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norrizzandpia · 7 months

Note

I have one need and it is smut with Oscar so I was thinking something with Reader being lando's little sister and she's staying in Monaco with him but he has to go back to London for like 2 days which means she has the house all to herself and she invites Oscar over (who is her secret boyfriend) and they spend the night together (full of love and cuteness) but Lando comes home early and when he goes to her room to wake her up he finds her all cuddle up and cute with Oscar and he pretends he hasn't see anything because he just can't get over the fact that his little sister and teammate are together in that way

I LOVE THIS 👹👹👹👹👹👹

The Quiet Night and the Loud Morning (OP81)

Summary: It was bound to happen at some point.

Warnings: smut 🤭 CUTENESS OVERLOAD WITH BABY OSCAR 🤧🤧

Note: I JUST LOVE THIS IDEA

“Y/n?” Lando chirped from the other room.

“Yeah?” She answered, putting down the book she was reading to stare at the wall in concentration for his next words.

His footsteps filled the boring silence before he came into the living room, plopping down on the couch beside her, “I have to go to London for work for the weekend. I imagine you don’t want to come with because you just unpacked all of your stuff here, but, if you do, you can.”

She pondered the idea for a minute before Oscar’s smiling face was popping into her head and visions of an intimate weekend alone together flashed in her mind. At that, she looked up at her brother, feigning distaste, “No, I’m good. Thank you though.”

He nodded curtly as he got up from the couch, “Alrighty, no problem. I leave tonight, so I can be there tomorrow morning for the Saturday meeting. You’ll be okay alone here until Monday morning?”

Alone, her mind laughed, but her face told a different story, “Yeah. I’ll just watch a bunch of movies and live out my lazy life.”

Laughing, Lando retreated back to his room to pack, “No surprise there.”

—

“Osc!” Y/n yelped into her phone a few minutes after Lando’s car had left.

“Yes, baby?” He responded in his usual soft tone.

Her smile, though he couldn’t see it, made him smile as she said, “Lando had to go away for the weekend, so the house is completely empty. COME OVER!” She exclaimed, squealing loudly as she walked in circles around the kitchen island.

His laugh and rummaging of, what she could infer, was his bag and keys was what she was met with on the other side of the phone, “Okay, okay! I’m leaving as we speak. Should I bring a change of clothes?”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “Mmm, yeah, I would. I don’t plan on having you leave until the very last moment.”

Wishing he was already there to kiss her, Oscar threw a pair of pajamas and a random outfit into a duffel, “Sounds like a great plan, my love.”

—

Opening the door, Y/n flung her arms around her boyfriend. He stumbled back, laughing and kissing her forehead lightly with his arm around her waist as he took in his favorite scent.

“I missed you,” She whispered into his neck whilst he dropped his bag down so he could fully envelope her in his warm embrace.

“I missed you too, Y/n,” He whispered back before walking them into the house, leaving her for only a moment to grab his bag and throw it through the threshold.

Once the door was closed and they were truly alone, the couple went back to their previous position. It had been weeks since they were able to see each other, that is alone. They had seen each other a few days before, but with engineers and Lando around, stolen glances and lingering stares were all they could take.

“What do you want to do first?” He asked her, pulling back to take in the beautiful face which he had only been able to visit in his dreams for the past time.

His adoring smile made her blush and the way his hands pushed back her hair made her fall in love with him even more, “Movie? Did you have dinner?”

He nodded slowly, “I did, yeah. Did you?”

She shrugged, “Yeah, sort of. Lando leaving meant that we didn’t end up getting dinner and it threw me off, so I just had a granola bar.”

His eyebrows shot up, “Alright, so first thing’s first. We get you some dinner.”

“Oscar,” She whined, “You don’t even know how to cook.”

He shot her a look over his shoulder as he traveled toward the kitchen, “I can make you boxed pasta, Y/n.”

“Are you sure?”

—

Forty minutes later and Oscar was pushing a bowl of buttered noodles with cut up tomatoes and sausage toward Y/n who was sat sluggishly at the counter.

“You’re positive this is edible?” She asked hesitantly, eyeing the bowl as if it had just threatened her life.

His nodding head came into view as he sat beside her, one hand on her back and the other laying on the island, “Yes, baby. I’ve made it so many times before. Just eat please.”

One last glance toward him and she was nodding, allowing the hunger she felt to motivate her actions. Her big smile at the first taste told Oscar he hadn’t actually fucked up the recipe he had tried to execute without a sheet of paper telling him what to do.

Their conversation flowed as it always did, with loving comments and suggestive jokes. Y/n fell all over again for Oscar’s smile and Oscar fell all over again for Y/n’s character.

After she ate the last noodle, she smiled at him as he picked up her dish whilst laying a kiss on her forehead. He washed the bowl and put it in the dishwasher without evening flinching, as if it was his own home. Y/n couldn’t help, but dream of a time when it was really his home. His and hers.

Nevertheless, her wishing halted when he turned around and leaned against the sink, “Now, movie?”

His question was answered with Y/n whirling around in her chair to hop off and run toward the living room. He chuckled before following her, finding his girlfriend already curled up in all the blankets on the couch and sifting through all the streaming platforms to find something for them to watch.

“How about Minions?” She laughed, clearly amused with the movie choice.

However, what she thought would be a disgusted veto from Oscar was a warm smile and nod.

She stared at him, “You actually want to watch Minions?”

He shrugged, “I’ll watch whatever you want to watch.”

—

An hour later and the two had around thirty minutes left of Minions. Their bodies connected, legs tangled with his hands firmly placed around her torso as he pulled her flesh against him. She wasn’t even watching the movie, too comfortable on Oscar’s chest to move her head. He seemed to notice, laying his head on top of hers as he murmured, “We can go to bed?”

She shook her head as she lifted it from her comfortable place on him, “No, it’s okay.”

He smiled at her, a lazy smile that she knew was only meant for her, “Okay, love.”

His hands guided her back down, however, this time, he laid fully on the couch, so she could lay her entire body on his. With his hands in her hair then trailing up and down her back, Y/n whispered, “Ever think about a time when we could just do this without having to hide?”

He glanced down at her, “Yeah, sometimes, but we decided keeping it a secret was the best thing.” After seeing her hesitation, he added, “Right?”

Her hands pushed against his chest as she sat up, her thighs on each side of him as her hair fell down toward him, “Yeah, but…” When she bit her lip in nerves, he started rubbing her thighs, “I love you, Osc. I want to be with you outside of a room.”

He tilted his head on the pillow he laid against, a small smile evident on his features, “I love you too. Of course, I want to be with you in public too, but I always thought you were uncomfortable with it because of Lando.”

She nodded, “At first, yeah, but that was before I fell in love with you and realized I really saw you as the rest of my life. Honestly, I’m more uncomfortable being a secret with you than telling Lando.”

Oscar nodded eagerly, “Well, if that’s your perspective. I’m all in. I’ve always been all in with you. If you’re okay with telling everyone then let’s do it.”

Her face broke out into a grin, “Really?”

His nodding continued as he tucked her hair behind her ears and cupped her face, “Of course, baby.”

Whether it was Oscar who pulled her down first or Y/n leaning in on her own, the two never knew. All they knew was that their lips met and the realization that they were putting their entire beings into the hands of the other was evident. The thought made every touch and graze of hands gentler, softer. His hands lightly explored her hips before resting on her waist, pulling her closer to him as he slipped his tongue passed her lips.

Y/n moaned, a sound he had already committed to memory, and lightly rolled her hips against his.

He pulled back, “You sure? In your brother’s house?”

She giggled, the blush a deep red on her cheeks and nose, “I have a room we could go to.”

He nodded, lifting her up so swiftly off the couch and maneuvering through the directions she gave him to get where they needed to be. Through giggles and miscommunicated instructions, the two were lovesick by the time they reached her room and closed the door.

Usually, Oscar would stalk toward her, take what he wanted and be as rough as he knew they both wanted. Although, as he stood in front of her door, he gazed upon her as if she was the most beautiful sunset he had ever laid his eyes on.

A gorgeous view that he realized was the most perfect part of Earth.

He wasn’t quick to get her on the mattress, in fact, he took his time getting there. Through kisses and slow removals of clothes, he walked them back to her white duvet, laying her down and being so struck by her beauty even Y/n couldn’t deny it herself.

She watched as his eyes trailed from her shoulders, down to her boobs, then to her stomach, back up to go over her arms, then slowly down again to take in her thighs and the clothed space between them, her shins, and then back up to meet her eyes.

With a light smile, he whispered into the quietness of the moment, “You’re so incredibly beautiful, my love.”

She was halfway to tears when he leaned forward and kissed her so intensely, she felt it in her toes. With Oscar, it never felt casual and she never felt as if she was some random person he was bedding to fulfill fleeting urges.

It was always about the love he had for her.

Oscar’s hand grazed the length of her body as it traveled down and disappeared below her panties, his lips never stopping on hers. With precision and thought, he began to gently circle her clit, easing her into the pleasure as he always did. His other hand held himself up above her as she moaned into his mouth, a sign that he could speed up.

Her hand on his bicep and the other around his waist, Oscar replaced the finger on her clit with his thumb and slid his digit into her.

She had tried to keep kissing him, but he could tell she needed to have the space and air to be vocal. So, he pulled away slightly, a small gap between them large enough that he could admire her blissed out face while also being impossibly close to her.

Her eyes closed and her moans continued as Oscar added another finger and sped up. Quiet whimpers made Oscar whisper, “I love how you sound, baby. Always do.”

At that, she moaned louder, chanting his name as he continued to increase his rhythm before the coil in her stomach was snapping and she was coming around all over his hand. His toothy, lopsided grin was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes again, an innocent, adoring smile on his face as if he hadn’t just made her cum.

“I’ve never seen someone so beautiful.” He whispered into her mouth before kissing her, trying to allow her a breath before they went to the next level.

Her nervous smile told him he needed to continue, “I’m serious, Y/n. You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid my eyes on. I’m not just being this way because I feel romantic. No, I’m doing this because, while sometimes I can contain myself, right now I can’t. You’re so pretty to me. Every time I look at you, I notice a new thing to fall in love with. Whether that’s the faint freckles on your nose or the mole right at the top of your leg, I’ve never loved every inch of someone the way I do with you. I’m so hellbent on kissing every part of you, physically loving you as a whole. I love how I can remember the way you smell and whenever I come across it I think of you and how much I love you. I love how soft and warm your hugs are after a hard day or a bad race. I never want to let you go because I know I’ll never find anything, anyone, as beautiful as you.”

Her teary eyes were remedied with a long kiss at the end of his speech as he slowly took off her panties and slipped off his after. His eyes boring into hers and whispering how much she meant to him, Oscar pushed into her.

His building pace made her eyes roll back into her head and his groaning into her neck.

A chant of “You’re the only one I want to ever do this with” leaving his lips as his hips rocked against hers.

“Oscar,” She moaned, nails digging into his back as he continued to go faster.

“Y/n, so good. So so perfect for me.” He moaned, pulling back to look her in the eyes and throughly communicate how much she meant to him.

Her hands tangled in his hair and he moaned loudly, “Fuck, Y/n, just like that.”

Her moaning continued, body going limp at the consistent pleasure surging through her body. When Oscar’s hand came to cup her cheek and pull her to his lips, kissing her with all his might and letting her know she wasn’t the only one so obsessively consumed by the connection they shared, she lost it.

Her moans turned into screams as he snapped his hips faster, chasing his high, but, most importantly, hers.

Looking her in the eyes, Oscar’s soft ones encouraged her, “My love, let go. I’m right here with you. Always.”

With that, she came hard around him, yelling out his name as he came right after her.

When, during times with other boyfriends, she would feel used and filthy, with Oscar, as he laid slightly on top of her, she felt special. She felt like she was the only person to have ever understood him for who he truly was.

She felt cherished.

She felt protected.

She felt wanted.

And, yes, she felt loved.

Turning over, her eyes met his and she smiled.

“Thank you,” She murmured as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Y/n, you don’t need to thank me for an orga-” He began.

“No,” She interrupted, looking into his eyes and making him understand, “Thank you for showing my what love is.”

His eyes softened, his hands immediately pulling her into him again and drawing the blankets over their naked bodies, “Baby, you mean everything to me.”

She nodded, smiling back at him, “I think I’m starting to see that.”

—

Lando’s confused face appeared again when his sister didn’t answer her phone. Irritatingly, he had only needed to go into one meeting, so he was off the hook by the morning. He didn’t want to stay in London, choosing the option of hanging out with his sister as the more important one, so he had caught the next flight out of Heathrow.

Private jet be damned.

Although, when he pulled up to his house and she still hadn’t answered, he thought it was bit strange. It was eleven am and she was usually up at this time, tired, but up.

Nevertheless, he figured she had stayed up late last night and slept in way late. That inference was confirmed when he walked through the door and it was dead silent.

However.

What he didn’t expect to see was an all too familiar duffel bag sitting on the floor of his foyer. The orange letters that spelled out ‘Oscar Piastri’ accompanied with the McLaren logo gave him whiplash.

There had to be some reasonable explanation, he thought, there was absolutely no way his teammate was here. Alone. With his sister.

Being the nosy person he is, Lando opened the bag and peered in to see the belongings, wanting to confirm it held Y/n’s things. Maybe he leant it to her, he tried, but when he saw men’s underwear and a box of condoms, his jaw fell agape.

Standing up abruptly, Lando made his way to his sister’s room. When his hand met the coolness of the door handle, he said a silent prayer to any supernatural being out there that could stop the inevitable from meeting his eyes. Per usual, that plead went unheard when he pushed the door open quietly and saw Y/n, his sister, asleep in bed with Oscar’s, his teammate, arms holding her strongly to his chest. His little sister’s face was toward him as it laid on the bare chest of Oscar, giving him the ability to see how peaceful she looked, more peaceful than she usually looked when unconscious.

Suddenly feeling like he was intruding on an intimate moment, Lando shut the door.

His brain reeling, he sat himself on the living room couch, no clue what had taken place on that very sitting area not even twenty four hours before. He sat with his thoughts for an hour or two before he heard the door to his sister’s room jostle and, finally, open. Out stepped a giggling Oscar and a smiling Y/n, a sight to see in Lando’s mind, as they failed to see the other person in the room.

“I think that might’ve been the best sex we’ve ever ha-” Oscar’s face went pale when he turned to walk toward the kitchen only to meet the face of Lando, the last person he wanted to hear that sentence come out of his mouth.

At his abrupt stop, Y/n turned around as well, jaw agape as she screeched, “LANDO?!”

His hands rested on his knees as he looked at the two of them. What a good couple they would make, he thought, seeing how Y/n was more comfortable in herself around him.

“I got let off early so, I came home. Didn’t expect this though.” His eyebrows wiggled as Y/n approached him, a paralyzed in fear Oscar behind her, “Lan, I am so so sorry you found out this way. We wanted to tell you on our own-”

The brother shook his head, “No, I get it. I’m not mad. Shocked, yes, but, not mad at all. I’m just happy you found someone as good as him.”

Her entire demeanor softened as she glanced back to Oscar, his mind slowly coming back to him, before turning back around and smiling, “Me too.”

1K notes · View notes

kimsmuse · 9 months

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yandere dilf !!

this was written in gaps, so im not that confident about it?? but here goes nothing. also i fucking love dilfs god. get me a dilf please.

also this was inspired by this one man i saw on my way to my uni admissions and he was there for his daughter 💀 put me in jail fr

the dilf here is in 40s something and the reader in early 20s n i think she switched universities to do her master’s (if you do not like this type of thing please look away <3)

gender neutral!reader (it might be implied femal but the pronouns are they/them) 1.7k words. warnings for age gap yandere behavior, kidnapping, manipulation, obsessive behaviour? dilf is a delusional yandere fr.

yandere!dilf who is (clichè i know, please look away but this is the best thing i can think of) your father’s friend, but not best friend or anything because he lives in another city, but oh you’re moving there for uni and your parents can’t think of anybody else to contact so they call him up !!

but he’s busy when you’re moving so he can’t help :(( oh but did i tell you he was the one who chose that apartment for you to move into?? it was so close to him and his friend said to keep an eye on you so he chose the one which wasn’t even like 5 minutes away. and he wants to be of help to his friend so bad but these board meetings and stuff ://

best believe that when he’s free he’s at your apartment with a bunch of new home essentials, a few groceries that you might need, and this man is ringing up your door. now neither of you had seen each other, heard about the other from the common point that was your father, yes. but to open the door and be in the presence of a man that is that gorgeous?? and he’s just wearing sweatpants and a tshirt?? god.

not to mention a thin chain around his neck that leads to inside his shirt…. kill me really.

anyway, but he’s equally taken back because um, this was his friend’s kid. literal kid. he shouldn’t be thinking about how alluring your appearance was, get your head straight, he tells himself, as you invite him. aren’t the shorts too short….

if sexual tension could have been visible, man would your apartment be full of it.

but he’s nothing but resisting, it’s how he has been single for so long, it’s not that he doesn’t like commitment, but… he likes to tell everyone that he just hasn’t found his The One yet.

“the apartment has come together nicely,” he says as he looks around and it is, you’ve done a great job at it and it reflects the type of person that he assumes you are.

you ask him if he wants something to drink? and he politely rejects your offer, he does not want this thing to escalate because knowing his track record, he can’t stand a minute more near the kitchen island and not think about bending you over, and that was normal for him but god, snap out of it, this is half your own age, he thinks to himself.

and you want him to stay, but again, it is quite fucked up to think about being fucked by your father’s friend and someone your father’s age.

“here,” he gives you all the stuff he brought with and kept it. “that’s all, i have some work i need to do so i’ll take your leave now,” he starts to leave when he looks back again “and, um, my number,”

to which you blush, but remind yourself, it’s only like an authority figure, nothing else. and he tells you his own address, in case there’s ever an emergency.

that is how it begins, and your father leaves a message for him, “please take care of them,” and he acts like it’s a burden but he’s overjoyed inside, he has an excuse…

anyway, fast forward to you starting university, getting a social circle, and he visits you weekly, awkward and short visits but you’re just glad he can grace your apartment like that, you even light up your special candles around for him to notice, and he does, but you don’t know how hard he’s just trying so hard to not snap.

when it’s been almost an year or something, he finally thinks he should sit down or you’ll catch on to him or something (little does he know that all you though of it was the fact that men like him are always busy.)

“so you’ve settled in okay?” he asks, as if the cctv installed outside your door doesn’t already tell him that you bring a steady flow of people home, friends.. un-friends and people he was genuinely jealous of. he was jealous of your friends too, because he desperately wanted to stay platonic with you and he didn’t know how they did that.

the conversation flows from one point to other and suddenly you ask him, “are you married?” and he looks startled at the question so quickly begin to apologise, you did not mean to overstep any boundaries.

“uh, i don’t know, i just haven’t found someone who i would like that much, i guess,” if the tension before was a lot, this was the worst it could get.

he leaves abruptly again, and you watch from your balcony as he pulls his car out of the parking and out, wishing he stayed sometime.

what you did not know though was the fact that the yandere was fully invested in your life, your friends, your daily errands. but this was what taking care of you meant, right?

the last straw came to him when you were at a party, frustrated by the lack of response that older man was giving you, you were desperate to get laid today even if you would end up being upset over the fact that it wasn’t him. but unknown to the fact that the yandere just had this.. odd feeling today? that he has to follow you and when he got to know it was a party? parties are never good news.

and he’s almost dozing off 2 hours later in his car, parked safely at a distance when he think he hears your voice. and sure enough when he takes a peek out, across the street is you, and wait, is that a guy following you.

“i was just kidding i really don’t want to go home with anybody tonight.”

he gets out of the car silently, and the guy who is insistent on getting his dick wet by specifically you, a statement which makes his blood boil, is too busy persuading you to notice the punch that the dilf throws at him from behind. the yandere doesn’t think about what you’ll ask about how he got there and stuff, this was serious and it only reaffirms his ideals that yes, he had to make sure you were safe and he had to follow you, god knows what would have happened if he wasn’t there.

as soon as the guy is knocked out, he looks at you and you look up at him surprised, your mouth forming an ‘o’ but noticing the haze in your eyes, he can feel relief inside.

“you’re here!” you exclaim and you are drunk, he concludes as you hug him. he might actually burst but he feels euphoric right now, as if he could cry, it was like he had this actual fear, what would he do if something happened to you? it was no longer the responsibility or the feeling of being answerable to your dad.

don’t worry after that, he drives you home, but his home. he has to make sure you’re safe at all times, right? what if someone decided to rob your place? or… the guy from earlier? what if he got your address from one of your friends? he couldn’t imagine it.

so there might be a change in plans, you don’t need to tell your dad yet though, or anybody. in fact, you might not need to go out at all. he made more than enough to sustain, and keep you safe, take care of you, like your dad asked, and he is nothing but a loyal friend, isn’t he?

now let's dive into little specifics, shall we?

yandere dilf is completely smitten, he was the first moment he saw you but right now you're at his mercy, and it gave me a hysterical kind of high.

and he is so so convinced that he's doing what he can to protect you and this is allthat can be done, there's no other way!

he brings you bits and pieces of news that are the most terrible of them all - murders, rapes, all of the worst stuff, so you realize how much of a favour the yandere is doing you by protecting you.

and your dad? as far as he's concerned, you're still going about your daily routine, there’s nothing wrong with it. he makes you call him because he doesn't want to deal with his friend, not yet.

yandere dilf is caring but he's also really short tempered, if he brings you food and you eat it silently without saying anything, he'll snap :(( because you should have said the food was good or you were happy that he brough you that, right?

but he realizes his fault quite soon, he was mature, he shouldn’t act this way with you. and he apologises, someone tell this man an apology means you would try not to do it again. because he does, he keeps on repeating the cycle.

at first you were completely opposed to whatever this weird idea was, but slowly you gave in, when you realized the heights he had thought all of this through to, all you could hope was someone to notice that this wasn't normal and help you. well, someone to notice and try to help you and not be bought off by the money that the yandere dilf gave them.

yandere dilf coddles you; at first this is how he got to break your shell, he patted your head when you did something good, something like eating, drinking water. and you loved it, as much as you hated to admit it, sometimes it felt like you put in so much efforts in your daily life to get people to love you, that it felt like a relief that here he was praising you for doing the smallest of tasks.

yandere dilf does not fuck you. he keeps himself in control, he does not even touch you if you're angry or upset at him, but he knows a few ways and he's bringing you around slowly to the idea of a you and him together creating an us.. he's getting there slowly and surely.

just… please.. don't try to escape or anything, that would really set the process back… or would it accelerate it…?

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coldfanbou · 2 months

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Trying For More

Jeongyeon tells how she feels before an interruption in this chapter, and Jihyo refuses to back down as we enter a new competitive stage.

Length 2.9K

Jeongyeon x Mreader x Jihyo

Previous Part

Next Part

You wake in the morning to a text from Jeongyeon. “I want to meet at your place so no one will bother us. Do you think that’s possible?” You agree, and soon you hear a knock at your door. You check the peephole and see Jeongyeon on the other side. She wore an oversized blue wool coat with a small hood over her head as she shivered. You let her inside, asking her if she’d like a coffee. She takes you up on your offer and sits by the kitchen island as you make it for her.

“When you sent that text, I didn’t expect you to be waiting at my door.”

“I…just really needed to talk to you.”

“What about?” You ask, your back turned to her. Jeongyeon fiddles with her fingers, slowly regaining feeling in them. She considers how to bring up the subject. You turn around when she doesn’t answer you. “Jeongyeon, what did you want to talk about?”

Jeongyeon stares at the counter, “Our relationship.” She says softly. “I don’t- I mean,” Jeongyeon’s head is a jumbled mess as dozens of thoughts whiz past. She thought about her relationship with you, your relationship with Jihyo and Dahyun. Jeongyeon wanted to say thousands of things, but nothing would come out. She doesn’t notice when you sit beside her, only realizing when you place the cup of coffee in her hands.

“Take your time, Jeongyeon. I have nothing planned for today.” She stares into your eyes and gives you a slight nod, her smile hiding itself. She brings the coffee to her lips, taking a small sip before placing it on the counter.

“It’s just that I know you’ve been seeing Jihyo and Dahyun.” She pauses for a moment, gathering herself. “I know it’s wrong, but I want to be the only one. I know this was just supposed to be sex, but…do you remember our first night together?”

“On vacation?”

“That night. I felt special. Yeah, Jihyo was there, but it was the way you treated me. I thought that I was unwanted, but you, you made love to me.” Jeongyeon stops again, sighing. “It’s silly, isn’t it? To you, it was probably just sex.” There’s a sad smile on her face. You consider your words wisely, but before you can say anything, Jeongyeon continues. “Still, I-I want you to love me. So I’m giving myself to you. Anything you want, I’ll do. I just want you to stay with me. So please-” Jeongyeon stops talking as you pat her back.

“Jeongyeon, please stop. You’re acting as if sex is everything to me. There are a lot of problems here. First, giving yourself to me isn’t going to change a thing.” Jeongyeon looks at you, fear in her eyes, the thought that you would leave her paralyzing her. “As much as you might think I’m just in this for the sex, I’m not. I’ll be honest, Jeongyeon. Yes, I have spent time with Jihyo and Dahyun. I even got dragged into a threesome with Momo and Mina last night.” Jeongyeon’s heart dropped as she heard that. “The thing is, I like spending time with you. More than just sex, I love working with you and being around you. You’re still a married woman, though. I want to get married at some point and have a few kids.” Your thoughts begin to wander for a moment.

“Are you saying you want to get married?”

“What I’m saying is that our relationship can only be like this as long as you are. I’m not saying anything else. Things are complicated, Jeongyeon.” Jeongyeon lowers her head and nods.

“The offer still stands. I’m yours. You can do whatever you want with me. I know we can’t officially be together, but I still want to be with you.” Your phone starts to go off at that moment. It was Jihyo. Jeongyeon sees as much, and she tells you to answer it.

“Good Morning! Are you home right now?”

“Yes?”

“Perfect.” Jihyo hangs up, and there’s a knock at your door. You don’t know how she got your address, but sure enough, standing outside was Jihyo.

“How do you know where I live?” You ask, standing in the doorway.

“I asked Sana,” Jihyo replies with a smile. “She told me you lived here.” Jeongyeon comes up behind you, pressing her chest against your arm. You look over to see her bare chest. She must’ve taken off her clothes before showing herself to Jihyo. Jihyo looks surprised to see Jeongyeon standing there. “I see you already have a guest. Another wouldn’t hurt, right?” She says, pushing her way into your home. Jihyo takes a seat on your couch. You turn to Jeongyeon to see her naked body; her beautiful curves attract your attention. Jeongyeon smirks and presses her hand against your crotch.

“Let me take care of you before we go to her,” Jeongyeon says as she kneels before you. She pulls down your shorts and fishes your cock out, stroking it slowly. Before taking it into her mouth, she slaps her cheeks with it. This side of Jeongyeon turns you on. She was usually a little shyer when you had sex, but today, she was taking the lead. Jeongyeon moves her hand down your shaft as she plants her lips on the head. You stifle your moans as you feel her tongue swirl around the head. Jeongyeon’s soft hand cups your balls, gently squeezing them. She placed her other hand on your thigh, supporting herself as she began to bob her head.

“Oh fuck, Jeongyeon.” Her tongue moves up and down the sides of your shaft, coating it in her saliva before she moves down your shaft. She pulls away, choosing to slide her lips along your shaft and coat her cheeks in spit. Jeongyeon slides her hand down to her slit, moving her fingers along her folds as she pleasures you.

Jihyo walks back toward the entrance, seeing that you were taking too long to follow her. She sees Jeongyeon fingering herself as she gives you a blowjob. Not one to be beaten, Jihyo reaches for the hem of her shirt and tosses it to the side. She wasn’t wearing any sort of bra, and as her shirt flew to the floor, you watched her heavy tits bounce. She kneeled beside Jeongyeon, taking the side that Jeongyeon was ignoring. Jihyo ran her lips along your shaft like Jeongyeon. You moaned their names, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. They glared at each other for a brief second before turning their gaze to you. “I’m going to cum,” you moan. Jeongyeon presses her tits together, dragging her nipples along your shaft. Seeing this, Jihyo does the same. You reach your peak quickly and cover their tits with your cum. The thick white liquid coats the tops of their breasts. Jeongyeon stares at the amount on her chest while Jihyo scoops some up and licks her finger clean as you watch.

“It’s just as good as I remember it,” Jihyo says with a moan as she stands up. She unclips her skirt and lets it drop to the floor before stepping out of it. “I’m going to need a lot more, and I want it all to go right here.” Jihyo grabs your hand, running it along her slit. “I’m wet and ready for you.” She says with a smile on her face. Jeongyeon, not one to back down, grabs your other hand and does the same. Her slick coated her thick thighs, and Jeongyeon pushed your fingers inside where you could feel her walls clamp down around you.

“I want to be together,” she says quietly as she leads you to the bedroom. You find yourself on your bed with Jihyo and Jeongyeon on either side of you, both women holding onto your cock. They stroked it together, neither wanting to give the other space to make a move. Figuring that they would be like this forever if you let them, you lean up and pull Jeongyeon down next to you. Jeongyeon lets go for a moment and opens her mouth to protest when you kiss her. It was soft and immediately stopped Jeongyeon. Your hand snaked around her body until it found her chest; you gave her breast a soft squeeze, drawing out a moan from Jeongyeon. Once you break the kiss, Jeongyeon asks, “Why did you do that?” She wondered why you chose to have Jihyo go first.

Once Jeongyeon had let go, Jihyo moved quickly, positioning herself above you and pressing the tip against her cunt. You moan as you feel her cunt consume you, her walls clamp down around your cock, tighter than the last time you were with her. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, just for you,” Jihyo says before leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek. She leans back, letting you take in the sight of her body, from her toned stomach to her great tits and pretty face. Jihyo placed her hands on your thighs to support herself as she began to move, raising herself up and sliding down your shaft until you were buried inside her. You both moaned, loving the pleasure you got from the other. You turn your head to Jeongyeon, kissing her as you squeeze her breast again. She whimpered, the small bits of pleasure turning her on but leaving her wanting more.

“Jeongyeon, can I have some of your milk?” You boldly ask. Jeongyeon felt her face turn bright red. She felt embarrassed being asked such a thing, especially in front of Jihyo. Still, she agreed, giving you a slight nod and pushing her chest out for you. She had to move up slightly; you took that chance to play with her ass. As you attached yourself to her sensitive nipple, you spanked Jeongyeon. Jeongyeon whined as she felt your tongue swirl around her hard bud. The slow, calculated moves made her a mess, especially when she felt your hand smack against her bottom. When you began to suck, Jeongyeon wrapped her arms around your head and moaned as you got your taste of her milk.

Jihyo found the sight before her erotic; her body got hot as she bounced on your cock. She felt a pang of jealousy as she watched you nurse from Jeongyeon’s tit. She reached up with one hand and groped her bouncing tit. Her fingers flicked at her nipple, causing more moans to fill the room. She slowed down her riding, using the muscles she trained to strangle your cock. She could feel the head of your cock rubbing against her walls. She loved it, and sank lower, having every inch inside before she popped up.

Jihyo’s pussy was bringing you close to another orgasm; knowing as much, you bucked your hips, surprising her. Jihyo groaned as she felt the sudden movement. As much as Jihyo had worked to make you cum quickly, she found herself on the edge too. She had played with her body too much. You tapped around Jihyo’s body until you found her waist, and with one hand, you dug your hand into her smooth skin. With your grip on her, you began to thrust into Jihyo. “Ah! Wait! I’m supposed to be in control!” Jiyho cried as she felt your cock reach into her deepest parts. “Shit, I’m cumming.” Jihyo moaned as her body twitched. You felt her walls tighten around your shaft as she came. You followed suit right after; you buried yourself inside Jihyo, shooting your cum into her cunt. Jihyo’s hand slips off your thigh, and she falls back onto the bed, your cock slipping out and spurting the last bit of cum onto her stomach.

In the heat of the moment, you bite down on Jeongyeon’s tit, the pain and pleasure of it mix together, and she moans. You release your grip quickly and pull away, seeing the bite mark you've left. You go back in and kiss her breast. “Sorry about that, Jeongyeon. I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

“It’s okay. I’m yours, remember?” Jeongyeon rolls onto her back and spreads her legs for you. Her hand snakes its way down her body until it reaches her cunt; she slowly spreads her lips showing you just how wet she is. “I need you. Please.” You climb over Jeongyeon, the tip of your cock slapping against her slit as it twitches. Jeongyeon extends her arms out, waiting for you to make the first move. You grab your cock, pressing it against her entrance before pushing the first couple of inches inside. As you push more inside, you lower yourself, letting Jeongyeon wrap her arms around you. Her embrace is warm; you feel her chest rise as she takes deep breaths, her breasts rubbing against your chest.

You pull out slowly, letting the feeling linger before pushing back into Jeongyeon’s warm cunt. You kiss Jeongyeon to quiet yourselves as you begin to thrust. Jeongyeon keeps her arms wrapped around you, refusing to let you go as you thrust into her. Your hands caress her body, giving her thighs loving squeezes. “I love you,” Jeongyeon whispers in a hushed tone. You couldn’t make out what she said and continued to thrust. Jeongyeon moaned your name as she ran her fingers through your hair. You kissed Jeongyeon’s neck; she would tilt her head back, giving you more space to work with.

After a couple of minutes, you felt a weight on your back. Jihyo was pressing her tits against you. “Are you two having fun?” Jihyo pushes you deeper into Jeongyeon with her weight. You both moan loudly; Jeongyeon can feel the tip of your cock kissing her womb. Her body shivers, and she nearly cums from the feeling. With Jihyo’s help, you’re able to hit that spot consistently. Jeongyeon begins to whine and hold your head against her chest as she cums. She squeezes your sides with her thighs, and you can feel her walls clamp down on your cock. You kiss her womb one more time as you cum. You paint Jeongyeon’s walls white as you fill her pussy with your baby batter. You remain buried inside Jeongyeon after your orgasm ends, her walls still tightly wrapped around you as you pull out. As soon as you are out, Jihyo’s hand finds your cock, stroking it. “I’m so glad we have all day to have fun. Aren’t you happy, Jeongyeon?” As you turn your eyes back to Jeongyeon, you see her fingering herself, your cum out of her. You take in the image of Jeongyeon; legs spread, fingering herself with a blissful look in her eyes.

“We should take a break.” You say, trying to give yourself some more time to recover.

“I have a better idea,” Jihyo says as she nibbles on your ear. “How about we do this.” Jihyo gets in between you and Jeongyeon, crawling over her friend until she’s face to face with her. Jihyo steals a kiss from Jeongyeon as she presses her clit against the younger woman’s. “Don’t you want to go another few rounds before we rest?” Seeing their pussies pressed against each other gets you hard, and you decide to dive into a few more rounds with the duo.

By the end, both women’s lower halves were covered in cum and their nectar. You got out of bed and headed to the kitchen for a drink when Jihyo came soon after, cum running down her legs. She turned you around and stroked your cock as she pressed her tits against you. “So, how was it? Did you enjoy my little trick?”

“It felt really good, Jihyo.”

“It must’ve, look at how much cum I have in me.” She says while spreading her lips, causing more to come rushing out of her. Jihyo moves her hand up and down your shaft slowly. “You know, with all this cum I could get pregnant again,” She whispers into your ear. “You twitched. Does that excite you? The thought of getting this good little housewife pregnant.” You moan as Jihyo continues to stroke your cock. “Jeongyeon said her body was yours. I don’t want to lose out to her, so the same goes for me.” Jihyo stops stroking your cock and takes your hands, placing them first on her tits and working her way down. You soon reached her ass. “I have another secret I’ve been working on.” Jihyo drops her hands and turns around, bending over slightly and spreading her cheeks. “You can try this too. I bet Jeongyeon hasn’t let you get anywhere near it, huh?”

Jeongyeon was around the corner at that time, overhearing the conversation. She thought about what she had to do and what she said to you. She said her body was yours, and she meant it. Jeongyeon made a mental note to look at anal after the day was over. For now, she was going to make her presence known. She came around the corner and went straight for you. “Hey, let's get back to bed. Or if you want to shower, I can clean your body.” Jeongyeon presses her tits against your arm and gets on her tippy toes. “I also have more milk if you want to drink some more.” You consider your options, knowing that more sex is inevitable. Seems like this would be your day. Part of you wishes it was a work day; you needed a small break from all the sex.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #twice smut #jihyo smut #jeongyeon smut

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lovebugism · 3 months

Note

blurbcember!!!

omg how about the prompt 14. the power goes out in our apartment building, but i’m not prepared for this, and you come to check on me with steve because neighbor!au has a special place in my heart 🤭😔

i'm definitely late for this request but i couldn't stop thinking about it! hope you like it angel! — your pretty next door neighbor keeps you company when the power in your building goes out, along with a couple of his friends (neighbors to lovers, fluff, 1.6k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

“I think I have cabin fever.”

“Eddie, shut up— it’s been five minutes,” Steve scolds from the darkened kitchen, where he’s trying to save the newly purchased beer from the warming fridge. He stacks the bottles neatly in a small, square cooler. It won’t keep them cold for long, but hopefully until the power comes back on.

“Soon we’ll have to decide which one of us to eat,” the wild-haired boy continues, still lazing on the couch with a beer in his hand. It stains a damp circle on the thigh of his jeans. He’s not at all fazed by the sudden outage.

“Remind me not to get stranded on an island with you.”

Aglow with orange candlelight, Robin shrugs from the adjacent sofa. She tilts her head on the arm of it to see Eddie more clearly. “The right answer is obviously Steve.”

“Obviously,” Eddie concurs.

“It’s ‘cause he’s so muscly.”

“And he eats, like, super healthy—”

Steve huffs and lugs the chunky cooler back into the living room, cradling the weighty thing with both arms. “Can both of you shut up about pretend cannibalism and help me with the door?”

The conversation stops. They turn to blink at him across the dim room, their faces swirled in a similar look of confusion. “Wait— Where are you going?”

“Next door,” Steve answers, fumbling with the cooler until he can shift it in his hold. The entrance squeaks — a louder sound in the uncanny quiet — when Robin swings it open. “I wanna check on my neighbor.”

You were the first thing that crossed his mind when the lights flickered. Swallowed in darkness, Steve lit a few candles and knew immediately that he’d go to you. He knows you’re alone over there — that you’re alone, and you hate the dark, and that the combination of the two makes you uneasy.

So he’s gonna stay with you until the lights come back on, and hope his friends don’t make him look like a total idiot while he’s doing it.

The emergency lights glow faintly and eerily yellow. Robin and Eddie follow him like lost puppies the short distance down the hall. The latter, blissfully unaware of personal space, leans against Steve’s shoulder like he’s about to tell him a secret. “The pretty neighbor?” the boy croons.

Steve sighs and stops in front of your door. The slightly chipped paint and the crooked numbers on the entryway match his own. He knocks as gently as he can with the toe of his sneaker. “Yes, Eddie. The pretty one,” he answers in a monotone.

“The pretty neighbor you couldn’t shut up about when you were drunk on my couch the other night?” Eddie continues to tease, directly into Steve’s ear, until he’s elbowed half-heartedly away.

The door swings open then. And, truth be told, you were somewhat expecting to see Steve standing there. Lying alone in your bed, trying not to make monsters out of the clothes in the corner, you were girlishly hoping he’d swoop in and save you.

Your heart starts to swell at the sight of him, glowing faintly amber beneath overhead auxiliary lights. Then it gets caught in your throat when you see the two strangers standing just behind him. A pretty girl with a freckled face and a boy with long hair and leftover eyeliner under his eyes.

“There she is,” the one with the wild hair lilts, dropping his head to his shoulder to smile at you.

“Hi,” you greet softly, because it’s muscle memory. Then, when the stranger’s greeting dawns on you— “…What?”

“Nothing. Ignore him,” Steve answers. “Can we come in? I brought booze.”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” you joke with a shy smile. To you, you would’ve said if you were braver. How can I say no to you?

“This is Robin and Eddie, by the way,” he says as he walks into your dimly lit apartment. It’s exactly like his but decorated much more intently — with plants and posters and mood lighting that’d be on under different circumstances. It glows with so many little candles instead, smelling faintly of sage and vanilla.

His two friends follow in behind him — Robin first, with an awkward smile and accompanying wave, and then Eddie, who’s visibly more confident.

Steve laughs. “Sorry. I was kinda in the middle of babysitting before I came over.”

“That’s okay,” you shrug.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Eddie says with a wide grin, holding out his hand to shake yours. He wears chunky, silver rings on all his fingers. “And I mean, a lot.”

You stick a hesitant hand in his warmer one. “Oh,” is all you can think to say.

“All good things. Don’t worry… Great things, actually.”

“That’s… good,” you waver with a forced laugh. Eddie hasn’t yet let go of your hand.

“I’ll be honest— when Steve said you were pretty, I was not expecting you to be this pretty.”

Your mouth falls open and then closes again. Sorta like a fish. You try to come up with something to say but can’t think of exactly what. You thought you were the only one telling all of your friends about the pretty neighbor next door.

“Eddie!” Steve scolds from across the room. He idles in the spot where the living room ends and the kitchen begins. He tries to duck away into the latter, but he wants you to come with him — so he can even be halfway alone with you. “Stop flirting and leave her alone.”

Eddie’s face swirls into an insincere pout. He drops your hand to walk further into the room.

“Oh, please, I was just being nice— don’t get your panties in a wad, Harrington.” He bends down at your coffee table, rifling through the bowl of Starbursts there until he finds a yellow one. It isn’t until he pops it into his mouth that he thinks to ask, “These are for everyone, right?”

You giggle again, much more sincere this time. “Sure.”

“Ooh,” Robin squeals under her breath from where she sits on your couch. She’s grabbing a handful of the pink kind before you can blink.

“Wanna help me with these while those idiots act like vultures?” Steve offers with a soft smile.

You know he doesn’t need help. Or, at the very least, that he could ask Robin and Eddie for it. But he’s asking you now, and you think you know a little bit as to why. At least, you hope you do. You nod at him, anyway. “Sure.”

“Sorry about them,” Steve apologizes when you’re both hidden inside the dark kitchen. He drops the cooler onto the counter, then stretches his aching arms while you light a candle.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile and shake out the match. “They seem really nice.”

“They’re idiots, but they mean well.”

“A little like someone I know.”

Steve meets your quiet smile with a squint. “Stop flirting with me.”

He reaches into the container to grab you a beer from inside it. The entire time, you’re finding the courage to say the words bubbling up in your throat. The five seconds it takes feels like eons and milliseconds at the same time.

“Can I ask you something?” you wonder as he passes you a bottle, the amber glass of it already breaking a sweat.

“Uh-huh.”

Steve uses the hem of his shirt to unscrew the top of his. You idle with yours, letting the cold bottle sting your delicate palm. “Why did you come over?” you ask, and then, when you realize how unkind that sounds, “Not that I’m not thrilled you’re here! I’m always happy to see you! I was hoping you’d come over, actually. I’m just— I’m just curious.”

Steve doesn’t seem to take offense to your words. Instead, the rambling of them makes him smile. “‘Cause I know you don’t like the dark,” he answers with a shrug. “And I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“Oh. That’s nice.”

Again, he only shrugs.

The beer hisses faintly when you unscrew the cap of it. “So you would’ve done it for anyone, then?” you ask him, feigning nonchalance as you take a quick sip from the bottle.

“Hell no,” Steve scoffs.

You swallow and lick your alcohol-slicked lips with wide eyes. “No?”

“If those schmucks in there asked me to bring them free booze ‘cause their power went out, I would laugh in their faces,” Steve confesses, already chuckling at the thought — a golden sound that rivals the orange candlelight.

“I feel special now,” you giggle, hiding it behind the neck of your beer.

“That’s because you are.”

Your face burns hot, like so many orange embers blotching the apples of your cheek. You take a heftier swig of beer. Both to cool your blazing skin and to slow your racing heart.

“And I don’t think I’d be here if it were anybody else,” Steve tells you, raising the lip of his bottle to his mouth. “I like doing nice things for you ‘cause it’s you, you know?”

Your nose scrunches until the edges of your eyes crinkle. “Stop flirting with me,” you tease, parroting his words from earlier.

Steve squints. “Is it that obvious?”

“Drinking booze? In the candlelight? While you tell me pretty things? It couldn’t be more obvious, Steve Harrington.”

“You caught me,” he shrugs and props his elbow on the countertop. He tilts his cheek to his shoulder and flashes you a rosy, lopsided smile. Bathed by candlelight, his eyes glow a more honied shade. “I cut the power to half the city just so I could get you all to myself.”

His tongue swipes along his plush bottom lip. His eyelids get distinctly heavier.

“To yourself and your two best friends?”

You bring him back to reality with seven words. His face twists in offense to them. “Eddie is not my best friend, okay?” he chuckles. “He’s not even in my top ten list of best friends.”

“Don’t be mean,” you giggle, a pretty sound that makes him smile wider.

“Yeah, Stevie,” Eddie calls from the living room. “I have ears, you know? And feelings.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: bug turns one

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joeys-babe · 3 months

Text

Joey B Blurbs: With A Little Help From My Friends

————————————————————————-

Summary: You and a few other WAGs do a prank on your boys by buying them all matching shirts for a get-together without them knowing.

Warnings: Fluff, unserious/funny, pranks

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

January 20, 2024 - *36 weeks pregnant*

“Joe, I have your outfit laid out on the island in the closet.” - you

Joe’s head snapped away from the TV and over in my direction. I'd just walked into the kitchen from getting ready upstairs. Joe sat on the couch watching The Office reruns, all cuddled up with Tyson and Miles - looking adorable.

“What? I can pick my outfit out.” - Joe

“I know, but I ordered you a new shirt that I'd like you to wear.” - you

“Oh, okay. What is it?” - Joe

“A flannel.” - you

“Mmm, okay.” - Joe

A few moments later, I sat down on the couch with my boys, but Joe left just a minute later to get ready himself.

Robin and Jimmy were coming in a bit to watch the twins while Joe and I went over to Sam’s for a get-together with some of his teammates.

The guys had no idea, though, that the WAG’s group chat had been super active the past week leading up to tonight.

A prank was to ensue, and it was that we'd all secretly ordered the same shirt for our men. We'd all show up one by one, and the guy’s reactions to matching would be hilarious.

Plus, Joe would look hot as hell in a flannel.

Half an Office episode later, Joe came bounding down the stairs. The greyish flannel looked amazing on him, giving off major dad vibes, paired with regular-fitting blue jeans that had been sitting untouched in the closet since I'd ordered them.

I let out a teasing whistle, Joe blushing at the cat-call.

“You like?” - Joe

“Yes. You look amazing, Joey. Do a little spin for me?” - you

Joe happily obliged before searching for approval in my facial expression.

“Love it. I need to start sneaking more of this style into your side of the closet.” - you

“Is that style ‘I have two kids and another on the way’?” - Joe

“Bingo. I told you, you're a DILF.” - you

“You love to remind me of that.” - Joe

“Because it's true.” - you grinned

——

There was a ring of the doorbell, and I went to stand up from the couch, but Joe ushered me to sit back down.

“Hey Mom, hey Dad. Thanks for watching the boys.” - Joe

“Oh, of course!” - Robin

Robin and Jimmy had barely made it into the house before they were ambushed by Tyson and Miles.

They happily hugged their grandbabies, and Jimmy picked up Miles in his arms.

“Where's your wife, Joseph Lee?” - Robin

“On the couch, she went to open the door, but I waved her off.” - Joe

Robin gave her son a proud nod, grateful that he was treating his pregnant wife as he should.

The five of them eventually walked back into the living room, and Joe plopped back onto the couch next to me, putting his arm around me on the back of the couch.

“You look great, y/n!” - Robin

“Aww, thank you. I'm feeling great as well. Baby girl is treating my bladder a lot better than the twins did.” - you laughed

“That's good! I love your dress, makes your bump pop.” - Robin grinned

“Joe actually picked it out.” - you

I put a hand on Joe’s chest and smiled up at him, a glint in his eye when he returned the soft grin.

“Wow, I would’ve never expected that.” - Robin

Laughing, I understood where she was coming from. My dress was a solid black, nothing like anything in Joe’s side of the closet.

“I picked his outfit out, though.” - you smiled

“That was my next question! That style looks good on you, Joey. You look very adult.” - Robin

“Thank you? I think.” - Joe

“It was meant to be a compliment. I think so, at least…” - Jimmy

A few seconds of laughter went by before Joe patted my thigh and spoke up.

“Ready to go, babe?” - Joe

“Sure!” - you

Joe stood up before turning around to me and putting a hand out to help me up.

Once I was on my feet, Joe let go of one of my hands but still held the other.

“We’ll be back later!” - Joe

He led me over to the garage door of the house and grabbed his keys to the Porsche off of the hook.

Sweetly, Joe walked me over to the passenger side of the car and opened my door for me, along with helping me sit down before shutting the door back.

“Whatcha wanna listen to?” - Joe

Joe always joked about my passenger princess ways, but here he was, offering me to pick the music before I even asked.

In the end, I pulled up my Spotify playlist “’60s-’70s Love Songs” and shuffled it.

Looking over at Joe as he backed out of the driveway, I giggled as he playfully rolled his eyes with a smile on his face at my music selection.

For dramatic effect, I grabbed onto Joe’s shoulder and sang Be My Baby by The Ronettes into my hand like I was holding a microphone.

“You're crazy.” - Joe laughed

“But you love me.” - you

“That I do, my baby.” - Joe

——

I had my arm looped with Joe’s as we stood on Sam’s front porch. Joe had just rung the doorbell and now we're waiting for an answer.

Squeezing his bicep lightly, Joe’s eyes darted to me.

“You okay, Mama?” - Joe

“Mhm. Just love you in this shirt.” - you grinned

Just a few seconds later, the front door swung open, revealing Sam.

“Hey, Burrow’s! Woah- what the hell? Joe, are we matching?” - Sam

I giggled to myself as Joe and Sam looked down at their flannels and then at each other.

“That's weird man, but I def wore it better.” - Joe

Sam rolled his eyes before stepping to the side to let Joe and me inside the house.

I immediately greeted Jess, who complimented my pregnancy glow, and while we were deep into conversation, the doorbell rang again.

When Sam opened the door, Jess and I exchanged knowing looks at each other.

On the front porch, Cody Ford and Evan McPherson were laughing about the fact they had matching shirts on while Tianna and Gracie stood to the side laughing.

“What the hell!” - Sam

“You guys have it too?!” - Evan

Joe was full-on cackling, and I couldn't help but mirror my husband.

The girls walked over and sat next to me and Jess, our boys all pointing at each other’s shirts while laughing.

Thirty minutes later, over ten more guys had shown up, all in the same flannel, and Joe and his guys found it hilarious each time.

The girls and I all sat in a corner of the living room, recording and laughing at the reactions coming out of the guys.

They really were adult toddlers, but that's what makes being married to one fun.

After dinner, Joe found me by myself in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around me from behind. At first, I couldn't tell who it was because all the guys here had the same long-sleeved shirt on, and all I could see were the person's arms.

The thought didn't last too long when I saw the wedding ring on the person’s finger that was too unique to be anyone other than Joe.

“Hi, Mama.” - Joe

“Hi, Joey.” - you

“Can I ask you a question?” - Joe

“Of course.” - you

With Joe’s hands on my bump, I covered them with my own and let my head fall back onto his chest/shoulder.

“Who wore the shirt best?” - Joe

“I'm kinda biased, but you, for sure.” - you

“Yeah?” - Joe

“Mhm, I'm gonna start sneaking more flannels into your closet.” - you

“I'll wear ‘em if they get a good reaction out of you.” - Joe

“Oh, you know they will.” - you giggled

I turned around in Joe’s arms and looked into his gorgeous blue eyes, my hands on his chest.

Slowly, Joe leaned in and pressed his lips onto mine.

A minute later, we were still kissing. The craving for each other was never satisfied, but we were interrupted by a loud, fake, gagging sound.

“For the love of god, she's already pregnant! You guys are disgusting!” - Ja’Marr

I leaned my head onto Joe’s chest with a giggle as he glared at one of his best friends.

“Ja’Marr, get the fuck away!” - Joe

Ja’Marr threw his arms up in surrender before walking out of the kitchen. Joe turned back to me with a sly grin on his face.

“Sorry, Mrs. Burrow. Where were we?” - Joe

I’d never get tired of him calling me that.

“Mmm, I think we might've been kissing.” - you

“Let's test that theory.” - Joe

Just as Joe was leaning in, our lips brushed together, but something made him pull back.

“Y'all nasty!” - Ja’Marry whisper yelled

“Ja’Marr!!” - Joe yelled

Sure, they got annoying sometimes, but deep down, Joe knew he wouldn't get by without a little help from his friends. Even if said help was unwanted.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: y'all, I ground out a fic for you guys. 💀

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

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justmystyles · 2 months

Text

Baby-Baby-Baby

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 2,993

summary: Harry meets his niece for the first time, the joy and excitement are quickly replaced with a whole new set of feelings when his best friend, Y/N joins him at the hospital.

a/n: throwing my hat in the unclerry ring with this big ball of fluff. i actually just thought of a new series idea that this would have fit so perfectly with, but i'm nowhere near ready to start releasing that, so here's a little bestierry fluff instead!

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

The sound of her phone ringing breaks Y/N from her deep, peaceful slumber. With an annoyed grumble, she blindly slaps her hand around until she finds it and answers it with a grunt.

“It’s happening Y/N, it’s happening!”

As she slowly starts to come to, she rubs the sleep from her eyes and sits up. “Harry? Wh-what’s happening?” She responds groggily.

“Gem! She’s having the baby! She’s at the hospital right now!” He shouts, causing her to furrow her brow and pull the phone away from her ear slightly.

“Okay, Harry, deep breaths, calm down.” She says trying to talk him down. “Are you going to the hospital?”

“Not yet, mum’s there with her and Michal now. They’re going to let me know when she’s here and then I’m going to go.”

She could hear the anxiety in his voice, she could see it clearly in her mind, Harry pacing back and forth in his living room, likely with a glass of wine in his hand. “And what are you doing until you get that call?” She says knowingly.

Harry notices her tone and knows exactly why she’s asking. “You know, just taking it easy.”

“Liar.”

Harry sighs and rolls his eyes. “Well what do you want me to do? My big sister is having a baby! I’m going to be an uncle!”

“I’m coming over.” She replies as she slides out of bed and starts grabbing some clothes to change into.

“You don’t have to…”

“Yes I do,” she interrupts. “If I don’t, I’m just going to get a bunch of stream of consciousness texts and phone calls from you while you sit alone freaking out. I may as well just get them in person.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Harry says. She can hear his pout from the other end of the phone.

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

There’s a brief silence on the other end of the phone. He definitely wanted her to come over, he didn’t want to wait alone, he just felt bad dragging her out of bed and demanding her time. “Thanks, Y/N.”

She smiles softly at his appreciative tone. “Of course.” She hangs up the phone and gets dressed.

Thirty minutes later, Y/N was standing at Harry’s front door knocking gently. When he answers, he’s noticeably frazzled.

“Hey, Uncle Harry.” She says cheerily.

In that moment, Harry’s nerves and anxiety drift away and the corners of his mouth turn up into a wide, dimpled grin. He takes her hand and leads her into the house. “Wine?”

“Half a glass.” She says as he leads her to the kitchen. She takes a seat at the kitchen island as he pours her some wine, and a little more for himself. She arches a brow at him.

“It’s only my second, and I’m only having it so you aren’t drinking alone.” He says defensively.

“Fine, we have one now to pre-celebrate, and another when you get back from the hospital.” She holds up her glass. “To Gemma and Michal.”

“Mhm,” Harry hums in agreement, clinking his glass to hers and taking a sip. “Wait, what do you mean when I get back from the hospital?”

She looks at him like he’s crazy. “Isn’t that what this is all about? You’re waiting to get the call so you can go meet your niece.”

“Yeah, no I get that, but you said when I get back, not when we get back.” He arches a brow.

“Because we’re not going. You are. I’ll just wait for you here, or go home and sleep…”

“What do you mean go home? You’re coming!”

“Harry, this is a family thing, your sister will have just gone through labor. This isn’t some party I can just tag along to.”

“Don’t be an idiot!” Harry laughs and shoves her playfully. “You’re practically family, you know Gemma loves you.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and shakes her head as she takes a sip of her wine. “So, should we narrow down what baby gift you’re bringing to the hospital? I know you have a room full of toys and outfits for her.” She expertly changes the subject.

“Probably just one of the stuffies, she’ll only be in the hospital for a few days, I can bring everything else to the house when she gets home.”

She chuckles at his answer. “God, you’re already spoiling the hell out of this kid.”

“You’d better believe it!”

The two of them continue to chit chat and laugh, passing the time and successfully keeping Harry distracted, and then his phone rang. Harry looks at the screen, his gaze flitting up to Y/N. “It’s mum…”

“Well answer it!” She insists.

“Mum?” Harry answers the phone, Y/N watches Harry’s expression, his eyes quickly light up, a bright smile growing on his face as he gives her a thumbs up, indicating that everything went well.

“That’s great! Yeah, okay.” He continues to respond to his mother on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, on my way.” He looks up at Y/N. “Oh, Y/N is here, do you think Gem would mind if she came too?” His proud brother smile is quickly replaced with a shit eating grin. “Great, we’ll see you soon. Love you too.”

“She said it would be wonderful if you came. Now they’re expecting you, so you have no choice.” He says smugly, causing her to roll her eyes.

***

They enter the maternity ward of the hospital, and walk down the hallway to Gemma’s room. When they arrive in front of the door, Harry pauses, his hand resting on the door handle.

“You ready to be an uncle?” Y/N says softly, placing her hand on his back.

His smile widens and he nods his head, turning the handle and pushing the door open. The friends enter the room together, Harry going straight to his sister, while Y/N goes to greet his mother, Anne.

“Congratulations, mum.” Harry says to his sister with a chuckle.

Gemma laughs and hugs him tightly. “Thank you.” When they pull apart, Gemma nods to the bassinet beside her. “Say hello to your niece, I know she’s the reason you’re really here.”

Harry looks down at the sweet little bundle before him, reaching down and running a finger over her small cheek. “She’s perfect,” he coos as his eyes travel over every feature, wanting to memorize everything about this moment.

“You can pick her up, you know.” Gemma teases.

Harry rolls his eyes and reaches down gently, lifting his niece into his arms for the first time. He takes a seat in a nearby chair and cradles her closely in his arms, whispering softly to her, promises of protection and love, and being spoiled rotten.

As Y/N and Anne catch up, Y/N watches Harry out of the corner of her eye, for as long as they’ve been friends, any time she saw Harry with children, it would give her a warm fuzzy feeling. He was such a natural with them, but to see him with his niece was on an entirely different level.

Y/N was so focused on Harry that she didn’t notice the knowing glances shared by Gemma and Anne. The two of them had always noticed the chemistry between Harry and Y/N, they’d drop hints now and then, but ultimately wanted to leave it to the two of them to figure out for themselves.

Eventually, Y/N pulls out her phone, knowing Harry is going to want a picture of this moment. She snaps a few candid shots, a warm smile spread across her face.

“You should hold her too,” Gemma says, pulling Y/N from her impromptu photo shoot.

She looks up and smiles at Gemma, walking up to her and giving her a hug. “Congrats, Gem. I’m sorry for tagging along, I’m sure you’re exhausted, the last thing you need is extra people tagging along.”

“You’re not an extra person,” Gemma scoffs. “You’re practically family.”

“Told you so.” Harry says smugly from his seat, the baby still in his arms.

“Oh shut up and hand her over.” She teases.

Harry laughs quietly, not wanting to startle his niece. He stands from the chair and waits for Y/N to be seated before carefully placing the baby in her arms.

Once she’s holding the baby, she looks down and smiles. “She’s so beautiful, Gemma.”

“Yeah, we’re pretty fond of her.” She chuckles in response.

Y/N’s eyes stay locked on the soft features, her light eyelashes fluttering across her delicate cheeks. Her petite mouth opens in a wide yawn, and Y/N swears her heart is going to explode.

“You are just the most precious little thing in the whole world, aren’t you?” She coos at the newborn. “Don’t worry, when your Uncle Harry gets too annoying, you can just come find me…”

“Heyyy!” Harry whines. Y/N looks up and sticks her tongue out at him, while Gemma and Anne laugh at the exchange.

“You look like a natural holding her, Y/N.” Anne redirects the conversation.

Y/N smiles up at her. “Thanks, I love kids. I’d love to have a couple of my own someday…”

Those words, combined with the sight of Y/N holding a baby cause a switch to flip inside of Harry. It’s as if his world of black and white suddenly turned to color right in front of him. In that moment, he thinks about what it would be like if she were sitting there with their baby in her arms.

His mind starts racing with thoughts, sure during their years of friendship, there have been a couple of lingering glances and drunken kisses here and there, but they were friends. He’d never even considered going beyond that, not even with the not so subtle hints that his mother and sister would drop anytime Y/N’s name would come up in conversation. But now, it was all he could think about.

After spending a bit more time at the hospital, it was clear that Gemma and the baby needed their rest, so Harry promised to come by again in a few hours, and the pair made their way back to Harry’s house.

The car ride was surprisingly silent, Y/N was sure that Harry would be talking nonstop about meeting his niece, and how cute she was, rehashing every gurgle and squeak that came out of her tiny little mouth, but he kept his eyes on the road, looking as though he was deep in thought. She didn’t say anything, she figured he just needed some time to process everything that had happened, and she was happy to give him that.

When they arrived back at his house, they go inside and hang up their coats. “Wine?” Y/N asks, hoping it will open the lines of communication between the two of them.

Harry looks up, hint of surprise on his face, as if he forgot that she was there. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, wine would be good.”

When they get to the kitchen, Y/N pours them each a glass, they clink them together and take a sip.

“Oh, I got some really cute pictures of you holding her, by the way.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and shows Harry the photos. “I’ll text them to you.”

“Thanks.” He says, a dreamy smile plastered on his face. Has Y/N always been this thoughtful? Of course she had, that’s one of the things he’d always loved about her.

“Hey,” Y/N says softly, pulling him from his thoughts. “You okay? You’ve been quiet since we left the hospital.”

Harry smiles nervously, waging an internal battle on whether or not to disclose what’s been going on in his mind. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good. It’s just been a big day.”

“I get it. I swear, if this is how you get just from becoming an uncle, you may go catatonic when you have your own kids.” She chuckles and continues to sip her glass of wine.

Harry feels his heart rate pickup, and he decides that he needs to get it out, he needs to tell her. “You know, you looked pretty at home holding that baby…” He says, opening the door for this conversation, that could either end really well, or really poorly.

“Yeah, I think I felt my ovaries stir a little while I was there.” She chuckles, completely unaware of the conversation to come.

Harry lets out a soft laugh as he takes a sip of his wine, trying to play it cool, even though he felt anything but. “You know, I had this crazy thought when I saw you holding the baby…”

“Oh yeah? What kind of crazy thought?”

Harry smiles softly and looks down at his feet, swirling the wine in his glass. “Well, the way you were holding her, the look on your face, you just bounding her in your arms so gently, her smiling up at you, her tiny hand grabbing your finger, it just got me thinking…” He looks up, locking eyes with her, searching for some kind of reaction.

“Thinking what, Har?” She asked tentatively.

Harry shrugs shyly. “I dunno… it got me thinking, what if that was our kid you were holding?”

Y/N’s eyes go wide in surprise. “Ours? Like yours and mine?”

Harry nods sheepishly, but there is an intensity in his gaze. “I know we’ve never talked about that before, but, I don’t know, I saw you holding her, and it seemed so natural… and that look on your face… it changed something in my heart, and I just realized that I want that.”

“With me? You want that with me… your best friend?”

“Yeah,” he nods, his expression never wavering. “With you, but not as my best friend, as my wife.”

“Harry…” She gasps softly. “This is all kind of out of the blue…”

Harry takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I know, I know, but can you honestly tell me that you’ve never thought about what it would be like if we were together?”

Y/N is silent for a moment as she considers his question. “I mean yeah, of course I’ve thought about it, you’re sweet, funny, good looking. I’d be crazy not to think about it every now and then. But I just always assumed I’d been friend zoned since day one.”

“That’s fair… and honestly, I think you kind of were. I don’t know, something changed today. I realized that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He pauses for a moment, but continues when he sees that she’s still trying to process.

“Think about it, we know each other better than anyone else. We’ve been there for each other through so many breakups, we know exactly what the other wants and expects in relationships. I know for a fact I’d be way better than most of those idiots you waste your time with.”

She lets out a soft chuckle, he was definitely right about that. Y/N thought about it for a minute, and she was right, there had never been a more constant, supportive presence in her life. She considered all the things she wanted in a partner, and realized that Harry was all of those things.

“You realize if we do this, there’s no going back. It’s all or nothing…”

“I don’t want to go back, only forward. Only with you.” Harry says confidently.

Y/N takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay, yeah… let’s do it…”

Harry’s eyes light up, his expression mixed with relief and joy. “Yeah? Are you sure?” Y/N smiles shyly, biting the corner of her lip and nodding.

He places his wine glass down on the counter and takes a step towards Y/N, taking her glass and putting that down as well. “So, I guess we should probably kiss now?” He asks softly, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

“Seems like the next logical step…” She replies quietly.

They both start leaning closer until their lips touch. The kiss is gentle at first, but Harry quickly runs his tongue along the seam of her lips, she parts them, granting him access. He places his hands on her hips, pulling her flush to him as they explore each other’s mouths. Unlike the drunken kisses they had shared in the past, this wasn’t sloppy or rushed. It was slow and deliberate, taking their time to truly explore this new side to their relationship.

When they finally separate to catch their breath, they keep their foreheads pressed together, and look into each other’s eyes.

“So what, we’re like engaged now, or something?” Y/N asks in a slightly teasing tone.

“No way,” Harry says promptly. “If we were engaged, you’d know it. You’re gonna get the big, fancy elaborate proposal, and a big ol’ rock to go along with it.” He says confidently. “But it’ll be coming. Probably soon…”

“Soon?” She asks, slightly surprised.

“Sure, the whole point of dating is to get to know someone. We’ve seen each other at our best and our worst. You know all my little quirks, and I know all those annoying little things about you, and I still want this…”

“Heyyy,” Y/N protests, causing Harry to laugh.

“I know all the cute, sweet, endearing things about you too.” He adds, kissing the tip of her nose.

She narrows her eyes playfully, her wide grin giving her away. “You know we do have one little problem…”

Harry’s brow rounds in concern. “What?”

“Gemma’s gonna take credit for this.”

Harry throws his head back in laughter. “You’re not wrong, but it’s a small price to pay if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend.” He leans in and kisses her again.

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samkerrworshipper · 4 months

Note

simce u asked for blurbs i have some ideas xxxx

leah x reader where reader gets her tongue or belly button pierced without telling leah

leah x reader where leah gets jealous of reader for having to do a media day vid with a touchy male player

awfc x reader where reader and kyra are just pranksters (cuz i loved sticker charts sm 🥹🥹🥹)

DONT FEEL PRESSURE TO DO THESE BTW! but if this helps then perfect 🥰🥰🥰

tongue twister | lw6 x reader blurb

it’s short, it’s sweet, it’s the only thing getting me out of my writers block lol

warnings: minor sexual implications and maybe some minor swearing

———————————————————————

It’s fairly normal routine for Leah to beeline straight towards you after any trip that includes her leaving for longer than 24 hours. Hell, the girl always seeks you out even after she’s gotten home after a two gotten home after a two hour training session but she’s always especially clingy after being on international camp.

It’s worsened significantly since her return from her acl injury, considering that for months she hardly had to leave your side.

So it’s no surprise that before Leah even takes her shoes off she’s rushing into your kitchen, her luggage bag long forgotten at the front door as she tumbled through the entrance hallway and into the kitchen.

You were seated at the island bench, typing away lazily at a work document to pass time.

Your eyes perked up as soon as the blonde entered the room, a big smile settling along your features at the sight of your rugged up Leah. It still gave you the chills that the woman standing in front of you, leah williamson, was all yours. She told you every single day that she was the lucky one in the relationship, but you couldn’t have disagreed more, leah was perfect, in every single way.

“Hiya love.”

Leah stays standing in the doorway, her eyes trained to you, a big smile splashed across her face.

“Hello Le.”

The woman closed the distance between the two of you, her tongue between her teeth as she approached.

“Missed you.”

It’s a statement, not meant for you to reply just a hanging reminder that these weeks that you spend apart are just as hard for you as it is her.

So you nod, flash her another smile before letting your eyes fall back to the bright screen in front of you.

Leah sits down on the seat beside you, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Honey.”

Her voice is slightly whiny, the voice Leah uses when she wants something that apparently should be obvious but you aren’t giving it to her for whatever reason.

“Yes, Leah?”

You look up from your screen briefly, taking in Leah’s needy face, her lips puckered directly towards you.

“Where’s my welcome home kiss?”

It was customary that whenever Leah came home you gave her a kiss, but this particular time you were a little bit tentative… for other reasons.

“Someone’s a bit needy.”

Leah reached over and pressed your laptop closed, removing the potential distraction.

“I always get a welcome home kiss… I’m waiting.”

You roll your eyes, it’s typical for Leah’s first priority to be a fucking kiss, it’s something that you’ve come to love, no matter what’s happening in either of your lives when she gets home, you always connect like this together.

“How was my day? Thanks for asking, it was great, went for a run, cooked up some food for you to meal plan this week, watched some shows, got a jumpstart on the gym plans for the team this week and hammered out a roster.”

Leah’s gives you a massive eye roll, her hand extending to the back of your neck, looking deep into your soul as her face hovers a couple of centimetres away from you.

“Baby, you know i love you, give me a kiss, please.”

It wasn’t like Leah to be so needy, you blamed it on the fact that you’d been ‘sick’ in her absence, which had her feeling especially guilty for leaving you.

“Why don’t you give me one?”

The challenge is enough to strike up Leah’s competitive nature, something you frequently take advantage of in all parts of your relationship.

Leah leant forward without any hesitation, her lips capturing yours and immediately melting against your skin. This was the part you were anxious about, but regardless you let her take dominance of the kiss, her bottom lip molding against your top one as she slowly synchronised the movement.

It didn’t take very long at all for Leah to get greedy, her tongue finding the notch between your bottom lip and top, gently prodding for an opening, something you awarded her with ease.

Leah tasted like peppermint gum and black coffee, a flavour that melted in your mouth. You were counting down the seconds, as Leah explored your mouth, curious as to how long it would take for her to notice.

4 seconds, 4 seconds of her tongue reaquanting itself with the roof of your mouth and then twisting and tangling itself with your own to discover what you knew she was bound to.

It felt like she was digging for treasure that you’d hidden.

The gasp that she breathed into you almost immediately was capturing a short little exhale of hot air directly into your mouth. Leah prodded at it twice more, checking, making sure before she disconnected herself from you, her eyebrows perched high on her forehead as she blinked a few times in surprise.

“Open your mouth.”

If you were in a more playful mood you probably would have said some kind of obscene joke, but you simply weren’t in the mood to mess around with Leah, especially with that glint in her eyes that was telling you so much and yet so little about how she was feeling.

So without much arguement at all, you opened your mind up wide, allowing Leah to examine her previously discovered treasure.

Leah took her time having a look, even daring to tilt your head back to get a better angle on your new bling.

Once she was finally done she let go of your chin, releasing you and taking a step back, so you could look at her fully.

“I’m assuming it wasn’t tonsillitis that you had then?”

You chuckled lightly, it was a good cover up if you did say so yourself, something completely believable and so simple.

“Do you not like it?”

Leah’s eyes almost bursted out of her skull, her head shaking profusely at you.

“God baby, no, I am so ready for you to show me all the ways that little thing can do, maybe i’ll get me nips done next time for some more fun.”

Leah gave you a flashy wink, a movement that had her rewarded with a big eye roll from you.

“She’s fully healed, how about we go test it out?”

Leah smirked massively, reaching for your hips and lifting you up in to her arms.

“I like your thinking.”

#woso #woso community #leah williamson #marry me rn #leah williamson x reader #golden retriever leah vibes #leah williamson is boyf #leah williamson is mother #leah williamson is mom #i love leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #woso imagine

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 6 months

Text

Warm and Cozy

Nanami Kento x F!Reader

Summary: Nanami Kento did not show up at Shoko's Infirmary after a mission for his usual checkup so she sent you to his place to check up on him.

Warnings: Smut. 18+ I am not responsible for any underaged baby reading this. Wrap that willy before doing the silly.

Word Count: Your girl got horny.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"Since when did you start doing house calls?"

"Since you stopped taking Shoko Senpai's calls and returned home instead."

Kento Nanami is still dressed in his blue shirt and tan blazer, holding the door with his hand and looking at you with zero emotions.

You can see the wretched dotted tie lying at the small dinner table behind him along with his glasses, not knowing why their site bothers you so much.

Nanami's free hand goes to his face to rub the incoming tiredness in his eyes. "Y/L/N, I'm fine. You should go back-"

"I've been threatened by senpai to heal you back to proper health or she'll fire me. So, if you don't mind, Nanami, I'd like to keep the job I finally love. Also, you are reeking of curses right now," you wring your nose in the end.

His brown eyes look at the resolution in your figure at his door before looking at the night sky behind you. He notices a moment in the corridor outside, his brows furrowing in some calculated thought.

The hand holding the door turns enough for Nanami to look at the time. And while he is contemplating something in his head, you cannot resist observing the six-foot-tall man; looking so different from what he was when you first met him.

He definitely worked out, your inner voice purrs inside your head, making you clench your office bag to resist any more stray thoughts.

"You are not going back alone at this time anyway," he murmured under his breath and stepped to the side.

"Oh!" you scoff, "I am pretty sure I can navigate my way around Tokyo at night just fine, sir. Or did you forget the time I-"

Nanami's senses are focused on the figure clad in a black hoodie coming from the other end of the corridor. The figure reached for something in the pocket of his hoodie and Nanami is quick to grab you by your arm- in the gentlest of way possible- and pull your surprised frame inside his humble abode.

You walk into the apartment and let your lungs inconspicuously breathe in the scent of Kento Nanami's safe space. And just as you expect, it smells of vanilla and beeswax.

Maybe it's the soap he uses?

The apartment is spotless. Everything has its place. Maybe the only thing out of place is you.

The entrance has you open to a cozy beige-clad living room. Walking a little further, you are standing in his open kitchen next to the kitchen island and looking at the table next to you where his tie and glasses lie.

Right opposite the kitchen is a space separated by a wooden structure made of hollow rectangular blocks housing plants, books on anatomy and humans, and a single empty space right in the middle.

The bed beyond that is covered in a grey duvet, astonishingly wrinkle-free.

Too clean, your nose wrinkles, it should have some-

Now what would make a bed that neat wrinkled and dirty, your inner voice whispers in your ear, spiking up your heartbeat.

"Would you like some tea?"

You jump at Nanami's voice, turning around towards the kitchen.

The man is already rolling his sleeves up and putting a kettle on.

"Yes, please," you plead softly, walking towards the kitchen island, and picking up his tie on the way.

"Did you meet the new kid yet?" you ask him as your hands and eyes get busy with the tie, wrapping it around your neck to try your hand at the few knots you learned in school.

Nanami opens up a drawer to take out two mugs- one purple and one grey- before turning towards the island.

There is this tiny second of a moment when he pauses to look at your fingers busy with the fabric that is practically a part of him. But he is quick to regain his usually stoic momentum even though his eyes keep going back to how carefully your fingers are running over his tie.

"Gojo's kid?"

You break into a chuckle, your eyes closing in the tiny flash of elation, never seeing how Nanami's eyes follow the moment of your head as it dips back and then tilts sideways.

"Well, you're not wrong in a way. His name is Yuuji. Yuuji Itadori. He's a really cute kid." You have finally made a passable knot and are trying to pass the other end through. "I was assigned to check him up yesterday and that boy made me laugh the entire time."

Nanami is just standing there with his arms folded when a whistle starts to form at the mouth of the kettle.

"And he is so pure, Nanami! He let me explain to him the culture samples in Senpai's lab and he looked at every single one of them with the same excitement as he did the first one."

The whistle goes harder on that kettle.

A fresh pack of Hojicha tea is opened. Nanami's rugged hands are careful with the bits they pick up to sprinkle in the earthen pot waiting for the brew time before the boiling water goes in.

"Oh, I love him! He's so precious." you declare in excitement.

You do not notice when Nanami comes to stand in front of you. You notice his hands first; when they come to take over the tie from your hands.

"I haven't washed it yet. It might still have some curse blood on it," Nanami slowly announces before delicately pulling the tie up your head.

"Oh...right. My bad."

Moving the tie away from your head, his hand unconsciously comes back to undo the mess he made in your hair, making you pause a breath.

Stop, you tell your insides, trying to shake away the gentle gestures as something more.

Your tools are neatly arranged on the dinner table. Nanami sits on a chair.

"See? Nothing to worry about," he declares in his usual nonchalant way as you are done examining his head and arms.

"Not so fast, love. I still have to scrutinise the rest of you," you warn him sweetly while you rub your palms together and walk behind the chair.

Nanami's head tilts a little in your direction.

"Okay....love."

Your hands freeze behind him. The word vibrates inside you with his voice.

Oh fu---haaa----Focus!

"I need to run the energy down your spine." You try your best to sound composed.

He undoes the first two buttons on his shirt and lifts away the collar, exposing his neck and shoulders to you.

"Tell me if it gets uncomfortable at any point," you announce softly before gently putting your hands on the back of his neck to observe for any anomalies.

What you don't get to see is the rugged hands of the Grade 1 sorcerer curling up into a fist at the first touch of your fingers on his exposed skin, or the goosebumps on his arms and back as your fingers do a little stroke at the nape to guide the energy down his spine.

"Oh, this is not good," you state, stepping away from him to look for something inside your bag.

"What?" Nanami almost blurts out, not really sure what the question was for- the 'not good' part or your hands- that seemed to bring him some much-needed relief- not touching him anymore.

Taking out a small maroon spherical crystal from your bag, you look Nanami straight in the eyes. "Take off your clothes. We're getting in the shower."

The shower head is fixed back into place by your fingers. "There," you exhale and come down from the stool to give one final look of satisfaction at your work.

Nanami is standing at his bathroom door, leaning on the doorframe, observing you. You are out of your overcoat, exposing your usual colourful self in a sweater, a skirt and skinny tights. This is the first time he has seen you wear a sweater in blue. It suits you, he thinks to himself, though it irks him to imagine if it ran up your waist like it is doing now- when you are adjusting the angle of the shower- when you travelled all the way from Jujutsu High to his place and if anyone else dared to see you like this.

"I've fixed the disinfectant in your shower head. Now just stand under the running water for about a minute or so and I'll take out the curse sample."

Nanami looks at the shower head and then at you. "How lethal is the infection?"

"Oh," you shake your head, "not lethal if we do this right now. Lethal if you let it sit overnight. I am going to take the sample back to Shoko Senpai for culture study and antidotes. It'll wash away in no time, don't worry about it."

"I'm not worried for me," he mumbles.

"Hm?" you furrow your brows in confusion, which melts away at the speed of light when the man unbuttons his shirt, taking it off and neatly stacking it in the laundry basket next to the sink.

It takes you some time to let the beauty of Kento Nanami's body seep into your mind. It also takes one long inhale to realise that Blazer had been hiding a sculpted Renaissance art underneath it.

But your brain goes to hell when he takes off his trousers and stands there in his black boxers, revealing some incredibly toned legs.

Oh, mother of curses!

Embarrassed for looking at him with budding sinful thoughts, you turn around in the shower temple to smack your head into the towel rack.

Cursing under your breath, you walk out of the tiny space with your gaze on the ground. "The infection is on your left shoulder blade...o-on the back."

"How bad is it?" Nanami tries to take a look at it in the wall-length mirror on the sink.

"I've handled worse. It's okay, you can trust me, Nanami." you shrug at his reflection in the mirror with a smile.

"I do, Y/L/N-" Nanami takes off his watch and places it beside the sink, leaving that sentence hanging, leaving you blinking at your own reflection for a moment.

Nanami steps into the shower temple, turning on the shower and letting his left arm and shoulder soak in the cold wetness of the water.

Soon enough the infection starts to wriggle and make screeching sounds as the energy in the water starts killing it.

Grabbing the container from your sample kit you step into the space. "I'm taking a sample now."

A few mud-coloured droplets that are still screeching are caught in the container while the rest of them are washed away in the water and down the drain, leaving Nanami's body healed to its original perfection.

"Feel better?"

Nanami does feel better. He can feel all the tiredness leaving his body with the water. He turns around to tell you the same.

You are looking at the container and about to walk out of the shower temple. "Let's get you back to the lab to Senp-"

Your words get stuck in your throat when your foot slips on the wet tile and your hands are grabbing at the air to break your fall.

The air does not break your fall. But Nanami does. His one hand is quick to cushion your head from hitting the wall while his other hand grabs your waist and pulls you to himself. Fearing not to make you fall for a second time, he backs into the wall behind him for support, bringing you both under the shower.

The container falls on the tiled floor as your hands grab onto his shoulders for support and your heart tries to get accustomed to the fear of the fall.

Neither of you move for a moment. Neither of you wants to in fear of doing something the other might now like in such close proximity to each other.

Close proximity? You both are grabbing onto each other as if your lives depend on it.

"Y/N? You okay?" Nanami finally whispers when he does not feel you move for a long while.

"Yes," you breathe, moving your face away from his shoulders- which are welcoming and hot- and facing him. "Sorry. I slipped."

Before Nanami can point out the futility of an apology that is not your fault, you smile and move your hands through his hair. "Aw shucks! I ruined your hair. It's wet now."

That does it for Kento Nanami. That one brush of your fingers in his hair reverberates through his whole body.

"Stop, Y/N," he refrains from growling.

Your hand immediately retreats from his head, pausing in the air and wondering with lost eyes if you did something wrong.

Ah, shit. He doesn't like his hair messed with.

"Stop giving me wrong ideas," he whispers, turning off the shower with his free hand.

"Wrong...what?" your voice barely rises above a whisper.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?" You try to wriggle out of his hold, a little hurt at the assumptions you are making in your head. "I'm sorry for messing your hair."

"My hair isn't the only thing you are messing with."

You scoff, feeling offended. "I'll fix it, okay! Your hair and whatever else I messed with."

Nanami runs his hands through his hair and you have to gulp back some things that rather not come to your lips.

"Are you sure, Y/N?" Nanami looks you in your eyes with a stare you have not seen him with. And you don't want to curl up or back down, so you match his gaze with yours.

"One hundred per cent."

"So, would you be okay if I kissed you?"

The question catches you off guard. But not in the way it is supposed to. "Why would I not be okay?" you scoff. Only after you have given the answer does your brain realise what the question was.

Nanami does not waste time. His lips are on yours within seconds. His arm wraps itself around your waist to bring you closer to him.

Your hands do not know what to do at that sudden kiss. It is when Nanami draws himself away to look at you do they find themselves caressing the dip of his jaw and welcoming him back for another kiss.

Your tongue licks his lips, inviting him. Nanami lets his tongue dance with yours, bringing out a guttering moan from your throat; a moan that heats up something inside the sorcerer forcing him to lift you up by your thighs, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you out of the bathroom to his bedroom.

He is careful when putting you down on his bed.

Oh! The grey duvet.

But that duvet is the least of your concerns right now when the six-foot-tall man stands at the edge of his bed wiping the water off his face, breathing a little heavily and looking at you with...what was that emotion in his eyes?

"Tell me to stop if you don't want to..." he whispers.

"Don't," your voice cracks. You can visibly see him pause his breath for a second. "Don't stop."

The dim lighting in his bedroom is perfect for watching him as his shoulders relax.

He gets on the bed, one leg at a time, dipping the sheets around you with his weight, crawling to catch your lips with his.

Your hands are nervously working on your sweater's buttons under him. He moves away to help you with it, forcing out a tiny wince from you; getting a low chuckle out of him.

Your skirt's zipper is stuck, not budging when it should be sliding down like a seal on an iceberg. Nanami is being as gentle as possible with it but it's all going in vain.

That's when you feel him dig his fingers in over the edges of the fabric near the zipper, your skin heating up where his fingers are in contact with you.

"Y/N-" he looks up at you with embers of unflinching will in his brown eyes, "let me buy you another skirt tomorrow."

The sound of the rip registers after the fabric comes apart in your brain because your eyes are too busy studying how his shoulders tense up just to get you out of your clothes.

The tights are next. But they are taken off with the most delicate touch by the sorcerer. So is the underwear.

He starts by planting kisses on your thighs, moving slowly to the inside while making your nerves light up at every touch. And if that is not enough, his hands tease and massage them to relax you every time you tense up.

He inhales the smell of your core as if he is breathing in the fresh waterfalls in the forest, and then sits back up. Lifting you up by your waist, he rolls to the other side of the bed with him at the bottom and you at the top. He adjusts your thighs on either side of his waist before dragging you further up his torso.

You watch in confusion as he takes the support of the head of his bed and slides further down.

"Sit on me," he announces.

"....what?"

"Sit on my face," he does not stutter.

But you do. "N-Nanami."

He simply lifts your thighs up and brings your core closer to his face.

Do I weigh anything to you?

His hands push your thighs apart, letting him get better access to you. You are not putting your weight down and taking the support of the headboard instead, worried about suffocating him.

But the first flick of his tongue on your clit makes you jump up.

Nanami is quick to anchor your thighs with his hands, forcing you to put all your weight on him. He starts what seems like an incantation being written with his tongue inside you.

Sucking and licking, flicking and teasing, he is your very own roller coaster of pleasure tonight, making you writhe with pleasure under his touch.

And lo...you can feel the wetness gather around your walls.

"Nanami-" you are trying your best to breathe right- "I'm gonna-Nanami. Wait. I'm gonna pee. Ah!"

This man keeps touching all the right nerves again. And again. And again.

You are being driven to the edge. "Nanami stop!"

And he stops for a minuscule second, giving you a window to lift yourself up and flop on your back next to him, trying to bring your lungs back to normal.

"Did it hurt?"

Nanami's hand comes to move the stray strands of your hair away from your face glowing with sweat under the dim bedroom light.

He is looking over you, half up on his arm while his other hand is caressing your face. "Y/N, did it hurt?"

You shake your head. "No. No, I just felt I was about to pee and I didn't want...to do it...over you."

You can see his lips glisten with your juices. He closes his eyes and licks his lips before rolling to the other side, sitting up at the edge and eventually getting up.

The light coming from the bathroom perfectly draws out the cuts of the tensed muscles all over his body while his back is still towards you.

Wait...is it over?

You can see him curl his hands into fists before releasing them and finally walking the length of his bed to come to your side.

You rise up on your elbows.

It's over, isn't it? Your inner voice is smacking you left and right, blaming you for stopping the pleasure harp of a lifetime just as it was about to reach its crescendo.

He goes for the chest next to his bed, opens the top drawer and takes out a small packet that glistens under the scarce light.

"Next time-" he removes his shorts, freeing his already hard length, and gets up on the edge of the bed in front of you- "when you are on top of me-" he tears the packet with his teeth and takes out a condom, pumping his length with his free hand- "I have already played out the probabilities of me suffocating in between your thighs-" he puts the condom on his length and then rests his arms on your raised knees, finally looking into your eyes with a passion you have not seen in him before.

"Next time-" he bends a bit forward to lean in for a kiss and undo the hook of your bra- "waterboard me."

Your bra is on the floor. His hands cup your breasts perfectly, massaging them as his kisses grow intense with every passing second. Then he moves onto your neck, biting it in places before licking the heat away.

Parting from you, he takes one pillow and places it under your head, another between you and the headboard and the last one under your lower back.

Letting his cock gather the juices on your edges, he looks at you while taking his time to enter you.

Both of you feel your breaths cemented in your throats letting you get accustomed to each other. He leans closer to you, planting a kiss on one of your cheeks while caressing the other with his hand. "You okay?"

You nod, feeling your walls adapt to his length.

Nanami drives out before slowly driving himself back in, giving you time to adjust to the pace. Once he knows you are comfortable, he lifts up your legs in the air and brings them to rest on his shoulders.

This time when he drives himself into you, you can feel your core light up with a different brand of intensity, leaving you to gasp for air and letting a moan slip from your throat.

Nanami smirks to himself and plants a kiss on your ankle. He has found your spot. He increases the pace a bit, loving every second of your view; as your breasts bounce to his rhythm, as you try to hold onto his duvet and his pillow, as your eyes close and your head dips back when you feel the pleasure spots light up and your moans get louder. He is loving every moment of you because you are his pleasure.

"K-Kento!"

His name from your mouth feels like a prayer, making his core shudder.

"Yes, love," he sputters between his strokes.

"I'm-ah-"

You don't get to finish your sentence.

He can feel your walls tighten around his cock, undoing his restraints and making him grunt.

He fastens his pace, the squelching and clapping of your bodies growing wilder. Taking both your legs in the hold of one arm, he lets his other hand go down to your core. His fingers find your clit and rub it to let you have your release as he starts feeling his length swell up.

Soon enough, the damn you feel rising up breaks, leaving you with shuddering legs.

Nanami elongates your orgasm as he feels his length at the edge of the eruption. Soon enough, he finds his high with one guttering growl leaving his lungs.

Sweaty and breathless, the both of you.

Nanami is spent; lying on top of you.

You run your hands through his hair as he rests his head on the nape of your neck to catch his breath.

Getting up on his arms, he looks at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

You can't help but smile as the edge of your eyes water up. Cupping his face in your hands, you bring him closer for a kiss.

Nanami carefully gets his length out of you before going straight for the bathroom. You hear the tap run for a few seconds before he comes out with a wet towel to clean you up.

The condom is disposed and you are directed into the bathroom to take a shower. Nanami joins you a few minutes later, planting soft kisses on your back.

Layered up in his oversized black t-shirt and grey shorts, you come out to find the grey sheets gone and a purple duvet waiting to greet you.

Just as you are looking at the new sheets, a needle of anxiety pricks you in your chest.

Do I stay? Do I dress up and walk out? Is...this...was this a one-night...

The thought makes your heart sink.

"Get in," Nanami orders you as he comes out of the door in a white t-shirt and grey shorts, raising the duvet from the edge for you.

The sinking heart rises up a little from the depths of darkness.

You get under the sheets and watch as he moves- first to the edge of the bed to keep something in the empty partition cubicle, and then- to the other side, switches off the lights and gets under the sheets.

You slide down the sheets while your heart rises a bit further.

You feel his arm looking for you under the sheets, finding your waist and pulling you closer to him.

He extends his arm to let you rest your head on it.

The light from the city outside is enough for him to watch your face glow and your eyes search for something in his. He moves your hair away from your face and caresses your cheeks.

"Nanami?" you whisper, still not taking your eyes off him.

"Hm?"

"Do you...like me?"

Silence.

The calm of the apartment is broken by Nanami's chuckle.

"Oh. Y/N-" the depth of his voice reverberates through his home as he exhales your name still titillates your core- "what will I do with you?!"

The maroon crystal rests on the once-empty space in the partition in Nanami Kento's home.

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami fluff #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen

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yourgentlegirlfriend · 1 year

Note

absolute sucker for older bf leon (vendetta, re6, death island) tbh we need more headcanons 😭😭😭

can you write a older bf leon x shy yet clingy gf (definitely not self inserting) headcanons?, like yn is shy, doesnt talk much but tries to show love through acts of service and words of encouragement etceteceg but at the same time shes always around him, wearing his clothes, trying to copy the way he does things and such,,

nsfw or sfw up to you 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

OLDER LEON YES. this is definitely death island leon idc what anyone wants to say to me.

When the two of you first meet it’s through Claire and Chris, Claire rambles on to Leon about how amazing you are and Leon can’t help but stare at you as you poke at the food on your plate. Then when Claire and Chris are screaming over the board game later that night, Leon leans over to you as he watches the two bicker.

“Crazy bond huh?”

Leon felt his heart pounding in his chest as a wide smile spreads across your beautiful face, nodding your head.

He can tell you’re hesitant too so he doesn’t push much, just talks to you about the most random things.

——

And when you guys finally do start dating, you’re always at his flat. Doing his laundry, folding all his shirts perfectly for him and ironing his dress shirts.

You do all his dishes, dust all his furniture, and by the time he comes home from the long list of meetings he had, he’s so stressed out and his head is pounding from an excruciating headache. He looks around his now extremely clean flat, smiling at the sight of you standing in the kitchen making food for him.

—-

Or when he finds out they’re trying to get him to get back in the service when all he wants to do is relax, listening to him argue with people on the phone ALL day long. He finally hangs up, looking out the window of the bedroom and there you are, right by his side. Your hands rubbing his arms as you try and calm him down.

“It’s going to be okay, they call you because you’re the best. That’s all.”

Your words soothe him immediately, his arms wrapping around you pulling you into him tightly. His chin resting on the top of your head before he closes his eyes, kissing at your hair.

——

NSFW WARNING i’m serious don’t read if you’re uncomfy.

Even in bed Leon has always noticed how hesitant you are, how shy you are.

Like when he’s hovering over you, his hair tickling your face as his hips push into yours at a fast pace. Your hand comes up to cover your face as the moans pour from your throat but Leon’s hands are so much stronger and faster, grabbing at your wrist and laying them beside your head.

“Don’t hide from me, let me take care of you..”

Leon mumbles against your ear as his thrusts become more ragged, his pretty lips curling into a smile as he licks his bottom lip as he watches your face twist in pleasure, that familiar blush he loves so much spreading across your face

———-

Leon sitting in the living room the morning after, just watching the news, his eyes shifting to the hallway to see your feet dragging against the floor , his shirt draping over your body.

“Morning, sunshine don’t you look lovely.”

His sarcasm makes you give him a dirty look as you run your fingers through your hair trying to comb it out. Leon’s eyebrows raise as he watches you start brewing coffee for yourself, since when did you drink coffee? Even more shock spreads across his face as you just drink the coffee- black. Just like he does.

“Anything you can do, I can do better.”

You mumble tiredly as you eye him from the kitchen, taking another sip of the coffee.

“Yeah apparently even my attitude too.”

He chuckles, a soft scoff leaving his lips as he changes the channel of the TV.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #yourgentlegf #death island #older leon kennedy

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heraxic · 12 days

Note

I’m sorry if you already answered this (I didn’t find it mentioned) but why was Kyril/Karl mutated, imprisoned and hunted in the Greek Myth AU? This definitely feels like Miranda/Athena was punishing him. What happened?

Thanks for asking!

Here’s pre-curse Kyril (story under cut, body horror/gore warning)

Yes, it was meant as punishment (unlike Alina and Daphne), and to no one’s surprise his crime was hubris.

Kyril worked at his father’s forge, far surpassing his skills in both metalworking and stone masonry. As such he was blessed by Hephaestus himself.

He got commissioned to make a statue of Athena in honor of her craftsmanship. He rolled his eyes and set to work, complaining that it’d be more fitting to make one of Hephaestus, who picked up the slack, since Athena abandoned her craft and stopped making beautiful things for the sake of her sick game (Athena’s Gauntlet of Monsters, so far containing a living whirlpool and a sphinx, was widely known and many daydreamed of or even sought the glory of defeating the beasts). In spite of his grumbling the statue came out stunning with clean cut stone and gilded detailing.

The next day, a weaver came to Kyril’s forge saying she’d heard his complaints about her goddess, which confused her cause with a statue that beautiful a blessing would naturally be in order, yet he burned that bridge. ‘What if she could give you the power to make the most life-like statues in the world?’ Kyril laughed and said it wasn’t her domain, and besides he didn’t need it.

Refusing a blessing from a god is one thing, but to mock them and be telling the truth at the same time is unforgivable.

The weaver lifted her shawl from her head and revealed a brilliant blue plume and with it a golden helmet. Athena arose to her full dreadful height, one hand holding her winged spear, the other pointed towards the terrified sinner in front of her. ‘You will know what power is when you see it. You shall have my blessing whether you wish or not.’

In a second, Kyril fell to the floor screaming with blinding agony, feeling horrible squelching and crunching as bone and muscle grew where it shouldn’t. His nails fell out and out of the raw empty spots grew thorny black claws; his spine extended to accommodate a tufted lion tail; the skin of his back ripped to tatters to unfurl two sets of bloody grey wings; his black curls turned to angry, writhing snakes, each more venomous than the last; his teeth grew sharp and pointed, cutting rifts on his tongue so blood filled his mouth; and lastly his eyes grew heavy in their sockets as they were imbued with the last of the goddess’s curse.

Hearing the commotion, Kyril’s father rushed in and cradled the strange figure he knew was his son, turning his head towards him. He instantly froze in place, a perfect image of paternal worry, and the monster felt the arms holding it turn hard and grating like stone.

Athena took him away to her islands somewhere in the Cyclades to become the next glorious creature on her roster, the Gorgon. There he lied writhing in pain for 12 days without sleep or food (besides the right leg of Pallas, which further changed his body and gained him far more muscle and size). When the pain subsided enough to let him speak he prayed for his patron Hephaestus to help him, but alas gods can’t break each other's curses. Instead he carved out a spacious cave for him in which to seek shelter as well as several unbreakable stonemason and smithing tools to keep up his spirits.

700 yrs later Elias comes to the islands.

#ask #re8 #greek mythology #re8 karl heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #re8 mother miranda #re8 miranda #fanart #my art #sketch

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husbandhoshi · 3 months

Text

TO GROW LOVE (AND EAT IT TO THE CORE)

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader wc: 8.1k summary: your whole life, you've only wanted one thing. then you meet mingyu. suddenly you want too much, and you wish the summer never ended. notes: farmer!au, established relationship, angst/hurt/a little comfort

this is a birthday fic for my one and only cat @wuahae ! yes this is about half a year late but what can i say. all good things come with time. thank you for being so kind, funny, and thoughtful (and patient)! not a day goes by where i’m not thankful for our friendship :)

and a million thanks to hana @wqnwoos and jackie @97-liners for helping me with edits. literally you guys are insane writers and i will never stop looking up to you.

i. strawberries (the summer we were young)

When a strawberry is ripe, the seeds push out from the heart of the fruit, as if it's bursting from the inside out.

This is one of the few and only things you've learned by living in Seogwipo, where strawberry season comes like a supernova. The May sun, full and heavy, peels into summer, and the roadside farms open their doors, trying to catch stray vacationers from Jeju City on the other side of the island.

That being said, there are approximately two things to do here. One of them is farm. The other is pretend like you have a life, which is your childhood friend Yizhuo's favorite thing to do when she's back from university on summer break.

Today, this involved convincing her ritzy, too-good Seoul friends that they're missing out on this side of Jeju. (Missing out on what? You're not sure. Perhaps the chipped paint of the mural walls, or the endless flat-topped stretches of seagrass. Yizhuo isn't fooling anyone, but you've always liked stretching your legs out in the bed of her pick-up, even on the long drive to nowhere.)

Unsurprisingly, her friends quickly came to the same conclusion. Just one look at your local strawberry patch, with none of the glamour of the bloated tourist traps in the city, and they decided they'd rather spend the afternoon at the beach.

It was then, between the fragaria blooms, when you met Mingyu. He asked for your name, and the rest was history. Yizhuo and co. scattered like the grasping hands of an overripe dandelion and you learned that he was, one, the newly-graduated son of a pair of local farmers, and two, very, very attractive. Almost too much so, especially for a place like this.

Now he holds up a berry, a bright red murder between his fingers, and tells you to try it.

"You must be delusional if you think i'm taking food from a stranger," you laugh, perched on the fence bordering the field. It sprawls before you, melon stripes on the sunbaked ground.

"No, my name is Mingyu," he replies. "No idea who delusional is." His smile, all bright lip and snaggletooth, tears into the scarlet belly of a newly picked strawberry.

"We all know what happened to Persephone."

"Well, if the underworld was a strawberry patch, I wouldn't mind being stuck there for all of eternity."

"What're you picking all these for, anyway?" you ask, watching Mingyu struggle with his too-big straw hat between the vines. His woven basket bleeds over with little berries.

"Jam. I make it on the very first day of every summer."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who trespassed on my farm. You're cute, but I won't let you off easy."

He laughs at how you balk, clearly red-handed. You're not sure how to tell him you don't think you were supposed to be here either. You don't do things like sit in the back of trucks, trespass, or talk to pretty farmer boys who take a fancy to you, but it's the summer before you graduate and you're not even sure how long you'll have to continue making bad decisions.

"Are you gonna take my first-born now?" you joke instead. The daylight runs down the rim of Mingyu's hat, trickles down his brow, and you wish you could pour the image of him into a jar and keep it forever.

"No, but I will invite you in for some fresh jam on toast. I baked a loaf this morning." and when you say nothing, he continues. "The strawberries are only good once a year. It's the best you'll ever have. Promise."

It's a whine and a half, and somehow you convince yourself this will be the last bad decision you'll make. You've been here long enough to know that good things don't come twice in Seogwipo, and he is unlikely to be an exception.

Yizhuo blows up your phone, you tie the gingham apron around Mingyu's tiny waist, and the basket turns to blood in the saucepan.

Mingyu is right. Love comes to you in that kitchen, high and red like the sun, and the jam never tastes as good as it does that summer.

ii. watermelon (hollowed out, like a magic trick)

"A good watermelon sounds like a heartbeat."

You watch Mingyu heave the fruit, small and striped, out of his grocery bag. It joins the array of egg sandwiches and banana milks you picked up from the store together earlier. (There should have been chocolate Pepero too, but you split the box on the walk).

You're on a picnic, sprawled out on the outcropping overlooking the water. The path up is basically right behind your house, but you had never cared to visit. It had always been the local makeout spot, a schlocky teen crawl for those with nothing better to do, and yet, with Mingyu stretched out beside you, it seems newer. More exciting.

You're still just friends, or at least that's what you told Yizhuo. But ever since you sat on Mingyu's kitchen counter and ate from his jam-covered spatula, you don't think you've gone a week without seeing him. It's been almost two months, which seems so long and yet not long enough—he makes it easy to be greedy.

"See?" He thumps the watermelon with the heel of his palm. "Try it."

You already went through this entire charade at the grocery store, right in front of all the local aunties, but you indulge him. There's little point to triple checking if it's still ripe, but you think he just likes hitting it.

"It sounds good," you say. "But how are we even gonna eat it? We don't have a knife."

"Watch this." Mingyu procures a coin from his pocket. "You didn't learn this in elementary school? I feel like everyone was doing it."

"Here?" you ask, incredulous.

"Yeah, here. I grew up here too, you know."

He holds the edge of the coin to the skin and slams his palm into it once more, so that it lodges itself into the rind, and begins dragging it around the fruit. You start to wonder if he bought the watermelon just to show you a party trick—not that you mind, though. The strain of his biceps peeks through his rolled up white tee, and you remember why he was able to stop you with just one look back when you first met.

"No way." The watermelon is so ripe, it bleeds around the incision. "I feel like I know everyone here. And I definitely would have remembered you."

"I was probably, like, two grades above you," he replies. "And my parents shipped me off to live with my cousins after elementary school. They said I should get out of Seogwipo and experience the real world."

"Good call. There's nothing here." You watch Mingyu spin the melon over to cut through the other side. The coin catches the sunlight, and it looks like gold. "I wish I left for university. The one here is so small."

"Really?" He pauses to show you his handiwork. The two melon halves roll over on their backs, their cut edge cruel and jagged. "Cool, huh?"

"Impressive," you say. "Honestly. I really didn't think that would work."

"I didn't either when I first saw someone do it. But I’ll try anything once," he replies, ripping open the packaging of the plastic spoon from the bag. "I can't believe you don't like it here."

"You do?"

"Yeah. A lot." He shoves the spoon in his mouth, and you watch the watermelon juice pool around his lips. "I missed home. The trees and the tall grass and the ocean. All the fruits. Everything. I learned to ride a bike, right down there by the water."

"Hm." He passes you the spoon. You don't want to hog it, so you carve out a piece bigger than you need. "Are you gonna work at the farm?"

"Maybe. Haven't decided yet," he says. "I think I want to be here, though. Maybe do something with food, but I want to be home."

"That's funny, because I think I’ve always wanted to live a different life. Or at least one somewhere else."

"You want to go to law school, right?"

"Yeah." Mingyu is right. The watermelon is all sugar, and you would almost feel guilty for eating it if it wasn't technically good for you. "I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. It's something about the people watching, I think."

"That’s really cool," Mingyu says, mouth full but no less sincere. It's then that you notice your shoulders are almost touching, and your heart crawls back up to your mouth. "You know what you want. I admire that."

He makes it sound like a compliment, but you're sure it's a curse.

You think of your parents. There's a permanent wrinkle ironed into their foreheads, the paper crease of expectations and high standards. It's not that they didn't care, but their kind of care was a humbled sort, made heavy by a hard life. It didn't help that your big sister Seohyun went straight from Yonsei to work a big tech job in San Francisco and never once looked back.

But you can't blame any of them—wanting has always been a hereditary failing. Sometimes Yizhuo will catch you frowning at nothing, and then you remember that life isn't a performance and every day ends at the same time no matter how hard you work. But you don't know how to tell her that the only thing you can do sometimes is want, because otherwise you wouldn't really have much at all.

It seems like the exact opposite of how Mingyu lives—everything about him seems to pass like the seasons. Maybe that's why you can't seem to get enough of each other.

"Thank you. Really." You dig the spoon into your half of the melon. There isn't much left. "You're way too nice to me."

"It’s not hard to be," he laughs. "Maybe you're just too hard on yourself."

You're losing track of the distance between the two of you. You can almost feel the heat playing off his skin.

"Maybe."

It's then, under the veil of summer, where you meet Mingyu's gaze and, finally, things seem close to simple.

All you know are his eyes, heavy with sun, and then the slow, slow move of his lips against yours. He tastes like August, long and sweet, and for once you know what it's like to not only want, but to have, and to have again.

The ocean sings on the horizon, and the watermelon bellies weep.

iii. adzuki beans (or, the blood of a headless taiyaki)

Mingyu eats taiyaki headfirst because he says it hurts less.

"That makes no sense," you tell him, your pinkies linked. You never really liked holding hands, but yours fits so perfectly in Mingyu's and there's some girlish, childlike shine to it when you watch his finger search for yours after just a moment separated.

"What do you mean."

He breaks your gaze to eye a red bean taiyaki, like an unwilling predator sizing up their prey. It's the lamest, most embarrassing iteration of National Geographic you've ever seen, and yet you cannot find any fiber within yourself not deeply in love with the lion.

Fall is a forgiving place for your relationship to settle. You're now a senior at university and he's started his gap year. Gap implies he's in the middle of something, but in true Mingyu fashion, he leaves it up to fate, or chance, or something not nearly as kind (whim).

"Taiyaki isn't alive. And why would you want to pretend it is? Eating gummy bears would become an extinction event."

"It kind of is." He holds out the tail end of the taiyaki, the pastry almost explicitly flayed open, in front of you to eat. "Why does the Haribo bear have a face? Why do the gummy bears live in a gummy forest?"

"Great, so now I can’t even enjoy gummy bears without feeling like a serial killer?"

You dig your pointer into his shoulders, broad from all the time he spends on the farm. To think that his hands, big and weathered, were made to pick berries (and now wrap around your pinky finger) is bruising, if not ridiculously funny.

"It's a crime of passion. Gummy passion. Prosecute that."

He kisses your cheek and your heart almost squeezes into two.

The terrible thing about being with Mingyu is how seemingly endless his affection is. Now he's feeding you in public and buying the two of you matching socks (cat and dog, to be exact), although you'll admit it's a little charming, even if the neighbors do gossip.

He's sweet, too sweet, and his kisses stick to the back of your throat.

But you can't be fooled. There's an unsaid violence to the way Mingyu loves. (The meticulous spiral of the peel he carves when you ask for him to cut you an apple. The grind, decisive and cruel, of a knife against a cutting board. A pair of canines against your neck, your jaw.)

Even now, he bites the head off another unwitting taiyaki before stuffing it back in the bag.

"We're still splitsing, right?" he says, with perhaps 1% of his mouth available for speaking and the other 99% murder machine.

Splits, he always says before you share food. You never had the heart to tell him that it's in the same family as mines or sharesies or takebacks—silly childhood relics, ones that no one uses anymore because they don't mean anything.

This time, you don't hear him because you're thinking about the law school fair you went to before Mingyu picked you up. The future is so close, it scares you. A year from now, what ground would you be standing on? Would it smell like this—the peat, the thread-spool fields, the balm of the ocean? Would you still have Mingyu's finger wrapped round yours?

"Have you decided if you're staying at the farm?" you ask.

"Not really." He uses the back of his hand to wipe off his chin. "If my sister decides to take over, I’m actually kinda thinking of going to pastry school instead of getting a masters."

Mingyu had been toying with the idea for some time after you had talked about it on the outlook. It started off as a joke (September; a galette), then a what if (October; green tea mochi), and now it sits at a kinda.

"Kinda?"

The word gathers speed in the pachinko machine of your mind. You never liked being a kinda person. For Mingyu, it seems like a luxury of a word, but for you, it's really just another thing to hide behind. Kinda talented, kinda ambitious, kinda just there. You're always one foot in, one foot out of something better.

"Yeah, kinda. Why?"

"I dunno. What if we both end up leaving?"

"Maybe. You still want to, right?"

You would be lying if you said you didn't—it's what you always wanted. Seogwipo has been a sun-rot, too-small crutch for you, but you would also be lying if you said you weren't terrified that you'd eventually come back, limping like some doomed Icarus, unable to truly make it in the real world.

Then you think of the pockmarked farmland beside your home, lacy with the fall harvest. Even now, you can trace the endless blue of the coastline all the way there, cut through all the maybes and just let the sound of the ocean fold you into sleep like you were a child again. You wonder if Seohyun, all the way on the other side of the world, ever misses it.

"I’m not sure," you say, because, as much as you don't like it, it's the only answer you have.

"It's ok. You'll figure it out. You always do." He squeezes your cheeks together between his thumb and index, laughing at how they pillow out underneath his fingers. "Screw pastry school. I could come with you. Who else would keep you fed?"

Mingyu's complete and unfounded belief in you makes you feel something close to betrayal. How could he say any of that? With what proof? Only someone like Mingyu would be able to hold the wrinkled fruit of your unremarkable life between his palms and see something better than that. Maybe it's because he grew up on a farm. Either that, or he already cares for you too much, too painfully.

Secrets are easy to keep when they look like yours. At least here, in the pit of your stomach, you can keep count, take attendance of them, all your tittering, small anxieties. Some days it feels like your ribs are pressing out, but it's better than cutting everything loose to spill out over what little you do have control over.

You can handle a little pressure. You have to.

What concerns you is the hand Mingyu's got across your chest. With one look, he just might gut you. A twist of the heart-knife, and all those carefully wound insides carved out in an instant—maybe he'd pity you, but worse than that, he'd likely be disappointed.

For you, expectation has always stood taller than shame, and the idea that he sees something past you makes you want to run away.

"I could be a house husband," he says as easily as ever. "You'll be off saving the world, arguing with whoever, and I'll be there to run you a bath afterwards."

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you reply, binding up the strange, hollow feeling in your stomach with a laugh.

There's a scared little girl hiding inside you, and whether Mingyu sees her or not hurts the same. A spade is a spade. You can only pretend so long.

You look at the taiyaki floating in their wax paper bag, blinded and wrought open by the same grin that now peels you down, and you're not hungry anymore.

iv. winter pears (rotten, outside your parents' house)

Mingyu's family loves Christmas.

You think it's because of the pear trees they have in the front yard. They stand bravely before the house, all emerald ash and wisdom in the December freeze. Run your palms over the knobs and it's like you can see into a sleepy visage of simpler days past. (Below its heart, carved: 1982, the year the farm was bought. Along the tangle of the roots: gyu waz here, in an unsure, childish scrawl.)

Winter comes to the countryside crawling on its hands and knees. On days it doesn't snow, there's a mist, boggy and clingy. You've come to realize the cold is more of a threat than a promise, and so the pear trees still bear fruit; the silvery branches hang heavy, faithful.

The first day of December, Mingyu's parents had tasked the two of you with decorating the farmhouse, a duty you took very seriously. You wrapped Mingyu up in string lights and watched him blink in and out like your own personal firefly.

It wasn't until you watched the rafters, the barn doors, the joyous vault of the ceiling all glow, like a spectacular firework, that you finally started to understand why Mingyu was so into the holidays.

It was in the yellow blush of the string lights that you had your first pear from the tree, which Mingyu insisted was a holiday tradition. We make poached pears, he said, mid-bite. You simmer the pear in syrup until it gets so soft, you can cut into it with a fork. Just like butter.

That same night, he kissed you, mouth hot and trembling and tasting of honey, and pressed you against the bark so hard, you could feel the grit of its veins against your skin.

You think December became your favorite month, and pears your favorite fruit.

So much so, that for the entire month, you try to put away your worries about law school applications to celebrate with Mingyu and his family.

You learn his mom makes the best hot chocolate (a cinnamon stick and a dogged devotion to the whisk), and that Mingyu has no clue on God's green earth how to ice skate. (He careens right into your chest the first time. You spend the next hour with him attached to you like a backpack—he manages to find the most impractical ways to do anything, which you somehow admire the most). On Sundays, Yizhuo ditches her Seoul friends and instead accompanies you to the mall two towns over, where she watches you compare different ties and watches and collagen creams as you decide on gifts for his family. (Lilac is so last year, she'd say, stirring the straw of a watered-down milk tea.)

It's not until the weekend before Christmas when you realize just how serious things have gotten. Your feet understand the meander of the dirt path to the farmhouse, your bones the scent of the yellow-skinned apple, the faded wildflowers. Your palms crave the plush of the rug they have in front of the fireplace. Hell, you can't even eat soondubu without thinking of the kind Mingyu's dad makes, with extra anchovies and green onion.

You don't think about what this means. There are ten days left in December and love poured from a full cup never seems to run out.

"Please let me carry some of those," Mingyu wheedles. "Oh my god. I'm like the worst boyfriend in the world."

"No, you are not." you make your way up to his doorstep, taking care to one-two step over the stray roots of one of the pear trees. It's second nature to you by now. "The moment I hand you a box, you are gonna start trying to figure out what it is."

He harumphs and plucks the big one off the top anyway, the one he knows you can't reach. "I didn't even know you were getting us gifts. You didn't have to."

"It's the least I could do. Who shows up to a holiday dinner emptyhanded?" You stop at the front door. "And stop shaking it," you laugh, using the tip of your boot to nudge his shin.

"Okay. Okay," he says, saccharine, adoring, before grabbing the doorknob. "Ready? Are you nervous? You shouldn't be nervous, right? It's not fancy or anything, if you were worried about that."

And that's the thing that wedges itself between your ribs. Mingyu and his whole family are like this. They love and worry and love again; it presses deep into you, fills you, and overflows.

So here you are, standing in your nicest dress and balancing a stack of gifts you hope will amount to something, never enough but something, to repay the people who you feel have loved you more than you deserve. It's all you really have. You do your best, and yet you know when that door opens, it'll all be washed away in a high-tide flurry of hugs and laughter and the familiar press of Bobpul's wet nose against your leg. They're just those kinds of people—they would be just as happy if you didn't bring anything at all, and somehow that makes you feel even more guilty.

"No, no," you wave him off. "I’m fine. Excited."

When Mingyu opens the door, everything goes just as you expected. His sister takes your coat, your gifts are whisked away to the tree (Aji has already figured out which one is his), and his parents descend upon you in a choking swell of warmth and charity.

We baked some fresh bread for your parents (—Thank you so much, but you really shouldn't have.). You look so beautiful in that color (—No, no, you flatter me too much.). Mingyu better be taking good care of you (—He is. He really, really is.).

The kitchen is gauzy with cinnamon, anise. They must be making their famous poached pears, which Mingyu remarks on, just like clockwork.

Dinner passes the same way. It bubbles over with affection, and you feel swallowed by an impossible yearning. This—a full table and a hand to hold underneath it—did you deserve this? And could you keep it?

For an instant, you picture yourself, years later, at this same seat. Mingyu would be fussing over the rice cakes, his apron still gingham because it reminds him of the day you two met. His parents, grayer but no less happy, bickering over the shade of tinsel on the tree. And the dogs, coiled at your feet like they are now. The vision laps at your bones like you're a raft in a storm.

You're pulled back into the moment when Mingyu squeezes your hand, grounding and insistent. "Mom asked how school was going. I told her I think you're basically the smartest person I know, and I’m pretty sure you're getting into whatever law school you want."

Mingyu's parents laugh, and they cut through their pears.

"Oh, sorry," you say. "Um."

Clink. Knife meets flesh, meets porcelain. Your cheeks are hot. You wanted to talk about anything other than yourself tonight. Clink.

"The top programs are a reach, but it'd be nice." clink. "I just want to get in somewhere."

"They’re all so far away," Mingyu's mom remarks. "So grown up. Any school will be lucky to have you. You'll get into all of them."

Clink.

"Or maybe you can stay here." You watch the prongs of Mingyu's father's fork disappear into the pear. "Keep us old folk company."

"No, no, I think Mingyu should take notes and get off his lazy ass," his sister says, teasing. "Going back to the city will be good for him."

"So you can, what, burn down the kitchen again?" Mingyu grumbles, and the whole table seems to boil over with laughter.

"We’re kidding," his mom tells you. "No matter where you go, I’m sure you'll do great. We can even throw you a party at the end of the year. For graduating."

Clink. Clink.

There's a horrible uneasiness writhing around in your stomach. It's pear and syrup and clove and a blackness, an anxious, selfish one that sucks up all the generosity of the evening and turns it into shame.

Mingyu's mom is talking about throwing you a graduation party, something you didn't even think to do for yourself, and here you are, thinking about the shaking moment you open your rejection letters and the lonely path you'll draw on your way back home.

It's ok. They missed out, Mingyu would say, pouring you a consolation drink, and then it would be over. You'd go home and sit on your bed and the trifold piece of paper would go round and round your head like it was in a washing machine.

Your heart, an inventory of tasks and goals and tally marks. Things you've taken and things you've owed. It's a soft, boneless excuse. Be grateful. Give them that, at least.

Clink.

Dessert ends before you can tell his family not to get their hopes up. Mingyu's mom sends you off with your loaf of bread and a kiss on the cheek, and the moment is gone.

"Gyu," you call out on the steps in front of the house.

There are words at the seam of your lips. You want to tell him you're sorry for worrying so much. For making the whole dinner about you and then very possibly having nothing to show for it when it matters. For the heaviness in your chest. Your cowardice. But none of it comes out.

Instead you watch Mingyu pull at the leaves of a pear tree, watching the frost-filigree they get at the end of the season. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at you, as if he's on the hazy cover of a magazine. His eyes bend so wonderfully at the corners when he looks at you, and it breaks your heart.

"You had fun, right?" he asks. "My parents like you a lot, you know. I think they really do."

But that's the problem, you want to say. You all do, and I have no idea why.

Some of the pears are beginning to rot now. You watch one drop off the vine, and it caves to the pavement like it was made of nothing at all.

v. wild barley (grows like weeds)

In March, you play house.

Your parents leave on a two week trip to see relatives, and Mingyu takes it upon himself to make sure you survive.

It's a kind, blinding charade.

(7 am, breakfast. You usually don't even eat breakfast, but you wake up to doenjang and a smile, one that presses itself to yours until you're wearing it on the long walk to school.)

(4 pm, the stretch between lunch and dinner. You're muddling through another useless club meeting when Mingyu sends you a picture of him in your mom's apron, making kimchi. Kiss the chef, he texts you. You promise to, over and over and over.)

It's good until it isn't.

That isn't to say that it's Mingyu's fault. In fact, it's never really Mingyu's fault, and that's the worst thing about your relationship. Sometimes you wish he was worse just so there was someone else to blame.

(1 am, a fridge-cold glass of water and a hand on the column of your spine. Can't sleep? He asks. Just had a weird dream, you say.

It's a lie. You're a liar.

You miss your parents and the first wave of acceptance letters comes out in two days. You're not like him. Sleep has never been a cure for the exhaustion you're feeling, and you have no way of telling him that however warm the bed is won't fix that.)

It's on a Thursday afternoon when you open your mailbox and see the tiny, thin envelope that you've been expecting for the past week. You don't need to open it to know what it says, and yet you do it anyway.

The sun is white, a ghost in the spring sky. The ocean bleeds into the overcast, the curly barley stands tall around your feet, and you let the worst letter you've gotten in your life fall upon your shoulders, word by terrible word.

Then you close it, pinching the seam shut, and draw up your brave face. Nothing left to do but be brave. You're convinced you've used up all the sadness in your relationship—spend in pennies and the well still runs dry. Mingyu will cup your cheek and call you darling, pouring into your emptying basin, holey and broken.

You see him now through the kitchen window, Venus in his clamshell of a kitchen. Galbijjim day, he had said this morning. Now, he waves at you, glittery with recognition.

Your throat feels like crumpled paper.

Mingyu smiles at you, hazy through the glass. Your cheeks hurt and your mouth is paper mache, but you smile back anyway.

///

The letters come one after another.

You know what the envelopes hold and yet you keep opening them. The little folder you keep stashed in your bottom drawer gets fatter every passing day because you can't help but revisit your misery, almost as if you need to remind yourself it exists.

Mingyu is none the wiser. Today he decides he'll put off pastry school for one more year. "It doesn't feel like the right time," he says, rolling a log of burdock kimbap up. "You know what I mean?"

No, you don't. You never really do.

You do know, however, that it would feel really fucking bad that, come the end of the year, to have nothing. All your friends would be going somewhere—even Yizhuo opened her acceptance to an MFA program in Shanghai yesterday—and you would be here, still, feet firmly planted in the muddy Jeju dirt like they always had been.

"Hey, don't look so disappointed." he jokes. "Don't tell me you're already trying to get rid of me."

You're not, you really aren't. But part of you wonders if it's just a race to the bottom. If you got rid of him before he decided he wanted to get rid of you, maybe it would hurt a lot less. One less letter for the folder.

"Never. But imagine if you picked up a French accent at pastry school. Then I’d consider it. Maybe."

You watch his knife rock back and forth on the cutting board as he cuts the kimbap.

"Some for you. And more for me," he says, in what you can only describe as someone attempting to speak French when they've never heard it before. "Unless you want more, mon cherie."

He brings the plates to the table, his grin nothing short of dizzying.

"I’m irresistible, huh? Still wanna leave me now?"

"You're gonna have to try a little harder than that, I think."

The words roll off your tongue, easily, traitorously.

You watch the kimbap disappear off of Mingyu's plate.

Going, going, gone.

///

Seogwipo is always dark at night, only kept alive by the glow of the moonlit sea.

You can't sleep. Again. And so you sit out on the steps in front of your house, letting the twilight wrap around you like a blanket.

You got your last letter back earlier today. You held your breath and tore it open like you would a birthday card with money in it.

Waitlisted.

It was surely better than a rejection, but some naive, child-eyed part of you thought that if you had just closed your eyes and hoped hard enough, things would work out the way you had planned. Tragically, it wasn't enough this time. You wanted and wanted and you thought maybe that would mean you'd come close to deserving it.

Your parents called today. After managing to sideline the issue of basically the rest of your entire life, they had finally cut through your sad little charade. No good news yet, huh?

No, but—

It was always like that with you. No, but it's not as bad as you think. No, but give me a chance. No, but I’m trying. I've been trying.

You wish things didn't come out of you so complicated. That you could be like Seohyun, who could go through school with her eyes closed and still graduate at the top of her class. Instead, you parade around your little failures, trying to convince people it all could mean something only if they squinted. See? It isn't so bad.

You think you're past the point of crying about it. Your stomach hurts, you're cold, and most of all, you just want to go back to bed. Plus, although Mingyu sleeps like a log, you think he's developed a sixth sense for whenever you get up too early.

Time to be brave, you've been telling yourself, although you don't know who you're pretending for anymore.

So you nudge the front door open—it's so old, it wails if you come at it with any more force—and, to your surprise, see the light above the kitchen sink turned on.

It's not very bright, but it's enough to make out Mingyu's broad silhouette, back turned to you as he makes a cup of tea. He's humming one of his made-up songs.

"Mingyu?"

"There you are," he says, turning around. "Just came out to check on you. And make you some tea."

The kettle whizzes. Your gut twists.

You still haven't said anything to Mingyu. To manage your own disappointment was one thing—you don't think you could handle another person's. And yet when he stands there, Pororo mug between his huge hands, you feel as if you are holding a knife, big and guilty and bloody.

"I-I'm fine, Gyu. Honest." you watch his expression flicker, unreadable in the persimmon lamplight. "Sorry you had to come out. It's chilly out here."

"You know, you can tell me what's going on. I won't judge."

No, no, no. This is the last conversation you wanted to have, with the last person you wanted to have it with.

You feel feverish. You think your hands are shaking.

"Mingyu, I swear—"

"Whatever it is, we can fix it. I know we can."

That almost makes you want to laugh if you didn't want to cry so bad. Of fucking course he would say that. Mingyu, who treats life like it's the watermelon trick he showed you on the outlook, wants to put a bandaid on this whole thing, as if that could come close to fixing it.

He'd tell you to curl up on the couch with a bad movie while he orders takeout. Kiss you on the top of the head. It's ok, baby. Just another bad day for the person who has the worst luck in the world. Another lump of problems for him to try and make better. If he isn't sick of you now, he sure would be soon enough.

"It’s okay," you say, steeling your voice. "It really isn't a big deal. Let's just go back to sleep."

You try to walk away, but the hardness in Mingyu's eyes roots you down to the tile.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Pushing me away," he swallows. "Like you always do. I know something's going on."

"I’m not, i just—"

"You just what? You can't help it?"

"No, I—"

"Because you like to know that you can? That you can say whatever and then watch me come back?" A fragmented, heavy silence thrums between you. He's looking at you like he's daring you to say something, anything. His gaze is black. "What am I good for if you can't tell me anything?"

There's that familiar, stinging pressure behind your eyes. You think you're crying, but you're not sure. Maybe you've been crying this whole time.

"Fine," you bite. Your blood feels like hot metal. "You really wanna know? I didn't get into law school. There. Happy now?"

Mingyu looks stung.

"W-why didn't you tell me?"

Because I thought you would stop loving me. I thought you would have finally had enough.

"Because it's not all about you, Mingyu."

The words, selfish and damning, burn your tongue. Mingyu is right. This is what you always do. You fuck up and then make everyone else hurt for it.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu says. His voice doesn't sound like his. Instead, the words seem to hang in the air, trembling and holding their breath, waiting for an apology you can't give yet. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's ok." You swallow hard, and it hurts. "Let's just go back to bed."

It's getting colder and colder. You think there's a little hole in your sock, right above the cat's whiskers.

Mingyu doesn't reach for you as he passes to get to the hallway. Maybe he doesn't know how to anymore.

The Pororo cup is left abandoned on the counter. You walk over and read the label on the tea bag—barley, because you have class tomorrow morning.

You pick it up, let the ceramic buzz between your hands with whatever warmth it has left, and hold it to your lips.

It's cold now, but all you can think to do is drink it. Erase all the evidence that tonight ever happened, and maybe it'll be nothing more than a bad dream in the morning.

There's honey at the bottom of the cup. It sears the back of your throat, but you drink until there's nothing left.

vi. the peach blossoms (without fail, bloom every August. I miss you.)

You broke up the next day.

Even now, you remember what happened. You had woken up early that morning to make your own breakfast because you couldn't allow Mingyu to give you any more of himself. Your hands could only hold, shatter, so much.

"Mingyu, I think we should...." You looked at the zigzags of jam on your toast, angry and uneven. "I think we should stop seeing each other. For now," you had added, as if that made anything better at all.

Somehow that seemed more merciful at the time. Really, you think it just showed your cowardice. If you were going to break his heart, you might as well have gone all the way the first time.

Maybe it was a good thing that Mingyu saw right through you. He always did.

"So that's it, huh? You're just gonna give up on us?"

"No, I just...need some time."

"How long?" he asked. "Be honest with me. Because you know I’ll wait."

"I don't know." You couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes reached and reached over that kitchen table and you denied him even that.

"Don't you always know?" he asked, pitifully, desperately. "Don't you want this to work?"

And you did. In fact, you don't think you had ever wanted anything more, and it was that that scared you. You had already lost law school—you couldn't let the only other thing in your life let you go. So you pulled the trigger first.

"We should just end things. I'm sorry. I can't give you what you need."

He packed his bag within the hour, and you think everything, from then on, froze inside you. You didn't move from your seat until your parents came home from the airport later that day and asked why there were two plates of toast still on the table.

You think you knew, someplace, inevitably, this would happen. You, who only knew hunger, had reached deep inside Mingyu and rooted out a love you didn't think you were worthy of having. And yet you still ate from the vine, bite after guilty bite, until you couldn't take any more. The only time he asked you for anything at all, you couldn't give it to him—such was the irony of your relationship.

Maybe you were doomed the moment the first strawberry hit your tongue, just like you had said, all that time ago.

About a month later, you got another letter in the mail. Chungnam National University Law School, it read. This one was fat, in one of those brown envelopes lined with bubble wrap. Somehow, miraculously, that position on the waitlist had turned into an acceptance. You held the package to your chest and cried, loud and with abandon, as if taking a deep breath after almost drowning.

Ironically, the first person you wanted to tell was Mingyu. But the good news you needed to save your relationship came too little, too late. Perhaps that meant it had no legs to stand on in the first place, but that didn't stop you from missing it. Instead, you told Yizhuo, and she drove you to Jeju City and treated you to dinner. "You should just call him," she had said. "Hey, don't look at me like that. He'd probably pick up on the first ring."

The city is swathed in August's crimson summer—peach season. The narrow streets are lined with peach trees, the fruits glowing like fat drops of sunlight. All you do these days is plan for your eventual move to Daejeon and the start of a life that seems newer and shinier than your own. But surrounded by the cicada song, the velvet treeline, the rain-soaked asphalt, somehow you think you're going to miss Seogwipo more than you think.

(Fickle, fickle heart. You always needed things to be taken away to really be able to appreciate them. Somehow, all that wanting had boiled down to something more satisfying, more filling.)

You wonder how Mingyu is. Now that you think about it, he seems just as much a part of Seogwipo as the farm he lives on. It was only last summer when you had first met him in the field, set on fire by the strawberry harvest. You think about him now, peddling around that ridiculous wicker basket to make jam. Maybe talking to another pretty girl, someone as naive, cruel as you had been.

Not long ago, you considered calling him to apologize, but that'd just be another thing to be selfish about. A little time and some warm weather, and I’m calling to finally wash my hands of you. That's what it would sound like, no matter what you said. Still, it didn't stop you from thinking of him, every flower, every season.

"You know, I always wanted to grow peach trees. But I think we've always been a pear kind of family."

Mingyu. If a voice could cut through air, it'd be his.

You whip around, half-believing you're hearing things. Certainly that would be easier, but you're learning that there are some things you can't run from.

And like a picture, Mingyu stands tall, golden, framed by the peach blossoms. Not a thing about him has changed. Not even the way he looks at you.

"Mingyu," you breathe. Unfortunately, none of the times you replayed your last conversation with him help you come up with something to say, because in none of them did you anticipate him coming back. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I live here, silly."

"No way," you reply, scrambling. "Crazy, because I live here too."

You both laugh nervously, a silly, bubbly thing, but you feel like you're going to throw up. It's only now that you realize you're kind of on the walk to his place. Seogwipo has never had places to hide.

"I...um." You try and disentangle the guilt from the nostalgia from the scent of the peaches and the warmth on his face. They all look the same. You missed him. "I got into law school. In Daejeon."

"I heard," he says. "Not surprised at all. I always knew you would."

"Thank you. I mean it." The cicadas buzz around you, as if they know they have an important silence to fill. "You're staying in town, right?"

"Actually, I decided to apply to culinary school. It finally felt right, you know? I'm leaving at the end of the summer, but it's just in Jeju City. I couldn't leave the island."

"Thank goodness. I don't know if you could tell, but I kind of always hoped you would. I don't think I’ve ever eaten better food." Your voice wobbles, but it gets there. "You'll do amazing."

Then time stretches and forces you to recognize, reckon with, the moment you're in. You wonder if he feels the same way you do—bruised, overripe. If there's still a space in his heart for you.

Deep breath. Life only gives you so many chances.

"Mingyu, I’m sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't make us work. You deserved better." Saying it feels like peeling the skin of your heart back. There's still a palpable distance between the two of you—you think that had always been there—but it feels more comfortable in a way it never did before.

"Don’t apologize," he says, easily, as he always does. Everything seems to flow off him like water, and you think that's the part of him you loved the most because it was the one thing you couldn't touch. "We loved each other. I think that much was true."

A jasmine breeze curls through the trees, sending the blossoms fluttering around you like ink in water. The very first time you met Mingyu, you thought the image of him, haloed with the sunset, was the one you wanted to keep forever. And yet, somehow, you don't think you'll ever forget the way he looks right now.

"Will you ever come back to Seogwipo?" you ask.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing—you were always the one who wanted to get out of here." He grins, ear to ear. "Of course I'm coming back. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Yeah. I think I know what you mean."

The sea, the clay dirt, Mingyu. Even yourself, clumsy and care-worn. You think, somewhere along the line, you forgot how to love. But you're learning—one step at a time.

"Friends," you say. "Let's be friends. If you'll let me."

"Thought you would never ask. Gladly. Always." The space between you seizes, like it's holding in a breath. Maybe one day, you'll think of closing it once more, but you like where you stand now. You can admire him better from a distance, without your fingerprints all over him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, something he does before he gets ready to leave. But before he does—"I'll see you soon, okay? You better come back. Promise me."

For the first time, you see the honesty in his eyes and you really, truly believe him.

"Promise."

The Seogwipo sun is high and red in the sky when you wave Mingyu goodbye. It feels like you're coming to an end of a long summer, but you're not afraid. You watch the wind dance through the peach blossoms, their branches never searching, never wanting, and you finally feel as if you've arrived home.

#literally on my hands and knees begging for the tags to work #mine #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu angst #seventeen angst #mingyu imagines

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