#ribbons of the seven stomachs

[evviejo]

thirteen's era appreciation: 360/?

#dwedit #timelordgifs #chibnalldaily #doctorwhoedit #doctor who #the doctor #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #graham o'brien #yasmin khan #ribbons of the seven stomachs #it takes you away #jodie whittaker #bradley walsh #mandip gill #kevin eldon #13seraappreciation #my gifs #thirteen* #graham* #yaz*

[hom3landr]

Madeleines

18+

After a hard day, Homelander enjoys his favorite baker's voice in his ear a little too much.

CW: Brief descriptions of gore

Homelander is seething as he leans against the alley wall. The heady scent of iron hangs thick in the air and gore from some unlucky pickpocket drips from his glove onto the dirty ground. The gruesome red mass of blood and bone that was once a human is still steaming in the cold night air. He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a growl of irritation. His fingers leave a sticky crimson smear across his skin. Usually taking out his frustration on some random criminal helps ease some of the tension in his shoulders but he feels no better than he did before he put his fist through the man’s spine.

How dare Edgar? How dare he?

He stomps on the mutilated remains next to him for good measure, imagining it to simultaneously be every person who is dedicated to keeping him down. Starting with that uppity bitch Edgar appointed to the Seven without his permission. Who did she think she was? The way she stuck that camera in his face like he was some kind of zoo animal and smugly hid behind the protection of the faceless nobodies commenting on the screen like a bunch of shit flinging monkeys had his teeth grinding. 

He thought he’d straightened things out with Ashley after his little demonstration with Blindspot but apparently the universe seems intent on mocking him. He curses himself for draining the last bottle of milk earlier. He should have saved it. He couldn’t help himself and on top of everything else shitty about the day, he now has one less piece of her around. It took them a year to begin the renovations on her office and seeing it bare was an all too painful reminder of her absence. He wishes he didn’t miss her. She doesn’t deserve his love after what she did, the way she lied. But he loves her all the same. 

He sniffs, blinking away the sudden shameful tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He needs a win. 

He reaches down to touch his hip where the newly sewn pocket holds his phone. Ever since he gave you his number, he can’t seem to go anywhere without it. He had wardrobe redesign his fucking suit just so he’d have a place to keep it safe. The ribbon he still wears tucked into his waistband. A phone can be replaced if it falls out during a flight, the ribbon can’t.

The thought of you is finally what seems to snap him out of his bad mood. The kiss was two months ago but it seems so much longer. He remembers the warmth of your kiss and the softness of you against him on the couch as the two of you ate gingerbread and watched Christmas movies. He’d wanted to take you so bad, fuck you raw against the counter until you dripped with him, hoping that maybe it would take and give you your own little Christmas miracle. He’d had to take a break and jerk himself off in the bathroom just so he could think straight. Even now, his stomach flips at the memory.

He’d been a good boy. He’d behaved himself. He acted a perfect gentleman and there was no way you could have known his depraved thoughts when he swept you up to slow dance to a Frank Sinatra record. The singer wasn’t half bad actually, maybe he���d originally judged him too harshly. You’d blushed and swooned and when he had to leave he gave you one last gingerbread scented kiss, the stars reflecting in your eyes as you leaned over the fire escape to wave him goodbye. 

After that night things mostly returned to normal. With Transluscent’s funeral fast approaching and the new Saving America campaign about to take off, Homelander had been too busy to even think about seeing you. He’d catch you staring at him in the halls sometimes and his heart beat faster every time. Now that he knows you feel the same, he’s almost at a loss as to how to proceed and it’s easier to bury himself in his work where he can rely on dependable fantasy to get his fix of you.

But after the fucking day he’s had, he’s tempted to fly straight to your apartment and kiss you stupid.

Fuck

There’s an idea… no one said it had to be your mouth

His pants grow tight instantly at the thought and the rush of arousal is a nice balm to his wounded ego. It barely takes a second for him to unclick his belt and pull himself free. He groans lowly in relief as he strokes himself nice and slow. The blood still staining his glove provides an easy glide until his cock is standing at full attention and dripping onto his boots. He keeps his touches nice and light, a little tentative, the way he imagines you would. His free hand reaches for the ribbon, holding it to his nose so he can catch your scent. His cock twitches in his grip and he thumbs his slit as he arches into his fist.

He groans your name before releasing his cock to cup his balls, tugging gently to tease himself, imagining your face looking up at him as he plays with himself. The wall behind him cracks as he throws his head back in pleasure.

A tinny jingle breaks through the haze of his arousal and he immediately fumbles to get his phone out of his pocket, recognizing the tune he’d picked for you so he’d always know who was calling him. The ribbon is promptly tucked back away as he slides to answer the call. His cock feels even heavier in his grip as he anticipates the sound of your voice. It’s like you knew what he was doing. This was the first time you’ve ever called him and your timing couldn’t be more perfect.

The first thing he hears is the clang of utensils and he knows instantly that you must be baking. He bites his lip to keep from grinning at how predictable you are. He can almost smell the sugar through the phone.

“Hi! I hope this isn’t a bad time. I’m trying a new recipe from this french cookbook I picked up and I always get nervous the first time I bake something. I figured you could help me take my mind off things while the cookies are in the oven.” Your voice is so sweet and he has to pinch the base of his cock to keep from shooting his load like some pathetic schoolboy. It feels so illicit to touch himself while you are so innocently seeking his company on the other end of the phone. You probably have flour on your cheeks and your strawberry apron on and the thought causes him to throb painfully. He gives himself an experimental tug and his fucking knees almost buckle.

“It’s never a bad time for you to call.” He replies warmly, trying to keep the rasp of pleasure out of his voice so you don’t suspect. You go quiet for a moment and he knows you’re blushing. He bets that if he were there that the smell of you soaking your panties would be filling the room. You get wet so easily. He remembers your phrase from the second time he spoke to you. You have a “nervous disposition” apparently but he knows what really has you trembling and it’s something a lot filthier than a little anxiety. 

“Thanks, that’s very sweet of you to say. I meant to call sooner but Ashley has been running me ragged for weeks with all the prep work for the funeral. I’ve barely had any time to myself.” You reply with a huff and the clear annoyance in your voice has him both amused and indignant on your behalf. He’ll have to have a firm discussion with Ashley about being respectful towards your time. The thought that you could have been calling him for weeks has his teeth on the verge of grinding again so he teases the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock until he relaxes into the pleasure again.

“I can’t have you exhausted at work. I’ll talk to Ashley about giving you a break. You deserve to rest.” He coos at you as his hand quickly finds a rhythm that feels right. 

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I miss you.” Your voice softens longingly and he can picture the wistful look in your eyes perfectly. 

You want him so fucking bad.

He thrusts into his fist, briefly removing his phone from his ear and biting into the soft leather of his glove so you won’t hear him moan like a whore. He wants to be good for you. He wants to be your gentleman lover. He wants a romance like the old movies and he wants you to picture him that way. 

But fuck

You want him and it seems pointless to stand here and jerk off to your voice in a blood-soaked alleyway when he could be buried in your sweet little pussy. You’d get over your shyness once he was bouncing you on his cock until you were soaking and shaking so hard that he’d have to hold you steady. He’d take you on every surface until he was sure that he’d fucked all traces of your “nervous disposition” right out of you. 

He has to pinch himself again to hold himself back. He doesn’t want this to end so soon. He tucks his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he gropes at his chest. He really wishes his suit wasn’t so fucking hard to get off so he could tease at his nipples and imagine you mouthing at him. He’d make sure you knew every inch of his body.

“I miss you too.” He answers truthfully, leaning back against the wall and bracing his feet wide so he can really fuck into his fist the way he imagines fucking you. 

Have you ever even had your pussy licked? He hopes not, he wants to see your face the first time you feel a tongue on your pretty little clit. He wants you to gush all over his face till it soaks into his suit and he can smell you for weeks after.

“Maybe once things calm down, we can hang out again.” You sound so hopeful and the soft noise of rustling fabric makes him realize that you must be fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You kissed him first and yet you still seem unsure of his returned affection. You still worry that his voice will turn to a harsh rebuke again.

“I’d like that. Y’know, maybe I could fly us to Paris so you can do some first hand research. A cookbook will only get you so far. I’m sure Vought could arrange a meeting with a pastry chef.” His cheeks flush as he imagines you beaming at him under the glow of the Eiffel tower, soft and pleased with him as he leans down to kiss you tenderly. You’d appreciate what he could do for you. He wants to do so much for you.

His balls tighten up at the fantasy and he finds it a little strange how the innocent scene has him closer to coming then all the filthy scenarios he could muster. 

“Oh” 

You sigh, and he can hear the flustered wonder in your voice at the thought.

Oh

With a strangled groan he comes, hot thick ropes of come covering his fist, his suit, dripping to the ground in milky white puddles that fuse with the crimson aftermath of his earlier rage.

“I’ve never been to Paris.” You reply breathlessly in a way that almost mirrors his own ragged panting. 

He takes a moment to catch his breath as he strokes the last remaining remnants of his pleasure out of his tender cock, whimpering at the almost too much ache of sensation.

“I guess it’s a date then.” 

_______

Later, once he’s back home and clean and snug in his bed, he sleeps well for the first time in weeks. He dreams of the Paris sky and the stars in your eyes as you look at him like someone you could love.

#homelander #x reader #homelander x reader #surprise bitch #bet you thought you'd seen the last of me #b warned #this one is filthy

[belovedjeju]

Jealousy, Jealousy Started Following Me | Chocol x Reader

Synopsis: You and Chocol reunite after a week of separation, but the flames of jealousy leads to a long night for the both of you.

Tw: 18+. Minors and ageless blogs DNI. This is just… nasty. Slapping (reader receiving), oral (reader and Chocol receiving), penetration w/ strap on (reader receiving), strap on referred to as Chocol’s cock/dick, degradation, spitting, slight crying, fingering (reader receiving). Chocol being a big jealous baby, mentions of Haechi. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: ~6.8k

Note: Any pictures used are for aesthetic purposes only, and aren’t indicative of the readers’ body type or race, and any relations to any real person or place is purely coincidental.

Gayoung feels like she’s going to die, truly.

It’s been an entire week, seven whole days, since she has seen you, held you in her arms, spoken to you face to face. It is driving her completely insane.

Gayoung had been in Tokyo teaching dance classes, and while she enjoyed it a lot, the sightseeing, meeting new people, passing on her skills, she misses you a lot.

She misses your food and the way you lit up when she tried anything new you had cooked. She misses the massages you’d give her after a long day at work, nimble hands working wonders to help her relax. She misses listening to you ramble for hours, talking her ear off about your latest topic of interest. She misses holding you at night, running her cold hands across your warm skin just to watch you shiver, slipping her hands down your shorts and–

Well, she just misses you a lot, and after the second day abroad your little talks on the phone were not keeping her satisfied anymore.

But soon, her prayers to see you would be answered, as she had just got off of the plane from Japan, and is now on her way home.

She hadn’t told you that she was coming home today, wanting to surprise you just for the fun of it. She can imagine it now, your wide smile, you practically bouncing off the walls as you run up to greet her, you vibrating in her arms as she wraps her arms around you, giving you a million kisses to make up for all of the ones she didn’t give you for an entire week.

The thought makes her body tingle as she sits in the taxi, a small smile grazing her lips. She can’t wait to feel you in her arms again. The pillow she hugged every night in place of you did nothing to placate the longing in her heart, wishing every day that you would appear beside her at night, and becoming disappointed when she opened her eyes to see you weren’t there.

Nothing beats the real deal, after all.

Soon, the taxi pulls up in front of her apartment complex, and she quickly pays the driver and grabs her bags before heading upstairs.

Her heart beats harder and harder the closer she gets to your shared home, up the elevator and down the hall to the very end.

She puts on the code to her apartment and walks in slowly, kicking her shoes off and placing them neatly by the door and putting her slippers on.

Inside, she can hear soft humming, and the sound of something frying. She can smell the food from the door, and her stomach growls in want.

By god she missed your cooking. An entire week without you has been its own special kind of torture.

“Baby,” she calls out as she rounds the corner, placing her suitcase by the door. She peers into the kitchen, watching you as you cook. It feels like all the breath is knocked out of her as she looks at you.

You are absolutely beautiful, in a black shirt and a white mini skirt, and two white ribbons in your hair. You’re focused on cutting some carrots, and didn’t hear her call you, it seems. But Gayoung doesn’t care, if it means she can admire your beautiful figure.

But she does want to see your beautiful face light up, so she calls you again. “Baby, I’m home.” Your head snaps up, a wide smile on your face as soon as you make eye contact with her.

“Gayoung!” You waste no time in dropping what you were doing, running up to her and crashing into her open arms, planting kisses on her face just like she knew you would.

And oh, does it feel so, so good to feel you pressed against her like this, feeling your warmth radiate off of you as her hands roam under your shirt, giving tiny scratches along your back.

It elicits a squeal from you, and a whine of “you’re so cold, Gayoungie.” She distracts you with kisses on your cheeks and lips, hands finding purchase on your hips as she deepens it. She feels your grip her jacket as you sigh into her mouth.

You two kiss for what seems like hours until Gayoung pulls away, leaning her forehead on yours.

“I missed you,” she says, placing another few pecks on your lips. You smile up at her, placing another kiss on her cheek.

“I’ve missed you more. How was your trip, my love?” You slip behind her to take off her coat and she lets you, groaning at how soar her muscles seem to be. Now that she is back home and in your care, her entire body seems to be going heavy. She feels your lips on the back of her neck, and she wants to fall on you then and there.

“It was so much fun. I wish you could’ve come with me. You would’ve loved it.” She follows you to the living room with her eyes, watching you place her coat on the arm rest before coming back to the kitchen to resume cooking. Gayoung sits in a high top chair by the counter. You flip some meat –chicken by the looks of it– over in a pan before resuming cutting your vegetables.

“Tell me about it?” You ask, making eye contact for a quick moment before looking back down again.

“It was so beautiful just walking around after my classes and just enjoying myself! I visited so many shrines and malls and ooh, the food was so delicious! I almost burst at the seams with how much I ate there.” She rambles on and on, about how her classes went, the people she met, the places she had been, all while you fiddled around in the kitchen.

“Ah,” she sucked her teeth at the end of her spiel, placing her head on her hands in a way you found very cute, “I wish you were there though. We could’ve gone to the bathhouse together.” You raise an eyebrow at her as you turn off the stove, your dinner –sautéed chicken and onions and rice with carrots– now complete.

“You know you get completely naked for those right?” You say as you begin to fix a plate for Gayoung, giving her the bigger pieces of meat and more rice than your plate has.

“I’m aware,” Gayoung says back, somewhat confused as to why you brought the obvious up. She tilts her head a bit and you want to kiss her so bad.

“Which means I will have to get naked as well, unnie,” you say as you grab some utensils from the drawer and bring your dishes over to the dining room table. Gayoung follows you like a little puppy.

“… I don’t understand what you mean, jagi,” she still doesn’t know where you’re getting at, and you let out a little giggle at her furrowed eyebrows. You take her hands in yours, thumbs running over her rings.

“Oh, baby, you get jealous when I’m out wearing a crop top, do you really think you’d be ok with others seeing me naked?”

Gayoung’s ears turn red, and she turns away with a pout and puffy cheeks.

“I don’t get jealous about the crop top,” she starts, but continues to defend herself once she sees your raised eyebrows. “It’s because everyone can see how cute my baby looks in her pretty outfits.” She bites her lip as she takes in your figure once again, noticing the thigh high stockings you’re wearing as well.

Fuck, you are too cute for your own good.

“What about this one, hm? Do you like my outfit today?” You ask as you pose, allowing her to get a good look at you.

She can only hum in agreement, words getting caught up in her throat. You separate from her before she can say another thing, going back to the kitchen. Gayoung, of course, follows you again. You proceed to fix the both of you a glass of water, and a little bit of wine as well. Gayoung grabs the wine glasses from your hands, setting them on the table. Gayoung pulls out your chair for you, scooting you closer to the table.

You two are finally settled down and eating, and Gayoung feels like crying at the taste. You notice, and beam at her.

“That good, hm?” You say once you notice how quick she’s running through her plate.

Gayoung nods, not even feigning embarrassment.

“I missed your cooking so, so much. I was dying by day three.” She sips on her water, staring at you as if you were an angel. You are in her eyes.

“Aww, my poor unnie suffered so much.” You say in mock pity, and she nods as if you were sincere. “I’m glad I made more than usual. Don’t want my baby to starve after her flight.” Your voice is warm, and the look in your eyes matches your tone. Gayoung lifts your hand to her lips and kisses it softly. You feel your face heating up and look away.

“Such a romantic,” you tease, although the waver in your voice shows how much that action affected you.

“Tell me about your day, jagi. How’d you fare in your week without me?” She never let go of your hand.

“Hmm, it was pretty uneventful. I’m off of work for the weekend so today I just went out shopping.” You say giddily.

“Oh really? What did you buy?”

“I went and got a few dresses and skirts. Haechi unnie really helped me out in the skirt department, because I really like the type of skirt I have on now, but I never know what looks good on me when I shop by myself,” you say nonchalantly, not noticing your girlfriend’s hand freeze up in your hold as you drink some of your wine.

Haechi? You went and shopped for skirts with Haechi? And not just any type of skirt, a miniskirt. A skirt that barely went past your lovely, lovely ass and did nothing to cover your pretty legs, legs that she loves to grab and kiss and dig her nails into and… and Haechi of all people got to see you in them before her?

Now that just pisses her off.

Now, Gayoung was not the type to restrict what you wear or how you present yourself –she considers herself a good fighter after all–, however, the idea of others seeing your beauty, especially before her, and lusting after you, oh it just made her sick.

Your beauty was her’s to behold, not anyone else’s, and especially not Haechi.

Did she think that Haechi was trying to steal you away from her? No, she couldn’t even if she tried… Plus, Haechi wasn’t that type of person.

However, why did Haechi have to see you in your cute outfit? With your cute bows, your tight shirt that did nothing to hide your breasts from other’s view, your socks that wrap so snugly around your thighs, leading up to your skirt. A skirt that she wants to reach under and–

“Oh!” You perk up, and Gayoung is snapped out of her spiraling thoughts, hand twitching in yours. “Haechi unnie also picked out some earrings at this cute jewelry store we went to as well, look!” You turn to the side, revealing silver earrings with a metal black bow. It matches your outfit well, and Gayoung wanted to curse Haechi for her good taste.

“Those are nice…” she manages to get out, trying to supress the anger rising in her.

Haechi, seeing you in skirts, Haechi, picking out jewelry for you. That is her job, not Haechi’s, hers!

“Aren’t they! I had forgotten to wear some today, and you know how I hate going out without wearing earrings, and so Haechi unnie helped me pick out a pair. Isn’t she sweet?” You play with one of your earrings a bit with your free hand.

Isn’t she sweet, Gayoung thinks in a mocking tone, refusing to voice her displeasure out loud. She isn’t upset at you, she reminds herself. She isn’t upset at all, actually.

She is lying. She is upset.

As you two finish eating and Gayoung washes the dishes, you tell her more about your week, and Haechi’s name keeps popping up.

“Haechi unnie and I went to the movies!”

“Haechi unnie and I got our hair done together!”

“Haechi unnie and I played Just Dance, and I actually beat her a few times!”

Haechi unnie this, Haechi unnie that! Did you two spend every waking moment together?

Ok, sure, you two were best friends before Gayoung met you. And yes, Haechi was actually the one to introduce you two, so obviously you two would be really close.

However! That doesn’t placate the jealousy –it’s not jealousy– the annoying feeling deep in her chest as you mention what you two did together.

Did Haechi wait until Gayoung was gone to swoop in and take what was her’s? That sneaky little girl!

Deep, deep, deep, deep down, she doesn’t truly believe that, however, anger –not jealousy– is a crazy thing.

“Unnie, are you ok?” Your voice snaps her out of her trance, looking over at you drying the dishes she finished washing.

“Y-Yeah. I’m ok. Long day, I guess.” She leaves it at that, feeling the lump inside her throat get bigger as she looks at your exposed legs.

You hum, putting up the dishes in the cabinets. You didn’t like her silence or the conflicted look on her face, but you weren’t going to push her for more after the day she had.

“Why don’t you go and get ready for bed, hm? I’ve got it from here.” Gayoung’s body does feel heavy, especially after that meal, and especially after hearing all about Haechi.

“You sure,” she asks, just for clarification, not wanting to leave you doing all of the work by yourself.

“I’m sure. Go get some rest, unnie.” You lean up to kiss her, and Gayoung can’t help but wrap her arms around you, hand sneaking down and grabbing your ass in her large hands. You squeak into her mouth, allowing Gayoung to bite your lip before pulling away.

“Call me if you need anything, baby.” She says before stepping out of the room, heading for the shower. You are left dazed and weak in the knees, having to lean on the counter for support.

Your girlfriend has such a profound effect on you, that even the little touches can set you off like crazy. And with how affectionate she has been these past few hours, you don’t know how you’re going to survive these next few days as you two make up for lost time.

Soon you finish cleaning the kitchen, making your way back into the room, where Gayoung is sitting at the vanity doing her skincare. She smiles at you through the reflection, and you smile back before heading to the shower yourself.

When you emerge, you see Gayoung lying in bed, scrolling through her phone in silence, frown on her face.

“Unnie, what’s wrong, hm?” You start to put on your nightclothes, which is basically just one of Gayoung’s oversized shirts and some underwear, and crawl in bed next to her.

Gayoung shakes her head, plugging her phone up and opening her arms wide for you to lay on her, which you do eagerly.

“Just looking at my schedule for the week,” Gayoung lies. What she was actually doing was looking at Haechi’s new Instagram post. One of the pictures consisted of you and her, smiling at the camera widely as you carry a bunch of shopping bags. Haechi had an arm wrapped around you, and your chest was pushed up against hers, dangerously close. You looked so cute that Gayoung wanted to throw her phone at the fact that Haechi got to see you like this first, and that now, other people were seeing you like this as well.

Ah, it just made her so upset.

But she isn’t allowed to sit in her misery for long, as you had buried your face in her neck, grazing your lips over her skin. She smells so good to you.

“That bad, hm,” you ask against her throat, placing a feather-like kiss to it.

“Y-Yeah,” Gayoung says as you place more kisses on her skin. “I signed up to teach a few classes this week so I have to, ah,” you had started sucking on her neck, causing her to let out a soft moan, “so I have to choose which times I can teach for this week,” she is struggling to spit the lies out, mind focusing on the feeling of your lips and tongue on her neck. You pull back, blowing on the marks you left.

“Aww, my poor baby, working so diligently even after going to a whole different country.” You kiss her on the lips, placing your hand on her lap as she places one on your cheek. You pull away from her, giggling softly. “Haechi unnie told me the schedule was going to be hectic this week.”

And there you go, bringing up Haechi again.

How in the hell did she manage to sneak her way into this conversation?

You notice the change in Gayoung’s demeanor. The darkening of her doe eyes, her little scowl on her beautiful lips, the hand now gripping your jaw, hard.

“Is Haechi all you can fucking talk about?” She says through gritted teeth, pulling you closer to her. Your mouths are almost touching, and you want to kiss her so badly, but the grip on your face prevents you from moving forward. “I leave home for a week and you’ve become all friendly with her, like you want to replace me.”

Replace her? With Haechi? That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard, but her icy stare immobilized you, locking you in place and stopping you from speaking.

God this is turning you on.

“You couldn’t wait just one week, huh?” She shakes your head in her hand, jostling you around. “Just one fucking week was all it took for you to run up to the next bitch waiting for you, right?” Gayoung leans in close, whispering in your ear. “Since you were being so impatient, I’ll show you what you were missing so bad, you little slut.”

You can’t help the moan that leaves your mouth, feeling the arousal deep in your stomach and wet your underwear.

Gayoung slams you back onto the bed, crashing her lips onto yours. The kiss is a mess of tongue and teeth, completely overpowering you and filling your head in a haze. You become hyper aware of her touch. You feel her thighs against your hips, trapping you in place. You feel her breasts as she hovers over you, hard nipples poking through her white t-shirt. You’re aware of her warm tongue swirling around yours, swallowing your needy moans. You’re aware of her hand, removing its grip from your jaw as she pulls away. You whimper at the loss of contact, trying to chase her lips until you hear a loud smack.

Your head swivels to the side, eyes wide as you register a stinging sensation on your cheek. You stare up at Gayoung, eyes watering and dizzy. You were vaguely aware of the warmth in between your legs as you become wetter and wetter.

Gayoung just looks down at you, anger still in her eyes as she smacks you again, and again, and again.

They weren’t dangerously hard slaps, no. Gayoung would never do anything to actually hurt you. But they were just enough to make your mind go blank, to make your body jelly and to make you pliant. And pliant you were, as Gayoung let out a series of curses along with her frustrations.

“To think you’d just let anybody fucking look at you like this.”

Slap!

“To see your fucking body, my fucking body.”

Slap!

“It’s fucking ridiculous. But you just couldn’t wait, could you?”

Slap!

“You’re just so needy. That’s what you are, a needy bitch.”

Slap!

“Isn’t that right, jagi?” She tilts her head at you, tapping your burning cheek with her fingers.

You nod rapidly, tears forming in your eyes. “Yes, yes, yes, unnie! I’m your needy bitch.” At this point you’re bucking your hips up, trying to make Gayoung pay attention to your needs.

Gayoung smirks, one that means that you have a long night ahead of you. She tuts playfully at you, holding your hips down with her other hand.

“Looks like you need a lesson in patience, no?” Gayoung waits for a response, and you nod, looking up at her with wide eyes.

God, you needed her now.

You didn’t realize how much your body needed her until now, how a whole week without her touch left you weak and wanting more.

Her hand drags down from your cheek to your neck, fingers drumming over your rapid pulse. You bare your neck to her obediently, causing Gayoung to feel really giddy inside.

She finds joy in your disappointed whine as her fingers continue downward, towards your heaving chest. Your breath gets caught in your throat as she cups the underside of your breasts through your shirt, kneading them roughly in her hands. You push up into her, only for her to shove you back down on the bed, a warning in her eyes.

“What did I say about patience, jagi? Don’t fucking move.” Her voice is harsh, nothing like the sweet tone she had when she first came home. Her fingers move up, twisting your nipples roughly. The groan you let out was muffled, trying to hide it behind your hand.

Gayoung slaps it away from your mouth. “Don’t hide it from me. Show everyone how good I make you feel, yeah?” She hits your cheek again, a bit softer this time, and you rest your hand back on the bed as she continues to grip your breasts in her hands, to the point where it was starting to hurt.

She pinches your shirt in between her fingers, a disapproving look on her face. “Did you wear my shirts often to bed? Did you let others see you in it before they fucked you?”

God, what was she saying, you wonder as you lay there, trying your hardest not to squirm. Her possessiveness is through the roof, and it’s suffocating you.

“No, unnie! I’m all yours, only yours!” You try to reassure her, but she only laughs dryly in your face.

“Yeah right. All you do is show off this pretty body of yours to anyone who’s willing to see it.” In one fell swoop, she takes your shirt off, leaving your top barren to the cold room. “You’re such a fucking liar,” she says as she traces patterns in between your breasts, “and little liars don’t deserve to be touched.”

Your eyes widen, and you have never shaken your head quicker.

“Please unnie, I’m sorry! Please, please, please–” Gayoung cuts off your begging with a finger to her lips, shushing you.

“It’s too late to apologize now, jagi. You need to learn a lesson.” You feel her hand drag her hand down your stomach, down your thighs, pinching your skin in between her fingers. You feel her fingers dip in between your thighs, pulling your legs apart. She looks down at your cunt as if she was studying you. There’s a large wet patch on your underwear, and Gayoung can’t believe she got you to this point just by slapping you.

“Look at you, my love,” she hooks her finger around the edge of your underwear, moving her finger side to side before pulling your underwear back, letting it snap back against your skin. Your skin crawls, trying so hard not to buck your hips up. “You’re fucking drenched. Is all this for me?” You nod rapidly, biting your lip hard.

You want her to touch you, you want to touch her, so, so bad, but you didn’t want to upset her further.

Her finger drags over the top of your mound, and you’re keening not even five seconds in.

“So, so impatient, jagi.” Gayoung crawls down the bed, becoming eye level with your clothed pussy, and you are excited. It’s been so long since you felt her fingers, her tongue, her.

She blows on your cunt and watches as you jump, a gargled whine coming out of your mouth.

You’re trying so hard to be good for her, and it gives Gayoung so much satisfaction. However, she isn’t done with you just yet.

Just like she took off your shirt, she quickly swipes off your underwear, leaving your entire body bare for her, only her.

And good god did she miss your body. She missed all of your curves, every bump and stretch mark, the way your skin glows under the lamp light, the way you look at her with so much love. And you’re hers, all hers.

And she is going to remind you of that tonight.

As she admires you, dragging her hands up and down your thighs, getting so, so close to your throbbing pussy, you’re wondering why the hell she isn’t touching you.

It was starting to hurt, the way you’re begging to be touched. It’s simply torturous, and yet Gayoung is just sitting there with a stupid smirk on her face. You were so close to just grabbing her head and pushing her into you.

That is, before she delivers a small smack to your clit.

That alone almost has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, about to burst at the seams from anticipation.

“God, jagi. You’re messing up my sheets,” Gayoung fucking laughs at you, and you want to kill her. You settle on begging instead, hoping it’ll garner you a little bit of sympathy from her.

“Unnie, unnie please. I’ve been so good for you, just please touch me, please–” Gayoung delivers another slap to your cunt, relishing in the way your juices spread on her fingers from that little touch alone.

“I bet no one else can make you this wet, huh? Especially without touching you, right?” You only whimper, tears forming in your eyes. Gayoung frowns at your lack of response, digging her nails into your thighs. “Answer me, you little bitch.” Her words make your eyes widen, and you struggle to form a response, only able to focus on how much your pussy was pulsing and leaking right now. Her nails are doing little to ease your pain.

You’re being fucking blue balled and it’s not fair.

“Please, Gayoungie… it hurts so bad, I need to feel you.”

Gayoung frowns even more, humming in mock contemplation. “You wanna feel me, huh?” You nod again, hoping, praying, that she gives you something, anything, to relieve this tension in your core.

Gayoung removes her hands and takes off her shirt, slow and tantalizing. Her perfect breasts pop out, and you want nothing more than to have them in your mouth, to caress them, mark them up.

She takes off her boxers, and your mouth waters at the sight of her naked body in front of you.

You missed her so bad. A week without her felt like a lifetime, and being denied her body is a torture you never want to experience again.

“Please let me touch you, unnie. I need it, I need you, so, so badly, I…I need,” you’re becoming delirious at this point, all of your emotions and senses at an all time high, and she hasn’t even done anything to you yet.

Gayoung only moves over you, hands on the side of your head. She stares down at you, eyes roaming your pleading face. One hand sneaks up to your head, fingers sneaking into your hair. She grabs a handful of it, pushing your face into her chest, with only one command.

“Suck, you little slut.”

You waste no time and immediately bring your lips around one of her nipples, swirling your tongue around the hardened bud. You can’t help the moans that leave your mouth as you flatten your tongue, licking her like she was candy.

You needed this. You need to make her feel good, and with the way she’s breathing above you, you’re succeeding, though you really wish she would praise you for it.

Pensively, you bring a hand up to her other tit, tentatively pinching her nipple with your finger. Though she told you not to move, you were dying to feel her again, and at the moment she wasn’t admonishing you, so you continue your ministrations, switching which tit you suck on periodically.

But too soon does she pull you away, sitting back on her hind legs to stare down at you, eyes cloudy and chest marked up.

She is in the perfect position to put her pussy on yours.

But instead, she gets up, reaching for the dresser by the bed.

“Unnie?” You sit up to try and see what she is trying to find. It isn’t long until you get your answer, with Gayoung pulling out a very large dildo and her harness. You feel a lump forming in your throat, feeling both sorry for your poor cunt and excited that Gayoung is going to finally touch you. She puts on her harness, and gets back on the bed silently, kneeling over you as she attaches the dildo to the harness.

The way Gayoung is looking down at you feels voyeuristic, like she’s going to devour you and spit you right back out, and you’ll love every minute of it.

She slaps the tip on your clit, and the moan you let out was damn near pornographic.

“My poor baby, you’re so ready for me, aren’t you,” she coos, running her cock through your folds and watching it glisten in the dim light. You nod, biting your lip. “I don’t need to prep you much, right?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer before she pushes her entire length into you. You practically scream, hands digging into the mattress and eyes squeezing shut. Your legs threaten to shut close immediately, but Gayoung holds them apart with her hands, pulling you closer to wrap your legs around her waist.

You feel her hands roam your hips, up your waist, your chest and then to your jaw. She grips your jaw in her hand again and turns your head to face her.

“Look at me while I fuck you,” she orders, slapping you again before setting a brutal pace.

You’re moaning immediately, tears forming in your eyes and running down your face. Your body is bouncing up the bed, head threatening to fall off the side with how hard she was thrusting into you.

You can barely say Gayoung’s name, almost biting your tongue every time you try to speak, but you want to touch her so badly.

“Un, fuck, unnie, please,” you start to beg, hands reaching up weakly. “Please, can… can I touch you? Please… I’ve been so,” Gayoung angles her hips, slapping your hand away from her. “I’ve been so good, unnie please!”

Gayoung likes the way you want to please her, only her. It makes her happy to know that she’s molded you into something just for her, her little fucktoy.

She rewards you with a hand on your neck, slender fingers wrapping around your waiting throat, silencing your pleading. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, angling your head to give her more access. Your mouth opens wide, and Gayoung takes the chance to spit in it. She chuckles when you swallow, as if on instinct.

“Oh, you dirty bitch. You’ve been waiting on this, huh,” Gayoung taunts you, squeezing tighter and tighter. You start to gasp in between your moans, trying your hardest to reply to her. “You’ve been waiting on me to destroy you, to make this pussy mine again, right? Because no one can make you feel this good huh? Can Haechi make you feel this good, can she fuck you as good as I do?”

You shake your head as Gayoung squeezes harder, legs shaking as your body convulses. You hear Gayoung panting above you, her moans going straight to your battered pussy.

“N-No… un…unnie… shit,” you manage to get out, voice hoarse. Gayoung begins to lighten her grip, but your hands shoot up to hers, keeping her hand in place.

Gayoung laughs at you, returning back to her previous grip. “You’re so fucking nasty. You always act so damn innocent all the time,” Gayoung lands a few good hits on your cheek, making you look up at her, “What do you think Haechi would think if she saw you like this? The innocent (y/n) getting the shit fucked out of her, creaming on my cock. The innocent (y/n) getting off to being choked and slapped around like a little rag doll. You’d think she’d enjoy it if we sent her a little video?” You become even wetter, your slick coating your thighs and the sound of Gayoung battering your insides permeating throughout the room.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For everyone to see how much of a whore you are, seeing how easy you give it up when asked. You’re fucking pathetic!” Gayoung laughs again, tilting her head back as the harness rubs against her clit.

You groan at her words, but are unable to get a word out, starting to get lost in pleasure.

“Aww, look at you. You can’t even say anything to defend yourself. Too fucked out huh, jagi? Too stupid to answer me?” She pulls your hair with her free hand, “My stupid. Fucking. Girl,” she accentuates each word with a thrust, and you feel like you’re floating.

You feel a coil start to build up in your stomach, and despite Gayoung’s warning to stay still, you start to buck your hips up, meeting her half way.

“Ha…Ga-Gayoungie… I’m so,” you try to tell her, feeling your release approaching fast.

Unfortunately, your girlfriend is so, so mean, because she pulls out, leaving your bruised pussy clenching around nothing, releasing her grip on your neck as she does so. You gasp for air, whining and kicking your feet like a brat.

“Unnie, why’d you stop… I was so close,” you pant, sweaty chest riding up and down. Gayoung ignores you, electing to take her harness off instead. “Unnie, unnie please,” you say as she throws the strap to the side, your chances of her letting you cum getting lower and lower. “Unnie–”

“Unnie, unnie, unnie,” Gayoung mocks you, faking your pathetic whimpers and moans. She climbs over you, grabbing fistfuls of your hair. “Shut the fuck up, bitch,” she says, shoving your face into her aching cunt. “Make this unnie feel good, yeah?”

You waste no time in doing so, your own orgasm a low priority now that you finally get to touch her.

You lick a long stripe from her entrance to her clit, moaning at the taste of her that you’ve been denied from for so long. Gayoung is so wet, her slick practically pooling on your tongue as you try and gather it all with every lick of her cunt. Your tongue swirls around her clit, mixed in with harsh sucking and your moaning as Gayoung starts to hump your face with fervor.

“Yeah, baby, just like that, ah,” Gayoung sings your first praise of the night, and your soul almost leaves your body then and there.

You rim your tongue around her entrance, pushing into it with your tongue, and Gayoung almost kneels over, having to hold onto the headboard to keep herself steady.

“Oh, I missed this mouth of yours, baby. Humped my pillow every night but it just wasn’t the same,” she groans, grip on your head becoming tighter. You moan even louder, thrusting into her even faster. “You missed this pussy, jagi? You missed having my, mmhm, you missed having my thighs wrapped around your head? Fucking, ah!” Her thighs shake as you nod, nose hitting her very sensitive clit. She’s moving like a madman, chasing her orgasm without a care in the world.

You could die right here, suffocating under her with your tongue lodged inside her, her grip on your head stinging.

Her body is tingling, orgasm building in her stomach, cries of yes and keep going, hitting your ears.

“Don’t stop baby, don’t you dare fucking stop,” she orders, biting her lip as she tilts her head back, feeling you dig your head into her like you’re starving for food.

Her orgasm hits her before she knows it’s coming, and the moan she lets out is loud, continuing to hump on your face as she cums all over it and wets your entire mouth.

You try to sneak a few more licks in before Gayoung removes herself from you, hissing in overstimulation. She lets go of your hair, throwing your head back on the bed. You immediately go to lick her cum off your lips, gathering what was left on your chin and sucking them off your fingers.

Gayoung watches you with a smile, gripping your thighs as she pulls you towards her.

“Good girl,” she praises you again, and you whine at her, wanting her to do it again. “No one else gives you pussy this good, right? No one else will ever fuck you as good as I do.”

You moan around your fingers, letting them go with a pop as you answer her, “No one, unnie. Never.” You’re eyes are so hazy, and you look so fucked out that she wants to make you bounce on her dick for the rest of the night.

But you’ve been so good for her tonight, and you should be rewarded for it.

Gayoung kneels at the edge of the bed, dragging you towards her again, causing you to yelp in surprise.

“Let me make my baby feel good, ok?” And with that she immediately attaches her mouth to your cunt, tongue running up and down your folds as if this was going to be her last meal. You let your moans spill out, hands immediately going to her red hair to grip it.

“Feels so good, unnie. Missed you so much,” you gasp as she delivers a sharp suck to your clit. “Thought about your tongue all the time, needed to feel you on me,” you cry, back arching off the bed as you start to hump her face. Gayoung adds her fingers, two slipping in so easily and pumping them insanely fast. “When I, fuck, when I tried to touch myself, I could only do it in your shirts, or your… or with your pillow, I,” Gayoung adds a third finger as she plants kisses on your thighs, sucking marks there. “It was never the same. Nothing is like your fingers, nothing can beat it. I need it so bad, unnie…”

Gayoung smirks at your confession, curling her fingers up into you.

“I know, baby. Nobody will ever come close to this, right? Say it,” she orders, looking you in your eyes. There’s nothing but pure want in both of your gazes. “Say that you belong to me.”

“I’m yours, Gayoung! Only yours!”

“Yeah you are. You’re my pretty baby,” she plants a kiss to your clit, watching your legs tremble beneath her. “You gonna cum, jagi?” You nod rapidly, coil ready to snap at any moment.

“Please, please can I cum, baby, please!” You beg, thighs tightening around her head.

“Cum for me, pretty,” she orders, sucking on your clit one last time.

Your vision goes white, body convulsing heavily as you scream, all of the pent up energy from the past week unloading onto Gayoung, who fingers you through your orgasm.

When you come to, you see Gayoung’s soaked face and chin, licking you off her fingers. She moans at the taste of you, wiping off her face and putting her fingers in her mouth once again. Once she is done with that, she immediately bends down and starts kissing you all over your face and neck, rubbing your waist with care.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she says in between kisses, and you can only stare up at her in a daze, still recovering from your orgasm.

Gayoung looks down at you, moving some hair from your face, and rubbing a thumb over your neck. The look in her eyes is one of pure love, and you’re sure that she can see the same in yours.

“I love you, jagi,” she whispers, connecting your lips together softly. She pulls apart from you too soon, and you give her a small smile.

“I love you too, my jealous baby,” you giggle at the way her ears turn red, burying her face in your neck.

You wrap your arms around her, allowing the both of you to bask in the glow of your beautiful night.

#chocol swf2 #chocol x reader #Chocol x reader smut #swf2 #swf2 x reader #Gayoung x reader #Chocol #smut #Chocol smut #x reader #Chocol x fem reader #Chocol x fem reader smut #swf2 smut #swf2 x reader smut #swf2 x fem reader

[talkfastromance4]

If you still accept titles for the made-up fic title thingy:

"I wanna be that somebody for you."

This is very long! My imagination got away from me and I would LOVE to continue this story if you and others are interested!

Also couldn’t help myself and made a lil moodboard.

Enjoy!

***

You own a small flower shop inherited by your grandfather and you curated the floral arrangements for Penny and Maverick’s wedding. You were busy perfecting the bouquets and that’s when Jake saw you wearing a very pretty sundress with pink flowers on it. You even had a headband of flowers in your hair and he pictured you in a cottage with little woodland creatures surrounding you.

He admired your work ethic and the need for things to be exactly perfect with the arrangements.

“Excuse me,” he said approaching you, “could you help me with my boutonniere?”

You looked him over in his dress whites then glanced at the others behind him.

“Um, you don’t get them with your uniform.”

“Oh. I know,” he grinned, green eyes dancing.

“Then why would you ask–”

“I’m in another wedding. I’ll be wearing a regular civvy suit.”

“I see,” you nod gathering up the fallen stems and leaves from your work. “Shouldn’t the bride and groom be asking for those?”

“I’m the best man, they’ve entrusted me with it.”

“I see.”

He liked how curt you were with your responses.

“Well, I’d love to help but not while I’m in the middle of another wedding, sir.”

His eyebrows raised at the formality of ‘sir’ and only made his Cheshire grin widen.

“Wonderful, I’ll stop by tomorrow. When do you open?”

“Eight,” you sigh.

“I’ll see you at eight. And it’s Lieutenant, darlin’,” he winks then left you flabbergasted.

***

He’s already waiting outside the shop door by eight o’clock on the dot when you go to unlock them. He’s in his service khakis and you run through some options from most expensive to least. Then by category of flower and what season would be best for which flower. It wasn't until you pulled out a box of ribbon that he placed his hand over yours, you felt an electric current course through you.

He admits it was all a ploy.

“What? Why?” You ask then realization and anger clouds over your eyes. “So you can joke about it with your naval buddies? Get out of my store–”

“No, no, no, you misunderstand,” he holds up his hands in defense. “I have a proposition for you.”

“A proposition?”

“An arrangement,” he flashes a smile. “Come to dinner with me tonight and I’ll explain.”

“Like an arrangement of flowers?”

“No, sweetheart,” he shakes his head then slides his hands in his pockets. “I’ll have a car pick you up at seven. Wear something nice.”

He winks again then left.

Throughout the day you were thinking of the whole altercation. The smart, rational part of you knows you shouldn’t have dinner with him. But the curious part of you is intrigued by his cryptic meaning of ‘proposition’ and ‘arrangement’ and you wanted to know what it was.

It isn’t until your friend and coworker has come over with an armful of dresses for you to borrow that she jokingly suggests it might be a sex arrangement. You laugh along but the pit in your stomach and the warmth spreading in your ears signifies she might be right. You pick out a pretty black dress and the car arrives promptly at seven o’clock.

The Navy is prone to being good with time, you guessed.

A man named Reynolds opens the very sleek black SUV and asks what kind of music you’d like to listen to for the drive. Forty minutes later you’re in the Valley pulling up to the top five star restaurant in the state. A valet opens the door and gestures to you inside where a hostess greets you by name and leads you to the main room.

The Lieutenant is sitting at a white clothed table in a very nice suit. As soon as he saw you he stood up, eyes taking you and your dress in with a faint smile.

“Wow, as I live and breathe,” he drawls then pulls out your chair. He offers his hand for you to take as you sit down and he pushes you in a little bit. You murmur a thank you and take in the restaurant.

Men and women are wearing high-end clothes, luxury watches wink at you and diamonds sparkle amongst the candlelight. There’s a massive fireplace and chandeliers everywhere. When you look back at him, he’s already looking at you. You feel your cheeks warm.

“You look beautiful,” he compliments.

“Thank you. This is very…extravagant.”

He notices the nervous way you touch your hair and bite your lip. You take in how handsome he looks, his suit is crisp, his hair perfectly styled with a little bit of the bangs hanging over his forehead. There’s a start to a five o’clock shadow on his cheeks and chin but it looks anything but rough to the touch.

“Y/N?” he asks and you notice a waiter is next to you.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Red or white, madam?” the waiter asks.

“For what?” your brain is a little behind because of the circumstance.

“Wine,” the Lieutenant smiles patiently.

“Oh. Right. Um…white.”

“A bottle of your best white wine and I’ll also have a whisky. Neat.”

When the waiter is gone you lean in closer to the table.

“What is all this?”

“Dinner and drinks.”

“No. I mean…your proposition?”

“It’s not time to talk about that yet,” he shakes his head then hands you a menu.

The drinks arrive and you take a hearty sip to ease your nerves. You nearly choke on probably the best wine you’ve ever had when you notice the prices. Some of them are in the hundred dollar range.

“Lieutenant–”

“Please, call me Jake.”

“Jake. these are very pricey–”

“Don’t worry about the cost, y/n,” he shakes his head. “Anything that looks good, please order it. And don’t go for the cheapest one.”

You glance over the top of your menu to see him giving you a knowing look because that’s what you were honestly planning to do.

After you finally order and drink some more wine, he starts to ask many questions. Your birthday, where you grew up, schooling, your favorite classes, friends, family, siblings. So many questions about you. When dessert is finished you’re holding the mug of coffee between your palms.

“Why do you want to know all this?” you ask.

“Penny told me how caring and open-hearted you are, how much you do for others. And how you help your grandmother. She said no one has really taken care of you.”

His green eyes are smoldering in the candlelight.

“Okay…” that didn’t really answer your question.

“I wanna be that somebody for you.”

“Be what?”

“I want to take care of you. Anything you need. Pay off your house, expand your flower shop,a new car. Whatever you need.”

You stare at him blankly trying to absorb his words then it hits you.

“You want to be a sugar daddy?” You hiss and nearly spill your cup of coffee. “I’m very capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. I get by. I don’t even have a house! And what, you’d want to pay for things in exchange for sex? I’m not a hooker and that’s illegal!”

“Shh!” he hushes placing his hand over yours. His eyes are wild as he looks at the other occupants but they were none the wiser of your accusations. “No. Of course not.”

“I won’t send you feet pics either–”

“Y/N, Y/N, stop,” he’s earnest. “This is not what that is, I promise.”

“Then explain yourself better.”

“What I’m suggesting is that, I help you with some financial things and in return–” he gives you a look when you gasp–”in return, I ask that you be a companion. A date to Navy balls, family gatherings. We can have dinner as frequently as you’d like, or coffee, or nothing at all unless it’s for a function where I need you.”

“So not a sugar daddy–you aren’t even that much older than me, by the way!”

“I’m aware,” he nods patiently while you visibly flip out on him.

“So, what then? A piece of arm candy? I’m not the greatest–”

“You are. From what I’ve heard you are exactly right for me.”

“How? Why do you need a companion? You can have any person you’d want.”

“I can’t disclose that with you right now unless you agree. I’ll have paperwork set up–”

“Paperwork! Wait,” you lower your voice, peeking at your neighbors to make sure they’re not listening when you ask, “is this like a…a Fifty Shades of Grey thing? Are you like a Christian Grey?”

“Of course not,” he snorts, “I’m not into that, I’m not going to ‘own’ you. You picture me as Christian Grey?”

“No! You’re way hotter than he–” you clap your hand over your mouth but he smiles. “So, no whips and chains or a play room?”

“No. Unless you’d want one,” he shrugs. “This is why I’m calling it an arrangement. You’re a good person who deserves to be taken care of.”

“You hardly know me, Jake. Or am I some kind of charity case? A means to a redemption arc you’re looking for? Have you murdered someone?”

“My, my, my, you certainly are entertaining,” he chuckles. “And quite the imagination.”

“I watch a lot of movies,” you sniff.

“You don’t have to make a decision right now, of course. But think about it. I have more than enough money and I give a good portion of it to charities I’m keen on. We can be as exclusive as you’d like or you can shoot a text and I’ll send money over for whatever it is you need.”

“And all you want back is for me to be a companion to you?”

“Yes.”

“Like a fake relationship?”

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”

You side eye him dubiously.

“Are you sure this isn’t some sort of sex thing? Is this a new kink I’ve never heard of?”

“Oh y/n, if it was I would have already pleasured you at your shop.”

“What?!” you squeak but he just smirks.

“That’s a discussion for another time, sweetheart. If you choose. I want you to know the ball is entirely in your court. I’ll have Reynolds drive you home but leave you with my card…” he pulls out his wallet and slides a business type looking card with his name on it and a number underneath.

Your mind is racing, your palms are sweaty and you feel warm all over because you never in a million years would have expected this type of predicament.

“It’s late, I know you need to be up early tomorrow,” he pulls away from the table and you stand automatically following him out the restaurant in a daze.

Reynolds opens the door but Jake grabs your elbow and turns you around to face him. He’s wearing a very fresh smelling cologne, it clears your nose and makes your head swim because it gives off the aura of sophistication and wealth. Your head doesn’t even come up to his chin so you really have to move your head up to look at him.

“Think it over. I’ll send over the papers so you can examine it. Call or text or email if you have any questions. I want to be that somebody you can rely on and call on whenever you need it. Okay?”

“Okay,” you gulp.

“Good. Have a good night, Y/N,” he bends down to kiss your cheek then helps you climb into the car. “Reynolds will also be your driver. He knows where to bring you to me when and if you’re ready.”

He closes the door and your head is still swimming going in a million different directions. Your cheek is tingling from the softness of his lips, the insides of your thighs are burning because you’re thinking of what he said earlier. How he could have pleasured you in your flower shop. The curious part of you was very curious about that.

#ask #@mymindwide #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader

[fandomxpreferences]

Two Lines, Two Idiots Chapter Seven: Stare Down With the Devil

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader, Twin!JJ Maybank x reader

TW: trauma and abuse, so much angst, fluff, mentions of panic and trauma response, fluff, I think thats it

Summary: Your past comes back to confront you.

Word count:4.3k

Your body practically floats across the yard toward the truck, an effervescent glow radiating directly from your soul. Happiness seeps out of your pores as your hand rests on your protruding belly, now nearly 20 weeks pregnant. 

The sun's rays warm your skin and reflect off the light sheen of sweat caused by the unforgiving summer heat, glittering like the ocean on a calm serene day. You're humming along to a song as you walk, your head bobbing as an occasional lyric slips past your cherry-flavored lips. 

Suddenly, the peach fuzz on the back of your neck stands at attention and you freeze mid-stride. The air has shifted, light and salty sea breeze giving way to a thick and suffocating energy; a heavy atmosphere that you know all too well. 

The earth seems to catch on as it stops on its axis, the birds silent so as not to alert the lurking predator. It's eerily quiet in a way that forebodes tragedy and causes your stomach to sink; the calm before the storm.

You smell him before you see him; the pungent aroma of Marlboro reds and stale Pabst Blue Ribbon assaulting your nostrils. It's the worst kind of nostalgia washing over you like waves of ice water, and you feel like you've been doused in kerosene with a match flickering dangerously close to your flesh. 

You're acutely aware of every cell that's working overtime in your body, seemingly all uniting with one glaring message. Run. It's as if you're inherently trained to identify the threat that is your father, and you suppose that makes sense after years of tending to your wounds. 

A fear that you've come to associate with the man crawls up your spine, plucking at each individual nerve ending along the way. It feels as though you're tuned into even the smallest functions of your body as adrenaline floods your nervous system. 

Your focus seems to zoom in on a thousand things at once. A bead of sweat tickles the column of your throat as it slowly inches toward your chest; a sensation that feels all wrong compared to Rafe's soft lips that can be found following the same path anytime he's near you. 

The band of your bikini top digs into your ribs with enough force to leave nasty red marks that will no doubt make Rafe's eyebrows furrow; you can already hear him whispering that looks painful while his hands soothe the ache.

Blood rushes in your ears with each thump of your battered heart, and if you really focus you're certain you can feel each and every one of your brain synapses firing. 

Your body goes rigid, your frame instinctively shrinking the way it did when you were a kid. Call it an old survival habit; a learned behavior that you adopted after one too fists to the cheek.

It's a feeble attempt to make yourself less of a target, a desperate hope that if you become smaller he won't see you and you'll make it out alive.

"Hey, cupcake."

The familiar rasp of his voice seeps into the air, leeching into your spasming lungs before snaking its way around your throat. The nickname forces your shoulders back, anger overpowering your fear as it registers in your clouded mind. 

It's the one good thing JJ picked up from your father, an old moniker you earned as a child after getting sick on the sugary treat. Your brother refused to let Luke ruin it, and usually it blankets you in a sticky sweetness that makes your heart swell. 

Hearing it drip from your father's tongue is like swallowing bitter cough medicine that makes you gag, and it feels like barbed wire is wrapped around your chest. You whip around with enough ferocity for stiff joints to crack, and glare at the man. 

"Don't call me that." You snap, automatically taking a step back; away from the safety of the house. Away from Rafe, whose sitting inside surely wondering what's taking you so long. 

Your father ignores you, his eyes focused on your bump. 

"I'll be damned. So it is true. Is that Cameron boy really the father?"

He looks up through his lashes, a disgusting grin bearing his stained teeth. You don't respond and he takes that as your answer, letting out a low whistle. 

"I knew you were my kid. Us Maybanks are always conmen in the end. You're gonna be swimming in dough. Twins mean double the child support."

His dirt-covered hands reach out to touch the swollen mound where your children rest, and you swat him away before you can think better of it. 

"Don't fucking touch me. My kids are not cash cows that you can rob like me and JJ."

He raises his eyebrows and you stand taller, a silent slap in the face that says I'm not afraid of you. It doesn't matter that you're pushing down full-blown panic, or that you feel like the same powerless child you were all those years ago.

He doesn't need to know that.

"I didn't rob you and that boy. I had a right to anything you brought home, I'm your father."

You suck your teeth and give a short nod, briefly biting your top lip before releasing it. The way he refers to his own flesh as 'that boy' rubs you the wrong way, but you let it slide.

"Right, whatever. When did you get back anyway?"

It's the question that's been nagging at you since the beginning of the interaction. The last time you saw him was when JJ almost took a wrench to his skull, and a few days later your brother told you he was gone for good. 

At the time you had pestered him for more details, terrified that he had done something stupid. He'd spent hours reassuring you under the moon's beams, swearing that Luke had run off in search of a new life. 

"Few days ago. Started working out a way to get here as soon as I heard I'm gonna be a grandpa."

The smile he flashes is with practiced ease, and it would fool you if you were anyone else. You know there's something sinister simmering under the surface; a nuclear bomb just waiting to be detonated. 

Against your better judgment, you laugh in his face. A full belly-shaking laugh that causes you to hunch over slightly. 

"You're even more delusional than I thought if you really believe that. You're not going to be within a hundred miles of them, and you're sure as shit not family."

Your roaring laughter ceases when you see a familiar flash in the eyes that your brothers shares, and fight or flight takes the reigns. Your hearing muffles as the color drains from your face, the sound of your voice is foreign to you as you scream out. 

"Rafe!"

Your father falters for a moment, not expecting your boyfriend to be here. It occurs to you then that he had mentioned child support, and you realize that whoever told him had left out the bit of information about your relationship.

Your blood-curdling shriek has Rafe sprinting in your direction, the sound a stark contrast to your saccharine voice that reminds him of ice cream on a scorching afternoon. 

A nauseating sense of dread pushes him forward as he stands on the porch, his eyes wild as they frantically search for you. There's only one thing he can think of that would illicit such raw and primal emotion from you.

He figures he must have truly taken a nose dive off the deep end for a moment because there's no feasible way that could be what's happening. He watches as Luke takes a step toward you, and bounds down the steps of the chateau. 

Your panicked eyes dart to look over Luke's head, and the animalistic urge to protect his family consumes Rafe whole. Bile rises in his throat at the site of you so distraught, and he races to close the distance separating the two of you. 

Luke notices you looking at something and stops; he may be an asshole but he's not stupid. He slowly turns around just before your boyfriend reaches him, and subtly cowers back.

There Rafe stands, all six foot two of rugged muscle pulled taut as he looms over the first man to break your heart. His lips turn down into an angry frown, the gleaming smile that usually displays his adoration for you nowhere to be found. 

His eyes have adopted a steely glare, dark and narrow in a way that reminds you of a snake ready to strike its prey. Your gaze lingers on his hands, locked firmly at his sides as his fingers flex; brutality begging to be released. 

His jaw ripples with tension as he clenches his teeth, hateful words filled with venom ready to fly freely like hollow point bullets designed to kill. He glances over at you, the urge to scan your body for the tiniest scratch clawing at his chest; demanding to know that you're safe. 

A hot tear burns your cheek, and Rafe's eyes trace its trail until it falls off your chin. He's laser-focused on that singular glistening sign of your anguish; ironclad proof that you are in fact not okay. 

It ignites a blazing inferno within him; a new feeling that makes his usual temper look like a dying flame way off in the distance. It feels as though live wires are buzzing beneath his tan skin, sending shock waves from the tips of his fingers all the way to his toes. 

The entire purpose of his existence pivots, and there's a blaring alarm going off that screams kill, kill, kill.

"I will cut your hand off and shove it down your fucking throat before I let you lay a finger on her ever again. So if you're wanting to hit someone, hit me."

The low register of his voice settles deep in your bones, his raspy timbre somehow a few octaves deeper than usual. He says it so calmly, like it's the most casual statement he's ever made, and your eyes widen. 

It's no secret Rafe can be explosive, the shrapnel of his outbursts embedding in anyone within earshot. The man speaking now is someone else entirely; cold and calculated, completely in control of the situation. 

Luke goes to argue, and you catch the exact moment the thread inside of Rafe snaps. The thick vein on the side of his neck threatens to burst free as his face burns red, and his nostrils flare. He takes a step forward, his scream reverberating off the water and trees as he unleashes a wrath that rivals God.

"Go on, hit me. Hit me like you hit her!"

His index finger jabs his diaphragm as he accentuates his words, and more tears blur your vision. There's an emotion deeper than anger hidden in his tone; something akin to despair and disgust.

Rafe means every single word. He wants your father to hit him. He wants to know what his fist feels like as it makes contact. He needs to know what you felt. 

He needs to know how far the ache spreads from the point of impact, how big the bruise is, how long it takes it to bloom, and what shades of brown and yellow it fades to as it heals. 

Luke squares his shoulders and Rafe takes a step forward. He glowers down at your father, silently daring him to make a move.

JJ and the pogues watch from the porch, having come out after hearing your shout. JJ stands frozen in place as the scene unfolds, his mind racing a million miles an hour. It's when he sees the two men having their stand-off that he finally kicks into gear, making a beeline for you while telling his friends not to move. 

You feel his arms wrap around you as he pulls you back, and try to figure out when the hell he even showed up. He's whispering quiet reassurances in your ears while he tries to turn you away to put your face in his neck, but you don't budge. 

Your bloodshot eyes are fixed on Rafe, too afraid to blink. The world seems to move in slow motion. Your father laughs. Rafe's arm twitches. Your breaths come out in quick short pants. Rafe inhales slowly. Every move is premeditated and deliberate. 

JJ starts to panic behind you. He's powerless in this moment. He can't control a single circumstance. Rafe's knuckles turn white in a clenched fist. He's decided to end it all right here.

You know this. You can see it in his eyes. 

"Rafe, stop!"

You shout just in time and he looks at you with his arm frozen mid-swing. Luke turns to the side and glances between the two of you, Rafe's eyes soften upon seeing yours glassed over and pleading.

Your father shakes his head in disbelief and chuckles cruelly before peering at Rafe.

"She's really got you fooled, huh? Hungry dogs are never loyal. She's a Maybank, she'll bolt as soon as there's a better opportunity. Its runs in the family."

Rafe starts to lunge, completely forgetting your command. He can beg for forgiveness later.

"This is where it runs out."

Your voice rings out, wobbly but forceful as Rafe stares at you.

JJ's in front of you now, creating a barrier between you and the man. If Luke wants to get to you, hell have to get through him first. That is Rafe even lets him get that far. 

Your boyfriend senses the shift; sees the gears turning in your head as an entire lifetime of unspoken words threatens to pour out. He moves forward and stands behind you with one arm wrapped just below your collarbones and his other hand rubs comforting shapes on your stomach. 

Luke falters, his cold glare darting between his two kids. JJ moves to stand next to Rafe and allows you to set your sights on the man that terrorized you. 

How can you have matching smiles and the same mannerisms, but be so different? You and your father are intricately intwined, sharing so many little traits. somehow you look exactly like him, yet bear no resemblance at all.

You're exactly the same and nothing alike, a mind boggling paradox. The same temper and sharp tongue, yet a different heart altogether.

Your fingers come up to wrap around Rafe's forearm while you let him ground you, and the fog starts to clear. You know you're safe, and for the first time in your life you can speak your mind. 

Your head shakes from side to side slowly, your chest torn open as your beating heart is put on display. 

"Please just tell me why. Why're you doing this to us? You don't have to do this. You didn't have to do any of it."

Rafe's arm tightens, and he ignores the burning sting of your nails as they nearly break his skin.

"Y/N, don't. It's not worth it." 

JJ's hand is on your shoulder as he takes a step forward, and he stares at the side of your face. 

Isn't it though? Don't the two of you deserve some sort of closure?

"Stop waiting for an apology you'll never get. It wouldn't make a difference anyway."

On a certain level, you know your brother is right. Still, you can't for the life of you bring yourself to tear your eyes away from your father's. In this moment it's not a grown woman staring back at him; it's a hurt little girl who just wants her dad.

Luke doesn't say anything, and his silence is like a serrated knife to your windpipe.

"Do you even regret what you did to us?"

It's a quick flash, impossible to notice if you weren't holding such intense eye contact, but you see a flicker of emotion in his usually blank eyes. You know he won't acknowledge the pain he caused, yet you continue anyway.

"You made our lives a living hell. You blamed us for everything and gave us scars that will never fully fade. You wanna know what the worst part is? What's absolutely fucked? If you asked me to forgive you, I would. Despite everything, I still love you and I hate it. That's the person I am. You didn't break me."

He casts his eyes toward the ground, focusing on the crumpled grass in the shape of your feet.

Your desolation is slowly being overtaken by resentment, and a fire that bears a striking resemblance to that of the man in front of you dances in your eyes.

You've spent your entire life trying not to be like him, but that doesn't mean you didn't inherit his vicious temper and ability to be cold-hearted. You just learned to control it.

"I wanted to be soft and kind. I wanted to frolic in the waves and go to daddy-daughter dances and be proud of you, even once. I wanted to be a kid, and you turned me into a fucking soldier. The war is over and yet I'm still fighting like I'm in the middle of the battlefield that was supposed to be our home."

If Rafe was ever curious to know what it feels like to have his heart ripped out through his rib cage, he doesn't have to wonder anymore. The grief and vulnerability in your voice nearly bring him to his knees, and he gently spins you around so you're facing him.

His rough hands find purchase on your neck, large thumbs rubbing along your cheekbones in soothing motions. 

He tilts your head to look at him and your eyes flutter closed, your lower lip trembling as you inhale a sharp breath; a futile attempt to withhold your swirling emotions as the shackles around your heart weaken.

Rafe leans down, his own eyes squeezed shut when he rests his forehead against yours. He chooses his words carefully; part of him knows this is a defining moment that has the power to either help heal you or solidify the damage. 

His voice is soft like spring showers as it rains down on you; soaking through your armor and forcing it to slip away. 

"Lay down your sword. You won, there doesn't have to be any more bloodshed."

It sends you over the edge and you crumple in his arms. He catches you with ease, his hand smoothing down your hair as he shushes you. 

JJ's eyes sting with tears at the sight of you finally falling apart after years of holding it together, and he looks at his father. 

"Dad, please. Just let us go. Let us go."

Your father takes one last look at you and turns on his heel. JJ breathes a sigh of relief, and the rest of the group slowly approaches as the elder Maybank disappears. John B has always had an inkling about the reality of your home life, but nothing was ever confirmed. 

The rest of them are completely in the dark. They knew that you and JJ didn't like to go home, and of course they knew that Luke is a piece of shit. Anything further than that was kept hidden.

Rafe's heart shatters as he holds your trembling figure, wails unlike anything he's ever heard ripping from your throat. All he can feel is melancholia.

How could he feel anything else? His sweet girl that would do anything to make someone smile, that wakes up every day and chases away the darkness that looms over him just by existing, that sees the misery in the world and decides to sprinkle in a little goodness, beaten and broken down by the one person that was supposed to protect her. Of course it fills him with sorrow.

Rafe locks eyes with JJ, unsure what else to do besides let you openly weep. Your brother nods toward the house, and your sweet boyfriend bends down to press his lips to the shell of your ear. 

"Let's go inside, yeah?"

You don't protest, and he gently guides you toward the house while your brother and friends look on. Kie and Sarah are crying now too, devastated to see you see the truth beneath your bubbly personality. 

"What the hell was that all about?"

John B has to look away lest his emotions get the best of him and focuses on JJ.

"Nothing."

JJ's tone is defensive as he rips his backward cap off and wrings it between his hands. 

"Didn't look like nothing."

Your brother's hair flops against his forehead as he shakes his head and starts toward his bike. 

"Doesn't matter, okay? It's all over for good now. Just drop it." 

Everyone looks at each other as he speeds off without another word, and JB blows out a long breath. 

"What the fuck?"

Inside, Rafe is kneeling in front of you as you sit on the bathtub, doing his best to calm you down. Two decades worth of pain is being released, and it seems like nothing can quell the ache in your chest. 

Your father's words about being a Mayabnk bounce around your head, and it only makes you bawl harder. Rafe's eyes widen when you start heaving from the force of your sobs and he considers calling JJ.

"Can you try and breathe for me baby? This isn't good for our little ones."

He immediately regrets his words when your lips turn downward and you whimper, guilt now eating at you along with everything else. 

"Maybe my dad was right. Maybe I am a Mayabnk through and through. I mean, I've done a lot of shit over the years. I've hurt a lot of people and caused a lot of trouble."

Rafe frowns, his fingers squeezing your thighs where they rest to get your attention.

"People do bad things when they're trying to survive. It doesn't make you a bad person. I hope you know I'm proud of you. I see how hard you're fighting, and you've come so far. You might feel stuck, but you're not."

Another tear cascades down your cheek as you blink at him and he gives you a small smile. 

"When I told you I loved you, you know I meant it right? I'm not just talking about all those warm feelings. I'm talking about putting in the work. I'm here to stay for the hard parts, not just the pretty ones." 

Your hand comes to rest on his cheek and Rafe leans into your touch, trying to portray just how much he means it.

"I don't deserve you. I don't deserve this type of love."

Rafe has genuinely never felt such agony as your words seep into his soul, and he shakes his head. 

"Don't say that. It's not about what you think you do or don't deserve. I get to choose who to love. I'm an adult, and I can make that decision. I love you on purpose. So I'm here to stay. I'm in this."

His lips press to yours so delicately, as if you'll disintegrate under his touch while he tries to make you feel his love. You're interrupted by a knock at the door and he pulls back, pushing a stray hair behind your ear as he answers. 

"Come in."

JJ peeks his head through the door, a timid smile making his dimples pop out. He returned shortly after he left, concern for your well-being overtaking him.

"How goes it?"

There's a beat of silence as the two of you stare at each other, both your faces splotchy as dried tears make the tight skin itch. The two of you look a mess, hair ruffled and runny noses telltale signs of your distress. 

JJ's lip quivers and that's all it takes for the two of you to burst out laughing. Rafe looks at you like you've grown a second head, genuinely baffled at what could possibly be funny. It dies down to giggles after a minute and you wipe your face with the back of your hand. 

"It was always going to end like this, wasn't it?"

JJ shoots you a sad smile, his eyes zeroed in on a bottle of shampoo. 

"Yeah, I think so, cupcake."

You purse your lips and nod, the truth a nasty pill to swallow. Suddenly, JJ's raw voice fills the air and Rafe looks up at him. 

"Can I talk to you outside for a second, bro?"

Your boyfriend pecks your forehead and stands, following your brother out to the screened-in porch. He waits patiently, letting the blonde gather his thoughts. 

"Thank you for what you did back there. She feels safe with you, and I think she's been needing to get that shit off her chest for a long time. You gave her the strength, and I just want you to know I'm grateful. It helps me sleep to know she's with someone that I can trust to protect her."

Rafe's hand rubs the back of his neck, not used to your brother being so candid. If you had told him a year ago that JJ Maybank would use his name and the word trust in the same sentence, he would've called you crazy.

"Of course, man. I care about her more than I care about myself and there's nothing I wouldn't do for her. Whatever she needs, I'm there."

JJ pulls him into a half hug and slaps him on the back before leaving to go back inside. Rafe just stands there for a moment, taking deep breaths and trying to regain his composure. 

When he's confident he's got it under control, he returns to find you cuddled up on the couch watching reruns of Spongebob. A smile tugs at his lips as he joins you, his hands coming to rest on your belly out of habit. 

"It's going to be okay, right?"

Your voice is small as you whisper the question, and Rafe shifts to look down at you. 

"One day it's going to be great. All of the hardships will be distant memories and you'll be in love with your life. I promise."

Your face nuzzles into his shoulder and he kisses the top of your head. As long as you have each other, everything will always turn out okay.

@i-love-rafe @itsmytimetoodream @brynley-a-xoxo @whore4drew @houseofperfecttaste @everythingmarveltopgun @f4ll-for-you @athenabarnes @antagonize-me-motherfucker @writtenwordslover @madsnxo @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @starrystarkey93 @keylin1730 @fulla02 @loving-and-dreaming @evening-starlight @ibleedcalories @badasspizzalover @veescorneroftheworld @pinkpantheris @brooklynscherry-z @starkeylover @sebastiansstanswhore @lothiriel9 @katzarantos @gillybear17

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron series #outer banks fic #outer banks #outer banks angst #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx

[ladybirdswritings]

Silken Webs & Pirouettes - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary - Miguel is forced to dwell over the consequences of his own actions. Ballerina!Reader & CEO!Miguel. Alternate Universe with most of the characters included as seen in "Across the Spiderverse." Many cameos ahead. Miguel is a successful business owner but personality is canon. This is a steamy reader insert, Miguel x You! Enjoy and pls leave me lots of love and comments as it keeps me motivated <333

next chapter

seven ,, miguel’s POV

“You have some cojones, Miguel O’Hara.”

My eyes slowly lift from the place where they were once glued, the small tree. It still stands, the shattered and jagged bite of glass the most unavoidable ornament. Right in the enter for my eyes to see.

It’s been a week, one week of plain, suffocating normality. No clumsy girl, no doe eyes that I can only seem to fill with tears. No intimidating someone who I can’t guess the reaction of, no excitement.

My girls must feel it too. Maybe they liked having those stupid ribbons and pearly white smile bouncing around the office. Maybe they liked the distraction. Too bad. It’s better this way…

“Jessica, mi amor— though I always enjoy your visits in with me-”

She raises a suspicious brow at my words but I continue before she takes the first chance she can to interrupt me, as always…

“Today isn’t the day.” It really, truly fucking isn’t.

I sound apathetic, unbothered. Truthfully, I am bothered. I am bothered because it's been a week and yet I feel this uncomfortable burning at my mind. It’s inhuman, unnatural. I’ve yelled at dozens before, girls even sweeter than her. Girls with pretty eyes and pouty lips, melting into expressions of horror and sorrow. It was expected, needed. They needed to become better, to not be weak.

So why the fuck do I feel like I was in the wrong this time?

Jessica, coiled locks tamed back with a headband and stomach protruding with her soon to be first-born, she huffs as she sits down on my corner chair.

“This still work?” She asks. Stupid question. I regard her with dark, annoyed eyes and a single nod. She immediately presses the button, then heat and vibrations engulf her. She moans in content, enjoying the ease of tension in her back from carrying that child around.

“Oh yeah, it does. God I love this thing.” Her voice is vibrating.

Good, she should. It’s for her anyways. There’s no other moody, bossy and inhumanly hungry pregnant woman in sight. Gracias a Dios. Me mataría.

She’s distracted, I believe for a second that maybe I’ve just been saved by that expensive fucking chair but oh no, lately I’m just proving to be an unlucky bastard. She talks again.

“Where was I… oh yeah, that’s the problem, Miguel. It’s never the day with you. But shit, when I get curious and decide to check those security tapes and see you caging a small girl against the wall and making her hunch over in fear? Today is gonna have to be the day. What the fuck happened to morale? Why couldn’t you take it out on Moon, on someone we know, at least.” She doesn’t understand, I don’t expect her to.

I narrow my eyes, lifting from my seat. I don’t like being on her level. I feel suffocated there, with all these questions. Boss of my own empire and yet I’m getting an inquisition by a woman I hired. Regardless, my mind is clearer when I stare out at the city, looking down at all those people. I feel big, powerful. Like I know everything. I do, mostly. This time though? I don’t.

Me está volviendo loco.

And that’s because of that fucking girl. Es un misterio, un enigma. Never in my life have I sat across from someone I don’t fucking understand. I didn’t get this successful from not understanding the idiots around me, no. But her? I didn’t expect the dramatics.

“I don’t always like what I have to do, but I know I have to be the one to do it. Involving my personal life into her work is not only inappropriate but it is disrespectful.” I sound uninterested, lazed with my words. I know Jessica, they won’t be enough for her.

“You know what’s inappropriate? Your employees watching Lacy walk into your office in shorts that barely cover her nonexistent ass. You think they don’t know you’re banging her in between meetings?”

My jaw ticks, and I exhale all the air from my lungs through my nose.

“I know they know.”

I do. I do and I don’t give a shit what they think. I have urges, needs. No, not wants. Needs. Uncontrollable, demanding. My eyes glaze over my window, memories of fucking Lacy here with her pretty tits hung for the world to see. The thought brings me peace.

Jessica leans forward or tries too with that protruded stomach of hers.

“Oh you do. Okay, right. So that’s okay but a picture of Gabby isn’t?”

Gabby.

Mi princesa.

The name is like the crown on Medusa’s head. But I don’t let it freeze me, no. I don’t let it stop me from moving. Working. Breathing. Reacting. I react. I react before it can stop me and if that stupid girl would’ve done as she was told, she wouldn’t have had to be on the other side of those reactions.

I hate it.

Fucking hate it when they utter her name. Jessica… she’s lucky she’s pregnant and lucky she’s Jessica because coño, I would case her up against the wall too if she wasn’t.

“No, Jessica. It’s not okay. Lacy equates to a fucking— masseuse.” I snap.

“She’s massaging something alright.” She interjects.

“Carajo.” I exhale, reaching angrily at my silk handkerchief and tossing it with force to the leather loveseat. There’s no winning with her. Back in my throne, I collapse.

She’s infuriating, and she’s lecturing me over a girl that was only here for a week and has already caused so much trouble. Me está dando vueltas la cabeza.

“What is it Jessica, huh? What— are you dumbstruck by her stupid ribbons and worn-out clothes too?” It’s the only explanation for this. The girl must be a witch.

She sucks her teeth at that,

“Nope. I never even met the girl. Seems like it’s you that’s dumbstruck.”

Me?

That thought… it’s stupid.

My fists clench, a sting of pain burning at the place where she dug those nails into me. There’s skin dented there.

“Cállate.” I warn. But she’s Jessica. She’s not Mary Jane, not Cindy or any of my other obedient girls. Es un dolor de cabeza.

To no surprise, she does anything but shut the fuck up.

“Look, I could give less of a shit if your dick does a dance for her or not—”

“Dios mío…” She’s gone crazy.

“My point is— we don’t know her. We don’t know her, and she could talk. She could tell the story of how you emotionally and fuck— almost physically assaulted her to the Bugle and then what?”

I shake my head at that. She’s fucking wrong.

“I would never put my hands on her.” Not her. Not any woman.

Jessica displays two defeated palms up in the air, annoyance laced in their lines.

“But ya did, Miguel. You did when you grabbed her chin. And wether you and I know that it was softly or not, it doesn’t fucking matter. It’s about what they believe, what they see and you look psychotic on that tape.”

I turn my face from her, grinding my teeth as I search my mind for a way to answer back. To explain.

I can’t. I can’t and it makes me angrier.

“You’re not invincible, Miguel. People get tired of your shit and we agreed. We agreed that if you kept the reins on your issues, it would be enough. You don’t have to come to the gatherings or the holiday meetings. They know you don’t give a shit about any of them-”

“They’re employees.” I interrupt. Their job is to follow my orders and keep smiles on their pretty faces. That is morale.

“Yeah, they’re employees and they don’t get paid enough to deal with your shit.”

My eyes say it all, she knows that’s not true. Their checks are full. My girls have paid off debt, bought houses, taken vacations and bought all their materialistic heart desire. Some within their first year with me. Jessica sighs, shaking her head at my stubbornness. Silence blankets us and I fucking prefer it that way.

“My point is that people can walk, Miguel. They can walk when they aren’t happy. When they read the outsiders input on your bad behavior. Nobody wants to work for an asshole and fuck, I don’t blame her for walking out. Actually, I respect her for it. The girl’s shoes are practically falling off of her feet and she’s wearing skirts in the winter, yet it looks like she’d rather starve on those ice-cold New York City streets than work for someone who spits on her effort and time.”

Her words strike me silent. It seems like Jessica Drew is the only one who can make me have nothing to say. Què maravilla. I won’t admit that it’s because she’s right. She isn’t.

…

She might be.

My silence, it prompts her to continue. She shuts the seat off, groaning as she stands to her feet. She waddles to me, one hand on my cherrywood desk as she bows her head to speak to me.

“Look, I know this shit isn’t easy. I get that. You and I? We’re day ones. Peter and I watched you build this company up from the ground. We watched you make something of yourself. The bastard kid out of Nueva York turned into the bastard man above it. And I- … I lost her too, Miguel. Lost her. I didn’t forget her, and I sure as fuck don’t want to run from her. If someone was so fucking kind enough to put effort into making me that—”

Her eyes glow golden as they fall upon the small tree, on the shattered ornament with that beautiful, delicate smile. My girl. Against my own will, I find myself stuck, gazing at it too.

“Shit, maybe I’d promote them. That? That’s special, it’s kind. Most people don’t have the guts to do that, especially not for a boss— let alone a new one… but as always, you’ve laid down the cement on yet another grave. No chance in hell she comes back, no chance we fix this before Jameson gets his dirty hands on it.”

Jameson. Maldito cerdo.

It was his men that he sent out that day. All of them gathered up on my doorstep like fucking vultures, flashing their lights at the place where my baby girl just— fuck...

He was a lucky son of a bitch that day. I would’ve snapped that cockroach’s neck if it weren’t for Murdock.

Fuck…

I don’t like loose ends. No, I don’t like being wrong. I strive every day of my life to be anything but it. I was wrong once. And look what it cost me? My baby’s life. I won’t make the same mistake again. Not with my company.

Sure as hell not because of the balding bastard and a delicate girl with ribbons in her hair.

No.

“I’ll convince her.” I will. I’ll mail her check with a note attached. An invitation back. Maybe I’ll raise her pay. She could use it, anyway.

But Jessica fucking Drew. Always finding microscopic holes in my plans. She laughs at me.

She fucking laughs at me as she straightens her back, hands resting on the place where her baby kicks.

“Sure, good luck with that. She might’ve hunched over and cried but damn— I saw the way she dug those nails into you. She’s a tough one… besides, I think it’s best If you keep away. Don’t wanna make their new front cover story more interesting.”

Que mierda.

I raise my hand, pinching at the place where tension pools between my brows. Fucking Jessica. Analytical, frustrating, and always convinced she’s right.

She is tough… that girl. Un fuego.

I saw it when she sat in my chair and dug her nails into it, and I saw it when she dug her nails into me. I saw it when she pushed my hand away, straightened up and wiped those tears off her pretty face like they were nothing more than meaningless water on her skin. She turned her back on me. No one ever does. No one has ever not succumbed to my hand. And she’s lucky, I never offer comfort to any of the girls I yell at. No, they don’t need it. They’d accept it, regardless. Not her.

Un enigma.

Jessica sighs, turning from me and finally leaving me to be. Leaving me with no solutions, only loose ends. She must feel my eyes burning holes into her back. Frustrated fucking holes. She stops.

Carajo.

I sigh now, allowing my eyes to fall shut into the comfort of darkness. A place behind my lids where no Jessica Drew exists.

“There’s another gathering tonight, actually. Perfect way to win your people back before you even lose them.”

She’s smiling, she’s proud of her stupid little idea. I don’t need to open my eyes to see it. The ache in my neck makes my head fall into my palms— and though every part of me wants to tell her to get out?

“What time, Jessica?”

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @luvlylaurakisses @to-the-endoftheline @bimb00

#miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel smut #miguel 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara masterlist #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fluff #au!miguel o’hara #spider man 2099 #spider man #across the spiderverse #Spotify

[leiawritesstories]

The Universal Rules of Mistletoe

a fun, hopefully cute, little fluffy fic based off this prompt from @rowaelinprompts "Our friends set us up under the mistletoe"

a gift for @sahana-draws!! happy @rowaelinscourt Rowaelin Secret Santa! it's been so much fun working on this little piece and I really hope you enjoy :))

Word count: 2,054

Warnings: none! (just clueless idiots in love)

Enjoy!

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Fifteen Years Ago

Shiny patent-leather shoes tapping lightly against the hardwood stairs, Aelin hurried downstairs as fast as she could while in her poofy red tulle Christmas dress. Five steps up from the bottom, she stopped, peering across the wide hallway into the main floor of the Galathynius home, which was full of beautifully dressed adults. Her eight-year-old imagination latched onto the sight of her mom and dad with their hands linked, smiling and laughing as they talked with their friends.

She wanted everything they had when she grew up.

Slowly, a little nervously, she moved three more steps down, stopping again as the nervousness flared up in her stomach. This was the first year she had been allowed to come to the Christmas party, and even though her babysitter would be there with her, she wasn't sure if she could do it.

"Hey." Another voice--a boy's voice--interrupted her scattered thoughts. Rowan Whitethorn, the boy from next door whose parents were longtime friends with Aelin's parents, stood on the other side of the staircase railing, looking at her with solemn green eyes. "I like your dress."

"Thanks," she said, smoothing her small hands down the fluffy layers of the skirt. "Mom let me pick it out."

Rowan grabbed two of the stair rails, using them for support as he rose onto his tiptoes to stick his head over the top of the banister. "Are you gonna come to the party?"

"I dunno." She stood on the last step, one hand lingering on the banister. "There's only grown-ups there."

"I'm there too," he said. "Hey, do you wanna play party tag?" Party tag was a game they had invented two years ago, when they were six and seven, during one of the many events Aelin's parents had hosted. Because Rowan and Aelin were so young, they would show up at the event for a bit to be cooed over by all of their parents' rich friends, and then be swept off away from the event. They'd invented a quiet, no-running form of tag where whoever was "it" would have to sneak up on the other person and subtly tag them. Nobody could run, and there had to be at least two minutes between tags.

It was more fun when one of their friends was also at the party, but they made it work with just the two of them.

Aelin cracked a small smile. "Okay." She stood up and stepped off the last stair, and he walked around to stand with her. "Are we gonna go now?"

"Yeah, we--"

"Oh, Enna, look!" Evalin Ashryver Galathynius's voice floated in alongside a cloud of her expensive designer perfume. "Our little ones seem to have found the mistletoe!"

Alarmed, Aelin looked up, finding a small bunch of mistletoe tied with a crimson ribbon hanging from the chandelier above the staircase.

"You know what that means," Enna Whitethorn beamed, setting her champagne flute aside and whipping her phone out of her clutch. "Rowan, darling, do you want to give Aelin a kiss?"

Rowan's whole face turned bright pink. "Do I have to?"

"No," Aelin whispered, blushing just as bright. "It's just a stupid thing the grownups do when there's mistletoe."

"Of course you don't have to," Enna reassured her son. "But it would make such an adorable photo, right Eva?"

"Oh, it would be precious!" Evalin agreed. "Fireheart, will you at least pose there for a minute? Yes, just like that! So cute!" She snapped a few photos in rapid succession as Enna did the same. "Enna, could you get a few of just me and Aelin?"

Relieved, Rowan hurried to stand next to his mother as Evalin came over to Aelin. "You look beautiful, little Fireheart," she said warmly, tidying the big red bow in Aelin's blonde hair. Enna snapped a few photos, and Evalin took Aelin's small hand in hers. "Are you ready to come to the party?"

Eyes wide, Aelin nodded. "Do I have to stay for very long?"

"Just long enough to say hi to a few people." Evalin squeezed her daughter's hand. "I promise. Then you and Nehemia can go have your movie night, right?"

"Uh huh." Aelin straightened her spine, a move she'd seen her mother do endless times. "I'm ready." Quietly, Rowan fell into step next to her, his mother on his other side. And, with her mother on one side and her best friend on the other, Aelin felt a little better about going into the grown-up party.

~

Present

Aelin was halfway through curling her hair, lips held apart while her matte crimson lipstick dried, when a rapid-fire knock drummed against her bathroom door. Before she could respond, the door swung open and Elide Lochan, her second cousin and dear friend, barged into the bathroom.

"I'm not dressed!" Aelin yelped, scrambling to pull her satin robe closed while still holding the curling iron in her other hand.

Elide rolled her eyes. "I can tell, Ae. Don't worry, you still have an hour before anyone is supposed to get here."

"You could've said that before you ran in here like everyone had already showed up," Aelin grumbled. "But thanks, Ells."

"No problem." Elide grinned. "Nice lipstick. Gonna get it all over someone's face tonight?" She wiggled her eyebrows.

Aelin snorted. "Gods, no. I'm the host, not some teenager who can run around all night kissing the boy she has a crush on."

"You're also twenty-three and you work too hard." Elide snatched the curling iron from Aelin's hands and took over curling her hair. "You deserve to have a little fun at your own freaking Christmas party."

"Yeah, sure," Aelin said sarcastically. "Bring me a man to kiss under the mistletoe and we'll see about that."

Elide smirked. "You're on."

An hour later, Aelin headed down the stairs, the same staircase she'd walked down every day since she was a little girl, and paused at the bottom step to take a deep, preparatory breath. You can do this, Galathynius, she told herself silently. Everything was all set up--the dining room table with a charcuterie spread, the silver-and-blue themed Christmas tree in the foyer, the large, open living room adorned with soft twinkle lights and decorative snowflakes and soft music piping in through the speaker system her parents had installed years ago. It's going to be just fine.

The doorbell rang.

Collecting herself, Aelin stepped off the stairs and went to the front door, a gracious smile spreading across her face. Her smile brightened when she found her cousin Aedion and his fiancée, Lysandra, waiting on the front step.

"Merry Christmas, Ae!" Lys squealed, hurrying inside. "Let us in, it's freezing!"

Aelin laughed. "Hi, Lys. I missed you!"

"You wouldn't miss me if you weren't working all the time," Lys teased, hugging Aelin tightly. "That dress looks fantastic, oh my god."

"Thanks," Aelin whispered back. Her crimson silk dress--of course her lipstick matched her dress--had thin straps, an elegantly scooped neckline, and was fitted in the bodice before flaring into a spill of floor-length skirts.

Aedion wrapped his arms around her. "You're not this tall," he teased.

She rolled her eyes. "It's called stiletto heels, genius."

"Sounds dangerous." He winked.

"Only for you boys who don't want to feel short." She laughed. "Hi, Aeds. How's wedding planning going?"

"Do not get me started," he groaned. "I'm so stressed, and our wedding isn't until another seven months away."

"Hey, relax. Have some punch. Just think about Christmas for a while, not the wedding."

"I'll try." He flashed her a grin.

The doorbell rang again, and Aelin opened the door to find four six-foot-plus men crowding her front steps, acting like small children with their elbows everywhere even though they were all at least in their mid-twenties.

"You can't all fit through the door like that," she drawled, beaming.

Fenrys elbowed his way through the others and broke into the house first. "I win!" he crowed, sweeping Aelin into a hug that pulled her off her feet.

"Good grief, Fen, you haven't even had any drinks yet!" she laughed. "Congratulations on winning whatever it is you think you won."

"He thinks it's a competition to get into parties first," Connall, his twin, explained. He affectionately tugged Fen's man bun. "Put the host down, Fenny."

"Don't call me that, you little--" Fen put Aelin down and went after Con, who'd sauntered away into the living room.

"They're all children, I'm sorry." Rowan pulled off his heavy winter jacket and shook the film of snowflakes off his pale hair. "Merry Christmas, Aelin--oh my god." He stared at her for a good long minute, his eyes wide and his jaw slack.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Lorcan drawled, nudging Rowan int he shoulder. He wrapped his own arm around Elide's shoulders; the two of them had been dating for just over a year and Aelin had never seen Elide so happy.

"Merry Christmas, Ro." Aelin restrained her giddy smile and did a little spin to show off her dress. "Thanks for--oh!" Rowan caught her, pulling her into a warm, pine-scented hug.

"You look stunning," he said softly. "I didn't know if I could say that in front of all the others, they'd never shut up about it, probably because they know how much I like you...uh, because we've known each other since..." He trailed off, blushing fiercely.

Shocked, Aelin looked up at him, her thoughts going a mile a minute. "You...me...what?" She shook her head. "I'm going insane. I need a minute--five minutes--I--" Abruptly, she hurried towards the stairs, only managing to get two steps up before Rowan's hand closed gently around her wrist.

"Hey." He stabilized her, his voice as grounding as it had been since they were little kids going to their parents' party for the first time. "I'm sorry, Ae, I didn't mean to scare you."

She turned around. "You didn't scare me, Rowan. You just...you said you like me?"

"I like you, Aelin." Warmth and a smidge of uncertainty flickered in his eyes. "But if you--"

"Stop that right now," she chided softly. "I thought I was always going to like you from the shadows, Ro. I've had a crush on you since we were kids."

It was his turn for stunned silence. "I should have said something years ago," he finally said, chuckling in disbelief. "I guess--"

"MISTLETOE!" Elide all but shrieked, completely shattering the mood. She--and everyone else, good grief--were suddenly piled into the walkway between the foyer and the living room, eagerly watching the couple on the stairs.

Aelin felt her face heat up, and she was on the verge of running upstairs to hide from everyone. Rowan was blushing again, even as he threw a glare that screamed "Traitor!" at Lorcan, who was smirking.

"Looks like you're together under the mistletoe, Ae," Elide repeated, beaming so wide Aelin almost thought her cheeks would split. "You know what that means!"

"That someone set us up?" Aelin asked, suddenly wondering how convenient it was that she and Rowan had had that moment together on the stairs.

Elide shrugged, her eyes bright. "There's universal rules of mistletoe, Aelin, and you're gonna have to follow them."

"We knew it!" Fenrys blurted, unable to control the secret. "Why else would we have gone into the living room as soon as we got here?"

"Fenrys!" came a collective groan.

"We shouldn't have told him," Lorcan half-mumbled, shaking his head but grinning. "Boyo has a bigger mouth than anyone I know."

"I know they're our friends," Aelin whispered to Rowan, grinning, "but I kind of want to kick them all out of my house right now." She looped her arms around his neck. "I want you all to myself."

"Me too, but we can hardly ignore the mistletoe rules." He gave her a secret, quietly joyful little smile. "Can I?"

"Please do." She tipped her head up and met his lips, his kiss soft and sweet and lingering. Completely perfect.

They only separated at the cheers and whoops of their friends, and they came into the party hand in hand, laughing, and hardly left each other's sides all night long, because sometimes, it took the quiet scheming of dear friends to get the couple who was quietly in love with each other to admit it.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #rowaelin #rowaelin secret santa 2023 #rowaelin secret santa #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fluff #shameless holiday fluff

[faetima]

𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐦. .

. . these seven years would be pretty dumb.

// tws ; slight cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au 

a/n: bubble gum by clairo :3

all you could think about was him.

your classmate with light and airy strands of porcelain white hair, akin to the color of an elegant swan’s feathers, all tied together daintily with a single thin vermilion red ribbon.

your classmate with those piercing honey speckled eyes which could see right through you, as if you were translucent.

your classmate who was always dozing off, whatever the reason may be.

your classmate who always managed to appear ethereal somehow, even after just sleeping.

your classmate, jing yuan.

you doubted he ever noticed you. he was always either dozing off quietly or caught up in chatting with fu xuan.

oh, you realized he was doing the latter right now.

fu xuan — more commonly known around the school as diviner fu — gazed up at jing yuan with her amber eyes, a serious shimmer in them. her lilac pink hair was divided into two neatly made ponytails, secured by four golden ji hairpins. they glinted in the bright, blaring fluorescence of the lights in the classroom.

jing yuan leaned down and she murmured something in his ear.

he returned to his usual standing position, now also wearing the same serious expression fu xuan was.

jing yuan glanced around the room, ochre eyes flitting.

you stared at him, curious.

his eyes landed on you, narrowing.

surprised, you panicked.

oh god. looking down would make it obvious i was staring at him. i could keep looking at his direction and pretend that i was looking at soemthing else? but what if he thinks i was looking at him? what the fuck do i do? oh, wait, he looked away.

never mind, he’s coming towards me.

oh fuck he’s coming towards me.

oh fuck. ohfuck. ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck-

"hey," jing yuan said, voice deep and a bit rough. he smiled slightly at you, immediately sending off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

"oh. uhm, hi," you greeted, your voice light and airy, nervousness bubbling up. you had been a shy person all your life, and your crush randomly coming up and talking with you did not help in easing your nervousness.

jing yuan glanced back at fu xuan, who shook her head furiously at him, signaling something to jing yuan you were unaware of. he rolled his eyes, but decided to comply with her.

"sorry for, uhm, bothering you. i was just wondering if you had the notes we were supposed to copy down today? i kind of fell asleep, and fu xuan doesn’t have them, so i was wondering if you did," he mumbled, an excuse for why he came over to you.

"oh, uh, yeah, i have them," you said, rummaging in your backpack to find your notes. pulling them out, you handed them over to jing yuan.

"thanks," he smiled, "i’ll return them to you tomorrow if that’s okay?"

you nodded.

he nodded.

then he walked away.

you probably should’ve tried talking to him a bit more. maybe make small talk. oh, god, but what if he started thinking you were interested in him if you did that? that you were trying too hard?

yeah , you convinced yourself, mustering up an excuse for your own cowardice. maybe it was better you hadn’t.

--

you had gotten back home from school. setting your backpack aside, you immediately made a beeline for your room.

as soon as you shut and locked the door, you began hacking up fuchsia and créme colored bleeding hearts was how you spent most of your time now.

every night after dinner, or the few bites of food you ate that you thought as dinner now, you'd go to bed with your dove-white sheets pulled up to your neck and with burgundy blood and toxic red bleeding hearts pooled around you.

every morning, you’d wake up wondering if today would be the day he'd finally notice you, if he'd finally know you existed. of course, you knew it was just wishful thinking, but you still craved for him to notice you, to talk to you for more than ten seconds.

and thinking about him lead to wheezing up even more bleeding hearts. all stained vermillion with blood and slick with mucus.

it was the the same cycle over and over again. rinse and repeat.

how you yearned for it to end. but you knew the cycle — and your hanahaki — could only end in one way at this point — death.

you had discovered that you had hanahaki a little too late. now you couldn’t do the surgery without the abnormally big chance of dying.

if you were to die either way, what was the point of doing the surgery then?

--

your hanahaki had gotten worse over the last few weeks.

now you coughed up whole bleeding hearts, coated and stained so much in your blood to the point where the original color of the flowers was unrecognizable.

now you wheezed the damned flowers whenever you fucking laid your damn eyes on him . now you avoided looking up from your seat even more than you used to.

now you hacked up the fucking flowers to the point where you would fucking blackout.

now you wanted to die. wanted to be put out of your damn misery.

--

you wished you could talk to him, but every time you began to walk up to him, you overthought everything and backed out like the coward you were.

it was like you were trapped in some sort of time loop from a horror movie — only instead of running away from something terrifying, this was more of a endless cycle of you wanting to talk to him but never doing so, one that you didn't quite know how to escape.

maybe, just maybe you should try and talk to him.

..

maybe tomorrow.

#jing yuan x reader #♡ -- jing yuan #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #hanahaki #hanahaki au #modern #modern au #angst #hanahaki disease #light angst #high school #shy reader #tw slight blood #how to angst #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai #what to tag pls

[velvethana]

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ 🐚 Pearl. ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི ་ ༘࿐

-‘๑’- wc 6k ✦ fluff ➔ composed for choi beomgyu.

"Hello? Did you hear anything I just said?"

You opened your eyes, the sun blaring in your face. Turning slightly, you recognize the familiar voice and match it to the face in front of you. Chaewon sat, snapping her fingers in your face.

“Sorry," you said. "What were you saying?"

You were sat between Chaewon and Yunjin on the beach, spread out lazily lounging around on beach towels.

The guys were out messing around in the water.

The sun blaring in your eyes wasn’t worth the hassle of trying to catch a glimpse.

Despite how early it had been in the hang out, you already felt yourself beginning to feel sun-sick. The hangover from the night before certainly didn’t help either.

It was eighty-seven degrees already, and it was just the after noon so you were sure that it would get even hotter as the hangout progressed.

When the summer vacation had started with your friends, you were already counting the days until it ended.

It wasn’t that you weren’t a fan of it, you definitely weren’t against the parties and the guys but you had your studies back at home that you wanted to get back to.

Now that the summer was ending, though, you wished that time would come to a slow.

“I said, what are you going to wear to Heeseung’s party?" Chaewon repeated.

She'd lined your towels up close, so that was like the two of you were on one big towel. Despite you arguing that she would block your sun, she simply winked at you.

She rolled onto her stomach to be face-to-face with you, placing your chin in her hands.

"I don't know," you said, shielding your eyes from the sun once again.

She had tiny sweat beads on her nose and she hummed for a moment as if in deep thought.

She said, "I'm going to wear that new sundress I bought with Kura at the outlet from the boardwalk."

You closed your eyes again, swallowing the dry lump in your throat. Since you were wearing sunglasses, she couldn't tell if your eyes were open or not anyway.

“Which one?"

"You know, the cute one with the pink ribbon that ties around the neck. I showed it to you, like, two days ago." Chaewon let out an impatient little sigh as you gave her a sheepish smile.

"Oh, yeah," you said but you could tell that she knew you still didn’t remember.

“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” A familiar mischievous smirk grew on her face and you opened your eyes just to roll them.

“Is Kura coming to the party?” You asked, attempting to change the subject.

“Nope,” she said popping the ‘p’ sound. “Says she’s too busy for it.”

“Well, I don’t blame her. Last time she came she had to hold back Yuri’s hair… not a fun time.”

You hummed in response, recalling the night. Heeseung’s parties were mainly just an accumulation of all the random early 20 somethings visiting for the summer looking for free drinks, it wasn’t unusual for someone to have one too many.

“You know, Beomgyu is going to be there…” her voice trailed off into a whistle and you sent a glare her way, sitting up.

“I’m not thinking about him. Plus, Jake is the one who invited me. Wouldn’t it be rude if I hung out with another guy?”

Chaewon’s eyes trailed behind you, widening a bit before she shook her head and smiled at you again. “I’m sure Jake wouldn’t mind, he’s a dog anyways he wouldn’t care.”

“A dog? Nice, Chae.” You snickered, causing her to rapidly wave her hands in front of her in defense.

“I meant in a golden retriever way! If anything, he’d probably be happy for you.”

“Right…”

You started to say something else, something nice about the usual crowd you saw at the parties or even an excuse of being ‘too tired’ from the bonfire last night but suddenly felt ice-cold aluminum sticking to the back of your neck.

You let out a yelp as you quickly turned around, shooing away in whatever direction the cold can came from.

In turning, you came face-to-face with Yeonjun, crouched down next to you with a dripping Coke can in his hand, laughing his head off.

You glared at him, wiping off your neck. You were starting to get sick of him and his friends entirely considering how much they occupied your mind— and days in general.

“What the hell, Yeonjun?”

He was still laughing, which made you even more annoyed as you pushed yourself to stand up, shoving his shoulder.

“God, you're so immature."

"But you looked really hot," he protested. "I was trying to cool you off!”

Chaewon and Yunjin laughed at this, Yunjin turning fully to face the commotion.

“Nice one, Yeonjun. Very smooth.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm and he flashed her a charming smile.

You didn't answer him, placing your hand on the back of your neck. Your jaw began to feel really tight, and you could feel all the other girls staring at you expectantly.

Yeonjun’s flirting was just a part of being his friend, after all. Everyone knew that it wasn’t necessarily targeted, though he did always say that you were his favorite to mess with so that could be debatable in your eyes.

And then Yeonjun’s smile slightly slipped away and he said, "Sorry. You want this Coke?"

You shook your head, and he shrugged before retreating back over to the water.

Yunjin shook her head, turning her attention back to the magazine she was flipping through. “Guys never learn…”

As she trailed off, you felt blood rush to your face out of embarrassment. Normally you would entertain his flirting, hell sometimes you were even the one to initiate it, but the past few days all you could focus on was him.

It was annoying, really. Yeonjun and you were always playful together but over this summer specifically, things seemed to change. Now all you wanted to do was talk to his friend but it seemed like he was ignoring you for some reason.

Still, your annoyance with his friend being taken out on him was less than fair and you knew it.

Being mean to Yeonjun was like being mean to a puppy. There was just no sense in it and you’d just feel bad afterwards. Too late, you tried to catch Yeonjun’s eye, but he didn't look back at you.

Chaewon sighed, “always tearing men apart. Aren’t you, Y/N?” She asked in a low voice.

You lay back down on your towel, this time face up hoping to hide the regret on your face.

You took a deep breath and let it out, slowly. The music from Kazuha’s phone was giving you a headache from the volume.

Chaewon leaned over and pushed up your sunglasses so she could see your eyes. She peered at you with concerned eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's just too hot out here." You wiped sweat off your forehead with the back of your arm.

"Don't be embarrassed. Yeonjun can't help being an idiot around you, he likes you."

"Yeonjun doesn't like me," you said, looking away from her.

It was obvious that you were trying to convince yourself.

Yeonjun did sort of like you, in the same way a boy likes his favorite toy. You were well aware of the fact that he liked you: you just wished he didn’t.

"Sure, he's totally into you. Just like Jongho, just like Shotaro. I still think you should give at least one of them a chance. It'll take your mind off of you-know-who."

You turned your head away from her and she said, "How about I do your makeup for the party tonight? I can use that cute pink glitter you liked last time!”

The idea of getting ready with Chaewon was comforting, even if you weren’t too keen on going anyways. “Sure.”

"What are you going to wear?"

You shrugged before noticing she had begun scrolling through her phone. Realizing that she hadn’t seen, you replied.

"I'm not sure."

Chaewon nodded, eyebrows knitted tightly together as if the decision was a crucial one.

"Well, you have to look cute because everybody's gonna be there," Chaewon said.

You had caught onto her emphasis of the word ‘everyone’ but decided not to comment on it.

"I'll come over early and we can get ready together." You nodded, closing your eyes once again with a deep sigh.

The bonfire casted a warm glow against the darkening sky, flickering flames dancing in the cool evening air.

You sat, Jisung’s arm draped around your shoulder as you downed another drink. Despite the close contact, everyone was well aware that the two of you weren’t together.

For the most part, everyone knew that you were single. You had made it very clear, despite your constant flirting that you weren’t looking for a relationship in the slightest— hell, usually when the summers would end you’d completely go ghost on everyone to return to your normal life.

What happens in Busan stays in Busan and all that nonsense.

Amidst the lively chatter and laughter, you had noticed a boy chatting with Yeonjun, silhouette illuminated by the fire's light as he fiddled with the a camera in his hands.

You’d seen him plenty of times before but never managed to talk to him by yourself, usually getting wrapped up in conversations with Yeonjun and his other friend, Kai.

Shrugging off Jisung’s shoulder you gave him a quick excuse, though he was too immersed in his conversation to even notice.

“Yeonjun! Who’s this?” You asked, stumbling a bit as you plopped yourself onto the log next to them.

Yeonjun’s eyes widened a bit at your suden appearance but he quickly eased into it, pulling his friend into him with a proud smile.

“Choi Beomgyu! Choi Beomgyu, this is Busan’s dear party girl, Y/N.”

“Beomgyu. Just Beomgyu.” The guy gave you a smile, though all you could focus on was his hair at the moment and how soft it looked.

“Not property of Busan, Yeonjun. I just come through sometimes…”

“Right. Y/N here is our summer storm.”

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, “summer storm?”

“Every summer, returning to break boys hearts.” Suddenly, the idea of boasting about your reputation filled you with embarrassment.

You shook your head, letting out a forced laugh. “He’s joking! Obviously.”

“In other news, I haven’t seen you around much. Are you new here?” Beomgyu nodded.

“I guess you could say that. I usually come with Yeonjun and the others, just not big on the whole party scene.”

Yeonjun let out a dramatic wail, “poor guy stays in the vacation house the entire time. I tell him it’s no way to spend the summer but he never listens!”

The idea of spending the summer inside their vacation home did sound painfully dreadful— not that it was a bad home or anything, you’d been over a few times to hangout with Yeonjun and Soobin but it was fairly small to fit all four of them— or five now, you suppose.

The idea that there had been another guy with them the entire time that you never met made you the slightest bit annoyed at Yeonjun for not introducing you, especially considering how cute he was.

“I get it, a fellow introvert.” You said as Yeonjun gave you a bewildered look. “Fellow? You’re the least introverted person I know.”

Upon noticing the glare you gave him, Yeonjun’s mouth quickly reverted to his normal pout before he let out a hum of realization.

When people called you a chameleon, you always thought it was a bit funny. Although it was true in some ways with how you would change and shape yourself to match those around you.

The nickname didn’t bother you, though the scaled animal itself was less than appealing to be compared to.

“Regardless,” you started. “I can respect it. Sometimes it's nice to escape the chaos, you know?”

Beomgyu nodded before a small, playful smirk grew on his face, looking up at you. “Summer storms bring chaos wherever they go though, don’t they?”

The heat that you felt rush to your face had you clearing your throat before letting out an embarrassed laugh, reminding yourself to punch Yeonjun for calling you that later.

“R-Right…”

It must have been obvious that Beomgyu had you flustered because Yeonjun snickered before excusing himself, rushing back to the bonfire, probably to gossip about whatever was going on with the two of you with their friends.

“It's quieter over here, at least.” He said, taking a drink from the cup he was holding.

You wanted to ask what he was drinking but it seemed to just be water.

“Well, what's your story then? What do you do when you're not dodging party invitations?”

Beomgyu shrugs, tilting his head slightly. You notice how his hair frames his face so perfectly and again, you find yourself fighting the urge to brush it out of his face.

“Mostly just listen to or make music. And you?” Your eyes widened a bit at the idea of him making music.

Throughout your years visiting, you’d surely met hundreds of guys who claimed to be musicians.

Some were surely better than others but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes after the third time. Claiming to be a musician just felt like the oldest trick in the book now.

Despite this, you found yourself interested in Beomgyu’s music specifically as you shuffled closer slightly. As if it would somehow serve to let you know more about him.

“Oh, you know, the usual. Hanging out with friends, smoothies and açaí bowls… hitting up every party within a ten-mile radius and waking up with the worst headache ever thanks to Soobin’s mystery concoctions.“

Beomgyu gave you a look as if to ask if you were crazy, “I wouldn’t put anything in my body that Soobin makes. That’s your first mistake.”

A genuine laugh slipped and you shook your head, leaning in as you held eye contact with him. Unlike you expected him to, he didn’t seem to shy away from you.

Most strangely, you found that you couldn’t read him at all.

It stayed like that for a while.

“Let’s take a picture together! To preserve this memory. To new friends, right?”

“Sure. To new friends.”

That moment it felt as though the hands of time stood stilll; Beomgyu and his camera smile— a flash of something real.

Your heart fluttered at the click of the camera’s shutter, and that was it.

The two of you talked until the evening, agreeing to meet again once the sun came up.

You knew that you would be hungover and dreaded the idea of getting up early but decided to deal with it to spend more time with him.

And so you met up once more, traveling down the beach’s trail as the moon came out for awhile; the trail lights glowing warmly creating a halo around him.

He’d offer to take a photo and you’d gladly pose for him, grateful that he wanted to remember you.

With each click of the camera, the clock would pause and resume its ticking with your heart on the dial.

Beomgyu had agreed to come out to more parties for the promise of seeing you and you found yourself searching for him at every function.

The two of you began to emerge during each other’s off hours simply to connect as often as you could, summer’s clock ticking away.

There were a few whispers about you and your new ‘boy toy’ but you couldn’t find it in you to entertain them like all the times before.

Something about him grabbed you, genuinely, for the first time in years. Anytime you thought that you had nailed him down he seemed to surprise you again.

Your ‘Mr. Mysterious’ quickly became ‘Mr. Perfect’ in your mind and as embarrassing as it was, you found yourself checking your phone often for his texts.

Despite your seemingly contrasting personalities, you felt a genuine connection spark, conversations somehow flowing effortlessly.

And that’s how you found yourself completely overthinking everyday leading up to the end of summer.

The idea of going from talking to and seeing Beomgyu everyday to not at all was sickening to you.

Something you never worried about before, the mere idea of him forgetting about you made you nauseous.

Though, you were far too prideful to ever truly admit that to someone, it was fairly obvious to everyone around you with how your behavior had changed.

Rejecting any and all advances toward you, instead opting to look for that familiar head of brown hair and finding yourself waiting for him.

Impatient as always, you’d stand with your arms crossed tapping your feet in annoyance at the curious glances thrown your way but the second he would show up, the biggest smile would make its’ way onto your face as the world melted away.

You wondered if he himself had noticed that change or if he thought that was just how you were.

Saving yourself and your time for him, precious nights spent partying without a care in the world had turned into nights focusing only on him. Or alternatively, your nights being ruined when he didn’t show.

The rest of the summer seemed to fly by quickly, regardless of how agonizingly slow it felt waiting for him to make a move.

There were times when you were sure it would be it, quiet moments in the car before he had dropped you off at home. Your breath hitched as he looks at you from behind his glasses, only for him to smile and give you a ‘get home safe.’

That was the last night you had seen him, a week and a day ago. You would be embarrassed of how long you had been keeping count if you weren’t upset by it.

In the end though, you guessed that was what you got for waiting around for some guy.

“Y/N, you’re spacing out again.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry.” Kazuha laughed as she turned back to the mirror, applying her lip gloss.

“You know, even if Beomgyu doesn’t show up I’m sure Yeonjun will.”

“Beomgyu will show up!” Chaewon cheered, pausing for a moment while she applied your eyeliner.

She must have noticed that her voice came off much too certain as everyone in the room gave her a confused look.

She laughed nervously before continuing. “I-I mean… I asked Yeonjun and he said he was going, so…”

“Right.” Yunjin said, drawing it out as she straightened out her bangs.

“You said he hasn’t answered you in a while, right?” Eunchae asked from the doorway, shoveling spoonfuls of fruit loops into her mouth.

“Uh… yeah.” Your voice was quiet and it was obvious that you were embarrassed about it.

“Want me to send a pipe bomb to his house?” She asked, eyes cast down as she scooped up more cereal.

Chaewon paused to slowly turn to Eunchae who shrugged, causing you to laugh and relax the slightest bit.

“I don’t think blowing up Y/N’s boy of the week is good for the singles’ economy. Who knows, he might come back in the cycle.”

“I don’t care if he shows up, anyway.” Kazuha and Yunjin silently shared a knowingly glance.

Chaewon frowned, fixated on the glitter she was applying to your eyelid.

Eunchae smiled, dimples showing as she shook her head. “He totally got you, didn’t he?”

A part of you wanted to deny it, but the silence that fell over the room with soft music playing from the speakers was enough to tell you that there was no point anymore.

No matter how many times you’d argue, swinging like a pendulum between yes and no— you’d always reach the same conclusion.

You always wondered if the mind answered to the heart. The way it always conjured up things that weren’t there. The prizes he won for you at the boardwalk’s arcade and the way he held your hands in his as he tried to teach you to play some dumb shooting game.

You didn’t pay attention to the screen and he laughed with you focused on him being so close.

There was never a chance for you to try and change how you acted around him, he saw right through it.

Maybe that was the reason you found meaning behind everything he did when it came to you.

How he plagued your mind like a disease, invading your space like some irritating bug you couldn’t quite catch.

And you could never place what was so different about him compared to everyone else you had talked to. Something about being with him felt like being home, somehow.

So despite the growing irritation, you would wait until summer’s end.

Wanting the mirage knowing it will never be enough.

But your heart doesn’t have eyes and the mind cannot resist when it asks.

You sighed. “Maybe he did.”

The beach house party was already irritating to you once you arrived. The girls kept together as they all went to get drinks and you set off on your own.

And even though you swore it wasn’t to go find your pest of a guy friend that you may or may not have had a tiny crush on, it was obvious that no one believed you.

The party had been loud and crowded like all the ones before but now the mass amount of sweaty people just irked you and dancing seemed far less appealing.

Maybe you had finally gotten over the scene and preferred something much more down to earth and personal.

It made you sad in a way, but you chalked it up to the fact that things always change.

Only the golden sand stretching outside into the horizon provided comfort as you peered out to the waves through the pane of glass.

Torches outside lined the perimeter and flickering flames adding a warm glow to the gathering as a few stragglers hung outside.

The sliding glass doors blurred the boundaries between the inside and outside and you felt drawn to the deck, eventually giving up on searching for Beomgyu.

Considering he hadn’t been answering your messages anyways, you assumed he wouldn’t bother talking to you even if he was there.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called for you and before you could turn, a heavy arm found its way around your shoulder as the guy practically dropped into your lap.

“…Soobin?” You gave him a confused look. The two of you had talked tons of times but you wouldn’t consider you particularly close.

He also wasn’t one to play into your usual flirting so for him to, quite literally, throw himself at you was strange.

“Yeah, yeah!”

“Are you… okay?” There wasn’t much concern in your voice. After all, you’d seen Soobin drink a fair amount of times and he seemed to handle the morning after well enough so you figured he’d be fine.

“Yeah! Yeah, I was looking for you.”

“For me?” Now, there was a bit of concern in your voice. A small part of you nagged at you for being so selfish but you brushed it to the back of your mind.

“Yeahhh…”

“Why?”

He hummed, raising an eyebrow at you with puffed out cheeks. As cute as he was, you were already beginning to feel a little annoyed.

Curse you for being sober.

Gently, you reached out, pinching his cheeks where his dimples were. “Spit it out?”

“Oh! Yeahh, Beomgyu’s looking for you.” At this, your eyes seemed to light up and betray you as Soobin’s smile grew even wider, taking notice.

The deck was adorned with string lights and colorful lanterns that must have begun blurring together for Soobin as he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

Knowing the feeling all too well, you let out a sigh. “Stay here, I’ll get you some water.”

Standing up, you gently pushed him off of you and he frowned.

“What about Beomgyu?” His voice called over to your retreating form.

You let out a huff as you waved a hand back towards him dismissively. “What about him!”

As you made your way back inside, lounge furniture was scattered throughout as guests were spread all over.

A makeshift bar was set up in one corner, stocked with an array of cocktails and chilled beverages. When you reached the table, grabbing a cup and sharply turning to make your way to the kitchen a body suddenly blocked you.

“Y/N!” Looking up, you sighed with relief.

“Jake, hi.”

“You’re not drinking?” He asked, motioning to the empty cup in your hand as he held his between his lips.

Ignoring the way he had asked as if he was genuinely shocked at the idea, you shook your head.

“Maybe later. Right now I’m getting water for a completely wasted Soobin.” Jake nodded, gently guiding you by your arm to move behind him as someone shoved the two of you.

He gave them a glare before returning to you with kind eyes. “Don’t let me stop you then. I just wanted to let you know that Beomgyu’s been looking for you.”

It was almost like the mention of his name alone gave you a headache with the way you audibly groaned.

“Thanks, Jake.” You said with a thin smile, pushing past him as he gave you a confused look.

Finally reaching the kitchen after a few minutes that felt like ages, you filled the cup with ice and water before returning to Soobin.

Stepping through the glass door once more, you saw the all too familiar back of a head.

“Beomgyu,” You started.

“Hey, Y—”

“Y/N!” Soobin cheered, pulling Beomgyu in close to him and pointing. “Y/N’s here! You were looking for her and now you’re here. Both— you’re both here. My favorite couples here!”

“Not a couple.” The two of you said in unison.

Even though you had said it as well, you couldn’t help but feel upset by how quick he responded. How hypocritical.

Soobin looked between the two of you before groaning, taking the cup out of your hands and downing it.

“AH— Ice water? Are you trying to kill me?”

You shrugged, sitting on the opposite side of Soobin from Beomgyu.

“I was hoping the cold would shock your nervous system back to normal and factory reset you or something.”

Soobin paused for a minute before nodding. “Very smart. I admire woman in stem.”

“Don’t you mean women?” Beomgyu asked, amused.

Soobin just shook his head.

“Why did you drink so much anyway?” You asked.

It wasn’t like Soobin was a prude when it came to drinking but more often than not, him and Kai were the sober ones of their friend group. At least, unless they were celebrating something.

“Wowww, I am so glad you asked.” Soobin motioned from you to Beomgyu, leaning back slightly.

“Take it away.” He said, only for Beomgyu to shoot him a look that you couldn’t exactly read.

Soobin deadpanned at the silence before letting out a huff, pushing himself up clumsily and stretching. “I am.. celebrating!” He raised his arms up for only a moment before they dropped to his sides.

“You,” he started pointing at Beomgyu. “Do the thing. I’m outta here.”

With that, he stumbled away to go find Kai. You furrowed your eyebrows at the fact that he had basically just thrown you to the wolves but decided to chalk it up to the fact that he was inebriated.

“So…” Beomgyu began to trail off and you huffed, arms wrapping around yourself for comfort.

If he had asked, you were just cold.

“You haven’t answered me in a week. That’s kind of a dick move— actually, no. Not kind of. It is a dick move. You’re a dick, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu let out an exasperated sigh and you opened your mouth to berate him before he nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Expecting him to argue back, his lack of defense made your annoyed expression morph into one of confusion.

“…Huh.”

“I was a dick,” he started. “I should have answered you, there’s no reason for me to not have. I think I just needed some time to myself after getting burnt out from going out so often and I got caught up in my own world. I’m sorry.”

His response was clear and communicative and you found yourself feeling embarrassed for trying to start an argument. Because he wasn’t like any other guy you had talked to and you seemed to forget that.

“I’m sorry for being rude.” He shook his head and smiled.

“You just missed me, right? You have a reason to be hurt.”

The familiar feeling of your chest tightening made you clear your throat. “As if…”

Beomgyu laughed. “Alright. You missed my camera, then?” He asked, holding up the camera he had in his lap.

You hadn’t even noticed it throughout Soobin’s antics but now that it was in front of you, your eyes became fixated on it.

“Maybe just you.” You muttered, putting your hand over his and pushing the camera back to his lap gently.

“Knew it.”

“Don’t get cocky.” You said with a huff, finally meeting his eyes, not even realizing that he moved closer in Soobin’s absence.

“I couldn’t. Never with you. You keep me humble.”

With him sitting in front of you, eyes as warm as always you found him only confirming what you were afraid of.

You didn’t just love Beomgyu, you were in love with him.

“I think I hated being away from you more than anything. Like, ever.” Beomgyu paused for a moment before nodding.

“Me too.”

You shook your head, “well it didn’t seem like it.”

“I think missing you was easier for me because of all the pictures of you I have.“ Your breath almost caught in your throat at the comment, imagining him hanging up the photos he had taken on each of your outings in his room like precious memories.

“I forgot that just because I got to see you everyday, that didn’t mean you could see me. Sorry, Y/N.”

And it was true. Despite your bugging Beomgyu much preferred to be behind a camera than in front of it and you didn’t want to bother him so eventually you had stopped asking.

All you had was one shaky photo of Beomgyu next to your drunk self, both of you giving a thumbs up. An embarrassing photo that you would rather take to your grave than make your lockscreen for all to see.

“You better make it up to me. Summer’s already ending, you know…” your voice trailed off and he could sense the hurt behind your words as you pulled your knees closer to your chest.

Despite the loud music from inside and the few stray party goers outside with you both, the moment felt way too intimate for your liking.

“You’re right. We’ll just have to make the most of it, right?”

Another annoyed sigh came from you and you turned, cheek pressed against your knee as you glared up at him.

“So, you excited to get back home to your girlfriend?” Beomgyu raised an eyebrow at you.

“My… girlfriend? Y/N, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

You groaned, “then why haven’t you asked me?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper and you were sure that he didn’t even hear you. Before you could try and backtrack, he chuckled.

“God, you’re impatient aren’t you?” Straightening back up, you gawked at him.

“Me?! Impatient? I’ve been waiting, like, all summer!”

“I meant right now,” he said mindlessly combing through his camera’s gallery.

Eventually he stopped, turning it to you. On the small screen, fuzzy and dark was the photo of the two of you that first night you had met only illuminated by the fire nearby.

Before you could ask him why he was showing you that, he cut you off.

“I had to ask Yeonjun beforehand. Since I’m such a good friend.” His voice was teasing as you rolled your eyes.

“And before you deny him liking you, I already know that he did.” You reminded yourself to curse at yourself later for being so predictable.

“Anyway, he was cool about it so I just had to think over how I wanted to tell you how I felt.”

“How you felt?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I think the best ways for me to communicate are through music and pictures, so I wanted to do something with those.” He let out an irritated huff before gently handing you his camera, your eyes still fixated on the photo of you both.

Shuffling through his side bag, he pulled out a folder. It was a normal white folder but on it was small doodles of bears and other animals. It was cutesy, not what you were expecting, but cute.

“But, I don’t have access to any of my recording stuff here so I figured the pictures would have to do.”

You hesitated for a moment to open the folder before he nudged you. Gently, you opened it up and slid out the photos. They were physical prints of all the photos he had taken of you and the one you had taken together.

“I think that the best pictures are ones we take of the people we love.” He said, voice a bit quieter than before as if not to scare you.

The kindness in his words hit you and the weight held behind them made you almost want to cry as you were reminded all over again.

You loved Beomgyu.

And you almost wished that you never did because loving him was like being ten years old again, scaling a tree with your eyes bright and skyward as the sun shined down on you, wanting only to get higher and higher, without a thought of how you would get back down.

Because the comfort in knowing he would be there to catch you if you fell was worlds more painful than the idea of falling at all.

Falling into the realization that if you were to lose him and the summer, a whole universe would go along with him.

In changing yourself for every guy that you’d talked to, entering stages for some momentary fun only to leave in the morning and forget once summer ended, you picture all your other selves, standing in line like a row of dominoes; separate but part of the same disjointed whole.

None of them felt like you, not anymore. Not when he saw right through you like this.

Yet, how could you hold a single one accountable when all you wanted was to be loved?

The realization for Beomgyu had come much too soon for his liking. Almost as if he had fallen face first into love, simultaneously knocking the air out of him while helping him see things much clearer.

How much easier it got for him to imagine you as a young girl. To think about your worn-out heart, breaking for the things you couldn't hold on to such as childhood pets and toys. The wish that he had met you sooner, if only to love you for longer.

The moment that the realization had come, the flash had hit you as he stared at you through the view finder. Your prettiest smile through his lens, he could somehow taste the salt of the sea when you both were miles inland.

Whenever you were together, the ocean felt like a fractured memory of when you had first met.

Your reputation never mattered to him, everyone had something they were known for. Who you were in front of his camera: he believed in that version of you. He loved that version of you.

He loved you.

And in the moments where you would slip, showing some sign of sincerity with your soft spoken words and your gentle glances, he had always known.

How you threw yourself blindly at the world and its people, hoping that it would always open its arms up to you and find you a home.

You weren’t some disastrous storm wreaking havoc— he found a pearl a much more suitable comparison. Like the ones you would look for on every beach, the place you felt most at home.

A pearl. Soft and sensitive to the world around it, yet as beautiful as the ocean it made its’ home.

-‘๑’- return to music box. ➔ masterlist.

#ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི​ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི song selected ✦ now playing: pearl. ࣪˖ #ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི​ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི song credits ✦ written for: choi beomgyu. ࣪˖ #⭒ extras [🪞] #txt scenarios #txt x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #happy birthday beomgyu!

[tweetiescookie]

Fearless Love ~ B.N

Summary - You were the first person to show that Black Noir could be loved and cared for too

Warnings: Smutish towards the end but other than that none

Requested - No

Word count: 676

You knew at that moment that something was corrupt when you walked into the seven tower but it was worth it meeting him. Even though you so desperately wanted to run up there and hug him when you saw he was crying you stopped yourself.

He had an aura that screamed danger and was known as Voughts attack dog but you were the first person to look past that. When the both of you first met it was when you were introduced as the new member. You had caught his eye at first which led to regular runs to fast food restaurants and daily mental health talks.

When pictures of you two started to surface on the internet Vought pushed you guys to say you both were dating. However, that didn’t stop you from having a friendship and hopefully more in the future.

When you found out that he stopped celebrating his birthday ever since he turned 18 and was hired by Vought you almost went crazy. Right then and there you wanted to throw a big party but he didn’t want that so you just stuck with a party between you and him. At first, he was surprised and then he was happy but he was even happier when you brought out a cake and presents.

The first present was a brand new katana you brought when you saw his other sword was getting old and feeble. The other present was wrapped and tied with a ribbon which sparked his interest more.He froze when opened the present. It was starting to worry you a little bit but then he suddenly hugged you making you hug him back.

It was a Buster Beaver plushie that you had custom-made for him with the original design. He finally realized how much he loved you to the point where it hurt his stomach. You had caught his heart when you showed him how much you cared for him ( you swear that you could see hearts coming out of him).

Buster and his friend started to dot on about you and tell him that he should reveal his feelings to you before it was too late. Noir started to plan on how the perfect time to do this.

When the time came he took you to the places you had always wanted to go to but were too busy. Then he guided you to a picnic blanket by a tree and that was when he finally told you his real feelings (after lots of self-encouragement).

Now you two were happily together and living in the same secret apartment that Vought doesn’t know about. Both of you guys decided to go at a slow pace for now but sometimes pick up the speed. Earving was an amazing lover both in and out of bed.

Loving and cherishing your body like he wanted to ever since he met you at that team meeting.

Earving was an impressive size pleasing you in all different ways and places worshipping your body in the most loving way possible. At first he would go slow and then pick up the pace hitting in all the right spots. You would mewl and whine when he would hit your cervix turning you into a cockdumb whore.

Your go-to position would be the mating press every time and you swore he was trying to get you pregnant. His cock would position into you picking up the pace when you came to your climax ramming his tip into you with every hard thrust. And when he came his load filled you up to the point it spilled out of you and onto the bed making a mess.

Don't even get me started on the aftercare he would treat you so gently and prepare a bath filled with water and rose petals. Noir would even go to the closest deli market to get your favorite snacks.

#the boys x reader #black noir #black noir x reader #smutish

[authurials]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ... 3/3

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 . finally, in the aftermath of your wedding, you and harwin can start to work towards the future you both deserve

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 . one / two

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 . 18+ situations, oral sex (female receiving), slight breeding kink

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . the finale of my three part harwin miniseries is here! i do intend to write for harwin again eventually but i want to focus in on my longer fanfic works (most of which are aemond centric) so for now our strong man is being put on the shelf. remember to like, comment and reblog if you enjoy reading! do not repost/claim as your own please

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 of the finest Dornish wine on your tongue and laughter on your lips, you leaned over to give your husband yet another kiss; you would never get tired of that word–husband. The sound of it inside your mind, and as it came out of your mouth, brushed the corners of your psyche with its delicious implication. Harwin was finally your husband; you couldn’t help but smile against the scruff of his beard at the thought, fingers reaching up to tug on the loose curls of his hair as you pulled away with a content sigh.

“You are happy then, my wife?” Harwin chuckled, rubbing your noses together before reaching for another kiss.

Wife–that was right; you were as much Harwin’s wife as he was your husband–two souls intertwined like the twin ribbons of a braid; tonight you had been joined together as one with the Seven and your families bearing witness, and now they all had come to celebrate the union with a small feast. Your fathers and Larys were present, of course, but after the ceremony friends of yours and Harwin’s had joined to partake in the celebration. You all sat around the long wooden table in Lyonel’s apartments, a spread of food and drink laid before you by his servants–nothing too extravagant but enough to fill your stomachs and wet the tongue.

“I am very happy,” you confirm.

“Good, I would never see you weary again,” Harwin smiled warmly.

Blushing, you looked away and reached for your cup of wine, taking a sip as you tried to still your beating heart. Now that Harwin and you no longer had to hide what lay between you, a part of you did not know what to do with yourself. Surely enough this union did make things a lot simpler, but what if you had no idea what it meant to be in the public eye? Even now, you felt everyone’s eyes on the pair of you as the feast went on.

“Congratulations, good sister,” Larys nodded his head towards you; he was to the left of the table, sitting beside Harwin as he lifted his goblet of drink in toast to you. “A pity that we will be unable to see our own union through-”

“Larys,” Lyonel warned.

“But I am happy to see my older brother so….blessed with a beautiful bride such as yourself,” Larys finished, a knowing glint in his eyes as he smiled crookedly and took a sip of his wine.

“Th-Thank you, Larys,” you gulped, reaching under the table to squeeze your husband’s hand; Harwin himself did not look pleased with his brother’s words but brushed them off as he continued his conversation with your father. It was surprisingly jovial and at ease, your father laughing at the story Harwin was telling of his boyhood in the Riverlands. You knew–before at least–that your father had held no love for your lover, suspecting if not knowing what was going on behind the closed doors of your chamber all those years. Yet now that things had been set to rights there was no longer a need for such grudges to exist–your family and Harwin’s were as one with each other as the two of you were.

The night slipped on around you all without a warning, all the while you basked in the peaceful camaraderie of those around you; you found yourself becoming drunk, not only off the wine but also the pure joy you had become encumbered with. Soon you found yourself hanging off the arm of your husband, face tucked into his shoulder as you laughed, feeling the press of his kiss against your hairline.

“Shall we retire for the night, my love?” He asked low enough so only you could hear. “I would see that the rest of our ceremonies be fulfilled.”

His voice held the tone of promise, laced with heat it still sent shivers up your arms and back as you allowed your eyes to close. Licking your lips, you nodded, pressing your face into the scratchy fabric of his tunic. Chuckling lowly, he gently extracted himself from your grasp and stood up with his cup in hand. Clearing his throat to draw the attention of your companions, he began the night’s last toast with a raise of his cup:

“As the night draws long, I would like to end this feast by expressing my gratitude to all of you for being here to witness the union of me and my beautiful wife,” he glanced at you as you stared breathlessly up at him, cheeks flushed and a dreamy look in your eye; looking back at your guests, he continued, “I believe I can speak for the both of us when I say that you all have our thanks. With that being said, I would have us raise our cups one last time to good blessings and for a long, healthy marriage.”

“Here!” Yours and Lyonel’s father exclaimed drunkenly, lifting their glasses along with the rest of the men in a chorus–save Larys, who looked bored as he gave a simple gesture of his cup before sipping from it.

With the conclusion of Harwin’s toast many of the guests decided to excuse themselves for the night and retire to their chambers or perhaps other pursuits. As the wedded couple of such a small gathering of people, Harwin and you were both expected to stay until the last guest had their fill, although the pair of you were eager to find privacy in the comfort of your now shared living space. Thankfully, all but Harwin’s brother seemed to understand the urgency and took their leave not long after Harwin’s speech; Larys, however, lingered like a bed feeling, partaking slowly in more food and wine as he carried on a conversation with Harwin and his father–both not-so-subtly attempting to persuading him that it was time to take his leave.

“Brother,” Harwin spoke once more, a warning now in his voice; he like you knew what game Larys was playing–it was out of spite for the perceived wrong of Harwin marrying you when you were all but in heart his brother’s to have. You knew Larys cared nothing for you, having not shared but a few conversations over the years, but you knew he did desire more than what was expected to come to a second son. If he could not have the lordship that would pass to Harwin due to birth order, then he would have the woman his brother had lusted after all these years–or so he had thought.

“Larys,” their father pressed next, exhaustion clear in his voice–he had not the patience to contend with a petulant child in a grown man’s body.

“If you wish to retire brother then by all means do not let me stop you,” Larys spoke, staring into his cup as he swirled its contents around the inside. “I find myself rather content at this time and have no intention of leaving any time soon.”

“Very well then,” Harwin muttered with a sigh, standing up not a moment later and holding his hand out to you. Feeling uncomfortable with the tensions between brothers, you took your husband’s hand without a word and let him lead you from the room. The last words spoken were a good night from Harwin directed only at his exasperated father as the door closed behind you.

Nervously, you held on to the arm of your husband as he led you to his–both of yours–chambers; along with the setting up of the ceremony Harwin had moved into a room not far from his father’s apartments, seeing as his previous room as Lord Commander was hardly fitting for a newlywed couple. Begrudgingly you had some gratitude towards Rhaenyra, who along with relinquishing Harwin from his post without any more theatrics than was necessary she had also arranged for the quick setting up of your new accommodations; though jealousy still simmered beneath your surface, you knew that Rhaenyra was extending this branch as a show of good faith–she would no longer bed Harwin now that he was married to you.

Upon quietly entering the room, you allowed yourself to let go of Harwin and step forward, assessing what amenities it possessed. Smaller than the Hand’s chambers, the room entered into the customary solar area complete with ample sitting and a grand fireplace, a decent sized table to take meals, and a view of the gardens below. The solar cut off into two different rooms on each side–you assumed one led to yours and Harwin’s chambers and the other a modest nursery. At the thought of the nursery you felt a familiar ache in your womb, a want for something that had been rightfully yours for many years; and now there was nothing that stood in your way–

Aside from yours and Harwin’s clothes that is.

You turn to him after several moments, blush now upon your cheek as you twist your hands nervously in front of you. Of course, this was far from being your first time with Harwin, but the added expectation that this time could possibly lead to what you had always wanted–to a child–made this time so much different.

“Something troubling you, wife?” Harwin asked, a knowing smirk on his lips as he slowly approached you.

“No–” You stopped yourself as you returned his smirk with a teasing smile of your own. “Well, perhaps one thing….”

“And that is?” Harwin raised an eyebrow, hands coming up to circle your upper arms gently as he pulled you closer.

“We are both wearing too many clothes,” your own hands came up to play with the ties of his tunic as you let out a heavy sigh, eyes flicking up to meet his.

Harwin’s chest shook as a deep chuckle escaped him, fingers sliding the sleeves of your dress to the back where your corset strings were, “we can’t have that, now can we?”

Together you worked on all the complex twists and buckles of your clothing, peeling each layer off as laughter became stifled under breathless kisses; each item collected in a pile at your feet as you met Harwin with swollen lips and flushed cheeks. Soon enough you stood before him, beautifully bare and already aching between your legs. Similarly, he only towered above you in nothing but a pair of unlaced trousers, the wide expanse of his chest covered in a thick layer of hair a darker shade than that on his head. As always the sight of him so open to you made your fingers itch to explore every inch of his body, but you never got the chance as the strong bands of his arms wrapped around you.

His hands smoothed down the skin of your back and to the globes of your ass, which he cupped with his calloused fingers. Pressing your bodies together, Harwin leaned down and you once more met in a heated kiss as he pawed your flesh. You felt the slight sting of his nails as he dug them in, nipping and pulling at your lip with his teeth as your hips began to move together. The outline of his hardening cock could be felt pressing into your thigh, causing you to moan into his mouth at the promise of what was to come.

“Do you feel that?” Harwin panted, freeing one of his hands to smooth back the curtain of your hair as he grinded into you; his knee pushed its way between your legs, forcing them to widen to accommodate his side as he angled his hips to deepen his thrusts. He continued to keep a hold on your face, sliding down to cup your cheek and jaw as he stared right into your eyes.

“Harwin-” You licked your swollen lips, unable to look away from him as he gave just as much as he took.

“Hush now,” Harwin spoke against your lips, biting at the bottom one as he went back to kissing you–deeper and more demanding this time.

As you continued to kiss he found the back of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you through the solar and to your private bedchambers. Soon, you found yourself pressed into the freshly changed bed sheets–all soft and fresh smelling, warm against your skin as you opened yourself up to Harwin’s ministrations. His hands pushed your thighs up to be level to your hips, keeping them there and widened so that he could settle easily between them as he knelt. Kisses followed a path from your mouth to your inner thighs, the scruff of his beard coarse against your skin.

Red faced, you held your head at an uncomfortable angle so as to see what Harwin was doing, the muscles of your neck straining and tensing. Seeing the furrow of your brow, your husband hesitated at the juncture where your leg met your cunt before pulling away with a disappointed whimper from you–you could just feel his breath against your wet heat. Smirking, he reached past you, placing his pecs in perfect view of your eyes and mouth; unable to resist temptation you leaned up and nipped at one of the hardened peeks of his chest causing him to jerk. You could barely get another lick in before he was pulling away, pillow in hand.

Your momentary heightened courage faded as he stared at you with hungry eyes, reaching down to press a soft kiss on your lips as he tucked the pillow underneath your head. The strain on your neck disappeared as he found his home once more between the valley of your thighs.

“You never fail to surprise me, wife,” he grunted, littering the inner skin with love bites as he spoke reverently. “I cannot wait to see what all you have been holding back from me all these years….”

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” you muttered as you leaned your head with a groan as Harwin pushed between your folds, his nose rubbing against the heart of your pleasure as he thrusted his tongue inside of you. This did not last long as he pulled away with a chuckle, thumb reaching up to replace the pressure on your clit.

“Is that so?” He spoke hotly, breath caressing over your slickness. “So you do not have any hidden desires you have been keeping from me? A pity….I was rather looking forward to see you so debauched before me–”

“Harwin!” You exclaimed as he slid his thumb into your heat, thrusting it in and out at a steady pace as his mouth delved back between your folds.

“Nevertheless,” he sighed, pulled back slightly as he pressed a kiss to your pussy, “I will use this opportunity as my penitence.”

“What-” you began with a sigh of confusion, cutting off in a gasp as your hips lifted off the bed into Harwin’s waiting mouth; he licked at you with renewed fervor, pushing his face between your lips as he latched onto your clit. The pleasure did not come slowly, it crashed over you in barely contained waves that held no rhyme or reason to them, simply encompassing you until you were in danger of drowning in it; if it were not for the firm hold Harwin had on your bucking hips, you just might have done so.

“Oh, gods, oh-Harwin!” You moaned, pushing yourself up to lean on your forearms as you watched him consume you.

You came as swiftly as it started, hips struggling to roll into Harwin’s tongue as his fingers pushed you through your orgasm; even after you had finished he continued to taunt your sensitive flesh until you were begging him in incoherent whispers to lend you just a moment. When he pulled away his lips were coated with something that was purely you, something he hungrily licked clean as he leaned down to claim your lips once more. You could taste yourself on his tongue and teeth, answering his hungry stroking with some of your own as he gently gripped your jaw.

“You are always a vision beneath me,” Harwin whispered, eyes enamored to the sight of you naked and yielding as you once more relaxed into the bed, “but I would have you astride me tonight if you would?”

“How can I deny you anything after such an….impressive performance, my husband?” You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek, thumb smoothing over the roughness of his beard.

Without further prodding, Harwin discarded his trousers clumsily as you pushed yourself up, wasting no time in straddling him once he was completely unclothed. You pushed him into the bed, hands planted on the hard plains of his stomach as you rubbed your cunt against his aching length. The breath left Harwin as he immediately grabbed onto your hips, trying his best to still your movements as he composed himself.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He chuckled, a hint of nervous anticipation in his voice as he let out a shaky breath.

“And you are not?” You raised an eyebrow, hands smoothing over his torso. “I would have you deep inside me right now for the third time if you weren’t so determined on preparing me….”

“Three times?” Harwin snorted playfully, kneading the flesh of your hips. “My, you are ambitious tonight, my love.”

“The more you have me, the better chance of me becoming with child,” you explain practically, just the mere thought sending a surge of lust through your body.

The image of him thrusting into you throughout the night, barely a pause in between orgasms, as he filled you until it was spilling out; even then, he would not stop, fucking you messy so that his seed would have a better chance of taking. The prospect seemed to excite your lover as well; eyes darkening, Harwin reached down to grip his stiff cock, thumb rubbing over the vein that ran the length of it. With his other hand, he lifted you into position, poising you over the reddened tip before helping you slowly slide down.

“That’s what you want then? A child?” He groaned, fisting the base of his penis as you adjusted to the girth. “It’s what you’ve always wanted….”

Sighing from the fullness, you balanced yourself on your hands as you pressed back and down on the impressive size of him; even after all these years it was a stretch and adjustment each time you took him–and that’s the way you liked it. You nodded tearfully, becoming overwhelmed from not only the pleasure but the emotion his words invoked you.

“Yes, I want a babe, Harwin,” you moaned, tilting your head back as you began to rock your hips. “I want-”

You gasped as you were flipped over, Harwin slamming his cock the rest of the way as he pressed you into the bed. His hands pushed your thighs up to your chest, holding them there with nothing but the driving force of his hips; once you were settled in your new position his hands pressed into the bed on either side of your head, tempo increasing as he fucked into you. His hips rolled at a consistent tempo, fast and hard they slapped against the skin of your ass as you cried out in pleasure.

“Now that you are my wife, you can have it all,” Harwin grunted, sweat beading on his forehead as he threw his head back in pleasure. “I will give you as many children as you want–a dozen, fifty-fuck the gods! A hundred! I will fuck a hundred babies into you–sons and daughters. Whatever you want, it is yours my love just–”

“Harwin!” You keened, the friction of his thrusts rubbing against your sensitive bud.

“All you have to do is ask it of me!” He continued, hips stuttering as he tried to stop himself from ending this so soon. “Ask and it is yours! All of it!”

“Yes,” you choked out, finding that second precipice and grappling for it. “I want it all–everything! Give me everything, Harwin, fuck it into me until I am filled with you–”

You fell over mere moments before he did, milking his cock as he pushed your legs up almost to your ears and held himself there. The warmth of his seed coated you, filling your insides up until it was leaking from around Harwin’s softening shaft. His hips moved ever so slightly, ensuring that not a single drop was wasted as he mumbled sweetly to you.

“There we are,” he sighed contently, pumping his hips as he looked between the pair of you where you were joined, inspecting his work proudly. He let your legs fall slowly to rest on either side of him, caressing the shaking muscles of your thighs as you came down from the intense coupling. Only once your aftershocks had subsided did Harwin pull himself from you, reaching down to grip his flaccid cock–coated in arousal and cum. “Beautiful….”

You flushed as you realized he was still staring between your legs, watching as his spend gradually began to slide from inside of you. For a moment, you wanted to close your legs out of bashfulness, but resisted the urge as you watched Harwin push what he could back inside. He does so ever so carefully, eyes never straying from your lower lips as he fucked his release once more into you, caressing the still contracting walls of your cunt.

“There,” he proclaimed, a satisfied warmth in his glazed eyes, “much better.”

Biting your lip, you held your arms open to him, needing the length of his body once more pressed against yours. You were both satiated–for the moment–as Harwin did just that, lowering himself on the bed so that his face pressed against the softness of your stomach. For a moment, you believed that like yourself he was imagining what it would be like swollen with a child. Soon enough, with the grace of the Seven, you would not have to simply imagine for much longer–

You could see it now–a boy with Harwin’s curls and your eyes, tall and strong like his father yet gentle and soft spoken like you. Or maybe they would be a girl? Either way, they were alway the perfect combination of you and your husband. Your child was a daydream that did not fail to bring a smile to your lips as you curled against Harwin, but they would not be a daydream forever–

The weightlessness of your heart was for once certain.

#˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 : #house of the dragon #hotd #harwin strong #harwin strong x reader #harwin strong one shot

[blindmagdalena]

Well now i just wanna spend an hour or three teasing/riding homie to assure him that yes, he is my favorite, he’s everybody’s favorite

 18+ homelander x f!reader, comeplay, cunnilingus, lite sublander. When Homelander is feeling insecure, he has a gift for making it the problem of absolutely everyone in his radius, but none more so than you. What started as a harmless, playful conversation about which member of the Seven was your favorite quickly turned into pursed lips and irritated, sharp little huffs from him. Perhaps you took it a little too far. Now it's your responsibility to repair the damage done to his ego, and frankly? You wouldn't have it any other way.

"That's it," you encourage softly, straddling his naked waist, pumping his cock slow and easy in your fist. "You're doing so good for me. Look at you," you praise, smoothing his hair down with your free hand.

The last hour has been nothing but slow, exquisite torture, with gentle touches and fervent praise.

Homelander has both hands above his head, gripping the headboard firmly enough that the wood groans precariously under the pressure of his strength. He exhales roughly, hips giving a small jerk beneath you. "Now, say it for me. Who's my favorite?" You ask him, cupping the side of his face. "Me," he exhales roughly, licking his lips. He looks feverish like this, barely containing his need, barely keeping his strength in check. It's enough to make you feel like a god above him. "I am."

"Mmhm, of course you are. You're everyone's favorite. America's hero," you assure him, moving your palm over the head of his cock to spread the precome drooling from it down his length with a twist of your wrist. He keens so sweetly for you, your words and your voice soothing what had been burned.

You tighten your grip, and that's all it takes to wring a needy "Oh, fuck," from him, his brows furrowed tight, teeth bared. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was in pain. "Ssshhh, it's okay, my darling. It's okay. I'm going to make you feel so good. Can you tell me where you want to come, darling?" You ask, leaning over him, which presses the wet head of his cock against your stomach. "Inside? Or how about all over my chest? So long as you lick it up after."

Homelander looks stricken, lips opening and closing as he struggles to formulate any kind of thought. "C-chest," he manages to grit out, bucking up against you. "I hoped you would," you tell him, voice low. You sit back up, angling his cock towards yourself. "C'mon, darling. Mark me. Show me that I'm your favorite, too." You stroke him faster, moving your other hand from his face to your chest, letting him watch as you massage your breast, moaning gently. You can feel the way it makes his cock throb in your grasp, feel how insane it drives him in the thrum of his body beneath yours. He jerks his hips up hard enough that you almost lose your balance, and when they don't sink back down, you quickly realize he's halfway floating off the bed. You tighten your legs around him. There's a snap in the headboard when Homelander comes, a crack running cleanly through the line of it. He moans your name loud and broken, arching his back as he paints your chest in thick white ribbons, gasping his way through his release. It splatters all the way up to your chin. He drops back down onto the bed with a ragged breath, closing his eyes as he rides out the aftershocks, cock still twitching weakly in your grasp. "Good, that was so good, sweetheart," you coo, making sure your grip is loose, milking him slowly of his orgasm. "You came so much for me."

Homelander opens his bleary eyes at that. His pupils are blown black, his features soft with relief, but you see clearly the pang of hunger when he looks at you, especially at your chest. "Can I?" He asks softly, voice reedy, but thick with desire. You nod, and he eagerly accepts the permission, letting go of the headboard and lifting himself into a sitting position, both of his hands going to your ribs, pulling you in close. Eagerly, Homelander licks a line up between your breasts, tasting salt and sex and himself on your skin. It makes him moan low and throaty against you. You put your hands in his hair and sigh, tipping your head back. The sheer heat of his mouth erupts goosebumps on your skin, but it's the hungry way he sucks at you that really makes your core throb. Homelander cleans your skin diligently, laving his tongue over your breast before sucking it into his mouth, tonguing your nipple. He's in heaven like this, rumbling pleased little noises against your skin. You arch your back into the warmth of his mouth, encouraging him with the way you cradle his head to your chest. He nuzzles against your breast, sucking contentedly. He takes his time before moving to the opposite breast, and doing the same, holding you firmly while he licks and sucks you clean.

"Mm, feels so good," you say, dragging your nails down his scalp. "Look at you, cleaning me all up."

"Almost," he murmurs, voice sex-rough and low. Moving his hand down your body, he cups between your thighs, and presses his middle finger in deep with a soaked noise, drawing it back up to hold up between you.

It glistens with your slick just before he pops it into his mouth, holding your gaze, intent. His own eyes are glazed over, foggy with hunger. He draws his finger out with a pop, and repeats a familiar question: "Can I?" Heart racing with excitement and arousal in equal measure, you nod. "Anything for my favorite hero."

Homelander smiles, licking his lips preemptively as he lays back. He uses his strength to effortlessly slide you up his chest, further and further, until you're straddling his face. He doesn't waste any time before tasting you, massaging your thighs as he drags his tongue through the slick mess of your pussy. "Oh, fuck, baby," you give a shuddering sigh, grinding down against his tongue. You put your hands on the cracked headboard, breaths growing shallow as you start to rock your hips back and forth, using his mouth to your hearts content. He moans beneath you, smoothing his hands up to your hips and then back down your thighs. He cups your ass and squeezes, encouraging you even more, reminding you that you needn't be delicate. You can't hurt him, you can't smother him. He's wholly yours, to do with as you please, and he wants it.

You drop one hand down into his hair, grabbing a fistful of it, losing yourself completely in the shameless, sloppy wet way he devours you. You exhale roughly, pressing your forehead to the headboard, the cool wood a relief against the sweat prickling on your skin.

The pleasure swells and swells until finally you feel it blossom into release, the euphoria of it rolling through your entire body. You pull his hair hard, thighs clenching on either side of his head as you moan through your release. Homelander doesn't skip a beat, doesn't pause for a moment. He's voracious, spurred on by your orgasm instead of satisfied by it. Your breath catches when he just nuzzles in more eagerly, shaking his head side to side, his tongue flat and firm against your clit.

"Th-that's good," you say, giving his hair a tug, but he pays you no mind. He sucks at your clit, slides his tongue from your entrance back to the throbbing nub.

He's insatiable, eating you out loud and messy. You're always aware that the control you have over him is an illusion, only ever as real as he allows it to be, but nothing makes that clearer than the strength of his grip as he holds you in place, devouring his fill.

He's going to make sure you never forget who your favorite hero is ever again.

Your second orgasm steals the breath from your lungs, has you doubled over against the headboard, held up only by Homelander's hands on your hips.

Sitting up, Homelander walks his hands up your body, easing you back down until your bodies are flush, your head on his chest. You're still catching your breath, the aftermath of your back to back orgasms still rolling through your body. "Naughty boy," you finally manage to say, heaving a satisfied sigh.

Homelander wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking every bit the cat that got the cream. "Shouldn't taste so fuckin good, then," he says, drawing the covers up over your bodies. Of course he would make it your fault. You hum incredulously, but find you don't have the brain space for much more than that, nuzzling into the crook of his neck with a lazy, blissed out little smile.

"You were wonderful," you murmur, brushing your lips just below his ear. You feel a lingering tension in his body melt away, knowing that he had been waiting for you to praise him. "Made me feel so good."

He kisses the top of your head, resting his cheek there afterwards, arms wrapped snugly around you. "Tell me you love me," he prompts quietly, stroking your arm. "I love you," you assure him, sliding your arms around him in return. "So very, very much." Homelander smiles, exhaling a soft, warm breath across the crown of your head. He'll have to goad you into teasing him more often. He likes it when you make it up to him.

#WHOOOOPS this got out of hand haha #it's SMUT #homelander x reader #homelander x you #my writing #ask and you shall receive #darling anon #i hate proofreading so i'm sorry if there are glaring mistakes lmao #can you tell i was in the mood for soft and slightly subby homie #smut

[fruitcoops]

I miss my sister so very much (she's in college) so your sibling fics are the ones I revisit the most often, you write them so well! I was wondering if you wanted to write something about Sirius and Reg playing when Reg is just a few months old and Sirius witnesses Reg saying his first word? Or maybe taking his first step, whatever you prefer. Only if you want to ofc, thank you!

Happy birthday, Sirius! Character credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Anastasia is mine <3

There was a birthday cake in the kitchen, Sirius presumed. He thought he had seen a big white box earlier that afternoon, the kind from the bakery that stamped their name in swirly gold letters and wrapped silk ribbon around the outside. The bows were always picture-perfect; the cakes were more shimmery decoration than substance. Sirius had never been allowed to try one, of course, but the poorly-hidden disappointment on guests’ faces upon the first bite told him he wasn’t missing much. Briefly, he wondered whether he should be sad about not getting to eat his own birthday cake, regardless of the taste.

Another round of laughter siphoned from the closed door of his father’s study and he wrinkled his nose. Never mind.

“It’s not my interest,” he declared. That was a big, new phrase Anastasia had taught him just that morning. Seven year olds need to know big words, she had advised with a secret smile. It makes you sound as smart as you are. He wondered if his cousins would find it as impressive when they visited tomorrow. Surely he was much smarter than Bellatrix had been when she was seven.

Regulus stared up at him, squishy and wide-eyed and confused, then burst into a peal of laughter that made Sirius’ stomach feel funny. A happy kind of funny, like when the birds on the electric line all took off at once. He scooted forward on the carpet and reached toward Sirius’ face with a hopeful noise, kicking in excitement when Sirius lifted him to sit in his lap.

“Anastasia?” he asked quietly. She looked up and set her book aside, leaning forward to hear better. Sirius loved it when she did that. It meant she was really listening. “May we please watch cartoons?”

“No, not right now.”

“Please?”

“We have to be quiet.” She tapped her index finger to her lips with a wink. “You’re the big surprise for your papa’s friends, birthday boy. We can’t spoil a surprise this soon!”

Sirius frowned. “But it’s my birthday. I want to watch cartoons.”

“I know, but—”

“It’s my birthday.” Something hot and itchy rose at the back of Sirius’ neck and he scowled deeper, tightening his hold around Regulus’ soft middle. It didn’t feel like angry and it didn’t feel like sad but altogether something bad that he shouldn’t have to feel today. “It’s my day, Anastasia.”

Anastasia pressed her lips together with a look to the study door, then sat down across from him on the carpet. “I can see you’re getting frustrated—” Frustrated, that’s what this feeling is. “—but cartoons will be too loud right now. What if we go upstairs with Regulus and play cars?”

Sirius chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. Regulus was getting wiggly already, and he did like playing cars. Sitting downstairs until his parents found the right time for the birthday surprise didn’t sound nearly as fun. “Alright,” he agreed, getting to his feet and looking down. “What do you think?”

Regulus held on to the leg of his scratchy pants for balance and toddled a couple feet before sitting heavily on his backside, then reached up toward Sirius once again.

“I know you can walk further than that,” Sirius sighed. Honestly, it was exasperating. At barely a year old, his little brother was as heavy as a Christmas turkey.

“I can carry him, Sirius,” Anastasia laughed when they reached the first landing.

Sirius shook his head and readjusted to hold Regulus under the arms, letting him hang limp and giggly. “It’s fine,” he panted. “I won’t drop him.”

“I never thought you would.”

Regulus decided enough was enough at the top of the second flight and squirmed, kicking his fleece-clad feet and making unhappy noises until Sirius let him down to wobble along the hallway. “He just started doing that last month,” Sirius informed Anastasia. “He’s fast. Maman says I started walking earlier, but I was slower. I think I’m better at it than he is.”

Anastasia arched a brow, but Sirius could see her smiling. “You’ve had a lot more practice.”

He shrugged. “I guess. Regulus, my room, remember?”

Regulus made a noise and turned, using the bookshelf to balance. Sirius heard Anastasia’s surprised sound and looked up at her curiously. “He understands,” she said. “Interesting.”

“Of course he understands.”

Her eyes flickered down to him. “I—well, I didn’t expect it, is all.”

Sirius frowned. He didn’t like it when people said things like that. “Regulus is very smart.”

“You’re both very intelligent,” Anastasia agreed with a gentle ruffle of his hair. “Alright, go pick your cars and I’ll get the map out.”

--

It had been fifty-three minutes since they came upstairs. They had played cops and robbers, cowboy chase, and city—he had sorted all his cars by color and then by size, and Anastasia taught him the English words for all of the categories. “This is much more fun than a party,” Sirius had declared after a rousing car chase through the plastic zoo animals. Anastasia had looked a little sad, then, but smiled anyway and told him she was glad he thought so.

That didn’t make a lot of sense, if Sirius was being honest. Why would he want to sit in a room of grownups when he could play cars with Anastasia and Regulus? What stupid person would think that was fun? Best to leave the boring stuff to his parents. It was nice of them to entertain the guests so he could go play.

Regulus wasn’t loud most days; he only cried when he was hungry or missed a nap, and otherwise seemed content to stick to his humming or nothing at all. Sirius understood him perfectly fine either way. But he was louder today, pointing to cars when Anastasia named English colors or sizes—small, medium, big, very big—and babbling. They clapped every time. It made Regulus smile, mostly toothless, and that was enough of a reward.

After cars, they watched the snow falling against the sunset, and once it was dark, Anastasia brought them back downstairs for dinner in the kitchen. Sirius suffered through fifteen minutes of being paraded around the guests to be cooed over and get his cheeks pinched by women older than his grandmother before making a quick escape when the conversation turned back to his father.

The moon hung like a silver dollar in the corner of his bedroom window. The three of them sat on the carpet, Regulus in his lap and Anastasia’s arm around him, tucked up cozy under a blanket from last Christmas. “This was a good birthday,” Sirius said, snuggling into her side. Dinner had made him sleepy. Between the two of them, he was sandwiched in warmth; it was too easy to let his eyelids droop.

“Do you feel older? Seven is a big birthday.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yes. It’s my lucky number.”

“Hmm. Mine is…” Sirius thought for a moment while Regulus played with his hands. “Mine is six, I think. I liked being six.”

“I did, too. That was a long time ago for me, though.”

“It was yesterday for me.”

“I know, Sirius,” she laughed.

“Soos.”

Sirius felt Anastasia lean down to Regulus’ level at the same time he did. “Reggie? Was that you?”

Regulus pulled on the cuff of Sirius’ fancy shirt. “Soos,” he repeated, shaking it like a rattle.

“…shirt?”

“I think…I think he’s trying to say your name,” Anastasia said quietly.

Oh. Excitement leapt in his chest and he turned Regulus around. Chubby fists waved before settling on Sirius’ front; Regulus leaned in and bonked their foreheads together with a shrieking giggle. “Soos!”

“Sirius,” he corrected.

“Soos.”

“See—ree—oos.”

“Soos!” Regulus stretched it out into a half dozen syllables and Sirius turned to Anastasia, beaming, before Regulus grabbed his cheeks and brought his attention back. “Soos.”

“Sirius.” He touched his own nose, then pressed on Regulus’. “Regulus.”

“Goose.”

“Close enough.”

“Soos and Goose.” Anastasia shook her head, bright-painted lips in a broad smile, and Sirius saw her eyes go shiny for just a second before she blinked it away. “I’ll have to put that one in the book, hmm?”

“Does it count?”

“As a first word? Of course it does.”

“Well, it’s not quite right,” Sirius pointed out, though he couldn’t tear his attention from Regulus’ careful mapping of his face. He was back to humming, little beeps of sound every few seconds.

“It doesn’t have to be just right. It’s enough that he tried, isn’t it? And we know what he means.”

Sirius considered it. “Is that your present for me?” he asked Regulus. “Saying my name?”

“Soos.”

“It counts.” Sirius adjusted his grip so they were eye-to-eye, close enough for Regulus to grab his ears. “That is my favorite birthday present. Thank you.”

Regulus went for his nose next and Sirius jerked back, startled. “Soos!”

“That is not my interest,” he said firmly.

Anastasia’s bark of laughter was louder than any cartoons would have been.

#sirius black #regulus black #anastasia #sweater weather #baby sirius #baby regulus #black brothers #birthday #first word #walburga and orion pay attention to your kid or face my wrath

[goldencorecrunches]

Jin Ling had a Box.

He had many boxes. And cabinets. And dressers and drawers. The Box was special, because it was a Secret. Even from Shushu, who knew all his secrets. It was very exciting, to have a secret from Shushu. It made Jin Ling want to hug himself whenever he thought about it, but he couldn't or Shushu would find out about the Secret Box, so he hugged Fairy instead, which he did normally. Shushu had taught him that, to do things you did normally, when you were trying to hide a secret. When you did things out-of-the-ordinary, that was when you were made.

The Box was hidden wayyyy up under his bed, in the corner where the ropes came together and nobody's fingers could get in but his (because his fingers were very small). It had three things in it: a rock shaped like a heart, which he had found on the banks of the Jiang River, just formed that way by nature (he had thought to give it to Nurse, or maybe Jiujiu, before he had decided he liked it too much and was going to keep it instead); a piece of grass tied into seven knots one on top of the other, which was the most he had ever managed in one sitting without snapping the blade; and a coiled-up purple silk ribbon that had belonged to his mother.

Or– it hadn't. Really. But it might have. So that was almost as good. It was the kind of thing she would have had, and if Jin Ling had had anything of hers, it would have been something like this, he knew it, could feel it in the way his chest hurt-hurt-hurt and dragged down into his stomach when he touched it. And he hadn't paid for it, he'd taken it quickly from the stall when nobody was looking, so maybe actually he'd found it in a forgotten room of Jinlintai– because Lotus Pier had been burned down and rebuilt, and nothing of the old remained– and it had been hers, and he had it now, and her hands had touched it, and when he pressed it to his face he could feel her hands too.

(He saw mothers scrub their children's noses in the marketplace, pat their eager heads, and he wanted it so badly he ate too much soy milk pudding and made himself sick.)

Shushu said it was good that he was a filial son and loved his mother, honored and remembered her, but nobody seemed to understand that Jin Ling didn't have any memories of a mother's touch. He'd only been a baby when she had died. No matter how much he asked, nobody would tell him anything real; they talked around her, not about her. Shushu said she had been very kind and that it was a tragedy. Jiujiu glared and cried and then taught Jin Ling how to make soup. 

So he kept her ribbon in The Box, which nobody else knew about (not even Shushu), and when he couldn't sleep he wiggled up underneath his bedframe and took it out and twisted it between his fingers, the silk as smooth as water. Maybe, if he closed his eyes and concentrated his really, really hardest, he could still smell her perfume.

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #jin ling #my fics #baby T.T

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Sixteen

We talk for hours and hours as the light creeps across the floorboards and the sky takes on a lavender hue. Jude makes me laugh so much that my face hurts from it, and I’m hesitant to move, to get up to use the bathroom or to grab a glass of water in case I shift the vibe and he starts thinking about leaving, because I could sit here forever more and have him talk to me. 

My stomach ruins it in the end, by growling loud and long, and I clamp my hands over it as he raises his eyebrows. “Hungry?”

“We never had lunch.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe we should get going.”

“Back to Dublin?”

“Unless you feel like eating the stale rice cakes in the kitchen cupboard.”

I would, if it meant I could stay, but saying things like that would make me seem far more desperate than I’d like to appear. 

“So what do you think, do you want to hit the road, or…” He trails off, leaving me with the impression that he has another option in mind. I raise my eyebrows. “Or?”

“Well, I’m not sure.” he says, drumming his fingers idly on his knee. “It’s just that it’s five now, and even when we leave we won’t be home until seven, and by then I’ll be much hungrier than I am now…”

“Yes and we can’t have that.”

“Right! You know how I get. I mean, we could always stop on the way and get a sad, miserable bag of chips from some dive by the side of the road.”

“Oh, miserable.” I echo.

“Or, you know, if you’re at all up for it I was thinking we could go and get something now, and then go back to Dublin after that.”

I rest my head on my fist and grin at him. “Had you a place in mind?”

“There’s this seafood restaurant that I used to go to with my parents every Friday night during our summers here, it’s not too far, maybe a half hour drive…”

“It’s nice?”

“Oh my God, Evie, like, so nice. You have to try it. Have you eaten lobster before?”

“Is that a joke?”

“No.”

I feel like I should bat him upside the head, but I restrain myself. “Of course I haven’t eaten lobster before. Are you cracked? I’m from a council estate.”

A smile splits across his face as he shrugs. “Well then it’s even more reason to try it, isn’t it.” I open my mouth, but he already knows what I’m going to say. “My treat.” He says. “All of it. I’m the reason we’re here anyway, and we’re celebrating… this house not being flattened by the storm.”  

“Yes, what a good reason.” 

“So what do you think?”

I squint at him. “Is this a date? Are you asking me to go on a date with you?”

He pretends to be surprised. “Well I never thought about it like that. Is that something you’d ever want to do?”

“Do you know how goofy you are? Just ask me.”

“How about a date, Evie? Let me take you to dinner. Whaddia say?” 

I roll my eyes and whack him in the bicep. “Obviously, you dope.”

We park the car by a trinket shop that overlooks a small spit of a beach, strewn with ribbons of slimy seaweed. In this little fishing village of whitewashed walls and thatched roofs, we are butted up right up against the south coast, overlooking the stretch of green, choppy water where the Irish Sea kisses the Atlantic. The wind is salty and crisp, and whips my hair away across my face and into my mouth and eyes so ferociously that I have to battle it out of my face. Jude takes me by the hand to guide me across the road, and I pretend that I’m too preoccupied with the hair in my mouth to notice, because if I think about the fact that we’re holding hands too hard I might start freaking out about it.

The seafood restaurant is a solid old building with the air of something that’s stood proud on this quay for decades. We duck inside its wooden panelled walls and I’m enveloped in the warm glow of a fire that blazes in the corner. The walls are stuffed with fishing paraphernalia, and faded buoys old nets drape from the ceiling. The final dregs of the evening sun passes through the lobster tank as our hostess leads us right past it and to our seat in a cosy corner beneath a display of old black and white photographs, newspaper clippings of this very restaurant, looking the very same as it does now over fifty years ago.

“Don’t look at the prices.” Jude warns me as we open our menus. “They’re irrelevant.”

“Well even if I wanted to, there’s no price on the lobster.” I comment, and he tells me it’s because they charge you based on the weight, but I think that even a ballpark estimate would have been useful. How are you supposed to know? But then again, maybe people who eat things like lobster just instinctively know what it’s worth. 

In the end I don’t risk it, it’d feel unfair to Jude’s wallet, so I order crab instead. He, however, decides on lobster, and when they bring one out on a silver tray to see if he wants it, and when I realise it’s still moving, I feel like I could jump out of my skin. 

“It’s fucked up that they’re going to go back to the kitchen and boil him alive.” I hiss across the table once they’ve taken it away, and Jude pulls a face. “Usually they stab it before throwing it in.”

“Oh, God.”

“Don’t think about it in those terms. They killed your crabs too. It’s just the nature of preparing meat.”

“I’m not taking a bite.” I declare, which is a lie, because forty minutes later when they bring out our food the first thing Jude does is hold a generous forkful of it to me and it looks and smells so delicious that I don’t even hesitate. He watches my expression carefully as though his ego depends on my enjoyment of this particular crustacean. 

“It’s very nice.” I concede. “But not as nice as it should be, considering the way things had to end for him.”

“If they sold me for food at 30 euros a pound I probably wouldn’t be that mad about it, honestly.” He says. 

“Thirty euros a pound?” I echo in shock. “That’s what it costs?”

“I can’t tell if you expected it to be more or less than that.”

“Well I don’t know.” I splutter. “Either way it’s becoming clear to me that eating lobster is completely egregious.”

“Yeah totally.” He says, and lazily feeds me another forkful while his ankles brush against mine with intention beneath the table in a way that’s outrageously flirtatious. “How is your crab?”

“Very nice.” I say guiltily. “But I’m sure the crab hasn’t suffered like the lobster.”

“You can tell yourself that if it makes you feel any better. Would you like wine?”

“Are you going to to drink some?”

“A little.”

“I’m trying not to drink that much.” I say. “I think I have a really bad relationship with alcohol.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, sometimes when I drink I think about my father, and the slippery slope that leads to the point that he’s at. I don’t want that to be me.”

“It doesn’t have to be you, you’re not the same as him.”

I shrug. “I suppose that’s true, I just don’t think I’ve ever had a normal relationship with drinking.”

“How so?”

“You know how in Spain and Italy and stuff, they buy these little dinky glasses of beer and sit out drinking them with dinner, sipping away and enjoying them for an hour or so, never with the intention of getting drunk, but just to enjoy the flavour?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well I can’t relate to that. In my head alcohol has one purpose, and it’s to make me stop thinking about the things in my life that are bad, the things I don’t want to think about anymore, just for a few hours. It’s never just one. It’s four. At least, and then probably more, and once I get to that point it’s like, if someone starts buying rounds, or shots I just can’t stop myself.”

“Hm.” He says, and pushes his food around with his fork. “I get what you mean. I think that’s common.”

“It’s common but it’s not normal.”

“Yeah, maybe it isn’t, but you’ve told me before about how you used to go drinking in fields with your friends as a young teenager. I wonder if those early experiences shape your relationship with alcohol, you know, if your introduction to it is in that environment, where you just want to get as drunk as possible because everyone says it’s fun, it can be hard to shake those patterns.”

“Yeah maybe.”

“That’s another thing you have to thank Kelly for, I suppose.”

I frown. “Kelly?”

“Yeah, I mean, isn’t she the one that pressured you into all of those things early on? You said she was always making you do things you didn’t want to, like, kissing those horrible boys at the discos or getting into pubs with fake IDs.”

“Oh. Yeah she was, but the alcohol thing was me.”

He looks genuinely surprised. “Yeah?”

“Sure I was the one with a house full of it. My dad had so much lying around that he wouldn’t even notice it going missing. I was the first one to try it, to bring it out and make everyone else have it too.”

“Oh. I didn’t think that.”

“It doesn’t seem that way, does it?”

“It really doesn’t.”

“I’m a complicated woman, Jude.” I wink. “There’s so much you don’t know.”

“Yet.” He says with emphasis. “I’ll crack that head open and get it all out of you eventually.”

I grin, and go back to my food, not really sure how much of myself, the insides of my head I’ll ever be ready to share with him or anybody else. 

We leave the restaurant with full bellies a couple of hours later, and it’s dark now, and so cold, but with Jude I feel as though I’m enveloped in a warm, orange glow. He takes my hand on the way back to the car, and he’s not nervous, so neither am I, and it feels normal and right and easy. I lean into his shoulder and hold my free hand over my stomach. 

“I think maybe dessert was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t.”

“For you maybe.”

“I’d probably never call cheesecake a mistake.”

“Oof.” I say, and I lean against the bonnet of the car as I wait for him to unlock it. “I’m really not looking forward to this journey home.”

“Yeah, well too bad. We have to go.” A pause. “We should go, right?”

I look over at him as he spins the keys indecisively around his finger and I can’t help but smile. “Yes, we probably should.”

“Unless…”

“I mean, we don’t have to if we don’t want to.”

He looks a bit relieved that I’ve said it. “No.” He admits. “Can I be honest about that? I don’t want to go home.”

“Then let’s not go.” 

“You don’t need to?”

“Actually not at all. It kind of feels like the rest of the world doesn’t exist when I’m out here, and I wouldn’t mind keeping it that way for a while.”

“Yeah, exactly. I kind of want to stay away from things for a while. We can go in a few hours, don’t you think?” 

“Well I don’t mind, as long as you don’t mind driving when it’s late.”

“Luckily I don’t.”

“Let’s get back to the beach anyway, things are closing up around here.” I peer around us at shuttered gift shops, the owner of the fruit and vegetable stall on the corner bringing his crates inside. “Maybe it’s more lively there.”

“Lively is never a word I’d use to describe that village, but I think I might know somewhere we can go for a while.”

“Sounds good.”

“Let’s keep this party going.” He grins, and when I’m settled into the passenger seat behind him and he has the heat blasting over our cold skin, I tap out a message to Claire. 

Not coming home for a few hours. Don’t wait up xx

Omg Evie! Stay safe, girly. I mean it literally. This is why I keep telling you to go on the pill. 

It’s not like that! Don’t worry. 

Even though it potentially is like that. I’m not fully sure, honestly, but I try not to worry about it as we leave behind the street lamps of the tiny fishing village and coast onto pitch dark country roads. Jude feels me staring at him, and the way that the dashboard tosses a soft blue glow over his face. His mouth ticks up at the corner. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing at all. Zero.”

“Fair enough.” He switches on the radio, I rest my head against the glass, and watch hedges and trees, grass and ditches light up and disappear under the headlights all the way back to the beach. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky girl part 3 #tw: alcohol

[virgo-mess]

The Birds and the Bees

🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝

Chapter List

1.Alexithymia- The Inability to Express your Feelings Parts 1 and 2

2.The Woes of Adolescence/ What the heck Happened that Summer

3.Caught in a Summer Storm/ What the heck Happened that Christmas.

4.Summer Bluffs? Part 1

5.Disco, Strippers, and Margaritassss Part 2

6.Sleepless in a Hotel Suite Part 3

7.Shades of Pink

8.The Things I’ve Dreamed Part 1

9.Renewal Part 2

🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝

TW: Again, nothing too bad really, mentions of child abuse and DV but nothing graphic, mostly just Cash being a little simp and thirsting after the girl next door, oh and CUTENESS BEWARE

Alexithymia- The Inability to Express Your Feelings Part 2

🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝🐦🐝

"You're my first love, and I never had the courage to tell you. My love for you is pure, ageless. I knew it the first time I saw you bob for apples at your ninth birthday party. I've known it all our lives, and my love for you has grown as we've grown together, apart, and back together again" - Trudy Stiles

Cash’s Pov

Cash stirred early the next day to the comforting sound of waves crashing on the sandy shores of Manomet beach. He couldn’t really hear the waves of the Hudson River from his apartment back in Jersey City and that was one of the things he had missed the most about coming back home over the years. The golden streams of summer sunshine poured in through the open window of his childhood bedroom. The soft morning breeze swirled the pair of sage green curtains hung above the window gently, while Cash peered out it with a content smile on his face. Mornings like this always reminded him of Shay but then again, almost everything reminded him of her somehow.

Shaylee Harris the girl next door, his childhood best friend, and his first crush. Though looking back on it all now even Cashton Ewing could admit it was so much more than that. Shaylee Harris had single handedly been occupying his thoughts and dreams since he was fourteen, but really even before that because what seven-year-old comes up with a nickname like that for someone they don’t love even a little bit. His heart seemed to know he loved her before his brain did, he still remembered that Valentines Day back in eighth grade when he picked her up to go to the movies and the realization dawned on him, hit him like a freight train actually.

All it took was her floating out the front door in white frills of lace adorned with little pink cherry blossoms, the dress Cash had gifted her that Christmas because she stopped to look at it every time they went to the mall. Her hair was longer back then, her cascading curls of warm blonde were tied up halfway with a little pink ribbon and her green eyes looked captivating with the mascara coating her long eyelashes. Cash swore he felt his heart stop beating for a second though, as she got closer his heart was pounding so hard he was surprised Shay couldn’t hear it. It was the first time he felt butterflies in his stomach, the first time he ever felt nervous in the presence of his best friend, Shaylee Harris. He couldn’t take his eyes off her the entire drive to the movies, all he could think about was how pretty she was, how much he wanted to hold her hand, and how foolish he’d been for never appreciating holding her hand prior or looking at someone that beautiful. Cash to this day couldn’t figure out why his brain hadn’t noticed it before, though now it seemed his brain never wanted him to forget it. The onset of adolescence hit him with all its awkward buddings of more intense feelings, first love, sexual awakenings, steamy dreams and Shaylee Harris had single handedly sparked it all. Suddenly Cash didn’t just want to hang out with her, he wanted to kiss her, be with her, and touch her in ways he never had before, and no amount of time or distance ever made that go away. In fact, as the years passed by and Shay kept Cash at arm’s length his yearning for her only intensified, all-consuming in the deepest sense.

Cash sighed, taking a moment to stretch and glance at the clock while he dried his gray hair with a towel and walked over to his suitcase to pull out a pair of dark jeans and a shirt, a navy-blue button up with white stripes and short sleeves. Shay always said she liked it when he wore blue because it brought out his eyes; Cash thought it might help her get over the fact, he was waking her up so early. Shay hadn’t been a morning person her entire life and he was honestly surprised she picked a profession that required her to dedicate countless hours of her time. Especially because there was a point in time where they talked about their dreams enough for Cash to know the world of investment banking was never a world Shay had expressed a desire to be in. Of course, Cash knew Tyler, the scumbag, was most likely to blame for Shay shelving her dream but there was a small part of him the thought maybe he was to blame too.

Cash fumbled around his room, slipping into his clothes for the day and straightening out a few of his damp gray strands of hair. Cash crept out of his bedroom pointedly being as quiet as possible, he was sure his mom wasn’t up yet and really, he preferred to keep it that way if he could. He wasn’t prepared to receive another pep talk about telling Shay how he felt about her. Jo Ewing was too nosy for her own good, she, Shay’s mom, and Daisy’s mom had been Plymouth’s local gossipy hens for as long as he could remember. Cash had been hoping with Daisy and Pete’s childhood sweetheart wedding buzz, his and Shay’s ‘Will They, Won’t They’ romance would be overshadowed enough for it to blossom on its own, but it seemed everyone in Plymouth had other meddlesome plans in store for them….

 Cash whistled softly to himself and swiftly buzzed about the kitchen. He pulled a bag of coffee grounds and a can of coco powder out of one of the cabinets and waltzed over to his mom’s new espresso machine. Still whistling, Cash grabbed a gallon of milk from the fridge and carefully slid Shay’s delicate coffee mug off the cup rack. He’d gifted her a set of two for her birthday one year, two ombre style pink cups with two artfully placed cherry blossoms on the side. Cash wasn’t sure what happened to the other one, but this one had a permanent home right here, much in the same way Shay had a permanent home in his heart. Cash hit the power button on the espresso machine and gently placed Shay’s cup underneath it while he got to work on frothing the milk, mixing the coco powder, and adding strawberry syrup while he waited for the espresso to brew.

Cash had picked up a thing or two from his high school barista days, though he and Shay hardly saw each other during those summers she was working as a line cook at one of Daisy’s parent’s restaurants down in Cape Cod. Cash still made sure to have a latte ready for her each one of his shifts, chocolate covered strawberry was always one of her favorites and over the years Cash had figured out how to make the foam pink just for her. Hopefully, him showing up at her window with her favorite latte and a plate full of pastries would soothe some of her inevitable morning grumpiness because Cash didn’t want her to completely dread spending time with him today or any of the other says they were sure to busy sorting out wedding details. They were supposed to be getting a head start on all of Daisy and Pete’s quite purposeful, last-minute wedding planning. When Shay asked him yesterday if he had anything to do with Daisy and Pete ditching them, he said no and, it hadn’t been a total lie. They didn’t tell him they were planning to ditch them before lunch was over, but Cash did, however, know all about Daisy and Pete’s cupid play because he’d been in on it since Daisy showed up at his apartment three months ago. The same day she asked Shay to be her maid of honor, Daisy Martin made a stop in Jersey City to all but hound Cash into finally doing something about his twelve years long crush on his first best friend. Daisy all but broke down his front door in fact and given all the intense stuff that was going on the last time he’d even seen her, Cash expected as much. They hadn’t really had a chance to talk that time because Cash was in the process of being put on suspension for what he’d done to Tyler in the Plaza lobby…

Cash poured the rest of the ingredients into the freshly brewed espresso and gave it a good stir before pouring his now, pink steamed milk into the mug. Cash took the time to artfully pour the pink liquid in the shape of a heart before grabbing a breakfast tray and carefully setting the fresh latte on top of it. He quickly put everything back in place before grabbing one of his mom’s little porcelain plates and piling it with an assortment of macaroons and spring pastries. Cash carefully picked up the tray and made his way out of the back patio door, stepping out into the warm morning sunshine and the sound of crashing waves, he casually made his way to the back of the Harris house to Shay’s large window.

Cash couldn’t recall a time he ever actually used the Harris’ front door aside from the occasional holiday party. Crawling through Shay’s window and spending the night was such common practice for him, Maggie Harris always had a plate ready for him at the breakfast table. A fact which Cash still found hard to believe because his crush on Shay was so obvious towards the end, he found it strange neither his mom nor her parents seemed to care they cuddled and slept in the same bed unsupervised until they were teenagers. Awkward, shy, hormonal teenagers that were too self-conscious for their own good but still hormonal teenagers none the less. Though as he was recalling bits of his mom’s pep talk yesterday it would seem she and Maggie had been rooting for him and Shay to be together for some time now. She was rather vague, but Cash got the feeling there were bets placed on which kid would be walking down the aisle and with whom…

Cash peered through Shay’s large window still whistling softly to himself and let his knuckles rap against the glass obnoxiously, though he was mindful not to tip the tray in his other hand. Sometimes it took a little persistence to get the sleeping beauty up and moving, she was sure to be grumpy but to Cash spending the day with a tired grumpy Shaylee Rose was better than not spending the day with her at all. Cash pushed up on one of the white sills of the window and then the other only to find them both locked. He wasn’t sure what he expected, seen as how Shay hadn’t been home in two years but part of him hoped she’d at least remember to leave it unlocked for him the way she used to. Sometimes it felt like he thought about her way more than she ever thought about him even though Daisy tried to assure that wasn’t the case nor was it the reason Shay had pushed him away…

“Wakey wakey Cherry Blossom, we’ve got things to do and people to see! I made you your favorite” Cash said knocking on the glass a few more times with a slight blush on his cheeks. He wasn’t lying, Daisy did send over a pointedly, absurdly long list of tasks for them to complete, half of which purposefully involved taking a trip up to Boston. He could hear the loud, annoyed groan Shay gave him in reply even through the glass as she sat up in bed and glared at him through her half-drawn window shades with tired green eyes and adorable hair rollers in her golden hair. Cash bit down on his lip as he watched her shuffle out of bed in a cropped navy-blue pajama set with little white polka dots, looking very much like a little barbie doll. He hadn’t missed how curvy she’d gotten since the last time he’d seen her, having finally regained all the weight she lost being strapped to that dirt bag two years ago. She was practically glowing when he saw her step out of her car yesterday in that little green dress that just barely covered the curve of her now very plump ass and her breasts had gone up at least three cup sizes. Not that Cash cared all that much anyway, her body had always been a sight to see for him but all the extra stuff she had for him to grab now left him feeling particularly…FERAL. To put it simply.

Shay grumpily threw her shades up a bit further before unlatching her window and throwing it up to give him the most adorable attempt at a menacing glare he’d ever seen.

“Good morning beautiful, your pretty feathers shouldn’t be this ruffled first thing in the morning I dropped you off almost twenty hours ago. Any hangover symptoms should be out of your system so why are you so worked up?” Cash asked in a playful tone watching Shay roll those pretty green eyes at him.

“Gee, I don’t know, might have something to do with the Jolly Green Giant beating down my window at the butt crack of dawn” Shay said jutting out one of her childbearing hips in the most teasing way. Cash repressed a chuckle as he skillfully, threw a long leg over the windowsill and still managed not to tip the tray even the slightest bit. Before taking a careful seat on her window bench with a teasing smile on his face.

“It’s hardly my fault you forgot to unlock your window in your cocktail daze yesterday, Cherry Blossom. You know I always come in through the window, besides I brought you something, see” Cash said in the same playful tone, holding up the breakfast tray with an almost coy smile on his face. He took a minute or two to admire her skimpy yet oddly adorable set, up close. Her stomach was still toned in that feminine sexy type of way, but her hips and thighs now looked like plush little pillows Cash wanted nothing more than to bury himself in, in every way possible.

“Do you think my parents just leave unlocked lower-level windows around their house, Cashton. What do you got there, hello, are you listening to me?” Shay said pulling him out of his inner ramblings by snapping her fingers and raising a cute eyebrow at him. Cash smiled at her almost sheepishly as he felt his cheeks grow hot and his cock twitch adamantly against his thigh…

“What, yeah, I mean no, but I expected you’d leave it open for me like you used to Shaylee Rose. How else would I be bestowed the honor of being greeted by your pretty face in the morning? To think I made you this chocolate covered strawberry latte and everything” Cash said, tearing his wandering blue eyes off her perfect body and settling them back on her just as perfect face to throw her a suggestive wink. Cash watched Shay’s sun kissed cheeks tint a cute shade of pink under his gaze and her plump lips curved into a coy smile. Cash felt his heart and cock flutter in tandem the way they only ever did for her.

“You could use the front door like a normal person. Thank you for the latte, Cashy” Shay’s voice came out at him a bit softer this time and her green eyes looked amused rather than annoyed with him for the first time in ages. Aside from the little anonymous flirtation session they had yesterday, Cash hadn’t intended on dragging it out as long as he had but having her laugh and smile at him like she used to, was something he’d missed dearly as sappy as it sounded. Something about her felt so different when she came back to Plymouth after spending that summer with her aunt in LA but even before that really. Cash remembered the way she locked herself in her room the last day of school in eighth grade and how she didn’t come out for a whole week, Shay kept insisting she just didn’t feel well, and his mom and her mom assured him that it was just something teenage girls go through. That she’d eventually come around and things would go back to normal, but they never really did, she was distant and closed off. Cash thought for sure he had done something to upset her, though she insisted he hadn’t. She was right next door, right next to him even, but she felt worlds away…

“We both know I’m not a normal person Cherry Blossom. Silly girl” Cash chuckled, rising to his feet to give her a playful bop on the nose with his finger. Shay let out a soft, breathy giggle and rolled her still very amused misty, green eyes at him in a way only she could. Part of him couldn’t help but feel special, almost loved even, when she acted this way with him because moments like these were so far and few between them these days. Cash smiled down at her adoringly before walking past her to set the tray down on the coffee table she had in front of her couch. The couch and coffee table weren’t there back in those days when he regularly used to crawl through her window. After she’d gotten back from LA Shay, for whatever reason, had decided to redo her whole room over in soft mature shades of blue, white, and gray. Sometimes Cash missed the bright shades of pink and orange that once blanketed the room in all its floral splendor.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet? Have you even picked out an outfit for today?” Cash asked, steering their conversation in the direction he needed it to go. He watched Shay take a seat on the couch and look down at the coffee and the mug it was in with glossy eyes. “Are you okay?” Cash asked with concern swirling in his blue eyes as he looked down at her.

“Yeah, I’m fine Cashy, this coffee just looks too pretty to drink… I didn’t pick out any clothes because I thought we’d be doing our planning at a reasonable hour.” Shay said, Cash could tell the smile she gave him was forced and watched the way she rapidly blinked the tears brimming her pretty green eyes away. Part of Cash wanted to push her to tell him what was bothering her but another part of him told him it wouldn’t be a good idea.

“How on earth did you make it in the world of investment banking if you can’t handle me waking you up at 8:30?” Cash said in a teasing tone, Shay cracked a genuine smile, and he was happy to see her start to nibble on one of the macaroons.

“The stock market doesn’t open until 9:30 and I’m on sabbatical, sleeping in is a right when you’re on one of those, you know. Maybe you should give it a try Officer Ewing” Shay said coyly, Cash chuckled under his breath and made his way towards her walk-in closet.

“I’ll only give it a try if you promise to be by my side when I do it, Cherry Blossom. You never did get around to showing me New York or NYU, you know. As long as you remember to leave the window unlocked for me, I promise I won’t force you out of bed until 9:30.” Cash said once more in a teasing tone before walking into her closet and skimming through the few things she had hung up from her suitcase.

“I’m holding you to that Cashton Micheal, if you’d have told me, you were in Jersey City, I would’ve given you the grand New York experience if you’d only asked.” Shay called after him. Cash heard the faint sound of her phone buzzing somewhere back out in her bedroom as he pulled a pretty, little white floral sundress with a very revealing halter neckline off her closet rack. Cash couldn’t help but bite his lip at the mere thought of her in something so innocent looking but somehow completely tantalizing all the same. It also just so happened to fit the dress code of the restaurant he was going to take her to, before they got a start on their to-do list. Although Daisy and Pete had encouraged him to talk about his feelings for Shay, Cash didn’t see any harm in also showing her how he felt about her. Cash had never really been good with words when it came to him and Shay in the later years of their friendship. She didn’t really seem to respond that well to his overt flirting and lighthearted teasing over the years so he’d resulted to small displays of affection, like making her a latte every one of his shifts or buying more boxes of her favorite candy at the movies than she could eat. Today his romantic display of choice was taking her to one of Boston’s top rated, romantic restaurants. Cash made his way back into her bedroom to find Shay skimming through her phone as she let out a long sigh.

“Everything okay?” Cash asked curiously, peering down at her to see she had finally started taking a few sips of her latte. Shay nodded her head and met his gaze with the faintest blush on her cheeks.

“Um, yeah, just sweet old Daisy adding another thing to our obnoxious to-do list. Looks like we’re heading up to Boston if that’s alright with you. Apparently, Daisy forgot she had an order to pick up at Wacoal when she and Pete were up there yesterday. You know, because they got…busy in the car…” Shay trailed in a slightly, sassy tone. Cash bit down on his lip as he recognized the name of the shop embarrassingly fast, though how could he forget that a great deal of Shay’s teasing little pajama sets had been purchased there. He should’ve figured Daisy would plan something like this to torment him into a confession, it would probably work too, just imagining Shay among enticing rows of lace and frill had his head spinning already.

“Sure, she just happened to forget to pick up her wedding night babydoll…Here put this on for me.” Cash said slightly breathless as he held up the sundress with an obvious blush on his cheeks. Shay raised her eyebrow at him again adorably, taking a longer sip of her latte and another nibble out of the pastel cookie.

“Hmmm, how did you know Wacoal sells wedding night babydolls, Cashton? That dress is a little fancy to just go shopping, are we going somewhere special?” Shay asked, her green eyes looked curious and sheepish as they met his but the hopeful tone that came out in her voice towards the end made Cash’s heart melt. It amazed him how Shay could be so fully self-aware and amazingly quick-witted but still not know Cash would die to make even the smallest thing feel special for her. Cash wasn’t sure why such a thing surprised him because their spat at lunch yesterday confirmed she didn't remember the fact that they had talked and seen each other two years ago…

“Yeah, I’m taking you out for brunch darling, so go get ready alright…” Cash said softly, trying not to let his brain get lost in such a hurtful memory. He focused on the pretty, yet sheepish smile she gave him before bouncing off to her bathroom to change. Cash let out a deep sigh and took a seat on the couch. Shay emerged from the bathroom sometime later, with her blonde hair in voluminous waves, her bangs cascading over her forehead and her makeup effortlessly applied, the floral sundress fit her new figure perfectly. Cash couldn’t explain it, but she looked like summer to him, soft, delicate, and warm in a way that evoked nothing but love and happiness within him. Cash forgot where he was for a second as he watched her walk towards her closet to fetch a pair of shoes.

“Pick the closed toed Gucci wedges, the restaurant apparently has a thing against sandals” Cash said with a small smirk on his face, Shay poked her head outside of the closet door for a moment and cutely arched an eyebrow at him from across the room. Cash chuckled under his breath, already having a general idea of what stopped her so abruptly in her cute tracks.

“Cashton Ewing knows designers now and yet, chooses to dress like a cute little mechanic.” Shay said with an amused note of disbelief in her voice before disappearing into her closet and reemerging with the shoes he had recommended. Cash couldn’t help but blush under her gaze, but it was mostly because the only reason he knew designers like that was because he’d seen her shopping on fifth avenue a few times… or trailed her there, its all the same to him really, no need to get technical…

“I’m a man of many talents Cherry Blossom. You and Daisy made Pete and I go to the mall with you almost the entirety of eighth grade, I was bound to learn a thing or two. Do you really think I look like a cute mechanic?” Cash said in a teasing tone, watching Shay’s cheeks tint a delightful shade of pink as she focused her attention on strapping on the designer shoes.

“Oh boy, I think I just saw your head grow three sizes, remind me to never use the word cute again. I know you went shopping with me and all, but you didn’t seem to like it, so I’m still allowed to be surprised Officer Ewing. I think I’m ready to go.” Shay said as she finished strapping on her shoes, Cash watched her rise to her feet and straighten out her dress before grabbing her purse off her nightstand. She looked absolutely breathtaking, and Cash found his eyes wandering all over her body again with a newfound hunger.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that….and I, um, didn’t like shopping, but I liked being with you, so it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. I’m assuming I’ll be making the same sacrifice later this afternoon. The mall with all the designer stores is like ten minutes from the restaurant, you know Cherry Blossom.” Cash said, forcing himself to focus his wandering gaze back on her face. Shay gave him a very timid smile in reply to his compliment.

“Thanks…It���s really all Daisy’s fault if you think about it, if she hadn’t forgotten her skimpy wedding night attire, we wouldn’t even be in the general vicinity Cashy.” Shay said with the same timid smile on her face. Shay wandered over to her bedroom door and gently pulled it open before shuffling out into the hallway and made her way toward the kitchen.

“Yeah, you’re right, it really is all Daisy’s fault” Cash chuckled, following her out of her bedroom and through the empty kitchen of the still Harris house. They quietly walked out of the front door into the warm summer air and walked down the front porch steps. Cash couldn’t help the sheepish grin that spread across his face when Shay gazed up at him with an amused but knowing glint in her green eyes.

“You can drive my car if you want…” Shay said in a cute, pointed tone as she gazed up at him with a coy smile and another cutely arched eyebrow. Cash looked down at her, feeling a touch bashful under her gaze.

“Are you sure, Pete dropped my truck off last night after I tore into him for ditching us, it’s just in the garage” Cash said softly with a bashful blush spreading across his cheeks. Shay nodded her head as she stared up at him with a large amount of amusement swirling in her pretty green eyes. Cash always loved the way her green orbs sparkled in the sunlight and the way they tinted a unique shade of teal when Plymouth’s deep blue water reflected in them on those long days they used to spend at the beach.

“Yeah, parking will be easier with my car, so here you go Cashy” Shay chuckled, handing him her keys with a coy smile on her face. Cash gladly accepted the keys from her small hand, but he found himself resisting the urge to wrap her up in his arms and twirl her around like a ragdoll.

“Alright, after you princess” Cash crooned, bounding down the driveway. Cash opened the passenger door of the slick green Audi with a giddy grin on his face as he gazed over at Shay adoringly.

“Princess? “Shay chuckled softly, Cash watched her make her way down the driveway and plop down onto the car seat with a giddy looking grin of her own. Cash bit his lip and gazed down at her for a moment before making his way to the other side of the car and slid into the driver’s seat.

“You’ve always been my passenger princess Cherry Blossom, don’t act so surprised” Cash said in a soft playful tone as he slid the key into the ignition and started the car. Shay looked over at him with a soft blush on her cheeks, Cash gave her a teasing wink and began to back the car out of the driveway.

“That was because Pete and Daisy were always trying to swallow each other in the back seat, and you were the first one to get a car out of the four of us.” Shay said gazing up at him from her spot in the car. Cash flashed her a reassuring smile and switched the car into drive to begin their short trip up to Boston for the day.

“Don’t get me wrong Shay, I loved having you next to me, you know. I’ve had no one to tell me when I’m going the wrong way for seven lonely years. I’ve missed you; you know. I’ve missed you a lot Cherry Blossom” Cash admitted sincerely, his blue eyes were soft and a bit vulnerable when they met her green ones briefly, from across the car. Shay gazed back at him in silence for a long moment, her eyes felt like they were trying to see inside of him, but her lack of response made Cash think he might have said the wrong thing too soon…

“I missed you too Cashy” Shay finally replied, just above a whisper after her green eyes seemed to find whatever it was they were searching for. Cash practically beamed at her as he turned the car on to the expressway. Shay smiled back at him, and Cash took note of the way her green orbs seemed to sparkle at him the same way they usually sparkled in golden beams of sunlight. As they began their short drive Cash couldn’t help but wonder if the sun was ever really the reason, they sparkled to begin with...

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The drive up to Boston was relatively quick but Shay made more small talk with Cash on the drive up than she had in years. Cash could tell she was excited by the way she rambled on and on about her favorite places to grab food while she was in Manhattan, her excitement made his heart swell. Though, Cash couldn’t tell if she was excited about going shopping later or if she was excited to spend as much time with him as he was with her. Both were welcome reasons to him though because just talking to her still gave Cash butterflies and made his heart flutter. He had missed the way it was when things used to flow this easily between them. Something that hadn't really happened since that Valentine’s Day back in eighth grade, it marked the beginning of his crush on Shay but also the start of her no longer expressing her feelings to him openly.

Cash still remembered walking out of the theater and into the lobby to find Shay with red puffy eyes. She wouldn't tell him why she was crying but she sure looked happy when Cash asked her if she wanted to go ice skating with him instead. They ditched Pete, Daisy, and annoying Opal May and went to the local ice rink where they giggled and shared hot chocolate like they always did. He still remembered how the wind caught ahold of the dainty pink ribbon in her golden hair, sending it swirling through the evening sky and how the pair of them chased after it until they fell.

They laid out on the ice for some time, laughing so hard they were on the verge of tears and yet, all Cash could think about was how much he wanted to kiss her. Then it started to snow, and the rink lights swirled around her in a way that made her look so much like an angel to him, Cash thought maybe he died. They eventually collected themselves enough to sit back up just as the dainty pink ribbon floated down from the sky and pooled in his lap. By then it felt like Shay was staring into his soul and he got too nervous to kiss her the way he wanted to. Before he knew it, they were eating pizza in her bedroom while they watched some Harrison Ford movie on her TV, the same routine they’d had for years but something about the way they held each other that night felt different. Nothing ever quite beat the feeling of Shay falling asleep on his shoulder after that night. At least until today…

From the moment Cash stepped out of the car it felt like everything between him and Shay seamlessly fell into place, and they found themselves in a familiar, yet comfortable little spot they hadn’t quite been in since they were teenagers. Cash knew Shay must have felt it too, because she let him hold her hand all the way from Contessa’s entrance up to their intimate roof top dining room. Cash wished he had his camera to capture the adorable, awestruck look on Shay’s face when they stepped off that elevator and ventured into Contessa’s elegant upscale waiting room. The look on her face only got better when they were led through the sun-soaked dining room and were sat at an intimate half circle booth overlooking the Boston Public Garden upon his request. They laughed and they talked, then they drank, and they ate in a carefree way that reminded him of the movie nights they shared with pizza in his moms’ basement. Only instead of his mom’s basement, they just so happened to be at one of Boston’s top rated romantic restaurants overlooking the very cherry blossom trees Cash named her after. Sadly, the trees weren’t in bloom but as brunch progressed smoothly, Cash got the feeling that maybe his and Shay’s “Will they, won’t they” romance was…

As brunch went on, they managed to steer away from their small talk topics and actually start catching up with one another. Cash wasn’t sure what it was, but something about this meal and this conversation suddenly made him feel closer to Shay than he had in twelve years. And it wasn’t just because Shay had gotten comfortable enough to throw her small legs on top of his halfway through, though he was very much enjoying having her practically on top of him. Cash had somehow managed to get Shay to talk about what pushed her to take a sabbatical in the first place, much to his delighted surprise. She was rather forthcoming about the teensy tiny mental breakdown she had at work a few weeks ago when one of their clients asked her, in her opinion, the dumbest question she’d ever heard. Cash couldn’t really blame her; he’d encountered his fair share of dimwitted customers in those fleeting days he spent behind a coffee counter in his youth.

“If you think that was a stupid question you should try explaining to a disgruntled soccer mom why the iced coffee she ordered had ice in it. I spent twenty minutes explaining the fact that I couldn’t make our hot coffee cold without adding ice and, she tried to get me fired.” Cash chuckled, Shay giggled and took another bite of her French toast with a small smile on her face.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you become a fancy VP of investment banking anyway? As I recall Cherry Blossom, you always talked about wanting to be a fancy chef, you were pretty darn good at it too, I still have dreams about that Brown Butter and Sage Squash Risotto you used to make with the, umm, little round pieces of fish things...” Cash trailed, looking over at Shay with a faint blush on his cheeks, he always seemed to forget basic English whenever he was around her. It didn’t help that Shay’s pretty green eyes were practically sparkling at him again. Cash couldn’t help but admire the way the golden mid-morning sun streamed in through Contessa’s large windows all around her because it made Shay look more ethereal to him than ever.

“…The scallops…” Shay chuckled with amusement swirling in her eyes as she gazed up at him. “Yeah, the scallops, but that’s not nearly as fun to say. So, I think I’m going to keep referring to them as ‘little round pieces of fish things” Cash said playfully, Shay shook her head at him and giggled softly to herself in a way that reminded him of that night at the ice rink all those years ago.

“Yeah, you asked me to make that dish for you a lot, Cashy. My mom still complains that she can’t get the smell of thawing scallops out of her fridge, but dad won’t let her buy a new one because it still works. And you’re right, I never wanted to be a VP of investment banking, but I didn’t get accepted into that culinary program I wanted and it’s kind of hard to practice in a college dorm room kitchen. Doesn’t matter now anyway, I don’t really cook anymore…” Shay admitted, Cash nodded his head though there was a big part of him that seriously doubted she didn’t get accepted into that program. Especially if she didn’t get any of the letters, he’d sent over the past seven years…

“The place on Wall Street was just the first place to offer me a job after I graduated, so I took it and now here I am, highly doubting I’m even going to go back.” Shay sighed; her green eyes looked heartbreakingly defeated to Cash as they stared back into his blue ones. Cash gave her a reassuring smile, tightening the arm he still had snaked around the small of her waist while his free hand ran down the length of her small shoulder and arm in soothing motions. It had been so long since Cash had been presented the opportunity to comfort her in such a way. She looked much too frail for him to touch that Thanksgiving they talked in his bedroom.

“Well, what’s stopping you from applying to another program Cherry Blossom, if you’re really unhappy with the job you have now?” Cash asked softly, continuing the soothing passes he was making on her arm as he gazed at her with soft blue eyes. He saw a faint blush spread across her cheeks, but Shay made no effort to pull away, in fact, she leaned further into him. Almost like she was contemplating whether to give him a hug or to move onto his lap completely. The mere thought of her doing either of those options had familiar butterflies fluttering in Cash’s stomach. Part of him wanted to do both, to pull her onto his lap and hug her forever but given their little spat yesterday, Cash wasn’t sure if Shay would be open to it.

“I don’t know, I guess I just don’t know if it fits who I am anymore.” Shay replied softly. Cash gazed deeply into her green eyes for a long moment. He halted the soothing passes on her small arm and reached up to stroke her cheek with a tender sort of affection. Shay, once again, leaned into him and his touch the way she used to when they were just two kids seeking comfort. Cash remembered the day he vowed to always let Shay seek comfort in him, that night he crawled through her window wailing at the top of his lungs when he was only nine. It was the aftermath of his father’s worst alcoholic rage to date, the one that finally landed him behind bars though Cash was too battered to remember most of it. All he remembered was crawling through her window and the way both of them clung to each other so tightly. They screamed every time someone tried to separate them, both of them wholeheartedly refusing to let each other go. Shay ended up riding with him in the ambulance and spending the night with him in his hospital bed…

“You still seem like the same Cherry Blossom to me.” Cash crooned, dragging his thumb along the slope of her cheek gingerly because she deserved all the tenderness, he could muster for being the light in such an otherwise horrible memory. Shay’s green eyes softened a bit at him in a way that felt like she could see his soul the same way he saw hers.

“Is that a bad thing…” Shay said, her voice sounded vulnerable this time and her eyes looked unbearably fawn like as they stared back at him. Cash shook his head, still stroking her cheek with his thumb, he let a reassuring smile dance across his lips.

“Not at all, it means you were perfect to begin with Cherry Blossom. I think you should try your hand at cooking again, Shay, take this sabbatical as a sign that maybe New York just wasn’t what fit. They have a culinary school just over in Cambridge you know, you could move back home, follow your dream, and start over.” Cash said, never letting his smile waver or his thumb stop its passes over the soft skin of her rosy cheek. Shay’s plump lips curved into a soft smile and her eyes glittered with the slightest trace of amusement.

“Well, aren’t you just full of compliments and flattery today. Honestly, I wouldn’t know where to start with starting over, I haven’t been in a real kitchen in seven years.” Shay said, her voice was soft enough for her words to come out like a soft hum. It reminded Cash of the nights Shay used to sing under her breath when she thought he had fallen asleep. Cash may have feigned being asleep on more than a few occasions just to listen to her pretty voice. Of course, then he’d actually fall asleep because the lull of her voice was so soothing to him back then, Cash bet it still was.

“I’ll cook with you while you’re here, can’t promise you I’ll be any good, but I’m more than happy to help you out Cherry Blossom.” Cash said a bit over zealously, but it was enough to earn him one of Shay’s adorable giggles and one of her more tantalizing, coy smiles.

“I’m not so sure I trust you in a kitchen Officer Ewing.��� Shay said teasingly, Cash chuckled softly under his breath and halted stroking her cheek for the briefest second to give her one of his playful bops on the tip of her little nose.

“That’s rude Cherry Blossom, bad girl” Cash chuckled, Shay rolled her green eyes at his playful antics, but her coy smile had spread into a full-on grin by the time her eyes locked with his once more.

“I’m kidding, mostly…. If my memory serves me correctly, I’m not the only one here that didn’t end up with their dream job, as I recall you wanted to be a photographer. So how did you end up being a cop Cashy?” Shay asked with curious looking green eyes. Cash let out a soft sigh as he started to recall the interview, he missed at The Art Institute of Boston that summer before Shay went off to NYU. Cash had been trying to find the will to ask her to stay and put off her big city dreams for just one semester so she could apply to a school in Boston, but he didn’t want to be the person to hold her back. Truthfully, he only decided to go to the academy because he thought he could move to New York after he finished to be closer to Shay a lot sooner. That he’d be the one to shelve his dream instead because being with her was worth more to him, it didn’t matter though, by the time he saw her again, that Christmas, she was already dating Tyler.

“The same as you really, somewhere along the way I lost the passion for it and I didn’t think I was good enough at it to make a decent living, so I went to the academy…” Cash said softly, it wasn’t a total lie. After Shay left and started dating Tyler, he didn’t have the drive to go back to school and do what he wanted to.

“That’s not true Cash, you were more than good enough to make a decent living if you wanted to. You won the school photography show case three years in a row, you are very gifted.” Shay said with sincere green eyes that made Cash’s stomach do happy little flips. He could tell by the look in her eyes and the lull of her sweet voice, she meant every word and that was worth everything to him.

“Look who’s full of compliments and flattery now.” Cash said teasingly, he wondered if Shay had noticed all the bashful blushes, she had coaxed out of him today. Or if she could hear the way his heart was pounding again.

“I’m serious Cashy, they don’t just hand out first place awards to anyone you know. You should pick up a camera and take some pictures while you’re here. I have no doubts you’re still extraordinary.” Shay’s tone was surprisingly overzealous when she spoke to him this time and Cash couldn’t help but feel incredibly smitten. It was like he was fourteen again, blushing and hanging on to her every word like it was gospel.

“I won with pictures of you every year Cherry Blossom, I don’t think they were awarding the man behind the camera half as much as they were the pretty girl in front of it. Can’t say I blame them; you were my muse after all.” Cash crooned, finding that he was once again overcome with an almost primal urge to kiss her the same way he wanted to at the ice rink when he was fourteen. Cash cupped the side of Shay’s face in the palm of his large hand and gazed at her for what felt like an eternity, grappling with the idea but ultimately deciding it would be too much, too soon…

“Cash, if you agree to take a few pictures while you’re here, I’ll agree to cook something with you…” Shay said softly, her green eyes looked like they were searching his blue ones for something again. They always seemed to be doing that and Cash so wished he could ask her what it was she was looking for…

“Promise?” Cash asked, though the coy smile on Shay’s face was all the answer he really needed. Shay nodded her head in reply slowly, Cash felt his heart skip a beat when one of her small hands moved to mirror his action. He felt the soft skin of her delicate palm brush against the slope of his cheek in the same tender, affectionate caress he had hers.

“Promise” Shay said just above a whisper,

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After brunch, Cash and Shay set out to complete the tasks on Daisy’s Boston list. The two managed to maintain the harmonious dynamic they had fallen into back at the restaurant. They didn’t delve much deeper than that talk they had about their dreams, but Cash certainly thought it was a good start. At least he knew Shay didn’t dread being with him all that much, in fact she had confessed on the car ride up that she had missed him. Probably a fraction of how much Cash missed her but at least, she missed him. Which gave Cash enough hope that maybe there might be something between them after all and that maybe them working together might not all be for nothing. They mostly just laughed and talked about the past, the way you only do with an old friend with whom you share so many memories with. They ventured in and out of shops, ate ice cream, crossed a few of Daisy’s busy bee tasks off the to-do list. and walked up and down scenic Boston sidewalks before heading to that fancy mall with all the designer stores. Cash quite enjoyed watching Shay flit around the stores like a chipper little fairy as she tried on outfits and bought more stuff than she needed. Cash insisted on paying for at least part of it because Shay’s birthday just happened to be a couple days before Pete and Daisy’s over the top wedding.

 Shay timidly declined Cash’s offer to pay for anything with the cute excuse that “Brunch can be my gift Cashy, don’t worry.” Cash knew what she was doing though and promptly replied with

“You’re not going to trick me out of buying you a gift Cherry Blossom, I’m a cop not a peasant. I can afford to buy you something nice, trust me.”

And Cash did just that as soon as she slipped into the next dressing room. They eventually got around to discussing plans and ideas for the bachelor parties again but ultimately didn’t come to a consensus, but hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day. Luckily Shay seemed to be on the same page, she didn’t try to push Cash into agreeing to her idea, just yet… but both of them knew from years of experience, Cash was bound to cave eventually. At least where Shay was concerned that is. They decided to make the drive back down to Plymouth just before rush hour. When the golden late afternoon sun was high in the cloudless blue sky. The atmosphere on the car ride back was a bit different this time around, Shay was quiet, but Cash didn’t get the feeling she was upset. It was more along the lines of that comfortable silence they had fallen into at lunch the day before when it felt like everything that needed to be said was said. Obviously, Cash knew that wasn’t the case, they still had so much to talk about, so much baggage to unpack, so much that was left to be said. Cash supposed he could sum it all up for her, with three simple words. And he could, because they were true, and they reflected how he felt about Shay his entire life but for some reason those three words just didn’t feel like enough…

“Alright, I’ve got the bags princess” Cash said in a teasing tone that cut through the comforting silence, just as he turned Shay’s car back into the Harris driveway. Shay let out a soft chuckle and shook her head at him with a coy smile on her face.

“I don’t think you realize what a slippery slope you’re on, Officer Ewing. Today you took me to brunch, chauffeured me around, carried my bags all day, and tried to talk me into letting you buy me gifts for my birthday. You won’t be able get rid of me if you keep pampering me this way you know” Shay said coyly, Cash chuckled and turned the key out of the ignition before turning to gaze at her adoringly.

“Oh no, the most beautiful girl in Plymouth is going to attach herself to my hip! What ever will I do. You forgot, made you a latte with a pink heart in it, that you, didn’t even compliment.” Cash said with a mock pout on his face, Shay scoffed at him though her smile never faltered.

“That’s not true, I said it looked very pretty and I really did appreciate it Cashy. I’m still holding you to your promise to not wake me up before 9:30 however.” Shay said, giving him a pointed look before she opened her car door. Cash chuckled again, opening his own door before scooping up all of Shay’s new purchases and stepping onto the driveway.

“I have every intention of keeping that promise Shaylee Rose, as long as you hold up your end of the deal” Cash said following her up the Harris porch steps with an amused smirk on his face. He could hear Shay giggling under her breath at him as she unlocked the front door and held it open with an amused smirk of her own.

“And what was my end of the deal again?” Shay said in adorable mock confusion, Cash rolled his eyes to himself and walked into the still quiet Harris house. Cash made his way towards Shay’s room on a wave of familiarity and instinct, he sat all her shopping bags by her closet door before turning to look at her one more time. Shay looked at him, seeming to fall back in her sheepish proclivities from earlier this morning and a brief awkward silence hung in the air.

“So, I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow at 9:30 then…” Cash trailed, Shay nodded her head in acknowledgement but appeared to be lost in one of her daydreams. “Alright, then see later Cherry Blossom” Cash said having the sudden feeling that he was intruding. He made his way towards her window in long strides though he was well aware he could use the front door, using her window just felt right. So, Cash pushed the familiar white sill up and started his short journey home…

“Cash, wait” Shay’s voice came out sharply and suddenly, with enough tenacity to make Cash jump in surprise before he whirled around to look at her. Shay looked over at him with a bashful blush spreading on her cheeks.

“Yes princess?” Cash chuckled to himself, feeling both bashful and smitten under her gaze the same way he’d felt under her eyes since he was fourteen. Shay appeared to bite back a sheepish smile.

“Do you, uh, want to order a pizza and watch a Harrison Ford movie with me?” Shay asked, still looking incredibly sheepish. Cash nodded his head, over zealously again because he felt those familiar butterflies fluttering in his stomach when he turned to shut her window with a big grin on his face.

“Of course I do darling.”

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#thomas ian griffith #friends to lovers #cash x oc #cash ewing #summer romance