time. You knew that your panties had been going missing. But you just tricked yourself into believing that the washer or dryer was eating them. You always felt like you were being watched. Even when by yourself. It was like your gut just knew, but it wasn't like you were seeing someone following you around. Just little things here and there that set you off.

You decided that it was time to do an experiment. If Sam really has been watching you this whole time. Then you were gonna expose him for it. You were gonna make it so hard for him to not do something about it.

Over the course of two weeks, you decided to tease him. Purposefully changing in your room, directly in view of the window; not yet aware of the cameras. Showering with your bathroom door open, something you could do anytime you wanted since the restroom was inside your bedroom.

Making sure to bend over and arch your back anytime you dropped something.

Randomly stretching throughout the day. Wearing your most revealing clothes while just in your room.

Masturbating without the blankets covering you. Making sure to moan Sam's name whenever your family wasn't home.

Doing every little thing possible to make him snap or break. If he didn't then damn, the embarrassment would never leave you. But thankfully, he did crack.

You were once again, home alone. Your parents were out on date night, it was the weekend and your younger siblings were at a friends house.

You were sick and tired of trying to catch Sam doing something, anything, that could prove he was stalking you. Maybe you were just being paranoid. But then again, what mentally well person would have stolen your dirty underwear? You didn't even want to know what he was doing with them, but you had a few guesses.

This time you wanted to do something more risky. You were gonna call Sam and touch yourself while on the phone with him. If he truly was watching you, there was no way he would let that slide.

You tugged your pj shorts down your frame, going to sit at your desk chair. Your phone was laid on top of the desk charging. You decided to get yourself in the mood first, watching a couple of porn videos you liked on your laptop. Imagining that it was Sam instead. Even if he was stalking you, you still did have a crush on him, for a while now. And you doubted that it would change all that much even if he is being a fuckin' weirdo. It honestly kind of turned you on more.

You toy with your clit through the fabric of your underwear. The slick of the wetness spreading and making it go sheer. You then pushed your panties down from your hips, letting them hang around your ankles as you picked up your phone.

You dialed Sam's number, putting the phone on speaker as it rang. Your laptop that was open in front of you displayed the video you were still watching, except now it was muted.

You weren't gonna let Sam know through audio what was happening, if he wanted to do something about it, it would have to be because he saw it happening.

He picked up after a couple of seconds. "Need somethin'?" He asks through the phone, his voice crackling from the calls connection.

"Just wanted to hear your voice." You admitted, massaging your slit with your finger. "That's a first." He mutters, probably rolling his eyes dramatically or maybe he's watching intently.

The not knowing kind of made you more thrilled. If he was watching, then maybe he'd fuck you. And if he's not, then you have to do your damn best to make sure you're sneaky enough to get away with this.

"Oh shut up, it's not a first and you know it. What do you want to talk about?" you ask, just wanting to hear him speak more.

"Hm..." He trails off, thinking for a second. "What are your plans for tomorrow?" He asks, you can hear him groan on the other side of the line. You huff a little in annoyance because it sounded more like a stretch than one of pleasure. Were you really just being delusional?

"Nothing as far as I know, what about you?" You circle your clit, watching the laptop screen that shows something you wish you were experiencing at the moment.

"Nothing, wanna ban- hang out" He quickly corrects his mistake. You can hear him on the other side, swallowing thickly.

You immediately observed the change of what he was starting to say. He just had to be watching.

"Yeah, sounds good Sammy. I have a lot of ideas on how to fill our time." You comment, something that isn't necessarily flirty, unless he's aware of what's happening.

He stutters a little, like his brain is having a hard time catching up to what's happening. "Like...like what? What do you- um...have in mind?" You can tell he's nervous, anxious, maybe a little excited?

"Oh, nothing much, just binge watching tv, maybe studying a little...I have to do my laundry tomorrow...we could just chill." You brush off his question. Speeding up on your clit a little before pressing a digit into your cunt. A small whine escapes you, it was quiet but still picked up on the call.

"You alright, angel?" Your mind spins a little when he calls you angel. It regularly can get you going but gods...right now? Driving you absolutely insane. You pump your fingers into yourself quickly, little noises heard here and there by Sam.

"Angel? You okay?" He asks again, but the coil in your stomach is unraveling too quick for you to stop.

"Fuck, oh my god, Sam-" You whimper out in a squeaky moan. You panic while fucking yourself through it, clicking the hang up button while riding out your high. No longer keeping yourself silent through your orgasm.

Through the blind white ecstasy you were feeling, you didn't notice your window sliding up, the screen protection from bugs pulled out as Sam broke in.

He quietly placed the screen down, striding over to the desk you were sat at. You were tired and recovering from your high when a hand clamped down on your mouth. Despite knowing who it was, your body still went into fight or flight. You tried to scream only for it to be muffled. Sam pulled your head back so you could see it was just him towering above you.

"Put on a real pretty show, baby." He practically coos. "Fuckin' knew I was watching didn't you?" He points to the camera he positioned by your desk. His hand shifts from covering your mouth to gripping your jaw.

Leaving your mouth absolutely gaping at him. He tightens his grip on your jaw more, his other hand connecting with your cheek in a slap. Nothing too rough, but just dominant enough to get your attention. "Asked you a question, angel..." You can only nod at his accusation.

"Words pretty girl..." He caresses' your cheek gently. His dark eyes looking down at you. Dark not in color of his iris's but dark in the way that sends a shiver down your spine. Dark in the way that your brain is telling you to get away and run from this predator. But just like a deer caught in headlights, you freeze up.

His eyelids are covered in messed up eyeliner and eyeshadow. Clearly he wasn't planning to wash it off at all tonight.

"Sammy..." You whine out, your boldness shying down now that you knew you were right.

"Awe, poor baby lost her confidence? Hm? Where's the girl that kept teasing me?" He questioned, his hand slipping from your jaw and to your throat, pressing just lightly. The freehand he had, the one that had previously slapped you, prodded at your mouth with his index and middle. "Suck." As if on command, you took his fingers into your mouth, wrapping your lips around the slender digits.

Your tongue swirled across the tips of his fingers, coating him in your saliva. He pulled his hand away from your mouth, twisting the chair to face him as he dropped to his knees. He forced your legs open as he smeared your spit across your sensitive folds.

You shifted uncomfortably under his touch, little cries falling from your lips about how you can't. "You can take it baby...I got you." Sam reassures, his dyed hair a mess. He worked that coil back up into your lower abdomen. Your hands gripping onto his shoulders as his fingers pulled out of you before diving back in.

"Lookin' so pretty for me baby, my little angel. Need me to protect you, right baby?" It was like he wasn't just talking you through it but also himself. You rapidly nodded your head at his question, your eyes screwed shut as you grinded against his hand as best as you could.

That winded up cord snapped, your release flooding through your body as you tightened around his fingers. Sam kept going, curling into your sweet spot as he fingered you through your orgasm.

"Doin' so well, my pretty girl..." You panted heavily, fighting to get your breaths under control.

Sam removed his fingers from your cunt, pushing them into his mouth and moaning around them. "Better than I imagined, holy shit." He licks himself clean of your juices, giving you your time needed to recover.

Once your heartrate starts returning to normal, Sam stands up from his knees. He pulls you to your feet, you wobbling slightly from the exhaustion your body was already going through. He swiftly picks you up, carrying you the couple of feet to your bed, before putting you back down.

"Sam..." You start, trying to backtrack a little bit when you see him taking off his studded belt. He hums in acknowledgment. Barely paying attention until you start speaking again.

"Was I really right?" You pull your blanket over your lap, feeling a little too exposed. Sam lazily nods his head, already assuming what you meant. "Tried my fuckin' best to not get caught too..." He mumbles, seemingly a little upset with himself for not being careful enough. He pulls down his pants, taking his briefs along with them. Your face contorting into one conveying anxiety when you saw how big he was.

There was no way he was gonna try and put that inside you, is he trying to kill you?? "Sam, wait, hold on a second-" You attempt as he pulls the blanket from you, pushing your legs up so they're on top of his shoulders.

"Sam, stop, you're not gonna fit!" You basically shout at him, grabbing onto a spare pillow to hold onto from your nerves.

"Don't worry angel, I'll make it fit." He sends a small grin to you before pushing his tip against your slit. He pressed into you, your cunt attempting to stretch and accommodate him.

You whined from the discomfort and pain, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying as he sunk into you, making you take him to the hilt. "Shhh, shhh, you're okay. You can take me, can't you?" He comforts before teasing a little at the end. "You got this pretty girl...just breath..." You do as he says, breathing through the discomfort as you get used to his size. When the pain finally dissipates, Sam pulls out before going back in, making sure to go slowly. He may be a little mean, but he wasn't violent...never would he want to hurt you. Maybe rough you up a little bit but never cause any real damage. He only ever wanted to protect you after deciding you were perfect for him.

"Better now baby?" He asks as you nod, giving him the greenlight he picks up his pace. His hips smack against your ass as he thrusts into you. One hand on your waist while the other rests on your ankle. He pulls you closer to him, forcing you to meet him when he slams back into you. The spare pillow you had covers your face as you moan into it.

Sam thought about pulling it from you, wanting to see your gorgeous face as he pounds into you, but he decided against it. He could tell you were shying away from him. Your boldness from earlier only was present because you weren't even sure you were right. Part of you probably assumed you were wrong. But now that Sam is here, fucking into you like you've been daydreaming about. It's all too much. You always get flustered too easily, it's one of his favorite things about you. He didn't want to push you too much, you were already vulnerable and if screaming into a pillow about how good you feel was the solution then so fuckin' be it.

One of your hands snakes down to his hand on your waist, you intertwine your fingers as your final orgasm washes over you. Sam smiles as his pumps into you slow, growing sloppy as he too cums. He pushes your legs off of his shoulders so he doesn't fold you in half when he leans against you. His bodyweight on you as he presses messy kisses to your collar. "Did so well for me..." Sam praises, his eyes raking over your face after pulling the pillow away from you.

You don't bother responding, your body feeling too weak. Sam pulls out of you but you whine from the loss, already missing the feeling of him filling you. Sam walks to your bathroom, grabbing a clean washcloth, wetting it in the sink before coming back into your room. He swipes at the mess between your thighs. The sensitive area making you jolt. "I'm sorry..." Sam lovingly rubs your thigh. After cleaning you up, he climbs into bed beside you, pulling your form against him. He covers the two of you with your duvet; getting comfortable as he spoons you.

"Is...it okay if I put it back in...?" He murmurs against your neck, still pressing kisses to you. You lazily nod, almost completely dozing off. He slides back in, feeling your gummy walls around him. "Never want to leave this pussy." He whispers, not even in a sexual way. Almost as if confessing that it gives him the only comfort he'll ever need in life.

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