#a full fucking 4 MONTHS before they even got engaged

[blueskiesagain]

My sister and her husband are getting married which technically they already did but then they separated bc (I later found out) she has been HITTING and CHOKING him and she eventually moved out of their house but now they're going through couples therapy and going through with having a big wedding (with all their friends and family bc they eloped the first time) and she's still living with my parents and the wedding is SEPTEMBER and jfc like PLEASE JUST GET DIVORCED

#tw domestice abuse #like holy fucking shit #ive always known she has an anger problem #and then she just CASUALLY REVEALED THAT SHE BEATS HER HUSBAND LIKE WTF #I FEEL LIKE IM TAKING CRAZY PILLS #they met 2 momths before my wedding #and she bought a wedding dress while i was on my honeymoon #yes you read that right #my sister bought her wedding dress after 3 months of dating #a full fucking 4 MONTHS before they even got engaged #then she got pregnant and they got married like #exactly a year after they started dating #and then first anniversary #she gets kicked out of the house bc of the aforementioned physical abuse #and im over here just trying to live my damn life #like i really REALLY thought she changed after having her first kid #diasterwedding

[teyamskxawng]

In Heat [VII]

Lo'ak Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Previously: Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V, Chapter VI

The rundown: After months of courting, you and Lo’ak finally make Tsaheylu.

Warnings: 18+ content, language, mention of reader's deceased parents, smut, characters are aged up, minors do not interact!! please

WC: 12.2k

A/N: This can surprisingly be read separate from the rest of the fic if you stumble across this and don’t wanna read the six prior chapters lol!! Thank you to anyone who’s been reading from the beginning, ily and I wanna give you flowers <3 this chapter was funnn + heavily inspired by the 2009 film

*4 months later*

With your eyes gently shut, you let yourself immerse in the soothing touch of your parents' heartfelt embrace. Cradled in their loving arms, you could almost believe they were actually in front of you, as if the RDA hadn't ruined your life and stolen them from you over half a decade ago. Slowly letting your eyes blink open, you took in the beautiful sight of their overjoyed expressions.

Throughout the years, you prioritized visiting your departed parents at the Tree of Souls every few days. But today's meeting was especially significant. It wasn't until today that you finally gathered the courage to tell them about your new relationship with Lo'ak.

Procrastination had been your ally in this matter, as you were well aware of how soul-crushing it would be to watch their delightful smiles and hear their excited words of praise and encouragement, knowing all too well that their appearances were a mere illusion. 

Eywa knows Mo'at would have your ear if she ever heard you speak down on the cultural significance of connecting with your ancestors through the tree. But still, you were all too aware that your parents couldn’t physically be with you, nor could they experience the joyous moments brought about by each milestone in your new relationship with Lo'ak.

Which was why you knew that engaging in the sensitive conversation with them would be like pouring salt on a still-open wound. Their presence felt so tangible, but deep down, reality weighed on your heart.

Your parents would never have the chance to meet Lo'ak—at least not as the version of the man he had grown into since your parents last knew him as your young, rambunctious friend.

He had changed so much since then, and they would never see the person he had become. Lo'ak was now mature and full of wisdom, but he still possessed those endearing quirks that only grew more captivating with time. Your parents didn't have the chance to give their blessing to your union, and you wouldn't get to witness their reluctant smiles give way to roaring laughter as they’d have watched Lo’ak’s spirited attempts to impress them.

Probably most heartbreaking of all, they wouldn't ever have the chance to watch their future grandchildren scamper around in sheer delight, growing up before their very eyes.

It was funny how life worked. Throughout your entire childhood, there were so many questions swirling around your mind—questions you’d always wanted to ask your parents but never got the chance to. You were too young, too innocent, and just too damn content in your blissful ignorance to even fathom the reality that one day your parents would be snatched away from you in what seemed like the blink of an eye. 

There were so many things left unsaid and unexplored. Among the questions crowding your thoughts was their connection, their unyielding love.

How did they know when it was time to leave their separate lives behind and commit to a shared existence?

It wasn’t just idle curiosity; you found yourself in a similar situation with Lo’ak. You loved him more than anything, and spending a lifetime together seemed inevitable. It was just a question of when and how the fuck you were supposed to approach that kind of topic.

Neytiri and Jake would've undoubtedly shed some light on your burning inquiries. They'd been there, done that, and would have happily guided you through the somewhat awkward yet endearing conundrum with honest advice. However, you couldn’t shake the odd feeling that clouded your judgment every time you considered confiding in them about their own son. It was just... weird. There was something too personal about it, making it feel less like asking for genuine wisdom and more like prying into an intimate family matter. They were Lo'ak's parents, not yours.

So, plagued by unanswered questions, you made the impulsive decision to reach out to your parents now that their spiritual presence stood before you.

“How did you know when it was the right time to make Tsaheylu?” you asked, full of uncertainty and curious desire. “I want to... I'm just...” Your voice faltered, the words stumbling and eventually fading away like a sad, distant echo. 

Your mother, sensing your unease, gently cradled your face in her warm hand. Her touch was so delicate; it felt like the brush of a feather, like a figment in the corner of your imagination. Probably because she was, quite literally, nothing more than a figment in the corner of your imagination.

“You will know when the moment is right, tìyawn,” she said with an air of soft reassurance that only a mother could provide. 

However, you couldn’t escape the persistent, nagging feeling in your chest.

The thing was, you had no idea when the right time to become mated to Lo'ak would come. Shaking your head in denial, you tried to convey your confusion without words.

That was when your father chimed in, his voice powerful yet soothing as ever.

“Eywa works in unspeakable ways. Always know that she will take care of you.”

Your father always spoke in tongues, offering words of wisdom wrapped in perplexing phrases. His words should have comforted you—they'd done so countless times before, providing you with food for thought that would last for days on end, giving you at least something to remember him by.

But today? Today, they only served to fuel a mounting sense of frustration inside you.

Unspeakable ways, your ass. The sky people killed your parents. They left you an orphaned child, alone and afraid in a world that would never be the same.

“Then why did Eywa take you away from me? Why would she leave me to fend for myself, all alone?” You shouted, no longer able to prevent the dam of emotions from bursting free. It was so unfair.

An overwhelming sensation bubbled up inside you as angry tears began to gather in your eyes. Your parents’ faces grew hazy, and your vision blurred. 

"You are never alone." Your father's voice interrupted your wave of sadness, his brow furrowing in confusion. He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on the top of your head, his thumb softly grazing your temple. “See? We are right here, maite,” he laughed.

The chime of his laughter was so beautiful, so familiar, and you hated that it wasn't real.

Unable to maintain eye contact with your blissfully unaware parents, you swiveled your head away and barely managed to stifle a heart-wrenching sob. This was exactly why you were so weary of approaching such a sensitive topic with your parents' spirits.

Under normal circumstances, during your connection with the Tree of Souls, you easily juggled your emotions and kept things lighthearted—happy and bittersweet. But this time, the pain proved to be too overwhelming, too raw.

“I miss you both so much,” Your voice trembled as the words barely escaped your lips. Filled with grief and longing that seemed to almost strangle your voice, the words hung heavy in the air before dissipating like a delicate mist.

The comforting warmth of your mother's hand slowly receded from your cheek, and the protective touch of your father's hand slipped from your head as you were slowly pulled away from them into a sea of darkness.

As you reluctantly allowed your eyes to flutter open again, you found yourself back in reality, with the Tree of Souls standing majestically before you, adorned with its glowing pink vines. The bittersweet sensation of tears silently carved their way down your cheeks as you disconnected from the tree, gravity dropping your queue against your front with a soft thud. You couldn't even bring yourself to swipe the trail of snot from your nose. You felt numb.

Returning to reality always felt like emerging from a nightmare, with each haunting detail stubbornly clinging to the edges of your consciousness.

Next to you stood Lo’ak, detaching his tswin from an adjacent vine. He was quick to register the pain etched across your face, and with two long strides, he closed the gap between you both. Before you could even process what was happening, he gathered you into his arms, nestling your head securely under his chin.

He rubbed soothing circles into your back, deep enough to release your tension but gentle enough not to overwhelm you, all while whispering calming words into your ear.

“It’s okay, y/n,” he assured you softly. “You’re okay. I’m right here.”

In the sanctuary of Lo’ak’s strong arms, you continued to tremble, seeking solace as you struggled to regain control of your breathing.

Despite your inner turmoil, you felt an overwhelming sense of security enveloping you like a warm blanket with every tight squeeze of Lo’ak’s comforting embrace. As his arms continued to encircle you, providing solace unlike any other, it gradually became easier to control your shaky breaths. Lo'ak seemed to possess a natural ability to right the wrongs in your life, even when everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.

Your thoughts drifted back to the gut-wrenching period following your parents' unexpected deaths. You remembered how deeply that pain had cut, how lost you were in those dark days. Their absence left a deep void in your soul that threatened to swallow you whole.

Back then, in an attempt to cope with your insurmountable grief, you recklessly flung yourself headlong into your warrior training. You ignored the cautious pleas of Jake and Neytiri, who urged you to take a step back from all the violence that suddenly consumed your life. They wanted you to confront the depths of your sorrow and allow yourself time to grieve and heal properly, but their words fell on deaf ears.

You remembered how you stubbornly demanded that Jake let you back onto the training field. You were so intent on becoming the strongest version of yourself so that you could wreak absolute havoc on the RDA and avenge your parents.

And much to Jake's chagrin, you were back on the field just two days later, paired up with Lo’ak for combat training. But Lo'ak wasn’t just another trainee; he was your best friend, and he knew better than anyone that your emotional state was barely hanging by a thread.

When the training started, you swung fiercely at Lo'ak. You were relentless in channeling every ounce of emotion into your powerful strikes, trying to purge the pain from within. You attacked with everything you had, but he refused to strike back. Instead, he sidestepped each of your advances and dodged every one of your hits. At every turn, Lo’ak kept pleading with you to take a break, urging you to take a deep breath and find some other way to let go of all the anger you were holding inside.

But his words only fueled your rage. 

His emotional appeal made you feel more out of control and increased your resolve to vent all those pent-up sentiments. You swung harder and faster at him, trying your best to land a solid hit, irrationally hoping it would somehow free you from your emotions.

Finally, after countless attempts, you managed to cuff Lo'ak hard on the jaw, causing him to stumble back and stare at you wide-eyed in shock. You took full advantage of his momentary bewilderment, managing another sharp hit to his nose. As your fist retracted from its solid connection with his face, it was marred with the dark red stain of his blood. Your stomach churned at the sight, but the part of you that was so angry with the world and all of its inhabitants was relentless.

There you were, standing in front of Lo’ak, fed up with everyone treating you like some delicate little flower. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Come on, Lo’ak! Hit me back!” you yelled at him, your voice echoing off the surrounding trees. The frustration had been building inside you for days, and you finally reached your boiling point. Everyone seemed to tiptoe around you as if you were a grenade, ready to go off at any moment.

Lo’ak stood in front of you, his face etched with concern. He looked into your eyes with a mixture of pity and sympathy—not at all what you wanted.  

“y/n...” he began hesitantly, shaking his head at what could only be described as the shadow of your former self, but his words fell on deaf ears. His refusal to engage only served to fuel your anger even further.

In an act of blind frustration, you pushed him hard in the chest with both of your hands, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction beyond pity.

You didn’t want his sad eyes. You wanted him to feel your fury and understand how tired you were of everything. But much to your disappointment, Lo’ak barely even stumbled from your forceful shove. You moved to shove him again, but in that moment of pure emotion, he reached out and caught hold of your forearms, his grip gentle but firm enough to hold you in place. You tried desperately to pry yourself from his grasp, hissing, scratching, and doing everything in your power to swing at him.

As much as you wanted to best him physically, it was all in vain.

Realizing just how futile your fight truly was, you felt a wave of despair crash down on you. Just like that, all the fire went out of your fight.

Exhausted and defeated, your body went limp in his arms. Your head fell forward onto his shoulder as tears welled up in your eyes—a crushing conclusion to the emotions you had been holding in for way too long. 

Lo’ak slowly released his grip on your forearms, sensing your vulnerability. He hesitated for a moment before carefully wrapping his arms around your fragile, bony frame, a heart-wrenching reminder of the fact that you hadn’t been eating properly or taking care of yourself since the loss of your parents. Despite your frailty, Lo’ak held you just tight enough to keep you steady while providing a comforting presence as tears streamed down your face. You were a wreck, crying and snotting messily into his shoulder, but you didn't have the mental capacity to care.

In times like these, words seemed to fail Lo'ak. But that was perfectly fine with you.

You didn't want him to lie and try to tell you that your parents would be missed, that they were in a better place now. You'd already heard enough of that bullshit, and it didn't help at all. So you were thankful when Lo'ak began to silently trace soothing lines up and down your back with one hand while the other cradled your head against his shoulder.

Your breaths came in short, rapid gasps between each of your sobs—hyperventilating from the emotional turmoil—and normally, you would have been mortified to be so helpless in front of your best friend. But with the weight of the world on your shoulders and an overwhelming sense of exhaustion washing over you like a tidal wave, embarrassment was the least of your concerns. 

All semblance of decorum and composure abandoned, it felt as though everything would come crashing down upon you at any moment. You felt like you were about to pass out with how drained you were, how tired you were of everything.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright, y/n. Just breathe with me, please. We can count together, okay? Just—one… two….” Lo’ak was doing everything in his power to comfort you as you stood there, struggling to regain your composure.

Despite his efforts, though, your sobs were impossible to ignore. They echoed throughout the forest, eventually grabbing the undivided attention of Jake, who had been keeping an eye on some of the other trainees around the corner.

Jake immediately sprinted over to investigate, concern etched across his face. As he approached you and Lo’ak, his wide eyes softened at the sight of you two.

Without uttering a word, Jake gently nudged his head in the direction of Hometree—a silent signal for Lo’ak to get you the hell out of the chaotic environment of the training grounds and take care of you. Jake knew that what you really needed was some peace and quiet to heal.

Following his father’s advice, Lo’ak remained silent as he took your hand in his and began guiding you back toward the refuge of your late family’s tent.

You and Lo’ak never held hands like that—there was never a reason to—but in that instance, it felt natural and comforting.

The warmth of Lo’ak’s touch seemed to spread throughout your entire body, providing an odd sense of comfort despite your emotional distress. As your heart pounded against your chest with each step you took together, it became increasingly clear that the simple yet incredibly meaningful gesture would be forever etched into both of your memories.

Lo’ak guided you through the forest landscape, bathed in the early evening's bioluminescent light, until finally, the view of Hometree dominated the horizon. Silently, carefully, Lo’ak led you along the path to your family's tent.

Lo’ak understood that it wasn’t about physical or even emotional support in just that singular moment—it was about standing beside you as a friend through life’s darkest chapters and refusing to leave you alone in facing such overwhelming shadows. And as much as he could feel the ache gripping every fiber of your being, he knew that together, you could slowly start rebuilding, piece by piece. After all, friends faced the storms together and remained standing side by side when everything else had passed. 

And for the first time since the death of your parents, you felt a sense of safety that you never thought you’d feel again.

As Lo’ak gently led you through the opening of your tent, his comforting grip still holding your hand, you finally understood that your idea of “home” had shifted. It wasn’t bound by the walls of a tent; instead, it was embodied by Lo’ak himself. As long as he was by your side, everything would be okay.

The scene inside your home was etched permanently in your mind—you curled in a ball on the floor beside Lo’ak, your head resting on the makeshift pillow formed from his folded legs. His fingers tenderly brushed through the unkempt wisps of hair near your forehead.

Your eyes fluttered closed, allowing you to concentrate on the soothing sounds around you: the rhythmic sound of Lo’ak’s steady breaths and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as his lungs filled with air and released it back into the quiet world.

You felt his chest expand and contract beneath you, almost seeming to synchronize with your own breathing. The sublime connection created a shared heartbeat between you two in that tranquil space. Time appeared to stand still as silence enveloped the both of you, like Eywa herself was holding her breath to preserve the pure moment of peace.

It was in that quiet instance that you realized how perfectly you fit together—how well he held you, protecting your fragile heart while offering solace and strength in equal measure. Lo’ak’s presence reassured you over and over again: everything was going to be okay.

And likewise, now nestled safely within the circle of Lo’ak’s strong arms beneath the Tree of Souls, you were reminded once more that together, you would be okay.

“I love you,” you whispered against Lo’ak’s skin, almost in a daze, yet every word held immense sincerity. 

You had loved Lo’ak as he comforted you all those years ago, and your love for him had never wavered—it burned just as brightly as it did back then. He was the anchor that tethered you to the world around you, his presence a comforting constant in the ever-changing tides of life. You cherished everything about him, from the gentle warmth that emanated from his touch to the familiarity of his laughter as you would relentlessly tease each other.

There wasn’t a single thing about him you would change—he wouldn’t be Lo’ak if you did.

Your heartfelt confession seemed to catch him completely off guard. It was as if someone had pressed pause on a video on one of Jake’s holo-pads, his entire being coming to a sudden standstill. He pulled away from your embrace, just enough to look down into your eyes. The desperation on his face only grew as he sought some kind of validation, some confirmation that what you said was real, that it wasn’t just some figment of his imagination.

You met his gaze, completely sure of yourself. There was no doubt in your mind regarding the depth of emotion behind those three simple words that had slipped from your lips. There was no trace of embarrassment or regret clouding your expression when you confessed your love for Lo’ak.

He simply stared back at you, wide-eyed and speechless, his gaze searching your face. He was just waiting for you to break out into a smirk, to let out a snort of laughter, to flick him in the forehead and say, “Just kidding, dumbass.” 

But that moment never came. Instead, there you were, open-hearted and genuine, with all the unspoken emotions now laid bare between the two of you, raw and unfiltered.

You watched as Lo’ak’s gaze shifted to the right. You remained clueless as he was captivated by the sudden, enchanting sight of a flurry of woodsprites fluttering closer and closer to the two of you. Their tiny arms reached out, almost as if they were cheering you on, creating an atmosphere of wonder and delight.

Unaware of the spectacle unfolding behind you, your attention was drawn to Lo’ak’s face. Curiously, you tried to decipher his expression. You were kind of expecting him to say he loved you back, not stare gobsmacked above your head.

Lo'ak watched as one by one, the delicate woodsprites began to land on your head with the grace of a feather. The first one settled softly on your crown, followed by another... and another, each seeking its own perch on your head. Soon, at least a dozen of them had landed there, each adding to your iridescent halo that glowed like a luminous headpiece. As the radiant display enveloped you, it only enhanced your beauty further.

The once-overwhelming confusion in your eyes slowly gave way to a dawning look of amazement as you caught sight of the enchanting flurry that had piqued Lo’ak’s interest out of the corner of your eye.

The air was thick with anticipation as you watched the woodsprites gather around the two of you with bated breath. Their movements were graceful and full of energy as they happily flurried around before finally settling on Lo’ak’s shoulders in an almost comically straight line. 

It was impossible to ignore the significance of the incredible moment. 

The tiny seeds that detached themselves from the Tree of Souls were known to carry omens and symbolize sacred moments in one’s life. You knew in your heart that this was Eywa. She was speaking to you, giving you a sign. As always, your father was right.

You glanced over at Lo’ak, curious to see if he was comprehending the gravity of the moment just as much as you were. Sure enough, the expression on his face mirrored your understanding and awe. His stunned gaze flickered from your face to his arms, which were extended out to his sides and covered in dozens of brightly glowing woodsprites. An unspoken understanding passed between the two of you, cementing the mysterious but profound connection shared at that moment.

Just as suddenly as they had arrived, the woodsprites detached themselves from both your bodies and floated away. They retreated gracefully back to their home within the glowing heights of the Tree of Souls. 

You followed their ascent with your eyes, craning your neck to keep them in sight for as long as possible, completely captivated by their presence.

An indescribable wave of joy surged through your body, electrifying and tingling every inch of your being. It was an overwhelming feeling of peace that engulfed you entirely and left a deep sensation of gratitude within your soul.

You were admittedly caught off guard as Lo’ak’s hand gently cradled your cheek. His touch was deliberate yet tender, guiding your face to meet his gaze. As his hand continued its journey, it slid from your shoulder and traveled down your arm before finally intertwining with yours, almost instinctively. A warm smile graced your lips as the feeling of your fingers meshing together felt as natural as the first time you had done so all those years ago.

“I love you too, y/n. So much,” Lo’ak confessed, his words effectively snapping you back to reality. Your smile broadened in response to his heartfelt declaration, trying to contain the overwhelming emotions that filled you from within.

The atmosphere around you was electric with love, and with a playful snort, you couldn’t help but tease: “I think that was Eywa telling us to hurry up.”

At that moment, all of your worries seemed to evaporate. You felt light and carefree and overcome with happiness. You felt so in love. The intensity of emotion that flooded through you needed release. It compelled you to take action.

Reaching out for Lo’ak once more, you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and pulled him close, eliminating any space that separated the two of you. You were living in an idyllic moment, one where time seemed to stand still and nothing else mattered but the love you shared.

For a few moments, you both embraced one another tightly, allowing yourselves to take steady breaths. 

It was almost as if your breathing was synchronized, which caused your mind to drift in curiosity. You wondered if this was what the bond would feel like—like your souls were so intricately woven together that it was nearly impossible to separate the two of you into individual beings.

As those thoughts swirled in your head, you tenderly rubbed your cheek against Lo’ak’s, reveling in his warmth and soaking in every detail of his closeness to you. His unique scent enveloped you—herbal and musky and sweet—further entwining the two of you in an enchanting dance of passion and love. 

The very essence of him consumed your senses, and you felt like you could just forget the world and drown in his intoxicating scent, the tenderness of his touch, and the sheer intimacy of the shared moment.

In response to your affection, Lo’ak released a contented noise that very much resembled that of a soft purr, and you let out a breath of laughter at both the noise and the immediate blush that spread across Lo'ak's face as he tried to play it off. 

Quick to quiet your snickers, Lo’ak let out a quiet “Shh,” but you could feel the corners of his lips against your face as they curled into a smile that mirrored your own happiness.

Feigning innocence while still keeping your voice low and full of tenderness, you replied with a delicate whisper, “I didn’t say anything.”

Like the overgrown child that he is, Lo'ak only squeezed you tighter around the waist and mocked you in an overly high-pitched voice. "I didn't say anything," he parroted. You couldn't even bring yourself to pretend to be annoyed. You were way too proud of how easily you could reduce him to purrs.

You continued showering Lo’ak with your love by alternately brushing your cheek over his and planting a series of little kisses all across his face, effectively shutting him up.

It was as though each kiss held its own message—a reminder that you loved him beyond measure. You wanted him to absorb every ounce of the adoration you poured into those delicate kisses.

Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, exploring the well-known paths that traced the curves and definition of the muscles hidden beneath his skin. The affectionate and almost habitual gesture seemed to serve as a call to action. It was like a spark that ignited an unspoken understanding between the two of you. 

At that moment, you were acutely aware of how desperately you needed Lo’ak, how you longed for him to be even closer to your heart and soul, to be one with your body. 

You told him as much, whispered your desires into the shell of his ear.

As you pulled back to gaze into Lo’ak’s eyes, you immediately noticed his pupils dilated with anticipation, the same way they’d always get whenever you were about to fuck. Without hesitation, Lo’ak wrapped his arms around your middle and drew you toward him, his lips hungrily connecting with yours in a searing kiss. He almost missed your mouth altogether with the intensity with which he sought out your whispered offering.

Your hands tenderly rose upward to cradle the back of Lo’ak’s head as you licked into his mouth, savoring each delicious slide of your tongue against his own. Your tail swung eagerly behind you, unable to hide your mounting excitement. The soft tuft of dark hair at its end seemed to possess a mind of its own as it brushed against Lo’ak’s side—a physical manifestation of the magnetic pull drawing you even closer to him.

You practically drank him in, fully immersed in the intoxicating sensation of your lips fusing with his in a wondrous, familiar rhythm. 

As the gentle breeze danced around you, you willingly let Lo’ak guide you down onto the cushiony grass, your back sinking into its soft embrace. You let him mouth his way down the length of your neck, his warm breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. 

Barely audible, he grumbled into your throat, “Love you,” once more. His voice was heavy with emotion, and the raw sincerity in his voice stirred an overwhelming wave of emotion within you.

Lo’ak’s tender affections continued to unravel the edges of your composure. You felt completely undone. You were sure there was no way that all he had done so far was kiss you. With your eyes closed and your senses heightened, you could feel every tender touch as he grazed his teeth over your pulse point and delicately trailed his fingers up the expanse of your legs as if tracing a map; his touch simultaneously commanding and gentle.

As he let his fingers roam further up your thighs, he paused to appreciate the softness of your skin, gently squeezing the supple flesh before tracing teasing lines along the innermost part of your legs. His thumbs gently brushed against the sensitive skin there, sending tingles throughout your body like electric sparks. Between each lingering touch, your breaths grew shallow in anticipation.

Stubbornly, he maintained a small distance between your bodies, refusing to give in and press up against you even though you were desperate for it. You shamelessly keened for it, tried to push your hips up to meet him. You wanted to feel him inside of you, and judging by the strain against his loincloth, he wanted to be inside you just as badly. But Lo’ak was such a little shit.

He relished taking his sweet time with you, deliberately drawing out each moment as he explored your body, teasing you for so long until you were nothing but a pliant wreck under his touch. He always prioritized your pleasure above everything else, which was simultaneously frustrating and endearing.

Lo’ak continued working his tantalizing magic on your skin, his fingers hovering so close, yet never quite reaching the spot where you so desperately needed him. It was maddening and exhilarating how meticulous he could be. The dance between agony and ecstasy left every part of you desperate for more. You wanted to scream in frustration.

Attempting to gather your resolve, you meant to firmly call out “Lo’ak,” but instead, it escaped your lips as more of an anguished, pleading moan.

Lo’ak didn’t seem to mind at all, only humming in response as he continued his passionate onslaught. Leaving a fiery trail of burning kisses, he started at your throat and made his way down your collarbone, stopping to linger at your sternum before continuing his journey over the fabric covering your chest. And you immediately came to the conclusion that the extra barrier of material just wouldn’t do.

You swiftly sat up to remove your top, so suddenly that you almost smashed Lo’ak in the face with your elbow in the process. But with your chest now bare to him, you decided that you might as well kill two birds with one stone.

Efficiently eliminating the need for any further interruptions, you hastily reached down and loosened the knot holding up your loincloth just enough for you to slide it over your hips and down past your legs, mindlessly tossing the garment to the side amidst the tall blades of grass. You were sure that you were going to have to spend an embarrassing amount of time trying to find it once all was said and done, and Lo'ak was definitely going to laugh at you the entire time and not help you look for it, but that was the last thing on your mind at that moment.

No matter how many times Lo’ak had seen you in that state of undress before, his astonishment and awe remained fresh and unperturbed each time. He had the same awestruck reaction, his eyes wide in admiration as if he were beholding some rare and precious treasure. Lo’ak’s face revealed a myriad of emotions as his eyes traveled over every inch of your frame, the corners of his mouth curving into a small, affectionate grin. 

You found yourself rolling your eyes at his display, all while secretly delighting in how he never failed to worship your body without reservation. His presence had a unique way of making you feel at ease, even in your most vulnerable state.

Taking his time, Lo’ak’s gaze didn’t meet yours until he had thoroughly feasted upon the sight before him. 

His soft voice whispered into the air, “You’re so beautiful.” Then, with renewed determination, he resumed his quest to leave you completely breathless and speechless, planting tender kisses against your now-bare chest.

His hands meandered their way back to the curve of your waist, securing your writhing form to the ground as if to ensure you couldn’t escape from the captivating hold he had on you. With heightened anticipation and growing desire, Lo’ak slowly roamed his hands upward to trace the delicate curves of your breasts.

Lo’ak somehow intertwined the perfect balance of fervor and tenderness in each of his actions while meticulously extinguishing any ability for words or coherent thought. It was like straight-up mush in your brain. You were swept up in the whirlwind of sensation that he created with such exquisite attention to detail, every touch enhancing the emotional connection between you. 

It was in these moments where time seemed to slow down and reality faded away, that Lo’ak awakened a deeper connection within your soul—one built on trust, admiration, and an ineffable love that left you completely at a loss for words.

“So fucking perfect,” Lo’ak murmured, allowing the gentle pressure of his thumbs to glide across your sensitive nipples, already hardened into little buds from all the ongoing stimuli.

You let out a soft moan in response to Lo’ak’s continual praise, which seemed to envelop you like a warm, comforting ray of light. There was no doubt in your mind that you trusted Lo’ak with all your heart. He always knew how to make you feel so good every single time, without fail.

And as he began his tantalizing journey of sweet kisses, starting at your chest and gradually trailing lower and lower along the trembling lines of your stomach, you felt an exhilarating anticipation building within you. 

He made his way down to your already-wet center, and all you could do was sink your head further into the ground beneath you, exhaling his name in a breathy whisper.

The sensation of Lo’ak’s delicate touch combined with the warmth of his breath gently sweeping over your core caused a shiver to resonate throughout your entire being. He gently spread your legs apart even further, comfortably positioning himself between them before diving in without any hesitation.

Lo'ak knew exactly how to reduce you to moans, and this time was no different. He shamelessly loved eating you out. His enthusiasm for doing so became apparent from the very first time you let him go down on you. You figured it must’ve been fate because, as much as the boy loved to talk, he transformed into something utterly irresistible whenever his mouth descended upon you—each tantalizing lick into your wetness and gentle prod of his tongue at your entrance made you feel like you were going to lose your mind.

He loved the way you’d go all soft under his touch, practically melting beneath his skilled tonguework. He reveled in the sensation of your legs wrapping around him, curling over his shoulders as your ankles crossed snugly behind his neck, the way your thighs tightened around his head each time he circled his tongue around your clit. Your body couldn’t help but respond to his every touch.

Lo’ak loved the noises you made. It was as if you were unable to contain yourself or the stream of moans and curses that would slip past your lips, bitten red from trying (and always failing) to keep quiet.

He especially loved it when, seemingly without realizing it, you’d reach out and bury your fingers within his braids, grinding yourself against his face because you couldn’t stand how teasingly slow he was going.

The first time Lo’ak went down on you, all it took was a few mindless ruts against the soft forest floor before he was groaning into your wetness, coming in powerful spurts inside his loincloth—all without being touched.

And now, as Lo’ak enveloped you once again in his teasing embrace, skillfully flicking his tongue in a wet stripe up your center before zeroing in on the sensitive nub at your front, you felt as entirely blissed out as he did during that first time.

As Lo’ak continued his deliciously tormenting work, exploring every contour with practiced devotion, you found yourself powerless against the rising tide of euphoria.

He’d barely been at it for more than a minute or two before you could sense the rising tension within your core and the trembling of your legs—telltale signs of your impending climax.

But you didn’t want to finish like that. Given the tender, emotional exchange of words you’d experienced together for the first time, you wanted to finish as one, harmoniously intertwined in a mutual dance of ecstasy.

You needed Lo’ak inside of you, so close that he could never leave, so deeply intertwined with you that it would be impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. It wasn’t merely about physical closeness; it was about forging a new kind of bond with Lo'ak.

To make Tsaheylu was to embrace a wholly different plane of affection. It was all-consuming and intense. The very idea of forming that neural connection with Lo'ak—sharing in his experiences and emotions, savoring every conceivable sensation together—left your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

As soon as that thought took shape in your mind, there was no turning back. You had set your heart on truly becoming one with Lo’ak—inseparable and forever bound together by love, entwining your lives like the intricate patterns woven into a delicate tapestry.

“Mmm, Lo’ak,” you called out tentatively, your voice wobbly from both the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body and the mere thought of finally making the bond with Lo’ak. 

However, Lo’ak seemed to interpret your call of his name as a sign of your continued pleasure, which wasn't entirely false.

He practically doubled his efforts as he increased the intensity with which he went down on you, slurping loudly and adding a finger that tenderly brushed against your clenching hole.

Your reaction was instinctive—a barely audible curse slipping past your lips as you inhaled sharply, just barely catching yourself before losing control completely. Frantically, you reached out and tugged on Lo’ak’s braids, using them as an anchor in a desperate attempt to draw him away from the dizzying height of ecstasy that threatened to consume you.

His yellow eyes grew wide in confusion as they darted over your face in search of some explanation for the sudden interruption. Finding yourself at a loss for words due to the intensity of his unwavering gaze, you struggled to articulate your thoughts.

Your heart thundered in your chest, pounding against your ribcage as you nervously contemplated the words about to leave your lips. 

Taking a deep breath, you began hesitantly, “I want us to finish together.”

You gently let your hand run down the back of Lo’ak’s head, continuing its path until it reached his arm. You tugged him closer to you until he had you caged beneath him, both of his arms planted firmly on the ground beside your head like a protective barrier.

Lo’ak’s face lit up with a radiant smile at your words. However, he was completely unprepared for what you would say next.

“Through Tsaheylu. Together,” you whispered almost inaudibly.

Your voice was so soft that one could easily have missed it, but Lo’ak’s eyes widened as if they were attempting to absorb the entirety of your statement. He had heard every single word loud and clear, and there was no doubt that he understood the significance of what you just proposed.

Lo’ak nodded emphatically, his chest rapidly rising and falling as his eyes wandered over your face, trying to determine for the second time that day whether this was reality or a dream.

“Yeah? You really want to?” He asked, his eyes filled with curiosity and hope, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

His hand tenderly reached out to brush away a stray strand of hair from your flushed face before gently cradling your jaw in a caring and familiar gesture of love. You mirrored his nod in response, silently conveying your mutual feelings and desires. At that moment, there was nothing else in the world that you wanted more than to make Tsaheylu with Lo’ak right there and then.

The atmosphere between the two of you was electric and palpable. A mixture of anticipation, passion, and unwavering trust laced the air.

Lo’ak leaned in closer, slowly bringing his face down to yours. Your lips met in a soft embrace—an innocent yet intoxicating kiss that was worlds apart from your previous messy and heated exchange. It was a testament to the deepening connection between the two of you, one filled with unspoken love, desire, and trust.

The emotions stirred by the simple act swirled around you like an invisible current, further cementing the bond that had formed throughout your time together. As Lo’ak’s lips gently brushed against yours, it seemed as though time had slowed down. There was no rush; no urgency had come into play when everything felt so perfectly crafted for the scene at hand.

The moment was intense, almost palpable, as you felt like your heart was on the verge of bursting when Lo’ak pulled back from your entwined lips, only to reach behind him and retrieve his braided queue. He swiftly pulled it over his shoulder, and as he held it up between the two of you, the dark hairs at the tip cascaded gracefully to the side, revealing the delicate pink tendrils that seemed to dance in anticipation.

You had seen Lo’ak do it countless times before—when he’d mount his ikran, when he’d ride the direhorses, when he’d connect to the Tree of Souls. Despite the familiarity, you found yourself marveling at the mesmerizing sight. This time was different, and the significance of what was about to happen hit you like a bucket of cold water.

By connecting in mind and spirit, Lo’ak would share all that he was with you—each memory enlivened with vibrant detail; every emotion given depth and nuance; all senses heightened and magnified beyond any experience you could have ever imagined.

And now the moment had finally arrived, the pivotal point in your relationship where you and Lo’ak were about to link queues and become one, mated for life.

With that thought in mind, you quickly shifted, momentarily lifting your back from the ground so you could seize hold of your queue.

Your hand shook with nervous excitement as you reached it out towards Lo’ak’s, your entire being ablaze with anticipation. You couldn’t help but wonder what the connection would feel like, how the essence of another living, breathing person would seep into the very depths of your soul.

As the tendrils of your queue edged closer to Lo’ak’s, they finally intertwined, sending an almost electric jolt through every fiber of your being. 

You could feel the presence of another living, breathing entity residing deep within your soul, as though you had welcomed in a part of yourself that had been missing all along. It was as if every fiber of your being was united with his in a timeless bond.

You hadn’t even realized that your eyes had fluttered closed.

When you finally opened them again and let reality return, the first thing you sought was Lo’ak’s gaze. 

And there he was, staring intensely at you, his dark pupils dilated wide in awe and wonder. His breath was shaky as it fanned across your face, a shared acknowledgment of the incredible experience that had just unfolded between you two.

The sensation was beyond anything you’d ever experienced before.

You could feel everything. Every single thing. The pounding of his heart seemed to reverberate within your very being, its rhythm unmistakable and powerful. It was as if every breath he took inhaled a part of you, and each exhale released a warmth that spread throughout your entire body, all in perfect sync.

And it wasn’t just his physical presence that became entwined with yours. His thoughts raced within your mind. The shared experiences birthed a flurry of emotions—pure love, affection, and desire—that poured into you. It was as if you could experience the entire spectrum of his emotions all at once.

The pleasure coursing through him fueled your own tenfold, creating an indescribable sensation that beckoned from deep within your soul. It was a pulsing, throbbing need centered between your legs, more powerful than anything you’d experienced even during the peak of your heat cycle.

Driven by instinct and a primal need for release, you wrapped your legs around Lo’ak’s waist, seeking any form of friction available to ease the mounting pressure. 

And though you knew damn well it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy either of you completely, even that slightest contact seemed to amplify everything happening between the two of you.

Almost as if orchestrated by fate, you both found yourselves moaning in unison at the feeling of sheer pleasure from the brief contact, a guttural sound born from the depths of pure ecstasy. The sensation was so intense and all-consuming that it almost knocked the air from your lungs.

“Shit, y/n,” Lo’ak groaned, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he tried to hold himself together. He firmly gripped your waist for support while you both struggled to catch your breath.

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of your combined labored breathing filling the air, mingling together and growing progressively louder as you continued to grind yourself against Lo’ak’s clothed front. You could feel how hard he was with each press of his length against your soaked core. 

“Get this thing off,” you mumbled, blindly searching with your hands to get a grip on his loincloth, because why was he still clothed and not splitting you in half at that very moment?

Lo’ak understood your urgency and quickly moved to get rid of the garment in question. He untied the knot from around his waist with haste, allowing his loincloth to drop unceremoniously to the floor beneath him and finally expose his throbbing length.

The sight before you was mesmerizing. His cock seemed to sway in front of your eyes, as if calling out to you. It was already so full, the tip dark and leaking a steady trickle of precum.

Without hesitation, Lo’ak gently nudged your legs further apart using his knees, leaving you completely exposed to him once again. He firmly gripped himself, unable to resist the urge to slowly buck his hips into his clenched fist. 

Your head, which had been lifted off the ground so you could fully appreciate Lo’ak in all his unclothed glory, abruptly fell back to the ground with a loud and what should’ve definitely been a painful thud. However, the sensation of pain didn’t even register in your mind.

You were entirely consumed by the incredible pleasure coursing through Lo’ak’s body, a pleasure that rippled throughout your being through the bond with such an overwhelming intensity that it elicited a broken moan from your lips.

Breathlessly, you began to speak, “Oh my...” but the words were cut off by the sudden feeling of Lo’ak’s tip brushing teasingly against your swollen nub of nerves, tracing a tantalizing path from your clit along your slickened folds, and pushing you closer to the brink of insanity.

The anticipation continued to build, stretching out the moment and making it seem like an eternity as you both danced on the precipice of pleasure—every touch, every whispered word drawing you further in while heightening the emotional connection between you two.

Lo’ak leaned down to his favorite spot: the tiny, delicate jut where your neck met your shoulder. He sucked a bruising kiss into your skin, all the while continuing the slow, borderline sadistic slide of his cockhead against your front.

With each tantalizing nudge, his grunts echoed against the soft flesh of your neck, reverberating throughout your body. 

Desperate for more, you managed to gasp breathlessly through the haze of pleasure. “Inside, Lo’ak. Please, I need you.”

At last, it seemed as though your plea had broken through to him.

Lo’ak seemed to snap back into focus from his euphoric daze, finally pulling away from your neck. Licking his lips in anticipation, he nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah. Need you too,” he rasped out.

His gaze flickered between your flushed face and the spot between your legs where he’d been teasing you mercilessly, back and forth, as if he couldn’t get enough of observing every tiny movement you made. His rapt attention seemed to hang on your every labored breath, each moan and whimper that escaped your lips.

Finally, Lo’ak cautiously started to make his way inside of you.

Your eyes clamped shut as your forehead crinkled in reaction to the familiar yet still startling stretch. 

You mentally chastised yourself for every time you’d obliviously joked about how small he probably was, how his extra finger probably only existed to compensate for what he was lacking in other areas. Your smug ignorance seemed laughable now, as it was clear that your prior words were wholly mistaken.

He was anything but small. His size was, by all accounts, definitely more than substantial. That much was evident, as reiterated by the burning stretch of your walls each time Lo’ak would initially sink into you. You probably would never get used to it.

Lo'ak could’ve been annoyingly conceited about it. He could’ve laughed at the look on your face and made you endure the full brunt of his size all at once, because that was honestly what you deserved. It would’ve been a taste of your own medicine considering the past teases you’d ignorantly thrown his way. 

But, despite it all, he didn’t.

He was always so soft, so gentle about it, handling the situation delicately and never failing to check in on your well-being—just as he was doing now.

“You okay? You have to tell me if it’s too much,” he said softly, his thumb gently brushing across the inside of your thigh. His eyes darted across your face, searching every inch for any hint of discomfort.

Despite the uncertainty in his words, you were sure that he could feel the extent of your pleasure. Through your neural connection, he definitely had to have known how much you liked it when he stretched you open.

With some effort, you peeled your eyes open, staring up at Lo’ak with a half-lidded look of languid satisfaction. Your head shook from side to side as a contented grin formed on your lips. 

“No,” came the breathy reply, “it’s so good. Love how full you make me feel.”

And with that, you pushed yourself even further onto Lo’ak's length, continuing until you felt no space left between you; his hips pressed snugly against your front. The sensation of him being completely inside of you filled your heart with joy, and a gentle nudge against your cervix confirmed that he was deeply connected to you in every way imaginable.

Lo’ak pressed his chest against yours, allowing the warmth of your bodies to merge as one. His forehead tenderly touched yours, and you both closed your eyes, fully immersed in the moment.

Time seemed to stand still as you both indulged in the bliss of being as close as possible, physically and emotionally connected like never before. It was a sensation that could never truly be captured in words.

Lo’ak moved ever so slightly from your intimate embrace, pulling out only to ease himself back into you purposefully. It was as if he were guiding you on a journey to another world, one where the two of you floated seamlessly through space and time.

He fucked you slow and sweet with tiny, measured thrusts that mirrored the tempo of your heartbeats, synchronized by the undeniable connection between you. The mutual dance of love continued with deliberate grace as Lo’ak led the way with his gentle and controlled movements. It was that intense physical expression of love that made it impossible to break from the embrace. 

Your lips languidly grazed against each other's—just mere whispers of breathy, open-mouthed kisses that tasted like love itself.

As your intimacy built to a crescendo, so did your readiness to accommodate him completely. You were so wet, and you welcomed each gentle slide of his cock with ease, your bodies effortlessly melding together as one. You lovingly opened up for him, enveloping him whole with passion and tenderness.

It wasn’t hard and fast like you sometimes inevitably went at it with each other. Those instances took place hastily, either in between grueling training sessions or hidden in quiet corners of Hometree late at night. In those fleeting moments, you were constantly on high alert and trying to keep quiet. Every breath carried a sense of urgency and anticipation, as if someone might discover your intimate secret at any second.

However, things were different now. There was no sense of urgency. There were no watchful eyes, no impending duties or responsibilities that you’d had to run off to.

It was just you and Lo’ak, connected in the deepest manner conceivable—physically and emotionally united in the most intimate way possible.

As you lay there together in that beautiful moment, Lo’ak continued to whisper tender words of appreciation that seemed to make their way up your spine like tiny sparks, sending shivers of pure bliss up your spine. It felt as if his gentle, breathy little praises had some kind of magical property, tracing the path along your neural whip and leaving sparks of sensitivity all throughout your body.

He continued to fervently whisper sweet praises—"just like that" and “so good, y/n”, and each one made you feel even more entranced by the newfound connection you shared. You were convinced that his voice alone had the power to make you surrender completely and melt into the floor beneath you.

You were at a loss, unsure of what to do with your hands. They stretched aimlessly above your head, with your fingers absentmindedly plucking and tearing blades of grass from the ground beneath you. 

You finally reached out toward Lo’ak, hooking your arms beneath his and clutching at his back as if attempting to anchor yourself into some semblance of reality. His movements seemed to cut through you, each thrust driving a wedge deep within your core that further solidified the bond shared between the two of you.

“I love you so much,” Lo’ak murmured into your mouth, his grip on your waist growing stronger to emphasize the undeniable sincerity behind his words. He continued, almost manic in his declaration, “Fuck, I love you. You have no idea.”

His voice was low and throaty, and you could only respond with a moan of unconditional agreement. It felt as though once he had uttered those three powerful words, it was no longer enough for him to simply think or feel the intensity of his love for you—he had to say it aloud, over and over again.

It wasn’t as if the two of you had been deliberately or even knowingly avoiding saying those words until now.

You obviously loved each other and were obviously in love with each other for as long as you could remember. However, your journey began as best friends and remained that way for such a long time that you didn’t really know how to approach the affectionate verbal confession until now. It was as if uttering those special words might somehow disturb the delicate balance between friendship and romantic love that the two of you had maintained almost effortlessly for so long.

Sure, physical affection was something you’d grown comfortable with. The intimacy of sex with Lo’ak was electric, and it left you both breathless. Nonetheless, the foundation of friendship you had built over the years remained strong and unwavering. 

The very fact that you were not only lovers but also best friends added an intricate layer of complexity to your still-new relationship. It was exciting yet puzzling at the same time, figuring out how to balance your undeniable love for one another with the familiarity that came with years of close-knit friendship.

At times, you both found yourselves grappling with the delicate balance between foolhardy banter and serious talk about your relationship.

You’d often resort to flustered, stuttering wrecks whenever anyone around you would steer your conversation toward topics like mating or raising children together. It was clear that both of you deeply desired those things, but figuring out how to effectively communicate your feelings and intentions was still a work in progress.

And in all those months since you'd been courting, you just hadn’t yet learned how to express your affection for one another in its purest, verbal form.

Sure, Lo’ak would often share the things that he loved about you: “I love your eyes...”; “I love how much you care about everyone around you, even though you pretend like you don’t...”; “I love the way you look on top of me...”—yet despite all the passionate declarations, the simple utterance of those three potent words remained an unspoken truth between the two of you.

It was just another one of those things that the two of you danced around until one of you was bold enough to face it head-on. And it definitely hadn’t been the first time, as you recalled how you’d skirted around your feelings for each other for years before finally admitting them to each other only a few months ago.

That was precisely why the phrase “I love you” carried such monumental weight each time it escaped from Lo’ak’s lips right in front of you.

Those three little words felt like a sacred hymn that touched your very soul. You savored every syllable, allowing his tender words to envelop you, allowing his warm breath to caress your lips—just a hair’s breadth apart from his.

You could practically feel the warmth of his love emanating from every touch, each caress sending shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, the heat in your core intensified, amplified by a heady concoction of love and lust. You became increasingly aware that you weren’t going to be able to last much longer. It was all so intense.

Yet even amidst the whirlwind of raw emotion and overwhelming passion, you found yourself wishing that the breathtaking moment could stretch on into infinity. The connection shared between you and Lo’ak was so powerful and awe-inspiring that the thought of it ending seemed unfathomable.

“Fuckfuckfuck Lo'ak, I’m gonna—” You barely choked out the warning, your words probably indecipherable as your entire world seemed to blur and your vision whited out around the edges. Your body went rigid, your walls clenching around Lo’ak so tight in a series of spasms that left him stuttering his thrusts to a halt.

He threw his head back in a deep moan and held onto every last bit of control he had left, trying his best not to spill inside of you in that overwhelming moment. Despite the literal death grip you had on him, he managed to hold on for just a bit longer.

Through it all, Lo'ak covered your face in soft, tender kisses as a wave of pleasure washed over you. Your body felt light and blissfully exhausted under Lo’ak’s tender and unrelenting affection. You felt utterly spent under his unwavering care.

As your high finally started to subside, all that remained was a lingering, trembling sensation running through your body. 

Lying there with Lo’ak still fully enveloped around and within you, all you could do was weakly reach up and run a shaky hand through his braids, holding him close to you until you slowly came back to your senses.

In the aftermath of your intense orgasm, you could unmistakably sense the desire emanating from every fiber of Lo’ak’s being through your bond. He was holding himself back, trying to stabilize his frantic heartbeat.

Both of you had mutually (and flusteredly) agreed that you weren’t ready for children anytime soon, both still young and wanting to take your time with one another. You wanted to cherish every moment with Lo'ak in the honeymoon-like phase of your relationship for a few more precious years before even entertaining the thought of building a rambunctious herd of little kids.

With that mutual agreement in mind, you gingerly unfurled your legs from Lo’ak’s waist, keenly observing his every move as he painstakingly pulled out of your tight wetness.

With a final obscene popping sound, he finally withdrew completely, firmly gripping the base of his slickened shaft. His eyes squeezed shut, his head hung low, and his breath escaped in shallow puffs of air.

You propped yourself up on one elbow, reaching out with your free arm to swat Lo’ak’s hand away and get him off yourself. As your fingers curled around his length, a look of determination crossed your face.

Lo’ak leaned into the sensation of your tight grip, letting out a deep moan as he instinctively thrust into your fist to meet each of your pumps. 

You relished in the way Lo’ak went pliant under your fingers—his arms hanging limp at his sides and his head thrown back in overwhelming pleasure from just your slightest touch.

You sat up fully, instinctively steadying yourself with a firm grip on Lo’ak’s hip. You delicately brought your mouth to him, licking a wet line all along the length of his shaft, leisurely starting from the base and gliding up to the tip. 

The sudden sensation caught Lo’ak completely off guard, his eyes snapping open in surprise to just barely catch the sight of you taking the swollen head of his cock between your lips.

As you did so, your other hand moved in perfect synchrony, gripping and pumping at the base of his shaft. Your head skillfully bobbed up and down in a leisurely dance of pleasure as you took him deeper into your mouth.

The entire ordeal created a messy symphony of sound: a concoction of your own slick arousal, saliva, and his leaking precum forming an unmistakable wetness. But much to your delight, you loved every moment of the sensory overload—almost as much as you loved watching Lo’ak slowly fall apart above you.

Taking your time (as well as revenge for how cruelly slow Lo'ak had teased you earlier), you gently slid your mouth off his head with a wet, satisfying pop. As your hand continued to lazily fist his shaft, your eyes were completely captivated by his reactions, as if you were privy to a secret performance just for you.

He looked the same way he always did when you sucked him off—all disheveled, his cheeks flushed with passion and a series of low moans escaping his throat—and you loved it so much.

But even more so, you loved the intimate connection that allowed you to feel every emotion coursing through him: the boundless love, the fiery desire coursing through his veins, and the growing anticipation toward his climax. It was an exhilarating experience. It made you want to be the one to make him lose himself completely, just as he had done for you moments ago.

With purposeful intent, you guided Lo’ak back into your eager mouth, sending subtle vibrations coursing through his body by gently humming around his length and eliciting yet another groan from him. 

Carefully meeting each of his responses with enthusiasm and skill, you took him deeper and deeper into your mouth. Your movements became bolder, taking nearly all of him until he grazed the back of your throat before gradually sliding back up once more.

You repeated that motion once, then twice, before you heard Lo’ak calling out your name, desperately warning you that he was about to come.

You couldn’t help but smile when you felt Lo’ak twitch in your mouth. It was a familiar sign that he was about to spill every last drop of himself down your throat.

Lo’ak’s fingers gently found their way through your hair as he released a deep, guttural groan. He watched you through half-closed eyes as he came in sharp bursts into your eagerly awaiting mouth. 

Your enthusiasm was unrestrained as you swallowed around him, hungrily capturing every last drop of him. You practically sucked Lo’ak raw, leaving him gasping and whimpering from the overstimulation.

Eventually, you decided to show him some mercy as you slowly trailed your lips upward along his overly-sensitive shaft. Gently, you placed a tiny kiss on his tip, grinning like a madwoman at how Lo’ak’s eyes squeezed tightly shut, his abdominal muscles tensing in response to the sensitivity of your touch. 

With his eyes still shut, Lo’ak shook his head in disbelief, marveling at the power of your loving touch. 

It was so much more than just physical contact.

Tsaheylu made everything feel a million times more powerful, more intense. You couldn't help but feel a little light-headed from the sheer perfection of it all, almost as if you were floating.

Without any hesitation, you grabbed hold of Lo'ak's arm and pulled him down to the ground until both of you lay side-by-side, face-to-face, basking in the blissful afterglow of your shared intimacy.

You hooked a leg over Lo'ak's side, drawing him even closer to your body. He responded with his own lingering touch, his hand confidently yet gently cradling your thigh as if it were second nature. It was a simple act of intimacy that somehow felt like so much more.

As you lay there in that tender embrace, your heartbeats synced as if they were dancing to the same rhythm. Soft smiles spread across your faces, and everything around you seemed to blur out of focus. It was just the two of you at that moment, wrapped up in the delicate threads of the bond that interwove between each of your shared glances.

Though your communications were mostly unspoken in that moment, it didn't matter. The way your eyes locked together and the raw emotion displayed on your faces told an entire story on their own—one of love, trust, and vulnerability. It was a conversation without words that could be understood by anyone who had ever experienced connection as powerful as Tsaheylu.

Your chest tightened at the undeniable joy that illuminated Lo'ak's face. His eyes sparkled with pure elation, and you were sure your face mirrored the exact same expression.

You were one—mated for life—and you couldn’t be happier.

The concept of time seemed to vanish into thin air as you remained entwined, reveling in the unmatched closeness. The intimate connection enveloped you like a warm blanket.

Lo'ak's voice came as a welcome interruption to the tranquility of the moment.

"Can I say it again?” 

Completely spent and practically half-asleep nestled within Lo'ak's arms, you could only muster a faint 'hmm?' in response to his question. You closed your eyes and burrowed yourself further into his embrace. He was so warm.

You felt the soft vibrations of Lo'ak's laughter within your body, resonating deep within your chest. He was well aware of how you would always go all quiet and soft after sex. He also knew that you would drift off to sleep right there in the middle of the forest, completely bare, if he let you. He wasn’t going to let you.

"That I love you," he murmured, reaching out to tuck your hair back in place behind your ear. His fingers continued their journey to the nape of your neck, where they lovingly grazed the wispy hairs there. His touch was unimaginably delicate and tender; it was almost unbearable.

"Are you planning to ask for my permission every single time you want to say it?" You asked sleepily, the corners of your mouth lifting into a smile at the thought. You knew deep down that he would actually do it, and his response only solidified your conviction.

"If you want me to," he replied genuinely, his voice almost a whisper.

You opened your eyes, only to roll them at the earnest expression painted across his face, despite the way his words made your heart flutter. He was so endearing, so fucking adorable, you wanted to tease him for it. To be honest, you couldn't pinpoint when the shift happened—the moment he evolved from your foolhardy best friend into the still foolhardy, but also tender-hearted and affectionate man laid out before you.

"You don't have to," you began softly, stretching out your arm to take hold of Lo'ak's hand.

Slowly, you guided his hand towards yourself, pressing his open palm directly over your chest. Right over the rhythmic beat of your heart.

"I can feel it. In here," you whispered to him, making sure to emphasize the sincerity of your words by giving his hand a gentle yet meaningful squeeze. For a few seconds, the two of you remained like that. Silent, the only sound being that of your racing heartbeats.

Love—the breathtakingly powerful emotion—washed over you like a tidal wave as you lay there, your heart racing in your chest. Your heart beat with a fervor that mirrored the intensity of your mutual affection. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. The love was a beautifully combined force; it belonged to both you and Lo'ak equally. 

The love vibrated deep within you. It surrounded you with its warmth and energy. It felt as if every fiber of your being was completely saturated with the incredible emotion, connecting the two of you with an undeniable bond. You were so deeply in love, and you knew Lo'ak could feel it just as strongly through every frantic beat of your heart.

As your hand gradually loosened its grip on Lo'ak's, his own fingers remained unwaveringly pressed against your chest, right above your heart. He seemed entranced, as though attempting to imprint every pulsating beat and the faintest echo of your heart beneath his palm into his memory. Time seemed to slow, as if granting him the chance to capture every minute detail.

He devoured every intricate aspect, each subtle expression that adorned you. And as Lo'ak gazed upon you with the warmest, most affectionate eyes, a tender smile of pure adoration spread softly across his lips. His entire demeanor conveyed a simple yet profound message—one that spoke of love and devotion beyond anything imaginable.

“You know I’m still gonna say it,” Lo’ak declared with a wide, boyish grin. “Every single day, for the rest of my life.” 

The warmth that filled the air between you intensified as his grip on your waist tightened, drawing you closer to him as if trying to physically absorb the moment. His lips brushed against your temple in a slow, lingering kiss that seemed to carry the weight of his vow.

He meant what he said, and you knew that without a doubt. 

You reveled in the feeling of his breath on your skin and the steady heartbeat that echoed against your chest. The simple pleasure was enough to make you giddy with happiness about the prospect of your future together.

As if reading your thoughts, Lo’ak squeezed you gently and whispered those cherished words into your ear over and over again, like a promise. 

end

Taglist <3:

@vanillawhale, @strawberryclouds22, @countryandsweetbabygirl, @kurogxrix, @yunonaneko, @ahsatan785, @lauratstrange, @lwesodra, @kaealowri, @starboyloak, @thefirst-ofus

Previously: Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V, Chapter VI

#teyamskxawng #teyamskxawng’s fics #lo'ak x reader #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak smut #lo'ak smut #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2022 #atwow #lo'ak x y/n #lo’ak x y/n #lo'ak sully #lo’ak #lo'ak fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar fic

[qqueenofhades]

i know you've talked about this before but i just saw someone say obama had 59 senate seats and a 78 house seat majority and he "could've done anything" and i can't. when did peoples' collective memory get so shit? i was in middle school for most of his presidency and even i knew back then how hostile the republicans were to him. what is this revisionist history people are insistent on engaging in like i just don't get it. it's so easy to look back from where we are now and act like people back then didn't try hard enough and it's infuriating

"Obama could have done anything." Sure, when he came into office in the middle of a global economic meltdown and somewhat understandably, put that first, even when the Republicans had already declared their firm intention, in the middle of said financial emergency, not to work with him ever on anything and to make him a one-term president. And yet, still got the $787 billion stimulus through (which at the time was just an Absurd level of Government Spending Oh Noes!!!) and in fact managed to stop things from getting even worse.

"Obama could have done anything." Sure, for the first half of his first term where he had full control of Congress (4 months with 60 seats) and aside from said minor economic problem, was also trying to get the Affordable Care Act done. After 2010 he lost the House; after 2014 he lost the Senate. There are plenty of critiques to be made with the benefit of hindsight about how the Democrats did or did not push to change the procedural rules (something they still can't do now with a much smaller majority and Joe Fucking Manchin reliably on hand to torpedo it), or how they did or did not campaign on the ACA, or how they got punished for it, or how Obama's political inexperience and knowledge that the Republicans were going to crucify him but he still tried to work with them did or did not play into it. The point is, to act like he had those whopping majorities for his entire two terms (and that they automatically just did whatever he said, thanks to his magic mind-control powers) is nonsense.

"Obama could have done anything." As the first African-American president who faced ungodly levels of hate, racism, paranoia, personal attacks, personal attacks on his family, attempts to prove he "wasn't American," Tea Party conspiracies, and Christ knows what else, all while he had to not put a single foot wrong in any scandal, no matter how minor, for eight years. (Which he did!) If only Obama had KNOWN that he could have just done anything and this would totally happen and be fine and never be subject to legal challenges or anything! The Republicans haven't spent a decade since trying to destroy the ACA or anything like that, not ever. Why didn't he use his psychic powers to peer into the future and realize that Roe, universally regarded as settled law, was going to be overturned thanks to an orange maniac and a dark-money federalist judiciary effort! Why didn't he predict that American white fragility was going to backlash in the form of Trump and just never run for president at all? HIS FAULT! THANKS, OBAMA!

"Obama could have done anything." Because he was a wizard, because the Democratic Party and the country was exactly the same 15 years ago, because 2008 was completely identical to 2023 in its social priorities, political issues, cultural beliefs, and other material, and because we can happily act as if Trump never existed, his effect on the American social, political, and racial zeitgeist never existed, because everything is Obama/the Democrats' fault somehow for Not Doing Enough, and nothing to do with anything else, ever. Clearly nothing to do with these fuckwits and their chucklefuck revisionist purity ideology and deliberate refusal to learn or accept anything that contradicts that, i.e. basic reality and history. Nosirreebob.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

[hater-reads]

Haunting Echoes of the Past CHAPTER 2 - Through Gojo's eyes.

Suguru and I spent 4 summers together. After graduating from high school, we decided to move in together. We were never close to our families; we were practically raising ourselves. I was the one who suggested it, and Suguru agreed immediately. The money was never a problem for me, I didn't have a family nor a home, but the elders of the clan made sure I was receiving something from them. Suguru wanted to work instead of using that dirty money, but I told him it would only complicate things, and we could be comfortable with that money, sooner or later I'd be useful for them, so this was their way of convincing me.

Our home days were wonderful. We'd kiss at every opportunity, as if in that moment we were the only ones left in the world. Suguru was everything for me. We never said the words "date" or "boyfriend", we didn't need them. I got used to his touch, to his lips, to his long black hair, to the curve of his eyes when he laughed, to his gently smile, his soft words, the way he called my name. Suguru changed his personality, and I changed mine, without noticing, we made each other better. He laughed and was nothing like the gloomy child he used to be back when I met him, I stopped wanting to hurt him, I would probably hurt myself instead.

I recognized the instinct that was part of myself could be hidden, lock in a cage where it would never go out again. I had angry issues that no one told me about when I was younger, Suguru was the first one that decided to help me with that, even when I hurt him when we met because of that. I was becoming a better person, because the one I cared about, my one and only, was there for me. Was living with me, was waking up with me in the same bed. And the first thing I'd see when I opened my eyes, was Suguru's sleeping face, with his beautiful hair falling down, part of it in his face. I developed the habit of tucking his hair behind his ears while grabbing one end with my fingers and then kissing it with my lips.

Suddenly, I was woken up of this dream. I was close to turning 20. Which meant things were going to change for me. The Gojo Clan had its own fucked up traditions, and my part was following their commands. The days of youth were over. Without Suguru noticing, I visited the clan in the old mansion full of luxuries and wasted money they had. I knew what was coming for me, for us. And I didn't want to face it. Didn't want to accept a reality in which Suguru and I couldn't be together. The truth is that I was a coward, and revealing myself against the Clan would be more dangerous than anything I could have imagined. To carry on the legacy of being someone with the Gojo surname would mean marrying a distant relative, having a progenitor, becoming an owner of one of the corrupt companies they run. To be unhappy at unimaginable levels, I would be someone I never aspired to be. But worse would be to put Suguru at risk. I knew better than anyone that the old men were crazy, playing with them would be worse than death.

Visiting the clan once a month was no longer enough. They wanted me to be under their roof every hour, sometimes without allowing me to return home. Suguru easily became suspicious, I convinced him for a while that it was a family matter that could not be resolved. I never told him the truth, that it was all about the engagement plans. 

But I couldn't put it off any longer, every time I looked into his eyes, something inside me trembled with fear. 

"Satoru, are you cheating on me?" 

I paused for a moment, not knowing what to answer.

"Suguru, you don't have anything else to do, do you?" I laughed. But the atmosphere became uncomfortable, he did not laugh.

Our relationship was starting to change little by little, we were no longer on the same page as before. So many things were going through my mind, and I was hiding everything from Suguru.

Suguru didn't talk to me like he used to, he was distant. I felt like I was losing him more than ever. I told the clan to leave me alone, that I had my own home, and I was not going to serve them until the day I signed that document. I didn't care about meeting my relative, seeing the wedding clothes, the arrangements, nothing. I wanted nothing from them. 

A few days later, I returned home at night without telling Suguru, but he was not there. I always thought he stayed at home when I was away. I didn't know where to find him, so I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning and that's when I heard someone opening the door.  It was him. He was crying and his clothes were a mess. His lips were swollen, it was obvious what had happened. I didn't know how to react; I felt every part of me crumbling.  Suguru just looked at me with despair and sadness, as he collapsed. 

"Satoru..." Suguru said, barely being able to speak.

"What happened to you?"

"I tried. I really tried. I wanted to hurt you. I know it would hurt you if I was with someone else. I called Miguel, he kissed me without hesitation, but I couldn't stop thinking about you. I'm sorry."

I felt my blood heat up, I never liked Miguel, Suguru's childhood friend. I knew Miguel was in love with him. I despised him more than anyone. He had touched my Suguru, he had touched parts of his body that only I knew, he had kissed the lips that belonged to me. I felt something indescribable coming from me.

I lost my mind and went on top of Suguru, while he was helpless. My hands were around his neck, he was crying and could barely breathe. He looked pale, tears running down his face. Just seeing him like that made me want to kiss him. Devour him. 

I kissed him like never before. I kissed him with rage, sadness, desire. It was a rough and filthy kiss, but he didn't stop me. I grabbed him with my arms and his legs were around my waist. We had to stop so we could breathe, then he kept kissing me. We walked towards the bed, I unbuttoned his pants and with one of my hands I started to take care of it. Then I kissed every part of his body. I moaned his name, and he moaned mine. We made sure we were touching each other's bodies. Then we did it for hours, until our bodies were exhausted, until the sheets were dirty and soaked.

When I woke up, Suguru was stroking my hair. He saw my eyes and gave me a light kiss on my cheek, one of those kisses that were so characteristic of him.

"Satoru."

"Mmh..?"

"Marry me."

"What nonsense are you talking so early in the morning?" I said with a yawn.

"We never talk about our future. About what we want to do."

He was right. We lived together and I have settled down for a life with him. Never knowing what he really wanted. Marriage. Marriage was nothing but a contract for me, something I was being forced to do. Not something I wanted. I never thought of marrying him.

"Listen, Satoru. It doesn't have to be now. Just take this."

We were lying in bed, wrapped in sheets. He stood up while still naked and I just admired him. He walked over and handed me a small box. Inside were two silver rings.

"These are promise rings. I bought them years ago. But you don't have to answer me now, I can wait to marry you for 5 or 10 years. It doesn't matter. I will wait as long as it takes. I want a life with you, to have a family, to see us grow old."

My breath stopped. Suguru had thought about this for a long time. After all, he was still the emotional of the two. Suguru was able to connect with people, to have friends, to be honest. Something I wasn't. He wanted us to be together for a long time, while I was visiting the clan on the sly, planning a future Suguru would not be part of.

I nodded. Then just kissed him. Not really wanting to talk more about it. I was afraid. My head was a mess, I could almost feel my hands shaking. I went to the bathroom before he could say anything. 

It was 6 P.M. and Suguru was watching the sunset in a chair with the window open. Surprisingly, he was still rolled up in the dirty sheets we had used. I stood behind him and kissed his neck.  

He was giving me a serious look. Something is wrong, I thought. 

"You know, Satoru?"

"Mm?" I said as I put my face to his neck, wanting to smell his scent and kiss him.

"You have never said that you love me."

"Suguru, I know I didn't respond well to the marriage thing. But that doesn't mea-" He interrupted me before I could finish. 

"I saw the invitation. You don't have to pretend, not anymore." he said while gritting his teeth, he was angry, but in his eyes, I could see the sadness he felt.

"What invitation?"

Then I saw it. An envelope from the Gojo clan. 

It is with great pleasure and utmost honor that I extend warm greetings to you on behalf of the esteemed Gojo family. As esteemed patrons of tradition and excellence, it is with great joy that we announce the forthcoming union of our scion, Satoru Gojo, to the esteemed Akari Gojo.

The bond between Satoru and Akari is one rooted in mutual respect, admiration, and shared values, qualities that have long been cherished within the annals of the Gojo lineage. Their forthcoming marriage promises to be a celebration of love, commitment, and the timeless values that define our family's legacy.

As esteemed members of our social circle, your presence at this momentous occasion would add immeasurable joy and grace to the festivities. We cordially invite you to join us in celebrating the union of Satoru and Akari on X at Y, where we shall come together to honor the traditions and values that have bound our family for generations.

Your presence will undoubtedly elevate the occasion, and we eagerly anticipate the pleasure of your company as we unite in celebration and merriment.

With warm regards and heartfelt appreciation,

Representatives of the Gojo clan.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Suguru did not meet my eyes. I knew he was crying; his body was trembling a little, his breathing was quickening. I knew every reaction his body had when tears rolled down his eyes. I tried to get close to him, to hug him, I wanted to tell him that it was not what it seemed. But it was.

"Suguru..."

"WHAT THE FUCK, SATORU!" He screamed -something he never did. - "TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!"

I tried to calm him down by touching his hands.

"Do. not. touch. me."

I didn't move for a while. But then he spoke again.

"Hah..." He chuckled. "You can't even say it. You can't say you love me; you are incapable of doing it."

"I-"

"Leave. I do not want to see you. The sight of you is a curse." he said with frustration, as he arranged his bangs back with the rest of his hair. He looked beautiful.  

And then I left the house. He was hurt, once again, and it was my fault. 

For hours I sat on a bench, looking at the sky full of stars. Waiting for time to pass and for Suguru to stop being upset, we would talk after things had calmed down, I thought. How stupid. 

When I returned to our house, Suguru had taken all his things with him, leaving no trace other than his scent. On the table beside the bed was a letter and the promise ring that was his. I opened the letter; only three words. Words that made me tremble, that made me lose my sanity, words that I could not say to keep my pride.

#satosugu #geto suguru #ieri shoko #stsg #gojo x geto #jjk art #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #geto smut #gojo smut #satoru gojo

[romanarose]

For the Longest Time: Chapter 5

William Miller x Fem!OC (Lorelei Giang)

Masterlist : Triple Frontier Masterlist :Playlist

Join my taglist!

Summary: At the funeral, Lorelei sees a face from her past and learned a little about Will. They start to find they have more in common than they thought.

Warnings and content: Death of an abusive parent although there isn't much on that right now. Will is compartmentalizing. Talk of past child abuse, divorce, dad leaving, colorism from a parent. Will is emotionally constipated.

****************

It was hot.

Lorelei was trying her best to be supportive but also mind her place. She wasn’t Will’s girlfriend. Mrs. Miller greeted her kindly and thanked her for coming, but se knew she was mostly a source for gossip. Alice, was Ben’s actually girlfriend and was allowed to mourn and be fawned over. Lorelei was there to be support. Will spent a few days largely away, and even headed out today, road separately. Jana asked if Lorelei would like to join her and Frankie to the services and memorial. This ended up being helpful.

Lorelei was about 4 months along and was showing, but certainly had gained weight and all her black dresses were too tight, not only for a funeral but for the muggy middle Florida weather in general. Jana was a size or so above Lorelei and brought over a few options for a more respectable and practical clothing for the weather.

The Millers lived on a farm just outside of the small town they lived in. Lorelei, Will and all the others all lived in a mid-sized town in the same county. The funeral was in the country, a gravesite a mile out from the baptist church and full of bugs that added to the uncomfortable air around them. Paul Miller was not well liked, but Jenna, Will and Benny were and the politics of a small town lead to a lot of obligations. It became clear this week that Jenna’s family was fairly prominent in the town, a “founding family” perse. Jenna and Paul’s marriage was a love match to be sure, many people wondering why a nic well-to-do girl was marrying into a poor farm boy, but Paul could turn on the charm. The marriage was a different story. Paul was an alcoholic and while Will was fairly tight lipped on exactly what happened, Lorelei knew there was abuse.

Will had urged her to sit in his seat during the funeral services, but afterwards Lorelei was attempting to get some fresh air from the crowds. It was clear the family was lage on both sides and very friendly, and Lorelei was growing tired of all the questions. Will had been protective, simply stating she was a friend and cutting anyone off who seemed to be prying. Lorelei was showing, but not obvious enough that it couldn’t just be passed off as a belly. Right now, Will was otherwise engaged in consoling his mother, so Lorelei was left to her own devices and took the chance to walk away. Lorelei wasn’t a big smoker, but she dabbled in stressful times and she was craving one bad. Or some red wine. God, that would be nice right now. 

She placed a hand on her belly. “You’re lucky I love you,Tũn.”

“And here I thought you just got fat.”

Tyler.

Lorelei turned around. “What the hell are you doing here?”

 Seeing Tyler for the first time in months was always a bit stark, but Tyler now stood in Will’s shadow, and the contrast was startling. Tyler was not that good look. Not unattractive, but he really is just some guy. This, compared to Will’s handsome face was almost embarrassing that Lorelei had settled for him, but the difference in treatment was the biggest black and white. Even before Tyler slapped her, which Lorelei let happen only once, Tyler was never good. He was a loser, frankly. Will had only ever treated her with respect, long before the pregnancy and even before their friendship. 

Will would have never suggested she was fat.

Tyler pointed to where her hand still rested on her stomach. “How long did it take you to fuck him, a week? I’d assume you did it that night, but Will’s knight in shining armour game wouldn’t allow for him to fuck you with a red mark on your face.”

“And just how was your face that night?” She snapped back. “Last I remember, you were in worse shape than me.”

“Everything okay here?” Santi’s voice drew her eyes to the side. He was walking towards her, arm around a flushed Laci who was holding a water bottle. She didn’t look well, and no doubt Santi was taking her to the car. The cars were parked in almost the opposite direction from her, however, so what was he doing here?

“Yeah.” She lied, turning to Tyler. “Tyler was just leaving.” 

Santi recognized the name, as did Laci by the way she turned to Santi. His arm drew her tighter to him, but he stayed put, his face settling darker. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m not leaving.” Tyler objected. “I know the Millers better than Lora does.”

Lorelei scoffed. “You said yourself you didn’t like Will or Ben.”

“Paul Miller was my bus driver and Mrs. Miller was my sunday school teacher. Just because you spread your legs and got knocked up doesn’t make you part of their family.”

“Watch it” Santi warned.

Lorelei wanted to handle this on her own, but knew she couldn’t do what she had 4 months back. She wouldn’t get in a fight while pregnant.

Tyler turned to Santi. “And who the hell are you?” He looked at Laci. “Aren’t you Benny’s girlfriend?”

Laci didn’t even attempt to respond, her mouth sealed shut. No doubt the whole day had been overwhelming, sensory overload for the sensitive girl and likely put her non verbal.

Santi looked to Lorelei and shot his eyes to Laci, and Lorelei got the hint. She stepped over to them and placed an arm around the wobbly girl. He stepped up to Tyler. Santi was shorter than the rest of the guys, but was no less of a force to be reckoned with. She’d seen it in defense of Laci with the creep at the bar, and Lorelei had no doubt it would come out if Tyler said anything about Laci-

“You stay the fuck away from Lorelei, I don’t want to fucking see you at the Miller house, understood?”

Oh. He was defending her.

“I’ll ask you again. Who. The fuck. Are you?”

“I’m the person who's going to kick your ass if you don’t leave her alone.”

Tyler must have been in a fighting mood today. He drew back his hand and swung, but before Laci had time to do anything but gasp, Santiago had taken hold of his hand, turned around and flipped Tyler onto his back with a thud. Lorelei looked to the crowd, and it didn’t seem anyone had noticed. When she turned back to the scene before her, Santi had pulled Tyler up by his collar and shoved him away.

“Offer your condolences to Mrs. Miller, and then fucking leave. If I see you near Lorelei again, it won’t just be me you’re dealing with.”

Tyler scrambled away, and Santi quickly took Laci back in his arms. “Are you okay, baby?”

Laci’s eyes were heavily lidded, and didn’t respond.

Lorelei clocked the heat exhaustion right away. “She needs to get in cool air, now.”

Santi nods. “We were on our way to ask if you wanted to join us,” He bent down slightly, scooping Laci up under her knees and carrying her. Laci weakly signed something that Lorelei couldn’t quite make out. She knew a little sign language but mostly conversational and in a hospital context. “Don’t worry about it.” Santi whispered, then turned to Lorelei as he started walking. “C’mon. The heat isn’t good for pregnant people.”

Lorelei followed them to the car where Lorelei instructed him to put Laci in the back so she could tend to her. As Santi drove to the farm, Lorelei coaxed her to drink water. The house was unlocked, church members setting up food for the memorial service and soon Lorelei was in full nurse mode. Santi buzzed with nerves, asking about a hospital but after checking her temp and her vitals, Lorelei said it was just heat exhaustion, not heat stroke. Santi then helped her walk to Benny’s childhood bedroom to rest as he cared for her and kept her awake.

When Will and Benny came in, it was clear they were fighting. “You’re such a fucking child, Benny!”

“You’re the one that tried to leave me on the goddamn road!” Benny was clearly drunk, slurring his words at 2 in the afternoon.

They went back and forth until Santi shouted down the stairs that Laci was resting.

Will yelled back to shut the hell up; Benny stopped yelling, knowing how badly Laci’s nerves affect her. Will stormed away, and Lorelei followed. When she found him, he was sitting on a twin bed in a room that clearly used to belong to a teenage boy.

“Was this your room?”

Will didn’t look away from the Attack of the Clones poster. “Yeah.”

“Can I sit?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Lorelei waited a few moments before talking. Will clearly needed a breather. They sat in silence for a few minutes and Lorelei took in his room. It was a jock’s room, clearly, with Miami Heat memorabilia around, but also a little bit nerdy. There was a box set of the Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit and the Similarian, all looking well worn, and of course some Star Wars here and there. Will never showed that side of him. 

“I like the posters. Were you a little nerdy in high school?” She asked, breaking the ice.

Will huffed a short laugh. “Yeah, I guess. Nerdy enough anyway. That surprise you?”

“A little.”

“And why’s that?” It seemed a genuine question.

She hesitated an answer. “Well your… you.”

Finally, Will turned to her, brow furrowed in question. “What does that mean?”

“Well, you… you. You’re strong, you give off football player energy.” He had been in football, after all. She knew that from stalking him via Tyler’s year books.

He still looked ticked off, leftover energy from the fight with Benny. “You think I was a dumb jock?”

“A little.” She tried to defuse the tension with a joke. “I mean you did go into the military, so I’m assuming the athletic scholarship didn’t work out?” Immediately after saying it, Lorelei regretted it. She knew she had a tendency to be rude, to say the first thing that comes to mind, and most people deserved it.

Will didn’t, and he snapped. “You think the smartest person in the room at all times, don’t you?” When Lorelei didn’t respond, he continued. “You have that air about you, you know. Maybe that’s why you don’t make friends.”

That hurt, and now she was on the defense and stood up in preparation for a fight. “Maybe I’m not the smartest person in the room, but I don’t see a lot of competition.”

Will stood up, matching her energy. “You don’t even have the highest education out of us, you know that?”

She didn’t know that, actually.

Will continued. “Jana has a masters degree in social work. Could hav gotten her dctorate two but didn’t see a point. She chose to make shit pay to help people when she probably could have gotten some fancy well paying job. Laci has a bachelors in psych. I know every see’s her as helpless, and you and Alice think she’s a ditz”

“I don’t-”

“But she is plenty smart. And Frankie, Frankie doesn’t have a degree but he’s a fucking enginier, Lore. You know what kinda brains you gotta have to do that shit? He got a 98 on his ASVAP. And me? I got into med school. I could have been a doctor, Lorelei, so I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking down to me.” After a pause, Will averted his eyes and sat down on the bed, mumbling a sorry with his face in his hands.

Lorelei stood in front of him, taking in his words. He was right, she did have a stuck up attitude. Will didn’t deserve it. Neither did Benny, Frankie, Jana, Laci or even Santi. Santi had proven to her that he was a good man the last few days.

“You got into med school?”

Will nodded into his hands. “Yeah. Took online classes. I was a combat medic so was able to get a lot of credits counted that way, and took dual credit in high school. Was supposed to leave the army to go.”

She spoke softly. “What happened?” 

Removing his hands, Will flopped backwards on the bed as he spoke. “Same thing that always happens. Benny.”

Lorelei joined him, grunting a bit as she sat and laid back, black hair sprawling everywhere. “Go on.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Laci saw Will turn to her, staring before turning back to watch the ceiling fan. “Ben popped positive on a drug test. He was inlisted at the time, doing real well too…”

Oh shit. “What was he on?”

“Coke, just like every fucking person I’ve ever loved, it seems.” Will was shaking. 

Lorelei knew Frankie and to a lesser extent Jana had suffered from addiction to cocaine.

“So what happened?”

“Tom called me. He was a friend from when him, me, Jana, and Santi were stationed together… He had moved his way up a lot and was starting a special ops team.” Will took a deep breath. In through his nose, out his mouth. His shaking stilled. “He said he could make it go away if me and Ben agreed to join his team… so I did.”

Will’s love for his brother never failed to surprise her. “You’re a good man, Will.”

Will shrugged. “He’s my brother.”

“My siblings would never do that for me.”

Will turned to her, and she looked to him in turn. Their faces were close, as close as they had been the night they almost kissed before they fucked. “Would you do it for them?”

“In a heartbeat.” She whispered.

“That’s the sacrifice for older siblings to bear.” 

They turned back to the ceiling, laying there for a moment and feeling the cool air of the fan on their skin. “I was an accident.” This caused Will to turn to her briefly before turning back. “My parents were both second generation, living in Philly. They got married at 18 to avoid the scandal… in the 2000’s in a Vietnamese area, it would have been a hoopla. Well, didn’t do much to save face as they got divorced when I was 8, my dad walked out. I didn’t see him for ten years.”

“Jeez, Lore, I’m sorry.”

She continued. “Mom remarried, had a daughter, my sister Sophie. I was about 13 then, 15 when she had Colin. My mom and step dad treated me like I was an outsider. I was too interested in my family's culture back then… I was obsessed with old Hollywood. I was accused constantly of being too western. First time I wore red lipstick, my step dad called me a whore and rubbed it off with his palm… I went back upstairs and applied it again anyway.”

She could feel Will tense next to her. “I love being vietnamese. It’s just at the time… I wanted to be different, look different. I wanted to be an actress for a while, but my mom told me my skin was too dark” Lorelei chuckles sardonically. “I spent years of college trying to lighten my skin, make my eyes look less asian… My sister was the perfect Asian daughter. My step dad had much lighter skin, so she did too. She was docile, agreeable, quiet…  everything I wasn’t. There’s always a divide between us, even today… I think her and Collin think of me as the bad guy, the reason there were fights in our house… but I’d give my life for them in a heartbeat.” She laughed again. “It’s funny, I’d do almost anything for them except pick up the phone to talk.”

Will laughed along with her. He reached out his hand, thankful that she allowed him to hold it. “I’m sorry you were treated like that. You didn’t deserve it.”

“It’s nothing compared to what you went through.”

“How do you know what I went through?”

“You aren’t as hard to read as you think you are.” A pause. “Is that why you won’t take off your shirt?”

Another pause. “Is that why you don’t kiss?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

*

Eventually, they returned to the memorial, a crowd of people having joined. Lorelei rubbed Will's arm encouragingly, and Will put on his best host face.

Laci had returned from her rest, Santi still fussing over her and insisting she stay sitting and drinking water. Frankie sat down by Lorelei as Jana messed with Santi across the room to a giggling Laci. 

“How’s Will?” He asked sincerely. 

She sighed. “He’s struggling. More than he’s letting on. Him and Ben got in a fight.”

Frankie laughed. “Yeah, that’s not unusual. He tell you what it was?”

“No.”

“It was so stupid.” Frankie shook his head, smiling. “Benny was trying to get Mrs. Miller to admit Paul was an asshole and she wasn’t happy with him.” Will stopped the truck and pushed Ben out and told him to walk home. Benny caught up and jumped on the truck bed and was stuck there the whole ride back, pouting.

Lorelei could picture it. “Their dad, he was… pretty bad, wasn’t he?”

Frankie grew solom. “Really bad. Will took the brunt of it though, always deflecting what Ben was supposed to get onto him.

Tears began to form, prickling at her eyes at the thought. 

“Excuse me, sorry.” She needed to step away, she couldn’t show vunerability like this. Frankie asked if she was okay, but she said she needed to use the bathroom.

Lorelei tucked herself away in a hall, away from prying eyes. He was so kind, he was so good… it pained her to know he had been hurt like that. She just wanted to hold little blonde Will, she just wanted to tell him that everything would be okay… she wanted to protect him and keep him safe.

“You alright there, young lady?”

Lorelei looked to see an old man shuffle in, but keeping a respectful distance. He looked kind but concerned. 

She sniffled, wiping away a tear. “Yes, thank you. Just a hard day.”

The old man nodded. He glanced only ever so slightly at her stomach, but quickly back up. She couldn’t blame him, especially when he never mentioned it. “You’re a friend of Will’s, aren’t you.”

Friend. “Yes sir. Just hear for support.”

He smiled. “He sure seems to have a lot of support, I’m glad to see. I’m Gideon.” He extended a withered hand to her.

Will’s maternal grandfather, “Oh! I’m Lorelei. You must be mrs. Miller’s grandfather. Im so sorry for your-”

He held up a hand, twinkle in his eye. “Paul was an asshole, my dear, I’m sure you know.”

Lorelei couldn’t help but chuckle. “I know. I met him once, and he did not make a good impression.”

Gideon laughed along with her. “I’m sure. Miss, if I may be so bold…”

“Please” He seemed kind; his presence was calming. A strong strength that Will possesed as well.

“I know you two are having a baby… Jenna told me.”

Lorelei began to worry; what would this old man think? A baby outside of marriage? Would he have an issue she was vietnamese? Hell, had he fought in Vietnam-

“And I’d just like to welcome you to out family.”

Oh. “Well... Will and I, we aren’t dating…” She attempted to clarify, but Gideon waved her off. “That doesn’t matter. You know Laci?” He pointed to the kitchen where Benny and Frankie had joined her, Santi and Jana. Will walked up at well, greeting Jana and Benny both with arms around their shoulders. “Laci like a granddaughter I never had. Her and Benny come over often, she always cooks, sweet girl she is.”

“She’s lovely.” Lorelei agreed. 

“They come around less now that Benny is with that McCarthy girl, but se la vi” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Laci is family. Hell, they're all family.” Gideon looked back at Lorelei. “And so are you. You’re a part of this family. Now,” He gently nudged her toward the group. “Go enjoy before Alice finds you.”

Lorelei laughed, drying the last of her tears and thanking him. She walked up to Will, sliding between him and Benny. Will smiled down at her, pulling her a few steps aside. “Hey Lore, you okay?”

She nodded. “I met your grandpa. He’s really nice.”

Will smiled at that. “Pops is the best… We’ll talk to him more in a bit. I just… I wanted to ask you on Rosie’s birthday, but I forgot, and then this whole week…” Will shook his head. “Listen, the VA I volunteer at is having its annual charity fundraiser, and they let me choose the non-profit.” He smiled proudly. “I chose the women’s shelter Jana and Laci work for.”

Lorelei smiled up at him, heart swelling in the pride he obviously felt. Will did a lot for the VA, it makes sense they let him pick. “That’s great Will, congratulations.”

“Well, the thing is…” He rocked back on his heels a bit, a nervous energy in him that she wasn’t used to seeing. “It’s a ball. Fancy as shit and all that… Santi, Frankie and Ben are taking Laci, Jana and Alice… and I was hoping…” Deep breath in, deep breath out. “You’d like to go with me?”

She was a bit shocked to say the least. “When is it?”

“It’s two months from now.”

Her heart dropped a bit. “Oh… well… I’m going to be at almost 6 months by that point…”

His smile faltered, looking down at the floor. “Oh, yes, of course I bet you wouldn’t be very comfortable at that point-”

“No, I mean… I’ll be showing… more…”

He looked confused. “Yeah?”

“Well… do you really want a girl you knocked up? Don’t you have some pretty girl-”

Will’s eyes were wide with horror “I don’t want to bring anyone else, Lore. I want to bring you. You’re my best friend, you are a pretty girl. You’re pregnant, not knocked up. We are having a baby, and Lorelei…” Will sighed, a little wistfully, placing a careful hand on her stomach, his blue eyes connecting with hers. “I’m happy. I’m happy were having this baby and I love them, and you, more than I thought possible…” Will’s eyes shown with the emotion of his words. “You are both my family, and I love you.”

As Lorelei listened to him talk, she lost herself for a moment thinking he was professing something different, that the love in his words was romantic… then she remembered their position, she remembered that this was not a fairy tale. She had to be happy with what she had. A loving father of her child, and a so-far healthy baby on the way. It wasn’t a fairy tale, but everything was going to be okay. She was going to be a mom, they were going to break the cycle of hers and Will’s families, and unlike her and Will, this baby would have a father who loved them. 

“I’d love to go to the ball with you, Will.” She placed a hand on one cheek and kissed the other, making him blush. “But I might be wearing New Balance nursing shoes.”

********************

ngl Lorelei needed to get knocked down a peg.

But they are seeing a little more eye to eye at least now.

@pimosworld @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @missdictatorme @milkymoon2483 @poeedameronn@itspdameronthings @miraclesabound @babymills16 @rayslittlekitten

#William miller #will ironhead miller #triple frontier #William miller x oc #William miller smut #william miller angst #William miller comfort #fem oc #triple frontier fanfiction

[sinsandsuccubus]

Light of Love - Jack Harlow

Context: He was better.

Genre: angst ➤ fluff

Word Count: 1k

Pairings: Jack Harlow X Fem!Reader, Urban Wyatt X Ex!Reader

Warnings: suggestive, light talk of sex

A/N: the people have spoken! And by popular demand, Jack and the reader get together. Here’s their story!

This is a Part 2 to Over the Love, please read that part before reading this one, as it’ll make more sense.

-

Masterlist ☽☾

                                          ☽ ☾

One year.

It took you one year to recover from the damage Urban had done. Truth be told, you hadn’t thought you’d love again. The idea of being with someone else made you nauseous; not only because the thought of it being a joke was on the table, but because it wouldn’t be Urban.

As much as you wanted to let go of Urban, you couldn’t. At least, immediately. It took time. Time for you to heal, time to you to learn how to live without him, time for you to discover yourself and your life, without him in it.

It was hard. All the memories, the clothes he had at your home, the lingering smell of his cologne.

It took you 4 months to unblock all of your friends, the one who initially started the bet forever blocked, they wouldn’t have the chance to ask for forgiveness nor see your success. Everyone else apologized with full hearts, crying out to you in desperation and sadness.

Truthfully, it was disgusting. Disgusting that they even called themselves your “friends”. But, you forgave them.

However, you’d never forget.

                                          ☽ ☾

It took another year to realize that you were in love with Jack. It finally occurring to you after he left your apartment after a movie marathon. You wondered how he’d feel sleeping in your bed, cuddling you close, and kissing along your skin. You wondered what it would feel like to have him inside of you, to fuck you, make love to you. You wondered what it would be like to have the Jack Harlow. The Jackman you knew and loved.

So when he came back over at your request that same night and fucked you like never before, you confessed.

It took 3 months of dates, trips, and movie nights for him to call you his. And another 3 months for it to be announced to the public.

Some people called you a “homie hopper”, others said that you “were in it for the money”. Sometimes it got to your head, but most of the time it didn’t, because you knew your place and where you stood. You loved Jack.

And he felt the same.

                                          ☽ ☾

Of course, with Jack came Urban; they were like two peas in a pod. And when Urban found out that you had gone for his best friend, he was beyond furious. He accused you of being a slut, a whore, and all the names out the book. However, Jack took none of that and put Urban in his place for his ignorance and stupidity.

“She’s a fucking whore.”

“And you’re a fucking dickhead for doing what you did to her. She wasn’t a “whore” when she was fucking you and “keeping your bed warm”, now was she?”

Needless to say, it took time to amend the friendship they had.

You didn’t want to pride yourself on being the girl who broke up two brothers-from-other-mothers. At least, that’s what the media and your conscience pinned you to be.

But when Urban posted a statement on Twitter about his ordeals and how his “fans” should stay in their place, you actually believed he had a good heart.

And when he apologized to you after you’d finally worked up the courage to come on tour with Jack, you knew he had a heart.

Sure, he had smashed yours completely, and sure Jack had put it back together, however, there was nothing like closure.

It also made you feel good that you lived rent-free in his mind alongside the guilt he felt.

Good. As he should.

                                          ☽ ☾

The moonlight seeped in through the drapes of your hotel room, reflecting off the sweat from the activity you and Jack had engaged in a few moments prior. Paris was beautiful, but you already had something else in mind that was also beautiful.

“If you keep staring, I’m gonna think there’s something wrong with my face” Jack grumbled out in his sleep, slightly wiping the remains from his eyes. You chuckled at his comment, resting your head on the hand you had propped up by your arm.

“You’re just so beautiful babe.”

“I literally just blew your back out and am covered in sweat and you think I’m beautiful?”

“Says the same person who thought I was beautiful when I was covered in mud from that horse back riding trip we went on.”

“To be fair, we hadn’t known it was going to rain that hard, and at that time. And besides, it wasn’t the fact that you were covered in mud, it was the fact that I pictured you covered in something else outside the mud.”

“Ohmygod Jack!” You spoke as you slapped your hand across his chest, willing him to open his eyes fully and flip the two of you over, pinning you under him.

“You’re gonna be screaming that in a few.”

“Jackman Thomas Harlow!”

“Damn, why you gotta pull out my government name and shit, that’s not polite.” He spoke, offense in his tone. You laughed at him, pulling him down for a serious kiss. He swiped his tongue alongside yours, sucking onto it as the kiss got more intense. You pulled away breathless, his forehead resting on yours, noses rubbing against one another.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you more Jack.”

“Impossible!”

“Don’t start this again! I am not arguing with you!”

“Well, let me show you.” He spoke seductively, laying marks upon your skin.

Yeah, you were in love again. But this time, better.

-

Tags ♡︎

@heavyhitterheaux

@babyharleezy

#urbany wyatt x reader #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow #urban wyatt #bf! jack harlow #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x you #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concept

[kafus]

i would super love to hear another cool pokemon story if there's one you wanna share!! literally anything; all your pokemon posts are so interesting and engaging to read ♡ also!!! i hope you're doing well and finding reason to smile each day

ogh THANK U i hope ur doing well as well

one of these days i might run out of stories 😭 BUT i don’t think i’ve talked about the pokemon competition i went to when i was around 8 years old??? and i’ve been thinking about that recently so why not

i’ve talked before about how my interest in pokemon as a young person was defined by loneliness/isolation and how i never really had the social pokemon experience that most people did, so the few times i actually got to interact with other people over the shared interest stick out very strongly in my brain. in particular when i was i Think 8 years old, there used to be a small family-owned video game store in my town (it shut down a long time ago unfortunately, i miss it) and they ran events sometimes. i managed to find out they were running a singles competition in pokemon battle revolution, and my mom actually agreed to taking me

it’s important to keep in mind that i was like 8 and i didn’t know shit about competitive battling. i loved sinnoh and had pokemon i thought were strong but at this time i didn’t even know natures affected stats. i was an inexperienced little girl and i just brought my team of in-game guys that i liked. amusingly i was the only girl there, i just remember walking in and being surrounded by boys LOL both my age and older, like there were some older teens and maaaybe adults idk

anyway all things considered i actually got decently far because competitive mons was much more niche back then and no one knew what they were doing LMAO. i was mostly pitting my in-game mons against other kids’ in-game mons. i knew type matchups by heart and had some pretty decent pokemon to my memory - i don’t remember my entire team but i know i had torterra and articuno at least (articuno was one of my favorite pokemon at the time)

eventually i was… like… idk right before semi finals? i wasn’t quite in the top 4, i think i was in the top 8? i went up against an older boy who actually knew what he was doing and had a genuine competitive team. i’m not sure how old he actually was, at the time anyone above the age of 13 looked like an adult to me lol, i’m guessing in retrospect he was 17 or something. he THOROUGHLY kicked my ass with fucking BLISSEY TOXIC STALL lmao. at the time i was dumbfounded at how his blissey just took no fucking damage and it’s really funny being able to understand what happened in retrospect, i kept bringing my special attackers not being aware of blissey’s extremely lopsided defensive stats.

you’d think i would have been upset about losing but i was moreso really impressed with this guy’s blissey, and then smth i’ll never forget, after i lost he shook my hand and looked at me in the eyes and said that i did a good job and that i should keep playing pokemon because he thinks from the way that i played that i had a lot of potential. i was literally over the moon, it meant so much to be acknowledged with full seriousness by someone so much older than me who also lest we forget literally just beat my ass with toxic stall lol. having my interest in pokemon validated and being told i was good at it just made my entire week. or month. or year tbh.

nowadays that i’m a ribbon master mod and going to my first regionals next month, i think about that guy a lot. perhaps i was a late bloomer but i think whatever he saw in me was real. not that i’m the best pokemon player ever or something, and i’m certainly still learning a lot about vgc in particular, but like. yeah i do really care about this game and i think i have the potential to be good at it. and it was prophesized long agodjdjdk

always be nice to kids cause small gestures like that can stick with someone for the rest of their life tbh

#kiki was here #asks #kira-kira-kitty #pokemon #dppt #pbr

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Idea (Lloyd Hansen)

Warning: Sexual themes, dubiously consensual themes. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY! Minor DNI!

Summary: Lloyd has bullied you throughout your childhood, but it seems that he's taken a different approach at vying for your attention in university.

Author's Note: This is something that I've been sitting on for a while, I found it in my drafts and since I'm not really working on it at the moment, I figured I could just share the outline and see how it's received.

Bully!Lloyd Hansen x Reader

You've known Lloyd since grammar school, and for the longest time, he'd taken it upon himself to be your personal bully through high school. 

The Bullying got so bad that you were sure you developed some kind of PTSD from it because everything about him triggered fear in you. 

His Presence 

His Voice 

And in High School, his cologne.

When your senior year hit, you were more excited than anyone else to leave and move on to University. 

For the previous 4 years, you'd busted your ass to make sure you would end up at a school that you knew Lloyd wouldn't attend. You drive intensifying with every insult, prank, or joke on your behalf.

And you did it 

You got accepted to Harvard University on a partial and conditional scholarship.

Before moving out to Massachusetts, you have all your ducks in a row.

Classes registered, check 

Work Study enlisted, check 

Part-Time Job employed, check 

Extracurriculars researched and ready to apply, check

You refused to repeat your childhood. Being the shy little lamb that you were, you thoroughly planned to break out of your shell and become a fierce bobcat, 

The first week was hectic, but you expected and prepared for this, it took about a month to catch your footing in your schedule, and by the second month, you were growing and thriving into the adult you'd always hoped to be 

Lloyd wasn't there to ruin anything, so you worked tirelessly to make sure you had the best experience you could at college. 

You even experienced fun outside campus, at bars, parties, and houses. 

Unfortunately, the fun didn't last. 

While in line waiting for your usual drink, Someone called out your name as if it were to make sure it was you. 

The voice was eerily familiar, so you turned to ensure your ears were deceiving you. 

Unfortunately, they weren't 

It was Lloyd, and he greeted you as if you were old friends, as if he didn't spend his childhood making your life miserable. 

Lloyd got to Harvard, full-ride, on a football scholarship. 

You were fucking livid. 

Of course, your luck was shit enough to have your bully follow you into University. Still, you figured, if you hadn't seen him till then, you couldn't bump into him any more often, right?

Wrong 

Since that unfateful day, it was as if the stars were aligned to ensure you bumped into each other more often. 

Every day, you were constantly bumping into each, and he spoke to you as if you didn't hate his guts.

 When the school year dragged into the next semester, you keeled over when you realized you had 3 classes with him, and in each of those classes, he made sure to sit next to you and engage. Including himself in your study sessions. 

As time went on, although you didn't realize it, he was overtaking your life; you were hanging out and attending parties. 

Lloyd seemed to genuinely enjoy your company, and his strong presence made it difficult to deny him. Unfortunately, because of this, you end up shrinking back to your shy and timid self.

He also started getting a bit more handsy. 

Tickling you more often, long hugs, cuddling, even giving what he likes to call "playful hickeys" because 'they don't mean anything; I'm just messing with you 

The whole thing just made you so uncomfortable. 

One day you were both watching a movie together, and Lloyd somehow snuck himself between your legs and decided to press his lips to your neck to give you another "Playful Hickey" You tried to push him off, as usual, trying to provide the movie with some attention, but he didn't budge 

So you just gave in like you always did, but something about this time was different; he wrapped his arms around your body and squeezed you tight.

He adjusts himself a bit, and you can feel his hardness against you the next thing you know.

You still praying it was an accident, but it's not. 

He starts grinding his crotch into yours, building friction, removing his lips from your neck and gently placing them on yours.

How did you get here? 

You couldn't stand the man, and now he was using your body to get off?

.

#Lloyd Hansen #dark fics #bully! Lloyd Hansen x Reader #The Gray Man #dark! Lloyd Hansen x Reader #outline

[nikkeisimmer]

Back in 1991 I was a college student in the music program at Douglas College, 20 years old in May 1991 (a month before I turned 21). I was not finding college much fun and my educational difficulties were showing up full force.

Then along comes Timothy Zahn with a continuation of the Star Wars saga that I had grown up with. Gen X were the target audience as children for Star Wars back in 1977 when I was a kid of 6 years old at least when Star Wars came out in April of that year. And the entire trilogy (Star Wars, Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi) were complete and released in the theatres by the time I had turned 13.

So as a young adult, what’s now referred to as the Legends series of books were a part of my life. I would save up and buy each one as they came out, reveling in the further adventures of Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Leia Organa (now Solo) and their growing family. Some of the events in my own personal life (in general my luck with women mirrored that of Luke Skywalker who couldn’t seem to find a match even if he tried. I mean, look at his track record (the woman who tried to kill him back during the Rebellion days then there was Gaerial Captison, a few others here and there, Callista (the Bodysnatcher) Ming) and well, Mara… who finally in the Legends became his wife).

The relationship of Mara and Luke was one that really struck a close chord because to me Luke was the “everyman”; the hero of the story; the one everyone wants to be. And what I really wanted at the time,considering the circumstances of being in an abusive situation with my mother and her narcissistic traits, was an escape (from reality, perhaps); someway to get out of the situation I was in. So Star Wars was a way, when I wasn’t working at selling houses which frankly was no longer enjoyable by the time 1998 rolled around, to escape the abuse and BS at home.

Narcissistic parents and their enablers want you helpless and strip away your emotional supports and they did that quite well. If you’re doing the math, I was 29 at this point.

The Hand of Thrawn duology of Ghosts of the Past and Visions of the Future had come out and we saw Luke and Mara get engaged.

And well, I had met (online) my future wife and was on the phone with her a lot. This was wayyyy before everyone and their dog and cats. having their own personal cell phones. Cell phones and pagers (remember those?) were the realm of business people. I was in real estate, so I owned one of both.

I rolled a sabacc on that one. We’re 23 years together as of next month. We’ve been through ups and downs that probably would have broken up most couples including my mother’s meddling. But the choice that I made was to stick with my wife: to get away from my mother who had done nothing other than to beat me down every chance she got.

In other words my relationship with my wife saved my life.

And that’s also a reason why Star Wars is so important to me. It provided an escape and a bit of sanity in an insane situation and allowed me a bit of time to plan my escape. I left my parent’s hpuse in March of 2000. 4 months before my now-wife came up from the States and 5 before she and I got married (parents were not invited - her mother due to logistics because of her being back in the States, secondly, my parents weren’t due to my mother’s abusive controlling behavior and my dad because by now he’d become her enabler). My uncle; my mother’s flying monkey had predicted our marriage wouldn’t last.

23 years and every wedding anniversary that passes is lile another happy “fuck you” to my uncle.

This is one of the reasons why I’m disgusted with the sequel series. Everyone goes through trials and tribulations and they grow, learn from their experiences and mature to become hopefully a better version of themselves.

Rey on the other hand is a Disney’fied version of their typical Princess stories. There’s no growth at all other than the time she was on Jakku. There was the “immediate learning” of her Jedi skills with very little training - a kind of Mulan’ish immediately good at everything. There was no connection at all with Rey as a character.

But then again if one likes their stories to be all fluff and light, then fine. But don’t disrespect the original characters while doing it.

Turning the hero character into a miserable old grouch who lives like a hermit who tosses his father’s lightsaber when he originally treated it with reverence is not subverting the plot.

It’s being a dick and ruining a much loved character just for a cheap laugh. Yeah, I’m pretty angry with the sequels because when I was a kid, I idolized Luke Skywalker and Han Solo.

I looked forward to the sequels, hoping that they would do justice to Lucas’s vision, but we got a disjointed plot, “Somehow Palpatine returned”, Super Rey Palpatine and bitter old angry OT characters who were characterized as incompetent. And what enraged me the most was that we got this.

The final insult from Disney’s screwing up the sequels so badly was after filming TLJ, Carrie Fisher went into full cardiac arrest on an aircraft and passed away. There is now no way to rectify the mess that the House of Mouse has made to Star Wars; the franchise that I love more than any other sci-fi franchise. I grew up with this franchise and while I’ve grown out of what Lucas had termed as the target audience, when someone messes with the memories of your childhood, screws up your heroes, yeah, you get mad.

For me, Star Wars was my happy escape and thanks to Rian “Ruin” Johnson, it’s tainted irreparably. Harrison Ford may have wanted out but the rest loved their characters. And Mark Hamill wanted his character treated with some respect but instead of Luke Skywalker, the noble Jedi, he got Jake Skywalker - the down and out green-milk guzzling irritable hermit who “doesn’t give a shit no more!”

Disney has gone full on and said that anyone who dislikes the sequels and dislike the way Rey is written are old racists and white misogynists who live in their mom’s basements.

Well I ain’t white, I don’t live in my mom’s basement, I wish women got treated more fairly, I’m more liberal than conservative and I’m frankly pissed that my childhood film heroes got so disrespected. OK granted, I may be old and not a kid any more (my wife would beg to differ. She says I’m a 2 year old in a 53 year old body) but I still love my Star Wars with the exception of the sequels.

And Legends will always have a special place in my heart because it got me through the toughest part of my life.

#a bit of a fact about myself #non-sims #Nikkei_Simmer’s Stories #Star Wars sequel rant

[leiawritesstories]

I posted 2,406 times in 2022

That's 2,113 more posts than 2021!

659 posts created (27%)

1,747 posts reblogged (73%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@leiawritesstories

@morganofthewildfire

@rowanaelinn

@tomtenadia

@heirofflowers

I tagged 1,969 of my posts in 2022

Only 18% of my posts had no tags

#leia rambles - 638 posts

#rowaelin - 349 posts

#my writing - 266 posts

#aelin galathynius - 171 posts

#rowan whitethorn - 160 posts

#ask game - 109 posts

#fly the black flag - 87 posts

#as i am - 80 posts

#ask - 64 posts

#fluff - 57 posts

Longest Tag: 99 characters

#i cannot watch any show/movie/anything with live musicians and not analyze said musicians technique

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Fly The Black Flag Masterlist

A Rowaelin pirate AU

Also known as Horny Pirates™

General warnings: language, depictions of violence, blood, guns, piracy and other immoral things, probable smut

NSFW marked with **

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

MOODBOARD by the amazing @elentiyawhitethorn

PLAYLIST by my dear @rowanaelinn

FIC PLAYLIST (Spotify)

~

TEASER 1: The Plan

ONE: The Stowaways

TWO: Where The Hell Is Lorcan?

THREE: Oh, That’s Just Fenrys Falling!

FOUR: And You’re Going To Lead Us There

FIVE: Take It All

SIX: WHY IS THE RUM GONE?

SEVEN: Rolfe Calls For A Meeting

Chapter 8 Teaser

EIGHT: You’re Late, Galathynius!

NINE: Aggravating

TEN: What the FUCK, Ashryver?

ELEVEN: A Visit From The Royal Navy

TWELVE: So She Cloned Herself?

THIRTEEN: The Perranth Truce**

FOURTEEN: Within Sight Of Fenharrow**

DELETED SCENE: CH. 14**

FIFTEEN: The Traitor’s Tale

SIXTEEN: A Queen In Her Castle

SEVENTEEN: Burn In Hell

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123 notes - Posted March 27, 2022

#4

I had an idea for a Rowaelin prompt: Aelin gathers the courage to give her number to a very handsome stranger -who then messages her telling he's gay, but it was super cool that Aelin had the guts to give her number. He also has a super hot brother, who just happens to be single and he could give the brother's number to Aelin.

She then messages the brother, they start chatting and do end up on a date - and he does not disappoint, for the pine green eyes, silver hair and a body to die for are even better than what she could've hoped for

hi anon!! I love this so much hehehehe

word count: 1,946

warnings: none 

Enda’s Single Brother

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

Maybe it was the liquid courage. 

Maybe it was that she hadn’t gotten laid in seven months. 

Or maybe it was just sheer Aelin Galathynius Confidence™ that made her strut across the crowded pub and approach the tall, handsome guy leaning against the bar, purposely tripping a little to bump into him. 

“God, I’m so sorry,” she apologized, righting herself against the bar top. 

“It’s not a problem,” the guy replied, grinning at her. Yeah, he was cute. “My name’s Endymion, but everyone calls me Enda.” 

“Nice to meet you, Enda.” She shook his hand warmly. “I’m Aelin.” 

She chatted casually with Enda for a few minutes, breaking off when Elide waved at her from the table. “Shoot, my friend’s waving frantically at me, I should go see what she wants.” 

“Nice meeting you, Aelin,” Enda grinned. 

“You too.” Aelin loosed a short huff. Then she scribbled her number down on a napkin and slid the flimsy paper over to him. “I don’t want to seem pushy, but here’s my number, I’d love to keep talking.” She left before her face could erupt into flames. 

“You did it!” Elide whisper-screeched when she got back to the table, blushing a little. 

“Yeah,” Aelin agreed. “Yeah, I did.” 

“You go, girl!” Lys slapped her a high five. “Look at you, all grown up and getting hot guys to notice you.” 

“Bitch,” Aelin laughed. But she was proud of herself. 

~

Enda texted her after she got home, the message pinging on her phone. She glanced at the screen. 

>Hey, it’s Enda! 

<Hey Enda! This is Aelin

>Oh good, it worked :) 

<Glad it did 

>Okay 

>I have to admit something...

<Yeah? Go ahead!

>I...um...

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132 notes - Posted July 28, 2022

#3

A Rowaelin prompt if I may; Rowan and Aelin are engaged, but every time someone asks them to tell how the proposal went/how they ended up engaged, they make up new stories - each one more random and dirty than the one before. No matter who asks, whether family, friends or random old ladies at the grocery store.

Thank you SO MUCH for the prompt!! <3

word count: 912

warnings: language, naughty naughty jokes, mentions of sex, lots of innuendo

enjoy!!!

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

Aelin could hardly open the garage door, she was laughing so hard. Rowan wasn't any better, he was bent halfway over, clutching his stomach, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as he tried and failed to catch his breath.

"Shit, Aelin," he wheezed, fumbling for the door to hold it open for her, "In public?!"

"And here I thought you were the one who was into that," she smirked, cackling even harder. She managed to place the bags of groceries both she and Rowan were carrying onto the counter before another wave of laughter crashed over her, leaving her to sink to the floor, wheezing helplessly. "I can't believe I said that."

"I can," Rowan grinned, handing her a tissue.

At the grocery store, they'd been going through the checkout line when the cashier, a very sweet lady about Rowan's mom's age, had noticed Aelin's engagement ring and offered her congratulations. And then she'd asked them for the story, of course, like so many of their friends and relatives and even random people on the street had done in the two months since Rowan had popped the question.

Wicked sparks gleamed in Aelin's eyes.

"Well," she began, leaning in like she was sharing a secret, "I think it was the fourth orgasm that did it."

The poor cashier's eyes had nearly fallen out of her face as she goggled.

Innocently, Aelin continued. "Y'see, he'd never gone more than three rounds back to back, something I'm certainly not complaining about, no ma'am, but something about that resort must have given him extra stamina or something, because the man is insatiable." She winked broadly. "Insatiable, I tell you. In the pool, in the shower, all over the suite--hell, the poor staff's probably still finding scuff marks on the walls from the bedframe banging into it. Three times my fine fiancé had filled me up, and just as I thought he was going to drop down next to me and fall asleep, he and his best friend suddenly became re-energized, and I found myself in a position I'd never tried before. Doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it, no indeed." Her grin was positively evil. "So after that round, in the throes of bliss and all of that, he rolled over onto his side and just panted, 'Marry me, baby.' I thought for sure it was the orgasms talking, but he was serious." She blew Rowan a kiss, admiring her ring.

The cashier's jaw hung open. She took a big deep breath and shook herself back into business mode. "I...I'm sure the two of you will be very happy together," she managed as she rang up the total.

Aelin and Rowan had barely made it out the doors before they exploded with laughter, great pealing guffaws that lasted the whole drive back to their house. She wasn't quite sure how she'd managed to see well enough to drive given the film of laughter-tears that clouded her eyes, but they'd made it.

"I think that was the best one yet," Rowan remarked as he helped her stand.

She snorted. "Better than the one we told Lorcan?"

He coughed, the memory of that account rising. "Shit, maybe not."

Elide and Lorcan had been some of the first people to find out about their engagement. They'd been over at Rowan and Aelin's house, and the loudest shriek Rowan had ever heard in his life emitted from Elide when she caught sight of Aelin's new ring. Of course, she and Lorcan had demanded the proposal story right away. Aelin shot Rowan a wicked wink, her intent to spin something absolutely wild showing in the gesture.

Then she'd launched into a gushy retelling of the place where Rowan had proposed--the Galathynius family's cabin in the Oakwald Forest--complete with a hell of a lot of embellishment, mostly involving celebration sex.

Rowan couldn't help himself when Lorcan raised an eyebrow and inquired how well he thought it had gone.

"Judging by the way she squirted all over my face, I'd say it went very well indeed," he'd hummed, smirking like the cat who ate the canary.

Or the fiancée, as it were.

Lorcan's face went a rather gratifying shade of uncomfortable. "Fuck, Whitethorn," he grumbled, crimson staining his cheeks. "Why the fuck d'you have to be so crude?"

"Pot, kettle," Rowan snorted, snickering at his oldest friend.

Ah yes, the start of their wild proposal stories.

Aedion and Lys had been told that Rowan proposed on a ziplining date, one of the wilder adventures he and Aelin had taken together, an adventure that had almost given him several heart attacks when Aelin decided to go down the route that included leaping off a tree into a steep plunge as part of the course. Aelin's parents had heard that their future son-in-law proposed on the way home from the club. While singing a boisterous, off-key rendition of "Let's Get It On" and stumbling over his own two feet. Rowan's parents had heard that he proposed in an airplane bathroom--what the two of them were doing together in an airplane bathroom, they had not wanted to know.

They invented proposal stories on the fly, whenever someone new asked. The one Aelin had told at the grocery store was definitely the dirtiest, though.

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135 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

#2

Chef’s Special

word count: 3,347

warnings: NSFW, language, minors proceed with caution. 

ENJOY! had way too much fun writing this haha

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

Aelin was running on pure instinct and adrenaline as she leaned into Rowan’s kiss, the hungry way he devoured her lips sending waves of heat pulsing through her body, setting her core throbbing. She could feel her thong starting to soak through just from the rush of this fiery kiss, from the way Rowan’s big, rough chef’s hands kneaded her breasts, working the flesh through her shirt and the flimsy little bra she was wearing. 

A hoarse, garbled moan escaped her as Rowan tangled his fingers into her hair, tilting her head back against the door so he could slide his lips down the column of her throat, having enough foresight not to leave any marks. Though a part of her really fucking wanted him to leave marks. 

Gods, she had it so bad. 

“Rowan!” she gasped as his tattooed hand--fuck, she hadn’t noticed how extensive that tattoo of his was--slipped brazenly into her leggings, cupping her center through her panties. 

He smirked darkly against her neck, two fingers stroking lazily up her core, his breath shaking as he discovered just how wet she was. “All for me, baby?” he murmured into her ear, the low roughness of his voice only making her wetter. And damn the man, he noticed, his smirk growing. “Use your words,” he commanded, his fingers brushing oh so close to her clit but never actually touching where she wanted him the most. 

“Yes,” she whispered, her hips involuntarily bucking into his touch. “Gods, fuck, yes, Chef.” She didn’t fucking know why she called him Chef, but as she felt his arousal pressing against her, she sure as hell wasn’t complaining. 

“Keep calling me that, baby,” Rowan all but growled, crashing his lips back against hers. “And you’ll have to keep quiet.” 

She hardly had the time to process what he’d just implied when he shoved her soaked thong aside and plunged one thick finger into her, his thumb finally brushing against her clit, drawing a pattern of circles into the throbbing bud. She moaned into his rough kiss as he pumped his finger, withdrawing it only to replace it with two, crooking them just right. “Fuck, Chef!” she groaned, trembling with the effort of keeping still under the perfect, perfect sensation of this man, whom she barely knew, touching her just the way she craved. 

He kissed her throat, teeth nipping at her skin just softly enough not to leave marks. “You like that, baby?” 

“Yes,” she moaned, her vocabulary very quickly regressing to “yes,” “Chef,” various expletives, and “Rowan.” 

Rowan’s fingers moved faster when she breathed his name, his rough pace and the lovely, absolutely filthy things he whispered against her neck sending her hurtling into sudden climax, her walls clenching around his fingers. 

He swore he almost came in his pants right there as she softly moaned his name, muffling her cries like the good girl he knew she was. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to take her home and hear all of her noises unhindered. 

“Good girl,” he murmured into her ear, relishing in the way her whole body shuddered at the praise. He withdrew his fingers, groaning at the way her arousal coated his hand, lifted his fingers to his mouth, and licked them clean. His eyes, already blown out with desire, went nearly black as he tasted her, sucking his own fingers clean. Knitting his free hand back into her hair, he kissed her fiercely, making her taste herself on his tongue. 

Aelin started to slide down the door to return the favor, but he stopped her, his hands surprisingly gentle as he placed her back on her feet, shaking his head. “I want to,” she breathed. “Please, Rowan. Chef.” 

“Not now,” he murmured. “If I’m not inside you in the next thirty seconds, I think I’m actually going to die.” 

She couldn’t contain her grin at that. 

He, of course, noticed. “Sass, baby?” His lips brushed the corner of her jaw and she shivered as she felt him sliding his pants down enough for his hard cock to spring out and press against her, his breath fanning hot on her skin. “I’ll have to fuck that out of you, won’t I?” 

A whimpering moan was her only answer as fresh arousal rushed through her, definitely ruining her panties. He just chuckled, the dark sound rumbling around the bathroom. Then he looked into her eyes, confirming that she was ready, lined himself up, and slid into her. And in. And in. She was shuddering, walls fluttering around him, as he bottomed out, giving her a moment to adjust before rolling his hips into hers. She met his motions, her hands gripping his shoulders with a surprising amount of strength as he thrust into her, their moans and gasps mingling. 

“Close,” she whimpered. “Please, chef. Please.” 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he purred, one hand sliding between them to play with her clit, just what she needed to tumble headlong into another orgasm, her tight heat clenching around him and sending him spilling into her. “Good girl,” he panted as their bodies stilled, pulling out and tucking himself back into his pants before getting some wet towels to clean her up. 

“You did so well for me,” he praised, tossing the dirty towels in the trash. 

“This...” Aelin trailed off, flushing a little as she righted her clothes. “This won’t affect the class in any way?” 

“Besides me not being able to keep my eyes off you, baby?” He shook his head, sincerity on his face. “No. I promise it won’t.” 

“Thank you,” she said softly. “Really, Rowan. Thank you.” 

He kissed her cheek, the gesture shockingly tender. “See you...um, around?” He scratched the back of his neck a little awkwardly. 

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138 notes - Posted June 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Prompt!

Aelin's horrible at cooking so when Aedion makes a bet that she can't learn how to cook in a month. So she starts going to cooking classes and the chef is Rowan

let me tell you, Rowan with a chef's knife took my mind in a whole new direction *facepalm* why am I like this?? thank you for the prompt!!! <3   

word count: 1,738

warnings: language, suggestive content

enjoy 😏😏

Chaos In The Kitchen

“Fucking hell, Ae!” Aedion cried, waving his hands in front of his face in a futile effort to dissipate the cloud of smoke filling the kitchen. “Are you trying to burn down the fucking house?” 

“No!” Aelin shrieked, stabbing at the smoke detector until it stopped beeping and running to open the kitchen window. “I’m trying to make fucking breakfast!” 

Aedion raised one blonde brow at the blackened remains of bacon in the frying pan atop the stove. “You forget about the bacon or something?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” she groaned, swatting him with a dish towel. “I did not forget, I was watching it closely while I mixed up the pancake batter.” 

“And you turned away for one second and the bacon was smoking?” 

“Asshole,” she grumbled. “No. I watched it, and then the piece of shit started sending up smoke.” 

Her cousin doubled over, wheezing with laughter. “Only you, Ae,” he managed to gasp between guffaws. “Only you.” 

“Asshole,” she repeated, laughing a little, wryly, herself. “I’m trying my best, Aeds. It doesn’t look like it, but I am.” 

“You’re chaos in the kitchen, Ae,” Aedion grinned, slinging his arm around her shoulders. “I would pay to see the day where you manage to cook something without setting off the smoke detector.” 

“Would you?” Sly challenge sparked in her eyes. 

“Oh, for damn sure.” Aedion met her challenging gaze, wicked glee in his eyes. “In fact, let’s make a bet on it.” 

Internally, Aelin groaned. The last bet she’d taken with her cousin had ended in her hair being dyed bright green for a month, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to accept another of his lopsided wagers. “And just what kind of sure-win bullshit are you thinking of, Aeds?” 

“I bet that you could take cooking classes for a month and still not know how to cook,” he smirked. “You win, I’ll pay for the lessons and shut up about you in the kitchen. I win, you have to go out with my friend.” His smirk grew. “So, do we have a bet?” 

She raised her brows. “Define ‘knowing how to cook,’ oh wiseass cousin of mine.” 

“You don’t set off the smoke detector and the food is edible.” 

“And the friend?” 

He clicked his tongue. “Mmm-mmm, Ae. Blind date.” 

Aelin tilted her head, considering. Aedion paying for her to take cooking lessons...and shutting the hell up about her ineptitude in the kitchen...or a blind date with a friend of his? How could she possibly lose? “Fine. We have a bet.” She clasped his hand and shook, sealing it. “Same rules as always, Aeds?” 

“Yep.” He winked. “No sabotage and no finding out about the other person’s consequences.” 

“Right.” Aelin smirked at her smug cousin. “It’s a bet.” 

~

Three hundred fucking dollars, Aelin grumbled to herself as she locked up her car and headed across the parking lot, and they couldn’t be bothered to give us basic cooking stuff? She checked her bag once more to make doubly sure she had all the things they’d told her to bring when she registered for these classes. A couple of wooden spoons, a whisk, a couple of spatulas, a set of measuring cups, and her own apron. Bloody cheap, it was. At least she was hopeful that she’s get her money’s worth, because she’d spent a ridiculously long time looking up all the available cooking classes in Orynth and reading the reviews to be sure she’d actually learn something. 

No way in hell was Aedion winning this damn bet. 

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153 notes - Posted June 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[goblinselfshippr]

forbidden...forbidden FIVE? how do you have at least five exes already? (this isn't judgment, this is amazement. i'm genuinely shocked.)

If it makes you feel any better, anon, at least 4 of them were abusive and 7/10 of them cheated on me lol I have some absurd real life dating stories and if I said they didn’t influence my selfship scenarios, I would be lying. I’ve been single for like 3 years now though.

Full disclosure, I’ve dated ten ish people (depending on what you count as dating), and been engaged not once, not twice, but THRICE. And 2/3 times they basically just threw the ring at me and were like “we’re engaged now” basically. The trick is that nobody lasts longer than 6 months on average, and I was way desperate for affection when I was a teenager. Because of my area and family, I was fully CONVINCED I was going to be married at like 18 (shit, everyone I knew from high school is. With kids at this point, PLURAL. Which blows my mind every time). And then I turned 18 and was on some serious crunch time thinking like “if I am not married in the next three years, my life is fucking OVER.” I mostly got over it, the disappointment is still pretty fresh though.

I’m not like super smooth or anything, my “dating strategy” if you can even call it that, was basically asking myself “are they nice to me? Do they like the same weird niche stuff I do?” And then I’d just let them disrespect my boundaries for a little while +became their golden retriever friend while I worked up the courage to ask them out. Usually they said yes because it was convenient and used me to make the person they really liked jealous. Or I’d eventually come to my senses and get fed up with them using me + break up. I can’t recommend this.

No one’s asked me out before, and I’ve only been seriously flirted with once. I’ve never been on a real date that wasn’t like sitting in someone’s car or dirty bedroom, I’ve never had a valentine or any other holiday celebration with a partner, I’ve never gotten flowers before, or had anything planned for me. I’m still really inexperienced with most stuff in “normal” dating.

H j h j suhc sudh feel free to ask any questions related to this if you want, I thought this was fun

#lmao this is my hidden level 5 backstory #I dont mind talking about this stuff or anything; I’ve acknowledged that irl people wont cherish me as much as my f/os will #plus some of it is funny (to me at least) #goblinanswers #not selfship #long post

[romantic-flora]

TIME FOR ANOTHER LONG ONE

Buckle up ladies, gaydies, & theydies, cause Flora's a LITTLE MAD today.

You may have seen my post about River recently. Well I still haven't heard from her but this isn't a tea update I just have A LOT OF FEELINGS about this situation.

So sit down, shut up, and open your ears to one autistic motherfucker raging about social queues.

Like I said before my date with River was probably the best first date I've ever been on. No actually is FOR SURE was. The conversation and flirting had so much chemistry - we couldn't wait two hours to kiss, we had to get it out of the way at the table. She was just the right amount of forward to be exciting but not overwhelming. The dom/sub dynamic flipped back and forth too many times to count and both of us loved being on both sides. And we're not even talking abut the sex yet (it was fantastic too). We share so many interests and she's a more-than-casual enjoyer of my *special interests* so it didn't feel awkward devoting a huge part of our conversation to them.

She read me so thoroughly and clearly - even with Luna, sometimes I feel like they can't quite grapple the way that I think (head full v head empty), but River consistently helped me finish thoughts that I was having trouble articulating and explicitly enjoyed it. There's a deep satisfaction to be found in being able to reach the same conclusion as someone without having to say all the words - for those of us who have brains that move way faster than our bodies. On top of which, River has been in a relationship with a transgirl before, so I didn't have to worry about answering questions or doing simple education.

She's brilliant. I say that in no attempt to hyperbolize. As someone who begrudgingly accepts the title of genius autism (I got both Smart Girl & Obsessed With Dumb Shit Girl versions in roughly equal measure hahaHAHA FUCK) I find it very difficult to connect with people to don't match me intellectually. This isn't a flex, it's alienating. I just can't be engaged in a conversation where I'm never being surprised or interested by the other person's thought process. Believe me, if I could go back to the start and reroll my stats, I would fucking bottom out intelligence. River, as I've probably made clear already, can more than keep up. I love playing word games over text, in person, as flirting etc - so to sit down with someone who has a degree in linguistics??? Come on. The whole experience was just so deeply refreshing and entertaining.

And I THOUGHT I was talking to someone super emotionally mature and interested in getting ahead of possible hurdles. We had already been discussing our second date before going on our first. She brought up dating goals, and I said I was looking for some emotional and intellectual fulfillment. She said she'd been out of a long term relationship for 6 months and wasn't looking for anything serious right now... but... that we had clicked way more than she was expecting to with anyone and she could see it going somewhere. I said we should keep things chill for now then & have another conversation about it after a few more dates. Seems good right? Being upfront about expectations and comfortable discussing feelings???

WELL I GUESS NOT. After a few more drinks we went to my place and had sex. She stuck around for a few hours of chat & cuddling after. I paid for her uber home - she had a job interview the next morning. She sent me a few texts on the way, and a cute goodnight message when she got home.

I simply cannot put into words how excited I was to have someone I didn't have to compromise on any of my standards for. AND she's super into me in return??? Too good to be true.

It's been 4 days and I haven't heard from her. I'm not blocked. She read my first couple messages (I've sent...3? & a post). She's pretty offline in general, she has ADHD, and I knew she had plans this week.

Luna says to give an ADHDer a week and to not assume anything until then. I'm struggling with that because for the three days prior to our date, our communication was very consistent. Easily hundreds of messages per day. And I knoooowwwww that's because I was top of mind.

Bottom line I have no idea what's going on, & everyone is telling me to be patient. It's a slow sinking feeling though, as with every hour a bit more hope slips away. I'm really hoping we'll bump into each other at an event tomorrow & I can get a better picture.

______________________________________________________________

Time to talk about my feelings. Gross, I know.

I cannot help but feel frustrated. Lack of resolution to situations drives my anxiety I N S A N E. I cannot help but assume the worst. The timing is very conspicuous. I'm used to Luna going dark for a few days at a time when they get busy, but RIGHT AFTER our first date doesn't feel neutral, it feels intentional.

The way I see it, there are two things that could be happening, if it's not forgetfulness.

River lied to me. About all of this special/different shit, so that she could fuck me. I would have said no to a hookup - the only reason I wanted to have sex was because I thought we were going to keep seeing each other. I might be a slut, but I'm a slut with desires. We had originally said we weren't going to hookup on our first date... Some would say if you're having that conversation ahead of time, you're definitely going to. We were both just so excited and into it. I don't think River is the kind of person to do this, but ALSO she's a stranger I met on the internet a week ago, she could be lying about anything. This option makes me quite upset, but it's easier to process because the rational outcome is anger. Anger doesn't make me anxious, I can handle it. So I'm having a couple days for feral girl rage while I wait out Luna's recommended waiting period.

It was too much too soon & she got scared. That I can absolutely understand - I would want to talk and settle that in a mature way that keeps us talking. If she just got too excited and the sex was more than she wanted in retrospect I totally get it. But WHY aren't you talking to me? Is this how allistic people deal with discomfort? Just walk away from it? From a really really good thing? That's BAFFLING I simply cannot comprehend the thought process. I've ghosted people before, but only people that I've had like one mediocre conversation with, I could NEVER do it to someone I actually liked. And if I had FEELINGS for that person... even if you're not comfortable pursuing them right now, why would you throw away that option??? I am filled with such tumult at the thought that she could HAVE feelings and be CHOOSING to avoid me. That's so terribly anxiety inducing. I just want things between us to be stable and comfortable, we can take a step back, we don't have to have sex until you're ready, we don't even have to see each other that much, just TALK TO ME.

River. We could be so fucking good together. Now or whenever you're ready. I'll wait if you want me to. Just don't leave me in the dark. I think you were being honest when you told me you had an amazing time. I don't want to believe you're a liar. I'm going to pretend to be mad so that I'm not anxious, but whether it's good for me or not, the second you text me, I'm going to be so relieved and understanding of whatever you say.

Unless it's something I have failed to consider. This is a tangent, but I'm so sick of having to be the Bigger Person. I get upset about things. I deserve apologies. As much as anyone else. Fucking annoying how being mature makes you kind of powerless in relationship dynamics. Maybe I need to be less desperate and set some better boundaries. In fact I know that's true. But I also have a larger underlying issue, one that River articulated to me more clearly than I had thought about it. I like to talk to people close to me about my achievements, small and large, I like praise and I like to show off a little bit - my ego comes from the fact that I don't get the praise I need from the people I want. And I'm not sure how to solve that problem without filling my inner circle with people who appreciate me more. If you have any tips on how to not desire praise, let me know I guess? And none of this "you only need your own praise" stuff - I already think I'm the greatest <3

Well no poetic ending to this one. I'll update after the event tomorrow on whether River shows her (beautiful) face.

Smitten & hopeful,

Flora

[ilici]

a night to remember.

Summary: After a long 4 months of just bickering, they finally decide to meet up. (Second part to 'Pretty Little Lies')

NSFW MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: Choking, cockwarming, hair pulling.

Word Count: 2892

Dream had enough of the two bickering at each other, he finally slammed his desk with his hand, making the two come to a halt. “Will you two fucking shut the hell up?” He asked annoyed, and Y/N just scoffed while looking away from the screen. “You two have reached my breaking point.” He said, seeing George just look away and Y/N discord icon stop glowing green besides the few shuffling coming from her side. “All you two do now is just bicker, we get it you guys have sexual tension but for the love of God, please just shut the fuck up.” He begged, while George’s ears burned at the mention of sexual tension. Opening his mouth to speak, nothing came out as Y/N was the first to speak up, “If I buy a plane ticket to go and visit the UK will that help you?” She asked sarcastically, and Dream sighed in relief, “Yes! Yes it fucking would!” he said loudly, while Sapnap just listened in noting to himself that he saw George’s eyes light up at the thought of Y/N visiting him. “I was joking but sheesh fine, I will.” She mumbled, and George looked between the sleeping Dream icon, and the Coraline icon that belonged to Y/N.

“Do I not have a say in this?” George finally spoke up, and raised an eyebrow that disappeared behind his long hair. Sapnap now laughed dryly, “Don’t act as if you didn’t enjoy the idea of Y/N coming to you, you know damn well your eyes lit up at the mention of it.” He said, and George just shrunk down in defeat while Dream laughed at the boy’s reaction. “There I bought the plane ticket.” She said, and they heard a ding indicating someone had joined the call, “Why the fuck did I just get a message saying I bought a plane ticket to the UK?” Quackity asked, and Y/N laughed loudly, “It’s for me but I used your money since you owed me anyways.” She told him, while Quackity just stared at his screen in shock. “That’s it I’m leaving.” He said, leaving the call right afterwards. George was now silent, and playing with the strings on his hoodie, “How long will you be staying?” Sapnap asked, and Y/N hummed leaning closer to her mic, “About three months, I want to meet everyone else, not just George here.”

Nodding, Sapnap seemed satisfied with the answer, “Wear protection.” Dream said, and George snapped his gaze up looking back at the screen, “Shut up.” He muttered, embarrassed while Y/N just laughed to cover up the fact that she too was embarrassed. “Well, I leave for the UK in two days, I still have to find a place to stay.” She explained, and George rubbed his chin before he came to a decision in his head, “You can stay with me, I recently moved into an apartment that has two rooms, you can stay in there. Although I won’t be home until later when you arrive mainly because I’ll be recording a video with Tommy and Phil.” He told Y/N, and she just listened, “Alright, then that’s settled.” She said before she grew confused, “How will I get to the house?” She asked and George shrugged, “I could have Tommy and his dad pick you up when he comes to pick me up.” He said, and Y/N nodded even though no one could see her. 

“Sounds good to me.” She said, “Well I will arrive around 9 am, so.” She muttered, looking at her phone, “That’s perfect because Tommy said he’d be around at my apartment at 9:30, and the airport is only a 20 minute drive away.” He informed her, and she nodded, shooting Tommy a quick text and telling him to keep it under wraps since he was streaming. The other two in the call were silent, enjoying the time where George and Y/N weren’t arguing. “Well I better go, I need to go pack and I also need to fix my sleep schedule.” She sighed out, before saying her goodbye’s. Leaving the call, everything hit her like a brick. She was going to leave to see George in two days. Hearing her phone ring, she saw Sapnap was calling her, answering it she put it on speaker so she could hear him while she got ready to pack. “Hey Sap.” She said, and Sapnap greeted her back, “I was wondering if I could see your face before you leave to see George.” He asked, in a very rushed way which was difficult for Y/N to keep up with.

Laughing to herself, she shrugged as Sapnap was one of her best friends and she planned on face revealing to him anyway. Clicking the FaceTime option, she propped her phone up so he could see her packing. Sapnap answered it, only showing half of his face, before his eyes widened at Y/N. She changed a bit from what George had described four months prior, “Wow, George was right. You are hot.” He said, and Y/N laughed, “Although you look a bit different apparently.” He said trying to pinpoint what looked different on her, “Oh, my hair is longer and I also dyed the the underneath of my hair.” She told him, and he nodded noting that her hair did look different from what George said. “Are you nervous?” He asked her, trying to keep the conversation going and Y/N shrugged, “A bit, mainly because I feel like when we meet things will be awkward, and we will manage to argue.” She said, while Sapnap just nodded in understanding.

“Well, if you ask me, I think meeting Tommy is going to be worse, mainly because he get’s to see your face.” He told her, and Y/N grimaced at the thought of the loud child bragging about seeing her face. “Don’t remind me.” She grumbled, while Sapnap laughed at her reaction, “Well, that’s all I need to pack.” She said after a three hour long call with her friend. “I’ll see you later, sleep well.” Sapnap said, before ending the call leaving Y/N to her own thoughts. Shooting Dream a text, asking her for advice that she’d read when she woke up. Sighing, she laid down in bed looking up at her ceiling that seemed bare to her now ever since she took off the stars. “God why did I do this?” She muttered to herself, covering her eyes with her arm before drifting off to sleep.

Finally, it was the day she was leaving for the UK. She was at the airport with her two suitcases waiting to board the plane. She had coffee in her hand as it was super early for her, and she was on call with Callahan who didn’t speak back but would text responses in return. “Callahan, I board in seven minutes holy shit.” She said, starting to panic a little, and Callahan quickly tried to calm her down making some typos along the way. “Okay I can do this.” She whispered to herself, and Callahan sent a message telling her that she’d be alright and he’d be here for her when she landed. Callahan planned on staying on the call, even though he’d be left alone for some hours. Their plan was as soon as she lands, she’d join the call and let him know she had landed. Thankfully he’d be awake as he was busy coding stuff for the new manhunt. “Well that’s my plane, I’ll see you after I land.” She told him, and he sent a quick goodbye before she left the call.

Y/N got on the plane and decided she’d sleep the entire plane ride. She had thankfully gotten first class, so she had privacy. Reclining back, she put on the movie that seemed least interesting so she wouldn’t get engaged in it. Shortly falling asleep, she woke up a couple times and would restart the movie if it had ended. Finally, after what seemed like days she finally heard the voice saying they were landing. Stretching she groaned hearing her body crack, and got up when they officially landed. Walking out and going to get her luggage, she went to get something to eat and a drink She joined the call back to see that Karl was also in the call along with Dream. “Hey guys, I landed.” She spoke up, and she got a response from Callahan first, and Karl soon unmuted, “That’s good, I hope things go well.” He said, while Dream finally unmuted, “I was about to head to bed, but I’m glad you made it safely.” He said, before he muted again going back to whatever it was he was doing. Karl and Y/N spoke for a bit, till she got a message from Tommy saying he was here. 

Leaving the call, she walked out and looked around for the tall teenager, and finally spotted him looking at his phone with his face covered by a mask. “Hello Tommy.” She said, and Tommy looked up from his phone, seeing the girl approach him without a mask, figuring it was because she had food and a drink. Walking over to her, he pulled her into a hug, “Hello Y/N, I can’t wait to brag to George that I met you before him.” He said while the girl rolled her eyes, as someone grabbed her luggage that she was struggling to bring as her hands were full from the drink and food. “I bet.” She said, and they all got into his car, as she was full on jet lagged. “You can sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.” The older male spoke up, and she thanked him, closing her eyes to let the sleep consume her. Feeling herself being picked up, she groaned a bit but kept her eyes closed wanting to go back to sleep.

Hearing muffled voices she could decipher some of the sentences, but the rest were just gibberish to her, “Let her sleep, I’ll wake her up when I get back.” She heard someone say, before she fell back asleep. George looked down at the sleeping girl and rolled his eyes, “First day here and she’s already getting treated like a princess.” He muttered under his breath sarcastically, as he had to carry her into the guest room. Getting up and leaving, he couldn’t help but think of what was to come. After 6 hours of hanging out, George walked into his apartment, and was shocked to see Y/N on the couch watching some random movie. “Hello Georgie.” She spoke, and George just looked at her, “Seems like you’ve made yourself at home.” He said walking over to the couch and sat down beside her, keeping his distance. Y/N looked over at him and her lips tugged up into a smirk, “What are you smirking about?” George asked, looking over at her.

“A little birdie told me that you said you’d give me a night to remember.” She told him, and George froze before he looked over at her once more, “I’m going to kill Sapnap.” He said gritting his teeth, and Y/N shrugged, turning her attention to the movie. “Why don’t you give me a night to remember then Georgie? Hm?” George now clenched his jaw as he turned his head grabbing Y/N’s jaw forcefully making her look over at him. “Someone’s being a bit cocky.” George said, and Y/N just looked at him and groaned when George moved his hand down wrapping it around her neck. “Not so cocky now, are we?” He teased, leaning forwards and chuckled into her ear. Y/N was genuinely shocked at how quick he switched. “It’s the first day, and you’re already wanting me to fuck the shit out of you.” He mumbled, and Y/N shivered, letting out a soft whine.

“Don’t act like you don’t want to.” She bit back, and George just looked at her before laughing dryly, “Who said I don’t want to?” He told her, as he grabbed some of her hair, forcing her head to lean back. Tightening his grip around her neck she whimpered out, and closed her eyes, clenching her thighs together. George noticed this and smirked, “Someone’s enjoying this.” He said, and Y/N was about to let out some curses but she bit her tongue to hold herself back. Moving his hand away from her throat, he started unbuckling his belt while Y/N watched him in a daze. “Stop staring and strip.” He demanded and Y/N immediately obeyed, stripping off her clothes. George looked at her body, and he bit his lips, “Come on then.” He said patting his now bare lap and Y/N quickly straddled his lap. 

“Since you’ve been so rude every time we talk, maybe it’s time I fuck some sense into you.” George whispered to her, as he grabbed her hips lifting her up so she could easily slide down onto his dick. “You’re on the pill right?” He asked, and Y/N just nodded her head, before she let out a loud moan at the feeling of George stretching her out. He leaned his head back, letting out a slight groan at the feeling. Tightening his grip on her hips when she tried to, she groaned, “Why?” She whined, and George just leaned forward moving her hair out of the way as he kissed the back of her neck, “You are to stay like this until I feel like fucking you.” He told her, and Y/N shivered at the kiss only listening because she enjoyed this feeling. “Such a good girl, I figured you would be a brat since you act like one.” His voice rang through her mind, and Y/N just whimpered leaning her head back on his shoulder.

“George, please I can’t wait any longer.” She begged, and George just smirked before he lifted her off of him, and threw her on the other side of his couch. Y/N yelped as she was thrown, before she had the chance to raise up George had a hold of her hips making her ass stick up in the air. Pushing down on her back so she was perfectly arching her back, he was holding onto her hips making sure he left bruises. Slamming into her, Y/N moaned out loudly, gripping one of the stray pillows that was near her. Biting her bottom lip, George kept relentlessly pounding into her while Y/N was now a blabbering mess. George enjoyed this as he reached forwards grabbing a handful of her hair and tugged on it. “You look so beautiful like this, so sweaty for me.” He teased, while Y/N just let out an incoherent ‘fuck you’. 

Not liking this, George brought his hand up and slammed it down onto her ass. Letting out a small scream, Y/N felt herself grow closer, and George reached around now toying with her clit. He himself was feeling close to his climax, and Y/N could tell from how sloppy his thrusts were getting. Using the hand that had her hair in it, he moved his hand up grabbing her neck bringing her up so she was against his chest. “Fuck George-” She muttered, leaning her head back against George’s shoulder much like earlier. George gave sloppy kisses along her jawline and neck, as they both let out a loud groan. Y/N mumbled words, and George let out a quick, “Fuck” as they both felt themself cum. Pulling out, George watched as some of it leaked out and onto her thighs.

Wiping away the sweat that was on his forehead, he picked her up, “Have you seen the bathroom?” He asked Y/N, who only shook her head, “You’re about to see it now.” He told her as the two made their way into the bathroom. It had a shower, and a bathtub, “Pick which one.” He told her, and Y/N looked between both and pointed to the tub, “I would’ve chosen the shower if it weren’t for how my legs could give out at any moment.” She whispered embarrassed, and George chuckled as he sat her down on the side of the tub, her feet in the tub. “Let me how you want the water to feel.” He said, turning it on and Y/N waited till it felt good, and she nodded, “That’s good.” She said, as she sunk down into the tub.

George smiled at her, as he went over to the cabinet under the sink to grab the bubble mixture. Pouring some into the water, he watched as Y/N mixed it around which formed bubbles. Sinking down into the water, he brought Y/N over to his body, and let her relax against him. “Don’t tell Dream or Sapnap, they had a bet. I really don’t want to lose.” He said, while Y/N lightly laughed at his words, as he massaged her shoulders. “I’m still going to be here for 3 more months, so they are bound to know it happened at one point.” She shrugged, and George hummed in agreement.

#georgenotfound #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound imagine #georgenotfound smut #mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader #mcyt smut

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

#smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

[highdramas]

the billboard said the end is near | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: language, possible tfatws spoilers, canon typical violence, bucky is soft and loves his doll and will do anything to keep her safe

word count: 2184

summary: bucky is protective over what has given him solace.

note: here's tawlb part 4! you don’t have to read these in order, they stand independently, but they do all work together! PLEASE leave feedback/reblog! this is extremely helpful for me writing future parts to know what everyone likes or doesn’t like!

enjoy! <3

chaos has always controlled your life.

in all of the best ways, and all of the worst ones, too. in the best ways, it has allowed you to not take life too seriously. it has allowed you to let things roll off your shoulders and keep your easy breezy demeanor. you like to think that you don’t allow the little things to affect you-- you also note that it’s because the big things have been so all consuming.

who knew that turning to dust for five years would turn your life into such a shit show?

the five years hadn’t felt like five years to you at all. it felt like one day, you had been laying on your couch watching tv, and then five years later you were appearing in someone else’s apartment. all of your things, gone.

you will never forget their screams as they watched you materialize from nothing.

of course, you can’t blame them. and it wasn’t just this apartment. the screams and the chaos broke through the entire building. people busting from doors, crying and scrambling to use their cell phones, to see if this was really happening.

the couple that had moved into your apartment after you dusted had been kind, all things considered. the woman had held you and you could feel her crying and she kept saying do you have family? do you know their numbers?

finally, you couldn’t help yourself. you had asked, “what happened to me?”

“you’ve been gone for five years, honey.”

these sorts of revelations had ruled your life for the months since you came back.

like when you called your boyfriend only to find out that he was engaged.

like when you found out that you certainly didn’t have a job anymore.

like when you found out that you had no apartment, no savings, no anything. nothing left.

it has been over a year since the blip and you are still feeling the repercussions from it. you are still feeling the hurt of having your life upended, you are still feeling the hurt of missing a life that went on without you. it’s hard not to daydream about what could’ve been. what could’ve stayed the same.

then bucky looks at you, and you’re reminded that not all change is bad.

change is hard but you know that he kisses you and it makes your brain fuzzy, he lays you back on your mattress and he stays with you until the sun rises. change is hard but you introduce him as my boyfriend, james to every new person you meet and you watch as he smiles and pride lingers in his eyes and he carefully places his arm around your shoulders. change is hard but he doesn’t wear the gloves around you anymore.

change is hard, but bucky is better than any of it.

he’s been gone more than normal lately.

of course, you understand. and, really, you think it might be good for him. not the fighting-- while you understand the benefit it has for him, the purpose that it gives him, that’s not the thing that you believe serves him best. no, it is sam. it is sam’s family. it is knowing that there are other people out there in the world who are looking at him the same way that you look at him.

okay, maybe not exactly the same.

bucky had sent you a text from that stupid dinky flip phone that morning, saying that he would be home that night. the implications go unsaid.

you and the winter soldier have formed quite the routine-- he has a key to your apartment on his keyring (it’s a disney princess key. it’s the only spare that you had, and the laughter that erupted from you had made him relent in trying to barter for the cat printed key you have). he’s going to let himself in, probably around ten. you’ll already have the chinese takeout spread out on the table. you’ll spread your arms out and do little jazz hands towards the food and you’ll say, “ta-da.”

and you will watch as the tension in his shoulders starts to ease and he sets his duffel bag down in your entryway and he will cross the room to you. his arms will snake around your waist and his face will be buried into the crook of your neck. he will sigh and you will stroke his hair and you will say, “welcome home, buck.”

but now, it is nine. it is nine and you are curled up on your couch and kitty rests in your lap and you feel yourself growing antsy waiting for bucky to come home. she looks up at you and lets out that little trill as you scratch her head and you smile.

the smiling doesn’t last long.

the building that you and bucky live in is not swanky by any means. it was built in the 40s, with creaky floors and ugly carpeted hallways. the walls are thin and you can hear everything-- really, everything. and the shouting and commotion is certainly not typical.

you move to stand just as the door bursts--or explodes, you’re not sure which is the better word-- open. a scream leaves your lips and you hold onto your cat for dear life, scrambling back into your bedroom and clicking the door behind you. your limbs are shaking and you nearly trip over your dresser and your cat nearly claws your arm off.

you hear bucky before you see him.

“you really think i wasn’t gonna find out about this little stunt?” you’ve never heard his voice like this-- so low, so full of absolute rage. “you’re out of your fucking mind.”

the other person is stammering and though you don’t see the blow that bucky lands on their face, you do hear the aftermath. bucky is talking to someone and you finally set your cat down and you hear bucky on the other side of the door. “doll, it’s me.”

you open the door and look at him with a pounding heart and shaking hands. he looks just as shaken, but more than that-- he’s angry. his fists are clenched at his sides. “buck--” you lay a hand on your chest and you try to gain control of your breathing and you can see that he is doing the same. “what happened?”

bucky hesitates. you watch the gears turning in his head, and it makes your head tilt to the side. “bucky, i’m not kidding-- tell me.”

“we were on our way back and sam got a tip from torres that the flag smashers were--” he cringes even at the thought and he shakes his head. “they were going to try and--”

you watch as he struggles to say it, to really say it, and you touch his face. the touch seems to open him up. his hand takes your wrist and he rubs his thumb along the bone. “they wanted to take you as a hostage.”

a hostage.

bucky opens his mouth to say something else as you blink, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that someone wanted to take you as a hostage, but sam interrupts him. “sharon’s got the guy in cuffs downstairs,” he says in your doorway. when you look, you can see that a mess has been made of your living room-- and not the sort of mess that you create. no, it is a mess of destruction and chaos. “i’m gonna head out. call me if you need anything, i’m staying in town.”

bucky nods and you muster up your best smile to sam and then you look at bucky and you say quietly, “can we go to your apartment?”

he nods and you scoop up kitty and you pad down the hall beside him, still in your loungewear and fuzzy socks. you notice that he constantly keeps a hand on you. whether it’s his fingers tangling with yours or his arm around your shoulders or his palm pressed into the small of your back-- you know exactly what it is that he’s doing, and you lean into every touch, hoping that the contact whispers i’m here, i’m here, i’m here, and you are not losing me.

kitty drops to the floor and, surprisingly, it’s bucky that speaks before you do. “you’re gonna move in here. with me.” he stares at you firmly. “i’m gonna make sure that you’re safe. and the safest place you can be is with me.”

you open your mouth to reply but he continues. “i can’t--” you watch the gears in his head turning, the scenarios turning over and over and over again in his mind. “i can’t lose you.”

“buck…” you move over to him and you place your hands on his face. his eyes are fixed on the wall behind your head, and you watch as guilt overcomes him and you can practically hear him saying if i hadn’t been there in time… “bucky, you’re not going to.”

you feel his hands fist into the material of your t shirt and he holds you even closer. “i’ll move in with you,” you finally whisper against the stubble of his jaw. “and not just for safety. because i want to live with you.”

bucky pulls away and he looks at you with a wobbling lip and you shush him. “i’m okay,” you whisper and you lean your forehead on his. “i’m okay, and i’m here, and i’m staying.”

“okay.”

his hand caresses the back of your head and you touch the place where his heart is. you watch his shoulders rise and fall, you watch his eyes flutter shut and you see some of the tension finally seep out of his pores. he opens his eyes at you and he looks so tired.

“i sleep on the floor,” he blurts it as he pulls away slightly. for a moment, it looks like he regrets it, the way that he winces slightly. “i don’t like… i don’t like sleeping in the bed. it’s too… soft. i always slept in your bed when i stayed over because i didn’t want you to wake up and i wasn’t there.”

“bucky…” you lean into every single place that he touches. “i’ll sleep on the floor with you.”

an incredulous sort of laugh leaves bucky as he stares down at you. he shakes his head a bit. “i don’t want you to do that.”

“i don’t care,” you say with a steely resolve and confident defiance, jutting your chin up at him. “because i’m sleeping next to you. tonight, and every night after. i don’t care where. i’ll never care where.”

bucky’s exhale is shaky and broad arms encircle your waist entirely, drawing you in closer and closer. his face presses into your neck, the exact way that you had imagined him coming home to you hours earlier. you can feel his lips pressing into your skin, can feel the sheer need in it. “i don’t deserve you,” every movement of his lips against your neck is entirely felt, sending sparks through your limbs. “i don’t know what i did to get this lucky.”

“shh,” you rake your fingernails down his scalp and you can feel his fingers gripping you tighter. “if you say that stupid shit again, i’ll kill you. you deserve me.” you tap his chin and he fixes his gaze on you. “and i deserve you. we deserve each other. we deserve to be happy. together. and i’m tired of people thinking otherwise.”

bucky finally cracks a smile. “you’re very stubborn.”

“i thought you liked that about me.”

“i love that about you.” he takes a beat. “among other things.”

you bite down on your lip and finally lean up on your tiptoes. “i promise i’ll be a good roommate.”

“that’s bullshit,” he says and his hands find the curve of your waist once more, traveling to your hips. “i’m going to be cleaning up after you every damn day.”

“yeah, probably.” your hand goes to the back of his head. “it will feel safe. staying here.”

bucky’s nose trails up the side of your face. “good.” he presses his lips to your jaw. “i’m sorry about your apartment. that fucker would’ve been dead if you weren’t there.” he grows more serious again. “i would never let anyone get away with anything like that. i will never let it get that far again, doll. i swear to god.”

“bucky,” you breathe. “i know. it’s okay.” you take his hand and you pull a few blankets off his couch, toss down a few pillows. “let’s go to sleep.”

there’s a twinkle in his eye as he watches you shuffle around his apartment, putting together a makeshift bed on the floor. you fluff the pillows before setting them down and you give him a smile that tells him everything is going to be alright.

even though he says you moving in is about keeping you safe… he sleeps that night on the hardwood, holding you, and he feels safer too.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes series #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #the world's a little blurry #my writing

[zodiakuroo]

Pretty Things Don’t Need To Think

Kuroo decides he's had enough of his smart, independent girlfriend. He wants her to be his good little housewife instead.

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Fem!Reader

Contains: 18+ oh boy... dubcon, big dick kuroo, dumbifciation, misogyny, manhandling, oral sex (deepthroating), pee in vee sex, degradation, manipulation, pwp, breath play, mouth spitting, creampie, thigh riding, slapping, spit, porn watching, crybaby reader but kuroo is a meanie so :3

Word count: 4.6k

Notes: my first time writing smut n it’s mindlessly self-indulgent i just had this weirdly specific fantasy that i need to get out byeee

Kuroo loved the fact that you were smart. He loved the fact that you could debate and argue with him for hours on the most obscure topics. He love that you were always interested in his nerdy rambles and he found it adorable that you would sometimes go off on your own nerdy rambles. When he met you, he was so used to fucking brainless bimbos that he was surprised to find a girl that he both wanted to sleep with and have a conversation with. Your intellect was one of the many reasons he wanted to pursue a relationship with you beyond sex. One of the many reasons why he planned on marrying you.

Kuroo also loathed the fact that you were smart. Not loathed exactly. He just hated your stupid fucking degree. He hated the fact that it demanded so much of your time and energy that you sometimes had to put your studies before him. You wanted to be doctor, always wanted to apparently. You wanted it so bad he felt a little ashamed for how much it annoyed him.

But he didn’t understand it. You were going to be the wife of Kuroo Tetsurou, President of the Japan Volleyball Association. Is that not enough of an achievement?

 You didn’t seem to think so.

Now Kuroo’s not a misogynist by any means. If he were, he wouldn’t even let you get this stupid degree. He doesn’t want you to be some mindless Stepford Wife who only cooks and cleans and says “Yes, dear” “No, dear.” Of course he believes in equal rights and all that bullshit but he just doesn’t see any reason for you to work. Financially, there’s no need. More importantly, as his wife you would be too busy taking care of him, his home and his children for you to even thinking about having a job. He would let you get this degree purely for you to soothe your own ego, so you could feel like you’ve accomplished something.

And this is the fucking thanks he gets.

Coming home every day to see you hunched over the dining room table, 4 different textbooks open, papers scattered everywhere. He works hard every day to make a comfortable life for the two of you but asking to come home to a clean apartment and dinner on the stove is too much to ask apparently.

You don’t even register that he’s in the room until he places two large warm hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump, quickly soothed with a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hi baby” he mutters against your scalp, gently massaging your shoulders.

“Hmm. Hi Tetsurou.” you turn your head to look at him, eyes bloodshot and bleary from staring at your computer all day.  “How was your day?”

“Same old.” He places a chaste kiss on your lips. “How’s it going here? Are we winning?” He glances at your notes, Intercranial mass lesions. Subarachnoid Haemorrhage. Spontaneous Intracerebral Haemorrhage. He wonders why you do this to yourself. Pretty things like you shouldn’t have to think.

You groan. “Not at all. This neuro final is gonna kick my ass.”

He chuckles, hands gently massaging your shoulders. “You say that every time and every time you ace it baby.”  Instead of asking you where his dinner is, he asks “Have you eaten today? What do you want for dinner?”

“ I’m not hungry Tetsu. You can order whatever you like.” He clenches his jaw in irritation. You can’t even be bothered to give him your full attention for 10 minutes? The man who works so hard so that you can afford to sit at home and study the whole day?

No.

He’ll get your attention one way or another.

“Angel,” he drops his voice an octave or two, leaning down so his mouth is pressed right against the shell of your ear. “How about you take a break yeah? Wanna help you relax.” He starts to kiss your neck. He hears your breath hitch. He’s got you. “You worked so hard today plus I reaaaaally miss you.”

With that he begins to leave wet kisses on your neck, feeling you melt into him. His hands move away from your shoulders, gently groping at your chest.

You suddenly go rigid. “Tetsu, not right now.” He doesn’t want you to know how pissed he is but he can’t help it, he groans in frustration. “I’m sorry,” you mutter weakly “I really need to get through these last 3 chapters.”

“Yeah right. Got it.” He storms off with a huff. He’s furious. Your little studious shtick has been nothing more than an irritation for him. But this is too far. He hasn’t come in a month, since you started prep for finals. You’ve been too busy to take care of him. You suggested porn and he laughed in your face. Why would he jerk off when you have a perfectly good pussy? Don’t be ridiculous.

“Tetsurou don’t be mad please.”

“Not mad baby. Keep studying. That’s important to you right?” He’s not convincing anyone but you don’t have the time or energy to engage.

You let out a heavy sigh before turning back to your laptop, falling back into studying like the whole interaction never happened. It made him even angrier. How you couldn’t care less about him right now.

“Just gonna watch some TV. That okay with you, love?” He says sounding sickly sweet, almost sarcastic. If you notice, you don’t make any mention of it.

“Mmhm. Just keep it down please.” You don’t even bother to fucking look at him. 

You don’t wanna pay attention to him? You want him to just jerk off? Fine then, have it your way. Kuroo throws himself down on the couch as he rips off his tie with a little more force than necessary.

This is petty.

He makes quick work of the buttons of his dress shirt.

This is childish.

He quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls his slacks down just far enough to take his soft dick out of his boxers.

 This is your fault.

 You pushed him to do this.

He takes his phone and uses his internet browser to take him to the first porn site he can think of. He doesn’t really care about the kind of video so “Busty blonde slut gets destroyed” seems like a good a choice as any. He clicks on the video and sets up his phone to mirror on the TV screen. With the volume about as loud as it can go, he presses play.

The loud exaggerated moans and gagging startle you. Your head shoots up and you see your boyfriend, lidded gaze fixed on the flat screen TV in front of him. He’s panting, letting out little moans. You crane your neck to see what he’s watching and you see on the TV a bleach blonde girl with massive tits being an absolute trooper as she gets facefucked relentlessly.

“Kuroo, what the fuck?” God he hates when you call him by his last name mostly because you only do that when you’re really annoyed at him.

“Hm? What is it baby?” Now it’s his turn to not even glance in your direction. He’s too focused on the way the girl on screen’s throat is bulging as the man thrusts into her mouth. Maybe he should watch porn more often.

“What are you doing?” He can hear the irritation building in your voice. He hears the chair scrape along the hardwood floor as you stand up to get a better look at him. He knows you can see exactly what he’s doing now.

He smirks, turning to look at you for just a split second before his attention is back to being on screen. “Watching ah fuck watching TV”. He starts to stroke himself faster now, knowing you’re watching him. He’s a little embarrassed by how turned on he is. Cock already rock hard, his tip bright red and shiny from leaking so much pre-cum.

“Do you have to do… that… here? I can’t concentrate.” You clench your fists and your sides.

Oh you’re pissed. But this isn’t exactly the reaction he wants from. He’ll make it work though.

“Not my problem babe. Shit.” He takes his free hand down to play with his swollen balls and god, if he weren’t so determined to dump this load inside you he might have come right then and there.

“Kuroo!” You shout. He’s still not looking at you. How could he when the girl on the screen is getting absolutely railed. He only hears the sound of your barefeet on the hardwood floor as you storm over to the couch. He’s not sure what your plan was when you decided to come over here, but it doesn’t even matter anymore because the second you’re close enough he yanks you by your wrist and forces you into his lap.

“Tetsu!” You thrash and struggle in his hold but it’s no use. He’s bigger and stronger than you.

He wraps his arm around your neck, pulling you into a chokehold. “Oh I’m Tetsu now?” he laughs bitterly

“Let me go! Please!” You still haven’t given up getting out of this, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Shut up. I want you to watch this.” He’s forcing you to look at the screen now. “Look at that yeah? Look at how she’s taking that big cock.”

A hard palm strikes you across your cheek. “Stop squirming and watch.”

The blonde woman is bent over a coffee table while the man behind her rams his dick into her without abandon. Kuroo can’t decide if he finds her whining hot or annoying.

“Looks like it feels good huh babe?” His head is buried in the crook of your neck. “Wanna make you feel good like that.” He places a quick kiss to your temple before pulling your t-shirt over your head, your bare chest now exposed to the cool air.

“Tetsu please.”

“Please what baby?”

Please let me go.

But the way he’s hands are gripping at your breasts, pulling and twisting your nipples, you can’t form any words. Only whimpers.

“Please make you feel good? That what you want baby?” He whispers as he slots his thigh between your legs.

“Yeah yeah please Tetsu.”

Kuroo has turned his focus onto your neck. Harsh sucks, leaving bruises and bite marks in his wake. He wants to laugh at how pathetic you are. Just a few minutes ago, you were adamant on ignoring his presence and now you’re writhing in his lap begging you to touch him.

“Really? I thought you needed to study.”

“No no no Tetsu, only need you.” Just a quickie. You’re both pent up. 10… 15 minutes tops. Then you’ll go back to studying. That’s what you tell yourself.

“That’s right baby.” He grips your hips and grinds you down on to his thigh. “I know exactly what you need.” You take your cue from him and begin riding his thigh, neurology notes long forgotten as he goes back to assaulting your neck. The combination of the sensation of your clothed clit rubbing against his thigh and visual stimulation of the explicit content on your TV makes you dizzy with pleasure.

Your movements become frantic. You’re practically humping his leg at this point. He knows you’re close which is why he wraps one arm around your torso, pulling you back into his chest.

“Baby please.” You whine. Oh, you’re really crying now.

“Oh angel, you were gonna come just from that? Just from humping my thigh and watching some other bitch get eaten out? My angel must be so pent up huh?”

You can’t do anything except whimper and nod.

“Mmhm yeah my baby has been working too hard. Thinking too much. You’re too cute for that you know baby.”

You keep nodding, no idea what you’re actually agreeing to, too busy keening at the praise. You keep trying to move your hips but he just tightens his hold.

“It’s okay though baby I know how to take care of you. Your man knows how to turn off that little brain of yours.”

His hand slides into you shorts, fingers pressing on to your clit over the top of your soaked panties. The moan you let out might rival the porn star on screen, who now by the way, is riding the face of her co-star while she sucks his cock.

He slips his other hand into your panties and starts rubbing quick “Yeah that’s it. Feel good babe?” You melt into his chest. “Yes Tetsu! So good!”

Kuroo pushes his long middle finger into your dripping hole. So tight and warm, he has to bite back a moan of his own. A few slow pumps, before he lets his index finger enter you as well. He’s done going slow now, he starts fucking you with his fingers, thumb brushing over your clit every now and then.

You were so close before, it takes almost no effort on Kuroo’s part to get you there again. You throw your head back on to his shoulder, muscles tensing in anticipation of your impending release. “Tets- gonna cum, gonna cu-“ The second you feel the waves of your orgasm crash on to you, Kuroo has his hands off you entirely, reaching for the remote and turning off the explicit movie.

Ruined. He ruined your orgasm.

You open your eyes and you see Kuroo looking every bit the smug bastard and your own teary eyed reflection in the black screen. “Tetsurou… Why? Why would you-“ You can’t even get the sentence out before he delivers a harsh smack to your clit.

“You think you deserve to come?” A large hand wraps tight around your throat as he lets out a humourless laugh. “You’re stupider than I thought.”

“No Tetsu ‘m not stupid” You manage to rasp out but that just makes him squeeze even tighter.

“What was that? I thought I heard a stupid bitch say something.”

You claw at his had trying to get air into your lungs but Kuroo doesn’t budge.

“Please! Sorry! Please!” is all you can manage to get out. Just as you start to see spots, Kuroo lets go.

Airways burning, you sputter out a “thank you” but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care. “You’re sorry? Show me how fucking sorry you are.” He’s shoves you on to the floor unceremoniously.

While Kuroo removes his slacks and boxers, you try to compose yourself. You know what’s coming but first you need to stop coughing and stop crying. After a minute of deep breathing, you open your eyes and find yourself face to face with Kuroo’s monster cock.

And you’re not exaggerating. The thing is terrifying. Long and girthy, the biggest you’ve ever seen.  He’s unbelievably hard with bulging veins, the tip almost purple with arousal. You’re mesmerised by it. 

Perhaps the only thing scarier than his dick right now is the man attached to it. He’s staring down at you with so much condescension, small smirk playing on his lips. He wraps his hand around his thick base. “You good princess? Get to it.” He tuts.

You place one of your hands on his throbbing member as you tentatively stick out your tongue to lick at his tip where pre-cum is dribbling out. You slowly start to stroke him up and down as you swirl your tongue around the head. Kuroo is being kind, letting you go slow. If you think he’s doing this for your benefit, you’re mistaken. He wants to take his time with this. More importantly, he’s got about a month’s worth of cum stored up in his balls and he wants to make sure that every single drop goes inside your little cunt.

You take what you can fit (just less than half) into your mouth, lips stretched wide around his dick, the head is poking at the back of your throat while your hands work the rest of his shaft. You look up at him with wide, apologetic eyes. He can tell by the way you’re looking at him you want him to know how sorry you are.

It’s cute.

He grabs you by your hair and pulls you off of him. ”Aw baby, that’s it? I thought you were sorry.” 

A mixture of saliva and pre-cum dribbles down your chin. “Tetsu I am sorry. I’m so sorry!” You whimper.

“Yeah?” Kuroo whispers. His grip on your hair tightens as he tilts your head up to look at him. You stare up at your boyfriend, as he bends down to kiss you. Again, it’s surprisingly gentle but is quickly contrasted with the way he uses the other hand to grab your face, squeezing harshly to make you pucker your lips and keep your mouth open.

He smiles down at you, almost lovingly before he puckers his lips as well, letting a fat glob of spit drop from his mouth into yours.

It’s gross. It’s degrading. It’s cruel.

And that’s why you swallow it down almost immediately, without being asked. 

“Good girl” He whispers and gives you a kiss on the nose as a reward. The simple praise shoots straight to your pussy and now you’re greedy for more.

Kuroo leans back and assumes his previous position but this time flexing his elbows and putting his hands behind his head. He’s still wearing his dress shirt, unbuttoned so you can admire his delicious torso. Toned and tanned with the trail of dark hair running all the way to his groin. He looks completely relaxed with his eyes closed and for a moment you find yourself enamored by how stunning he is. How stunning your man is. You want to please him now more than ever. You want him to call you his good girl again. You steady yourself on your knees and prepare for the task at hand

You start off with a few shallow bobs on his cock. Then you take a deep breath through your nose before taking as much of him in your throat as you can. “Holy shit.”  He breathes out. His hips thrust up reflexively while you try to suppress your own reflex, trying to keep him has deep as possible for as long as possible. You’ve had lots of practice deepthroating your boyfriend’s dick but somehow it hasn’t gotten any easier.

You pull off of him but not completely, just enough to open up your airway to let much needed air into your burning lungs. You twist your hands around the exposed part of him. You look up at him and he’s giving you that fond smile again and it makes your heart swell in your chest. It’s all the motivation you need to take him back into your throat. Again you take him as far as you can but there’s still a good inch or so that you can’t take no matter how hard you try.

“Aw baby you need some help?” Kuroo coos from above you. You look up at him with big watery eyes and nod as best you can with his dick lodged in your oesophagus. He lets out a hum. “Anything for my baby.” He places one of his large hands on the back of your head and pushes you down until your nose meets his pelvis.

Your throat muscles are spasming around the impossibly large, impossibly deep intrusion but Kuroo keeps you there, seemingly reveling in your gags. Your drool dribbles from your lips, down his balls on to the black leather of the couch. You try breathing through your nose but you struggle. However, your discomfort is completely eclipsed by Kuroo’s moans and grunts. If it makes him feel good you’ll keep him in there as long as he wants. You’ll let him thrust into your mouth until he comes if he so choses.

Lucky for you, that’s not what he wants tonight.

You pulls you off his dick by once again but slowly this time. He watches the string of drool that connects your lips and drags you away until it snaps. He take his heavy shaft and slaps it against your right cheek. You let out a gasp and a smirk starts to play on his lips. Before you know it he’s smacking and dragging his cock all over your face, covering you in a mixture of your saliva and his pre-cum. “God damn. Prettiest fuckin’ girl in the world right here on her knees for me.” He says as he leans back to admire his handiwork.  “Open” he says. You obey without hesitation and he spits in your mouth again.

You swallow eagerly. “Thank you Tetsuro.” Your throat feels raw but you smile at him, absolutely giddy, nonetheless.

“Get up here, pretty girl.” Kuroo helps you to your feet and shimmy out of your bottoms before guiding you on to his lap so you’re straddling him. Immediately two of his fingers are inside you again, your slick cunt offering no resistance whatsoever. “You know angel, I’m still not sure how sorry you actually are.” He’s scissoring his fingers, stretching out your walls. If he were a different man, he’d thrust into you right now without any prep but he sees how fucked out you already are, there’s no need to punish you any further. His fingers move at a tortuous pace, squelching as he thrusts them in and out of you.

You’re panting. “Anything, I’ll do anything.”

The slow drag of his fingers grazing that spot inside you as he pulls out makes your eyes flutter shut. When you open them again, Kuroo is holding the same fingers in front of your face. Your boyfriend keeps is hazel eyes locked on yours as he sticks out his tongue to lick up the arousal soaking his digits.

“Hmm ‘course you will.” He slaps his fat cockhead on your sensitive clit making you squeal.

He drags his tip from your clit to your dripping slit over and over again getting it nice and wet.

You chant “Tetsu please” like some twisted prayer. You desperately want to make up for your earlier ruined orgasm.

“Wanna see you bounce on my cock, angel.”

You oblige him wordlessly, taking hold of his shaft and lining in him up with your entrance. You slowly lower yourself on to him wincing at the way he stretches you out. The prep was minimal and his fingers are no match for the size of his cock. You have to stop to breathe and blink away tears. You lift up your hips and lower yourself down slowly again, taking a little more of him inside you. You repeat the process a couple more times.

As much as watching your struggle to take his cock strokes his ego, Kuroo is growing bored. It’s time to take matters into his own hands.

Kuroo grips your hips and takes you by surprise as he thrusts up into you, making you take the whole thing. You let out a shrill cry as the tip of his cock nudges at your cervix. A heavy smack lands on your ass. “I said bounce angel.”

“So big Tetsu fuck. So big.” You whine as he pulls you up, before he sheaths his dick fully inside you, making you shriek for a second time.

God you could be such a crybaby sometimes. You were starting to piss him off again.  He pulls out of you completely and says “Turn around.”

“Tetsu no please! Wanna see you.” You pout, your eyes welling up with tears.

Another smack. This time across your face. You reach up to touch the sore skin on your cheek, it feels hot. “Don’t talk back to me you stupid slut.”

You whimper but obey his command. You don’t want Kuroo to be angry at you.

“Now sit on it.” He spanks you another time before gripping your ass and guiding his cock into you until your ass meets his groin.

Playtime is over.

Kuroo slips his hands under your thighs, grabbing the back of your knees and folding your body in half. Now he’s really fucking you. His thrusts are rough, cock knocking against your cervix repeatedly as he sinks himself into your sopping cunt over and over again. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass and the squelching of your dripping pussy make for the lewdest symphony you’ve ever heard. 

“Tetsurou ‘m close. Please” you cry. The way his dick is rubbing against your sweet spot means you won’t last long.

“No.”

Despite his denial, he doesn’t ease up on his thrusts. You’re trying to concentrate on holding back your orgasm but honestly you can’t concentrate on anything except Kuroo pistoning his fat cock in and out of you.

“Look at you.” You see your reflection in the black TV screen. “You see that?” He gives one particularly hard thrust to emphasise his point. “Fucked stupid huh?”

“Yeah Tetsu Yeah.” It’s no mirror but you can see all that you need to. You see your boyfriend using your body like a fleshlight, thrusting up into you at a relentless pace. You see your cunt split open on his cock. You see yourself being completely and utterly owned by him.

“My girl is such a fucking whore huh? My own personal porn star.”

“Need to cum nnggh let me cum please.” You’re teetering so close to the edge and Kuroo’s filthy mouth is not helping your situation in the slightest.

“Why should I let you cum hm? You’re so good when you’re desperate. Think I should keep you like this.”

“Please Tetsu. Please. Wanna be good! Wanna be your good girl Testu! Wanna take care of you! Please.”

He likes the way that sounds.

His good girl. His wife. His. His. His.

“Cum for me angel. Cum. Right now.” He says, lips pressed against your ear.

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. With the way he’s pounding his dick into your tight little pussy you have no choice but to spiral into orgasm. Your pussy spasms around his cock, pulling him deeper inside you. The hot coil in your tummy that’s been building unravels and the bliss hits you so hard you see starts. Kuroo keeps fucking up into you as you cream around him. As you come down, you go limp in his arms. That doesn’t stop him from using you though.

His grip around your thighs tightens and that’s how you know he’s getting close. “You gonna be a good girl for me? You gonna take this fat fucking load? Yeah? Take all of it deep in your cunt?” He growls right into your ear.

“Tetsu gimme pleasepleaseplease” You beg him as you cry from overstimulation, barely able to form the words.

“Take it. Take it. Fuck!” He growls as he shoots his load right into your tight, gooey pussy. You feel his hot cum fill up your womb and the sensation is so overwhelming it makes you go cross-eyed, tongue lolling out of your mouth. He grunts, still rutting into you through his orgasm. When he’s done he pulls out of you, smiling as he watches his cum leak out of your spent hole.

Kuroo loves the fact that you’re smart. But when you’re like this? Absolutely cum drunk, eyes glazed, body covered in bruises and willing to do anything he asks you to? He fucking adores you like this.

“Go take care of dinner princess, then your man is gonna take care of you some more.” He swats you on your ass.

You giggle and let your wobbly legs carry you to the kitchen with your boyfriend’s cum running down between your thighs, thoughts of your upcoming final completely fucked out of your head.

Along with every other thought not revolving around your future husband.

Kuroo reaches for his phone to text his assistant and tell her to cancel all his meetings for tomorrow. He has to go ring shopping.

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