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#stop fighting in the music room!!!!
nutmeggery · 3 months
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the music room is homophobic
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izzy-b-hands · 25 days
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At what point do i stop bothering to differentiate between the panic and anxiety attacks when they just. meld into each other and seemingly feed off each other
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lonesomedotmp3 · 1 year
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I'm not even a fangs/kevin shipper but it's so wild to me they're doing this nothing romance w clay as if the perfect opportunity isn't there for fangs and kevin to have a fun homoerotic little music rivalry....
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I wish I could clone myself multiple times so that me and all my clones could sing the ending part of Non-Stop from Hamilton because it is physically impossible for me to sing all that as one person
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fairy-angel222 · 25 days
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𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍’
—OFFICER! TOJI F. x F! READER
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᧔♡᧓ in which your officer boyfriend catches you at a party that you lied about going to
᧔♡᧓ content: rough smut, age gap (reader is in college), angry sex, jealous sex, possessive toji, handcuffs, breeding, choking, hair pulling, ass/tit/pussy slapping, praise, degradation, daddy kink here and there, begging, orgasm denial, passing out, pussy eating, semi-public sex, sex in police car
᧔♡᧓ requested by @valleydoli 💗
᧔♡᧓ wc: 3.1k
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Toji couldn’t fight the annoyance on his face as he pulled up into the small neighborhood. Loud music blaring through the air as colorful lights beamed onto the dimly lit street. There had been a number of complaints. The neighborhood’s residents ringing 9-1-1 one after the other.
To say he didn’t care was an understatement. Out of the whole department Gojo Satoru just had to dispatch him to break up a stupid college party. His police vehicle came to a stop a little down the block, the tall man stepping out with stonic features and a sigh as he made his way closer to the source of vulgar tunes which seemed to shake surrounding houses.
Toji stalked up to the front door, the smell of hard alcohol and weed hitting his nose as he banged on the door. Forceful enough for the sound to ring throughout the noisy inside. A drunk boy no older than 19 swinging the door open with a grin. “Hey man! O-oh shit. Hey officer, what can i do for you?” He cleared his throat, swallowing hard under Toji’s harsh gaze as he tried his hardest to appear sober.
Toji peered over the boy and into the room. Sweaty bodies grinding against each other while others made out, almost every hand nursing a plastic red cup. “Do me a favor and just keep the noise down alright, if not shut this whole damn thing down.. what the fuck.” The officer spat bitterly, jaw clenching with a scowl when his eyes landed on someone. His someone.
You.
He couldn’t believe it. You had been so persistent on spending the night at home. Claiming that you had piles on piles of work to complete. Did you crave attention that badly? One measly night he had to work overtime and this was the shit you pulled? Clad in a lacy dress which had a deep v cut and barely reached your mid thigh. Your body, his girl’s body, on display for everyone to see.
He could see the eyes roaming your figure top through bottom. His blood boiling as he visibly seethed, shoving past the lanky teenage boy to make his way over to you. You were grinning happily, one hand in your hair and the other ghosting over the hand that rested on your hip. Giving the girl behind you the dance of her life.
The music lowered, Toji’s eyes twitching at all the loud gasps that echoed through the room. All eyes on his large frame as he towered over everyone in the room. Muscles bulging through his tight shirt with each hard step that he took. All eyes but yours. You were too into what you were doing, and your boyfriend couldn’t help his rising anger as he got closer and closer. Spotting familiar brunette and green hair sat on a couch with their lips on each other’s.
Of course. You were dragged here.
You giggled loudly, taking a swig from the girl’s cup and letting the bitter tasting liquid scrape at the walls of your throat when you swallowed. Your friends’ eyes widened as they pulled away from each other, desperately trying to get your attention as you swayed your hips. Those hips that only Toji was allowed to see move.
A hand grabbed the flesh of your arm tightly, your head whipping around to snap at the stranger before your brows furrowed. Taking in that broad chest that you’d gotten to know by heart. Your eyes timidly trailed upwards, a small whimper caught in your throat when they met his darkened ones. The man’s head tilting to the side as if daring you to not comply. He would not hesitate to get you out of there over his shoulder if he had to.
“T-toji.. h-hi i-“ you stuttered, looking down at your feet as you shuffled nervously. Eyes darting to the girls who eyed you apologetically.
“Shut up.” His voice was firm, and your thighs clenched as you held back another whimper. You could feel everyone’s eyes boring into you. “Fuck. You know what? Everybody out.” His voice raised at the end. The bustling college teens wasting no time before they scattered, afraid at just the mere sight of the man. “And you.. oh you’re in for it now.”
All the alcohol seemed to leave your system when Toji pulled your arms behind your back. Cuffing your hands as your face heated up in embarrassment. “T-toji w-wait.” The man ignored you as he pulled you out of the room, not caring about how you stumbled over your own two feet to keep up with his large strides.
“She really disobeyed you this time huh?” A familiar voice rung out, a teasing smirk on Gojo’s face as he walked up the few stairs that you’d just descended from. “Good job Y/n.” He winked, a deep chuckle leaving his throat as he thought back to exactly why he had sent Toji out here.
It didn’t take long to reach the vehicle with the speed you were being pulled at. Toji’s hold on your arm never loosening in the slightest. “Get in.” Toji spoke meanly, holding the door open with a gesture for you to get inside.
“But-“
“Get the fuck in Y/n.” He never called you by your name often, only when he was mad. It was always some sweet petname that made you feel all warm and tingly inside. Sliding into the vehicle you kept your head low, the door slamming behind you not too long after.
You squirmed in your seat. Giving into the tension filled silence as you watched his grip on the wheel tighten until his knuckles were pale. Thoughts of you letting any other man touch you coursing in his mind.
Toji undid the first two buttons of his shirt, using his fingers to prod the tight fabric open as he rolled his neck. Taking the pair of handcuffs off his suited pants before rolling the vehicle to a stop.
“Toji ‘m sorry.” You mumbled almost shyly, face getting hot as your arousal dampened your lace panties.
He ignored you. Taking a step out of the car and into the night’s darkness. The vacant road scarce of any sources of light. Your door swung open, eyes widening in a doe-like pout as you looked up at him.
“Don’t. Not after that shit you just pulled.” He warned, expression still hard as you climbed out, the slam of the door making you jump with a yelp. A small whine left your throat as you were flipped around, chest pressed into the vehicle’s side with your hands still bound behind your back.
He roughly pushed your dress up to your waist with a scoff. “Going out dressed like you want to get laid. Am i not enough for you baby?” His fingers found their way to your clad folds. Brushing over your clit with a hum. “Do i not fuck you enough? Is that little pussy so desperate to be filled?” He didn’t give to a chance to answer, his palm landing heavily on your pussy making you jerk with a cry. “Look at that. She’s all wet f��me. Such a greedy fucking cunt yeah?”
You whimpered loudly, Toji’s voice deep and husky in your ear as he kissed up your neck. Allowing you to lean back onto him with your head on his chest. Soft moans falling past your lips as you let yourself grind on his fingers. Another loud cry filling the air when he landed it hard on your ass instead.
“I shouldn’t even be touching you.” He whispered venomously, voice laced with clear disappointment as he pushed his fingers past the thin fabric, pressing the pad of his middle finger onto your clit before rubbing small circles. Watching the way your lips parted in sweet noises as you let your eyes flutter shut. “Should just drop you home and leave you all desperate and needy.”
That made you whine with the shake of your head, pushing your ass back onto his crotch in want. “Or will you just call someone to come fuck you like a little slut?” You cringed at the sound of your panties tearing, Toji’s muscles straining against the confines of his shirt’s fabric as he rolled up his sleeves. Quickly working to free his hard cock before pushing you into the back seat of the car with a smirk. Handling your body until you were face down, with your ass up on display for him.
“Look at yourself.” He forced your head up to gaze at your reflection in the window. “Gonna fucking destroy you baby. Do you want that?”
You nodded, eyes prickling with tears as you clenched in anticipation. You wanted his cock so bad. “Ahh f-fuck.” Another slap to your ass.
“So you do have a mouth.”
Words. He wanted to hear you say it.
“P-please fuck me daddy.”
“You can do better than that princess.”
“Please. Please fuck me. Need you so bad. ‘M aching f’ you. Want you to fill me up.” You begged.
“That’s it. That’s my slutty girl.” You mewled loudly at the intrusion of Toji’s thick cock. The man bottoming out inside you with one quick thrust making your knees buckle underneath you while your back arched. Feeling Toji’s fat tip immediately prodding at the increased tightness near your cervix.
“Shit.” He cursed, breathing getting heavy as he nestled his cock within your warm walls. Forgetting just how much he loved that little cunt of yours.
He started off rough, forcing his cock deep as you rocked harshly against the soft seat. Loud moans dripping off the tip of your tongue as his cocked kissed meanly at your g spot.
Your pussy stretched to accommodate the quick thrusts of his girthy length. Feeling his veins scraping deliciously against your gummy walls as he hammered into you.
You cried out when Toji’s hand found its way around your throat, pulling you up to his chest with your hands flush between your back and his chest. Drool filled babbles spilling messily onto your skin at the force of his hips.
“Haah— T-toji f-fuck,” you keened loudly, your chest riding and falling rapidly as your brain turned to mush. Unable to think of anything but how good he felt inside of you. Lewd squelches mixed with skin slapping burning its way into your brain. A constant reminder of Toji’s abuse to your sensitive cunt as your vision blurred.
“That’s it baby. Take it real nice n’ deep. You’re practically swallowing me in right now.” He breathed. Hand tightening around your throat as the other travelled down to your chest, barely having to tug at the black fabric for your tits to spill into his large hand. Rough fingers twisting at your pert nipples as he palmed the soft flesh.
“Ahh— so good. Feels s’ good daddy.” You cried, Toji’s hand landing two consecutive slaps onto your breasts.
“Gonna stuff this pussy real full. Breed her with my cum till you know your place.” He growled lowly, his frustration seeming to reemerge as he stroked his cock with your tightness. Allowing himself to poke at every corner of your warmth, ruining your slutty pussy to your tears.
“Wanna go out dressed like you’re available. Single. Like you don’t have me taking care of that ache between your legs every single night.” His pace quickened with every word. Snapping his hips up mercilessly till his balls reddened your puffy clit, mouth hung open in whiny mewls as your stomach tightened.
Your tears flowed freely as you were shoved back into the car’s seat. Your mind dizzy at the plowing of his cock into your sweet spot. Toji’s hand moving to grip at the delicate flesh of your hip with other torturing your clit. Rubbing mean, hard circles onto the swollen bud.
“Tojii— ‘m gonna, ahh- ‘m gonna cum.” You whimpered, catching sight of the traces of mascara staining your cheeks alongside your messy hair. The sight being enough to make you call out his name incoherently as your eyes rolled back. Legs shaking violently as you clenched around him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh—“ you chanted, letting out a broken scream as you squirted messily. Completely drenching Toji’s cock in your wetness.
Toji’s movements stilled, his fingers digging into your hair with a sharp tug upwards. “Oh i’m sorry? Did i say you could cum baby?”
“Sorry, nngh- c-couldn’t hold it.” You hiccuped, knowing that you were in trouble.
Toji shook his head, pulling you back so you lay flat across the seat. Shoving one of your legs up beside your body with a grunt. A shiver raking through your body as the cool air breezed through your sopping pussy.
You let out a groan, your attempt to close your legs stopped by Toji’s strong hands shoving them apart. Groping at both sides of your ass before his palms made contact with the skin. A bubbly whine catching in your throat when you tightened around nothing.
Toji sunk to his knees on the ground outside, the forest to his back as he began pressing soft kisses to the sides of your thighs, his tongue licking a long stripe up your slit.
He groaned, grip tightening on your thighs when his tongue darted out once more to lap at your sweetness. Sloppily running between your folds before swirling around your clit. It didn’t take long to get you where he wanted you. The overstimulation going straight to your foggy brain as Toji got lost in your heat. His eyes fluttering shut with a hum as he tried to pull you impossible further onto his tongue. Your constantly flowing slick mixed with his saliva dripping sloppily onto the ground below.
Your fingers clawed at nothing as you began to tremble, crying out loudly as your eyes closed shut. Your tear stained cheek pressed into the seat as you drooled adorably. A smirk adorning Toji’s face when he curled his thick fingers into you.
“Ahh— ‘s too muchh. Gonna cum again.” You mewled desperately, toes curling as another coil tightened in your stomach. Toji stopped sucking at your clit, pulling away from you while his fingers sped up. Paddy tips poking directly into your spot with ease. “Yeah? Gonna cum for me already?”
You answered with a high pitched moan and a small “uh huh”, feeling yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge before it all came crumbling down. Toji removing his fingers before standing up, and only then did you notice how much of his chest was on display. He leaned down to kiss away your tears, brushing away any hair stuck to your forehead. “Only good girls get these privileges baby, i’m a cop, you should know this.” He cooed.
His cock prodded at your hole, sinking into his rightful place deep within your warmth before beginning to fuck into you. He knew your orgasm had barely just died down, and he was going to fuck you to another just to leave you hungry.
Your boyfriend’s head found its place in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your ear before he grinned against your skin. “You won’t be leaving the house for days when i’m done with you.” He promised, tone gruff as he felt his cock twitch in indication of his own high.
“Haah— ‘s so muchh.” You breathed as you melted into him, his touch hot on your skin leaving short quivers in its wake. “Toji— o-oh fuckk.” You were sputtering out strangled noises of pleasure, Toji’s husky groans in your ear adding fuel to the fire as you let out a cry. Your pussy gushing onto him before your orgasm could even hit.
Toji cursed loudly, his grip on your hips allowing him to pull you back onto him as roughly as he was slamming into you. “That’s it baby, pussy’s gripping me so fucking tight.”
“‘M so close— so so close.” You gasped, basking in the small skin to skin contact of your hands on his exposed chest.
“Gotta fucking earn it. Tell me, who do you belong to princess. Who owns this slutty little pussy hmm? Who fucks you this good every night?” He questioned darkly, rolling his hips in a way he knew would drive you crazy.
“Y-you. You do. ‘S all y-yours— fuck. Please can i cum? Need to cum so bad.” You almost sobbed, Toji kissing your cheek sweetly with a breathy moan. “All mine. All fucking mine. Go ahead slutty girl. Cum f’ me.”
You let go noisily, vision clouded as your moans spilled uncontrollably past your lips. The burning sensation in your stomach slowly easing as you allowed yourself to let go. Making a mess on the man’s cock while he worked himself deeper inside you. Burying his cock as far as he could before pumping you full with a contented sigh.
“Let everyone know that you’re taken. Get you pregnant with my kid and keep you locked away. Only for me.” His cum painting your walls in hot spurts as his abs tensed. The throb of his cock slowly dulling as you milked him dry.
You whimpered, feeling the thick substance slowly seep out of you when he pulled out. All the alcohol finally catching up to you as you slipped in and out of consciousness. Letting your eyes blink shut before you went limp in his arms.
Toji groaned with a stretch, smirking down at you and your fucked out form.
So pretty.
He tugged down your dress and tucked himself back into his pants. Removing your hand cuffs before taking you into his arms gently. Laying you down more comfortably with a quick kiss to your forehead. Watching as your chest rose and fell softly, face contorted into a peaceful one despite how stained it was from your tears.
He slipped into the driver’s seat, allowing the car to reach the perfect temperature for you to rest it. Finally pulling off from the side of the road. He laughed shortly when he checked the time, contemplating whether he should even bother going back to work. He’d much rather stay home with you.
He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, rolling his eyes when he saw the name written across the screen. Satoru.
“Hello.”
“So, fucked her good didn’t ya? Made your girl cry huh Fushiguro.” The white haired man laughed into the call. Gojo had been tempted to say it over the radio, but he didn’t know if you’d be awake or not.
“That’s why you sent me out there isn’t it?” Toji scoffed, one hand on the steering wheel turning it into your apartment complex while the other worked the gear. If you were awake you’d be going crazy. Him driving was one of your many weaknesses.
“Yes, and you’re welcome. Tell her i said hi when she gets up. Bye Fushiguro~” The call beeped to an end and Toji shook his head, trying to hide the small smile creeping up onto his face. Fucking Satoru.
Glancing back at you he allowed himself to openly smile, he could never stay mad at you. It was time to show you that.
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nastybuckybarnes · 6 months
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Car Rides
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Summary: Road trips are usually pretty boring, but you and Bucky find a way to pass the time.
Warnings: Smut, Public sex, Car sex, Language, Fluff, Mutual Pining,
Word Count: 1.8K
A/n: I got this request AGES ago apparently and I'm only just seeing it now! hope y'all enjoy!
~*~
"Can you move your seat up?"
There's a brief pause, almost like Sam's thinking about it, before - "no."
Silence hangs heavily in the car for a long moment as Steve drives and you can't help but feel bad for Bucky.
He's squished in behind Sam, While you've got a decent amount of room behind Steve.
"We can switch, if you want?" You offer quietly, nudging Bucky's knee with yours.
"Steve's not stopping the car just so Terminator can feel more comfortable," Sam interjects, ignoring the ice of Bucky's stare.
"I'm sure we can switch spots while he's driving. We've done far more on missions with less room, I have faith. Unbuckle your seatbelt."
"Yes ma'am."
You take off your own seatbelt, ignoring Steve's warning look in the rearview mirror.
"Okay, I'm gonna climb over you in the middle seat so when you scoot over I'll climb over and then we'll be set!"
Foolproof! Brilliant!
Bucky scoots over to the middle and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself, then grab his shoulders and stretch one leg over his lap.
Steve chooses that particular moment to hit a bump in the road, sending you tumbling into Bucky and forcing his face into your chest.
Your shirt of choice today is fairly low cut, leaving little to the imagination, even less now that Bucky's face is pressed to your goods.
Regaining your coordination feels like it takes a lifetime, but you eventually manage to pry your boobs out of Bucky's face and plop down in the seat behind Sam.
Your heart hammers in your chest and you avoid looking at Bucky with all your might as you put your seatbelt on.
It's no secret that there's tension between the two of you that has only been growing the more time you spend together, but now? Now that you pretty much forced him to motorboat you?
Horrible. Stupid. The worst idea you've ever had ever.
You almost pray for the car to roll off a cliff to save you from the embarrassment licking up your spine.
The ride is silent for a little while, with some of Sam's music being the only thing stopping it from being too heavy, and soon his soft snores accompany the tunes.
After maybe about half an hour, Bucky's knee brushes against yours once briefly, then rests against it more firmly, with purpose.
Your gaze darts over to him but he's got his eyes focused out the window. You let your eyes fall to where he's manspreading into your personal space, and freeze when your eyes land on the bulge in his pants.
The bulge that certainly was not there before the two of you switched spots, not that you looked.
And now you can't tear your eyes away from it.
Sure, all this time the two of you have been flirty and a little more than friendly, but never to this extent.
Your eyes raise to his face once more and your heart stops for a moment when you meet his gaze.
You're caught now.
Swallowing hard, you glance at his crotch once more then turn to look out your own window, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt at fighting the warmth that's quickly spreading.
Bucky rolls his window down, and the light mechanical whirring sound masks the soft gasp that leaves you when his hand lands on your thigh.
You glance down at where his hand is, watching as his fingers flex as he squeezes your supple flesh.
Your body acts on its own, thighs spreading slightly and giving him the green light he needs to slide his hand up closer to your centre.
Eyes focused on the rearview mirror, you slowly grab Bucky's discarded jacket and drape it over your lap while spreading your legs further, successfully hiding his fingers as they dust over your core.
"Cold?" He asks, glancing at you as he slides his hand down your pants.
You swallow hard and nod, leaning back and breathing through your mouth as he slides a thick finger through your folds.
"With the window open it's a little breezy, but the fresh air is nice," you whisper, breath hitching when he rubs your clit gently.
He nods his agreement, coating his middle finger in your essence then slowly pushing it inside of you.
"Clears the head."
You nod, eyes falling shut as he begins a steady pace, pushing on your walls deliciously slow.
"Exactly," the words are a mere breath on your lips as you lose yourself in the feeling of him.
He leans his head back, his eyes focused on your face as he massages your walls, pulling his finger out only to push two right back in.
He watches as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, brows furrowing as you try your hardest to stay quiet through the slow building pleasure.
It's almost torturously slow, and he knows that, but watching your small twitches and movements has Bucky's dick growing hard enough to cut diamonds.
"We got a good day for this, huh?" Bucky asks, grinning when you struggle to open your eyes.
"Yeah it's... good... it's really good," you whisper, eyelids fluttering slightly before you finally raise your glassy eyes to his.
"I could go for a snack soon though, something sweet to eat."
"Mhmm," you let out a soft moan of agreement as he slips a third finger inside you, pumping them in and out at a slightly faster speed than before.
Not fast enough to draw attention to the two of you, but fast enough for you to be struggling to keep still.
"Next gas station isn't too far out. They probably won't have much but we can stop there to grab a snack and stretch," Steve's voice says from the front seat, his eyes glancing at you and Bucky in the rearview mirror before focusing on the road again.
"Sounds good to me," Bucky says, his voice low and his mischievous eyes focused on you as you nod your agreement.
You dig your head back into the headrest, toes curling in your shoes as his palm rubs against your clit with every thrust of his fingers inside of your wet heat.
He stretches your walls deliciously, enhanced senses picking up the tangy sweet smell of your cunt on every gust of wind that blows through the car.
He can't help but lick his lips, greatly looking forward to tasting you once he's finished enjoying fingering your tight snatch.
Eyes slowly opening, you let your head roll to the side eyes finding his as you breathe softly through your mouth.
He grins cheekily at you and stuffs his fingers inside of you a little harder, watching in smug satisfaction when your face screws up with a mixture of pleasure and pain.
The car slowly rolls to a stop and Steve lets out a groan.
"All right. I'm gonna stretch my legs and grab a snack. Are you guys coming in?" Steve's eyes find Bucky's as he opens the door.
Sam jolts upright with a groan, rubbing his face then yawning and pulling off his seatbelt.
"I'm gonna come inside," He says groggily, stumbling out of the car and stretching.
"I think we're good back here, she's falling asleep," Bucky whispers, giving your clit a particularly rough rub before pulling his fingers out of you.
Sam and Steve head into the gas station, and as soon as they are out of sight Bucky is tossing the jacket off of your lap and yanking your pants down your legs.
He licks his fingers clean while using his other hand to undo his belt and shuck his pants down his thighs, exposing his weeping hot cock.
"We don't have much time, sweetheart, better make it count. N'when we get to the cabin I'll fuck you nice and slow and proper," he promises quietly.
You straddle his waist once more, wet core dripping onto his lap and Bucky can't help but hiss when he slides his aching cock through your folds.
He rubs your clit a few times then slides inside in one quick thrust, pressing his mouth to yours to swallow the sound of your moan.
With the window open, you guys aren't exactly safe. Anyone could drive or walk by and Sam and Steve will likely only be gone for a few minutes.
"Fuck, you feel so good, baby... shit..."
His voice is strained as you begin rocking your hips in his lap, eyes squeezed shut as the tip of his cock drags across your g-spot.
Rather than let you have your fun, he flips you onto your back in the back seat of the car and hammers his hips down to meet yours, his lips trailing over your throat as you moan softly at the new angle.
He's hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and kissing your cervix with every other roll of his hips.
The pleasure and pain mix and make your head foggy, and it doesn't take long for your toes to curl around Bucky's hips and your climax to creep up on you.
Metal fingers toy with your clit with expert precision, and within only a few moments, your walls are clamping down around him and successfully milking him of his cum.
He lets out a few shuddering breaths as his own orgasm washes over him, balls tight as he pumps you full of ropes and ropes of thick white cum.
His head rests on your chest for a moment, breathing you in as he basks in his high, and then he's carefully pulling out of you and yanking his pants back on.
You, on the other hand, are stuck on your back as aftershocks wrack your frame.
Chuckling softly at his handy work, Bucky helps you back into your pants then pulls you up into his arms.
You collapse against his chest when he leans back against the door, cuddled in his arms as much as you can in the cramped backseat of the car.
He holds you gently, his own eyes closing as he relaxes into his post orgasmic bliss with you.
Your heart is racing even minutes later when Sam and Steve return to the car, each climbing in quietly when they see the two of you curled up together.
Steve sets a grocery bag full of snacks and drinks down on the floor in the backseat, then turns the music on quietly and starts driving, oblivious to what's just gone on.
As he drives you settle against Bucky, falling asleep gently while his load drips out of your swollen cunt. A mess he plans on thoroughly cleaning up as soon as you reach your destination.
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pucksandpower · 23 days
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Don’t Touch Her
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: Lando will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety after the unthinkable almost happens during a night out
Warnings: spiked drink, attempted SA, descriptions of seizure, hospitalization, and the implied murder of a minor character
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You sway your hips to the pulsing beat, the colorful lights of the club flashing across your skin. Lando’s hands rest lightly on your waist, guiding you to the music. You lean into him, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the tang of sweat in the humid air.
“I’m parched,” you say, turning to face him. “Want me to grab you a drink?”
He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I can get them, love. You keep dancing.”
You shake your head, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I need to get off my feet for a bit anyway. Same as usual?”
“Please. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
You make your way through the crowded dance floor, weaving around gyrating bodies and flailing limbs. The bar is packed, patrons jostling for the bartenders’ attention. You manage to wedge yourself into a tiny gap, shouting your order over the commotion.
While waiting for the drinks, you check your phone. A few missed texts from friends, asking where you are. You fire back quick responses before pocketing the device just as the bartender slides two glasses toward you.
Vodka cranberry for you, rum and coke for Lando. You pass over a few bills, waving away the change, and turn to head back to the dance floor.
You take a long sip of your drink as you walk, the bubbly sweetness refreshing after all that dancing.
Lando is easy to spot, standing out due to the size of the crowd surrounding him. He smiles when he sees you coming, his whole face lighting up. Your heart flutters at the way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the room.
You’re halfway to him when the first wave of dizziness hits. You stumble, drinks sloshing over your hands. Sudden nausea swirls in your gut. The room starts to spin, lights blurring into a kaleidoscope.
“Hey ...” You blink hard, trying to clear the fog creeping over your thoughts. “I don’t … feel so good.”
The glasses slide from your grip, shattering on the floor. You try to take a step toward Lando and the ground rushes up to meet you. Strong hands grab your arms, keeping you from collapsing completely.
“Whoa there, looks like someone started the party a little early.” The voice is unfamiliar, masculine with a hint of mocking laughter. You try to pull away but your limbs feel like lead.
“No, I ...” You shake your head, which only makes the dizziness worse. Through your dimming vision you can see Lando pushing through the crowd, his eyes wide.
“C’mon, there’s a back door this way. Let’s get you some air.” The man starts to guide you away, arms wrapped around your shoulders. Panic shoots through you and you try again to wrench yourself free, but it’s useless.
The cold night air hits you as the door swings open. The alley swims before you, dingy bricks and overflowing dumpsters. The man keeps walking, bearing you along while your weak protests fall on deaf ears.
Fear claws at your insides. You catch a glimpse of streetlights at the other end of the alley before he steers you into the shadows halfway down.
“S-stop,” you mumble, tongue heavy in your mouth. He just chuckles, pressing you against the brick wall.
“Shh, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” His hand squeezes your thigh, rucking up your dress. Somewhere in the recesses of your fading mind, terror shrieks at you to fight, to run, but your traitorous body refuses to respond.
As the man leans in, the alley floods with light. Heavy footsteps pound on the pavement.
“Get your hands off her!” Lando’s voice booms with more fury than you’ve ever heard from him. The man holding you whirls around just as Lando’s fist connects with his jaw. He reels back with a cry, grip loosening. Lando catches you before you can slide to the ground.
“Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” His touch is infinitely gentle compared to the bruising hold of the stranger. He strokes your hair back from your face, eyes searching yours. “Can you hear me, love?”
You try to respond but only manage a faint whimper. Lando swears under his breath. Scooping you into his arms, he carries you swiftly from the alley. You press your face to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline as he strides toward the street. Each jostling step sends the world spinning again.
Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.
Lando lowers you onto a bench outside the club, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Talk to me, please. What’s happening?”
You lick your dry lips, forcing words out with monumental effort. “Dizzy … everything … blurry ...”
Lando’s face creases with worry. He pulls out his phone to dial for help, but pauses when you suddenly convulse, muscles seizing. Your back arches, head slamming against the hard bench.
“Shit! Hold on, I’ve got you.” Lando slides his hand under your head, cradling it gently as the seizure wracks your body. Tears stream down his face as he murmurs soothing words, helpless to do anything but wait it out.
After endless moments, the convulsions stop. You go limp, gasping raggedly. The world fades in and out of focus, Lando’s anguished face floating above you.
“Please, baby, stay with me,” he begs, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. “The ambulance will be here any second.”
You try to respond but darkness crowds the edges of your vision. The last thing you see before slipping into unconsciousness is Lando bent over you, shoulders shaking with sobs as he clutches your motionless hand.
***
Beeping.
Hushed voices.
The astringent scent of disinfectant.
You drift somewhere between waking and oblivion, grasping at fractured memories.
Lando’s face, streaked with tears.
Dancing bodies.
Pulsing lights.
The weight of unwanted hands, dragging you into the shadows.
With a sharp inhale, your eyes fly open. You’re in a hospital room, IV line taped to the back of your hand. Pale morning light filters through the blinds. The beeping comes from a monitor tracking your heartbeat.
“Hey.” Lando sits in a chair beside the bed, leaning forward when he sees you’re awake. His eyes are rimmed with red, hair disheveled. “How are you feeling?”
You try to speak but your throat is painfully dry. Lando grabs a cup of water, angling the straw so you can sip. The cool liquid soothes like a balm, washing away the cottony feeling in your mouth.
“What … what happened?” You rasp out finally.
Lando’s expression turns grim. “Someone drugged you at the club. Probably targeting an easy robbery, but ...” His jaw clenches, hands balling into fists. “If I had been even a few seconds later, he would have ...”
Unable to finish the thought, Lando buries his face in his hands. His shoulders tremble. Your heart aches, and you reach out to comb gentle fingers through his hair.
“But you weren’t,” you say softly. “You saved me.”
He looks up, eyes shining wetly. “I never should have let you out of my sight. If I lost you ...” His breath hitches, raw anguish written across his face.
“Hey, no.” You catch his hand, squeezing firmly. “This wasn’t your fault. You found me in time. That’s all that matters.”
Fresh tears spill down Lando’s cheeks. He brings your entwined hands to his lips, pressing a trembling kiss to your knuckles.
“I was so scared,” he chokes out. “Seeing you like that, helpless, shaking ...” He clenches his jaw, looking away. “And not being able to do anything. Just having to watch ...”
He breaks off with a shuddering breath. You tug gently on his hand, urging him up from the chair. He perches on the edge of the bed, enveloping you in his tender arms. You cling to each other, tears mingling as the enormity of what almost happened sinks in.
After long moments, Lando pulls back to cup your face in both hands. He searches your eyes, still flooded with relief and lingering fear.
“I could have lost you,” he repeats in a shattered whisper.
You cover his hands with your own. “But you didn’t. I’m right here. With you.”
His breath leaves him a rush, the frightened tension easing from his frame. Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours. The beeping monitor and distant hospital noises fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this quiet intimacy.
When Lando finally lifts his head, the fire in his eyes makes your heart stutter.
“I love you,” he says, low and fervent.
You meet Lando’s intense gaze, equally overcome by emotion.
“I love you too,” you breathe.
He cradles your face again, thumbs sweeping feather-light over your cheeks. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath. It’s soft yet saturates you with his passion, fear, relief — every shade of the feelings coursing between you in this moment. You sink into it, hands coming up to twist in his rumpled shirt, keeping him close.
When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless. Lando smooths your hair, regret pinching his features.
“I should let you rest. The doctor said you’ll probably feel weak and foggy for a few days.”
You give a small shrug. “I don’t feel that bad right now. Just … stay with me?”
He smiles softly. “Of course, love.”
Settling next to you on top of the sheets, he loops an arm around your shoulders. You nestle against him, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. For a long moment, you simply savor being wrapped in this bubble of solace.
“Do they know who did it yet?” You finally ask, unable to quell your lingering unease about the attack.
Lando shakes his head. “The police looked at security footage but the guy’s face wasn’t visible. They’re still investigating.”
You nod, chewing your lip. Lando tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.
“I won’t let him get away with this,” he says, quiet but fierce. “I’ll do whatever it takes to find him and make sure he never hurts anyone again.”
There’s cold fury underlying his tone that you’ve never heard from him before. It reminds you viscerally of that brief glimpse in the alley — Lando transformed in the heat of protective rage.
But now the fire in his eyes is fanned and smoldering. A determination that won’t relent.
He tightens his arm around you, pressing his lips to your hair. You settle against his chest again, comforted by the steady thump of his heartbeat.
***
A few days later, you’re curled up on the couch with Lando, a movie playing quietly in the background. You’re mostly zoning out, still feeling residual exhaustion. Lando plays idly with your hair, a comforting sensation.
When your phone buzzes with an alert, you grab it lazily, expecting a text from a friend. Instead, a news headline makes you bolt upright.
Lando notices your change in demeanor.
“What is it, love?”
“That man, the one from the club … he was found dead. I would recognize his face anywhere.”
You continue to scan the article. “Doesn’t specify much, just that he was found in an abandoned building across town. Ruled a homicide but no suspects or motive yet.”
You wordlessly tilt the phone screen for him to see. He looks at it blankly, face impassive.
“Oh. Well, perhaps some justice has been served after all.”
You narrow your eyes at his mild tone. “Did you ...”
“Did I what?”
“Have something to do with this?”
Lando presses a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Me? Now why would you think that?”
“Lando.” You level him with a knowing look. “Did you?”
He meets your gaze steadily for a moment before sighing. “I told you I’d make sure he never hurt anyone again. A man like that doesn’t deserve to keep stealing breaths.”
You absorb this, unsure how to feel. “So you ...”
“I didn’t personally do anything,” Lando hedges. “But I have … connections. People who know people who can handle things quietly.”
You bite your lip. “You had him killed.”
Lando takes your hands in his. “Hey. Look at me. That bastard drugged you, dragged you into an alley. He would have ...” His jaw flexes. “I did what needed to be done to keep you and others safe.”
“I just ...” You wrestle with your conflicted emotions. “I don’t know how I feel about you essentially ordering a hit.”
He drags a hand over his mouth. When he speaks, his voice is low and controlled. “All that matters is he can’t hurt you or anyone else now. Try to remember what he did to you — how you felt. Helpless. Frightened. I wasn’t about to let him continue terrorizing women.”
You take a shaky breath. “No, you’re right. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around.”
Lando caresses your cheek. “You have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I know. But some people are simply too dangerous to be allowed to go on hurting people. I don’t take this lightly, but there are times when permanent solutions are necessary. Do you understand?”
Up close, you can see the storm of emotions he’s battling to contain. Anger, satisfaction, hints of doubt and guilt. You cup his face.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “For protecting me, even if it meant ...”
Lando closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I would do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.” His thumb strokes along your jaw. “You never have to worry. You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, no matter what.”
His voice rings with quiet conviction. You cover his hand with your own, meeting his solemn gaze. In this moment, you truly comprehend the depths he’s willing to go for you.
“I know you will,” you whisper. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”
Lando searches your face, shoulders losing their rigid tension when he finds only acceptance and gratitude shining back at him.
“I would be lost without you,” he murmurs.
You lean in, kissing him softly. “You’ll never have to find out.”
Drawing back, you offer a tiny smirk. “And clearly, I should never get on your bad side.”
Lando huffs a surprised laugh. The lingering shadows in his eyes fade as he pulls you close. You sink into his embrace, heartbeat steadying against his.
Whatever lengths Lando went to in order to protect you, to remove the threat hanging over your regained sense of safety, you know you’ll forever be thankful for this devoted, fierce, and tender-hearted man you love.
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ja3yun · 15 days
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please be real | p.js
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ex!jay x fem!reader warnings: angst, heartache, smut (mdni), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, teasing, pet names (princess, baby), crying, mentions of alcohol, drunk jay, pure heartbreak in the beginning, not proofread, anything else lmk synopsis: after a six-year relationship, you and jongseong part ways due to different needs for the future. when jongseong's first birthday post-breakup arrives, his struggle with your absence reaches a breaking point, prompting a late-night call from his friend that consequently reignites emotions and unresolved feelings. wc: 9.4k a/n: hi! it's me and it's jay's birthday so i wrote him a little something something. i didn't initially intend to rip my heart out as i wrote this yet here i am. this was oddly a healing one to write but i must warn you it does mention the reader not wanting to have children so if that doesn't appeal to you then this probs isn't the fic for you! as always, like, comments, feedback, etc. is all appreciated! ilysm and happy bday jay <3
A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.
Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.
Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.
“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.
“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…
Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.
You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.
“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”
“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 
You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 
This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 
Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”
Jay. Park Jongseong.
It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.
Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your 6-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.
It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once in a lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.
But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.
And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.
Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.
Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.
The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.
His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.
“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.
As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.
Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.
Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.
“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.
With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”
Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 
You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.
As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart. 
He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.
As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.
With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.
Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.
An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.
Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward, “Jjongie? It’s me, baby, look at me,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him with your soft voice.
As your fingers gently encircle his clenched fist, Jongseong's body tenses at the touch. Slowly, he turns his gaze towards you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.
He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.
"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.
Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own anguish, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.
"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.
He leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation he's been yearning for.
It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.
Turning your face to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”
“You sure?” Jake asks, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.
“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you.
Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves cumbersome as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.
"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.
His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.
With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.
"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.
Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.
You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount he consumed.
“Like two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend.
"Oh, baby..." you sigh softly, feeling a wave of empathy wash over you. Returning your attention to Jongseong, you press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. His response is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace.
You need to get him home, he’s a mess and the longer he stays like this, the more his body is going to wear out. 
With a gentle hand, you stroke his hair, your touch a soothing caress against his trembling form. Despite the chaos swirling around you, you find a semblance of peace in this intimate moment, anchored by the bond that still lingers between you.
"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, drawing back as he eases up his grip on you. His friends go to help you but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."
Sunghoon shakes his head, concern etched on his face. "He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the flat without us," he protests.
But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up, "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute.
Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.
Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose now that he has relaxed slightly.
You slide into the driver's seat, the engine humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.
_____
Arriving at his house makes you more nervous than before. This wasn’t just his flat, it used to be your shared home, the place you lived for 2 and half years and made countless memories in.
You were the one to move out and find your own place, thinking it was best since your work was further away and you could find an apartment closer to it. But the truth is, you just couldn’t face being reminded of him in each room and in the pieces of furnishings.
It was selfish of you to leave him with the remnants of your relationship surrounding him, all you thought about was you and your needs, neglecting to think about how he might feel being surrounded by nothing but memories.
Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.
As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.
You push your thoughts down and make your way to your once-shared bedroom, walking through the memories and heaving your ex-boyfriend along slowly. His nose nudges into your hair, sweeping in your scent as he loses himself in the feeling of you.
As you reach the familiar threshold, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet longing. This room, once a sanctuary where you both shared your laughter and bodies, now serves as a poignant reminder of the love you've lost.
Gently, you ease Jongseong onto the bed, sitting him up, “I’m going to get you some clean boxers okay?” you ask him but he’s not here, not really, so you make your way to the drawers on the other side of the room.
Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.
“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.
Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.
You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hellow Kitty print that you've always teased him about.
Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.
As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.
His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.
"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.
“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.
Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 
He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.
But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.
“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”
Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 
"Please, Princess," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 
His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.
With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.
Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.
You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 
Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.
You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.
“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.
_____
Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.
Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 
Even if he did want to open them he couldn’t because they are being held together so tight by something. Was he crying last night? Actually, what even happened last night?
He replays the fragments of the evening in his mind, a few scattered images begin to surface - Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the raucous atmosphere of the bar, and the ill-advised decision to ride the mechanical bull. And then nothing.
As he tries to recounter the night, you see him attempt to pry his eyes open and decide to help him out. Swiping your thumb over his eyes, you wipe away the mix of his dried-in tears and sleep. He looks so confused when you touch him and his body tenses.
Either he is having a severe case of hallucinations to the point where he is starting to physically feel you or the girl that he took home last night resembles your touch. God, how he hoped it was the first one. 
Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.
“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.
You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 
All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.
He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.
The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.
Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.
As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.
"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."
You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.
The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 
All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”
“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.
"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."
You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements—this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.
But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.
You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.
“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.
Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”
It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 
“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”
Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.
“That’s okay.”
“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?
"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"
Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is laying himself bare to you.
But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."
You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.
"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?
Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.
So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.
"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.
In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 
"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.
"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.
Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.
You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.
His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.
You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.
It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.
Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 
The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 
You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.
He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.
Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.
“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.
"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.
With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.
Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.
"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.
With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.
You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.
You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.
As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.
Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.
“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.
Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.
But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.
“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.
“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.
Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”
“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.
Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.
With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.
His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.
"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 
Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.
"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"
You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."
Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.
"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."
Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.
"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.
The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 
Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”
You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.
You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."
With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."
As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.
Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.
His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."
In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."
Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.
With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.
Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.
“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.
After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.
Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.
As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.
With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.
In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 
His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.
After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 
But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.
He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.
“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.
You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”
“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.
The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 
Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.
You need one another to extinguish the fire.
“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.
“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 
Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.
His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 
He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.
“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”
He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 
You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.
“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.
Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.
“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.
Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.
“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.
So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.
Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”
You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.
“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.
So with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.
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princessbrunette · 22 days
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rafe had been trying to pick a fight with bunny!reader all day due to his bad mood. however, due to her being a little ray of pink glittery sunshine — it just wasn’t happening.
first, the problem was the pink glittery dildo in your dresser that he found whilst snooping due to boredom, waiting for you to be done in the shower. he argues with himself whilst you sit at your vanity, giggling and happily doing your makeup.
“you tellin’ me you need that shit? ‘cus… ‘cus if that’s the case, don’t come begging for dick every thirty minutes when clearly you could be fixing your own problems.” he rants, huffing as you carefully brush mascara through your eyelashes.
“its not the same! pluuuus, i haven’t used that thing in ages. dont even know where you found it, daddy.” you’re clearly amused and it’s making things worse, locking eyes with your boyfriend through the mirror as he stands with his hands on his hips.
“think i’m stupid, right? if you weren’t still using this thing you would have thrown it in the trash.”
you spin on your stool, giving him a convincing pout. “i only use it when you go away on business trips with your dad, ‘cos i just miss you so much.”
he blinks, clearly not out of juice.
“you need to learn a little patience and self discipline, alright — you’ll appreciate this dick more without the fuckin’ silicone version.” he drawls and you giggle again at his word choice before bringing your manicured fingers to your lips to stop yourself.
“m’attached to it rafey. i like it. its pink and glittery and i’m not throwing it away.” you stand your ground, and his jaw ticks, looking around once more at the toy laying on your bed.
“cant do all the shit i do n’you know it… right? you call me when that toy fuckin’ chokes you out how you like it or spits in your damn asshole and shoves its thumb in there. yeah?” he mouths off before leaving the room, caring less and less about the argument as time goes on. now you really couldn’t fight him — he was playing dirty, and that made you horny.
his fighting spirit is given a new lease of life downstairs in the kitchen, when you accidentally blurt out the wrong name whilst speaking to him.
you’re giggling uncontrollably once more, grabbing at his shirt in the kitchen attempting to pull you closer as he holds his hands up, pretending to be totally disgusted.
“nah, who the fuck is that — huh? nate?”
“gosh, rafey — he’s from gossip girl! i was just thinkin’ about the show and your names sound similar! was an accident!” the fact you don’t sound sorry in the slightest is grinding his gears, not hugging you back when you manage to wrap your arms around him. “daddy hug me back.” you pout, and he peels you back with his hands on your shoulders.
“on thin fuckin’ ice today… alright?” he raises his eyebrows. you smile and nod, earrings jangling like there wasn’t a thought in your head.
it’s on the way to the country club that he’s really had enough, insisting on playing your music in the car, constantly winding down the volume to ask questions that didn’t need to be asked. your delicate hand reaches out for the volume toggle once more and he smacks it away.
“if you’re going to ask me if i’d still love you as a worm, or whatever bullshit you’ve conjured up — i suggest staying quiet, yeah? already told you that you’re pushing it today.”
he doesn’t have to look at you to know your smile is spreading.
“that wasn’t my question, but would you?”
the car pulls over to the side of the road with a swiftness, and he turns his body in his seat. you look unbothered as ever.
“why’d we stop?”
“you’re uh, you’re goin’ in the trunk. okay?” he rasps slowly, nodding his head like it would hypnotise you into agreeing. somehow, it worked — because your grin remains.
“okay!”
he marches over to your side and yanks you out before walking you round the back and opening the trunk. “i’m serious. get in.”
you do with no complaints — and by the time he is back in the drivers seat, he believes he’s taken it too far. however there’s no banging around, no crying, no screaming for him to let you out — so he drives away. the silence is rewarding, but he doesn’t feel great about it.
when he pulls up to the country club, he’s quick to walk around the backside of his truck and open up the trunk, relieved to see you happy as a clam — and lifts you out from under your arms. “that was fun! it was like you were a kidnapper, but also my boyfriend.” your eyes have a twinkle to them as he marches you towards his group of friends, gawking with questioning gazes.
“yeah you like that shit? ‘that turn you on?” he bites back sarcastically, but you nod anyway.
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distantdarlings · 4 months
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TRY THAT AGAIN // t. nott
RATING: R / 3.7K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert
+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Pansy finds out that a group of Gryffindor girls has had a lot to say about you and your relationship with Theodore Nott. They think you won’t do anything about it, but you prove them wrong.
+ WARNINGS - Fighting, depictions of a fight, punching someone in the face, bloody nose, wound descriptions - very brief, language, gossiping, fem reader, not proofread (lmk if I missed any)
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
IDGAF - Yeat
(Sorry I used Lavender as the 'mean girl,' she's just who I chose! I'm sorry if you like her :'))
---
The Great Hall echoed with hundreds of voices, each one rattling the glasses on the table. You caught yourself zoning out, staring in the general direction of the Gryffindor table. You blinked and shook your head slightly, knocking yourself out of your miniature daze. 
As you came back to yourself, you noticed a group of Gryffindor girls with judgemental expressions printed on their faces. You realized they seemed to be looking right at you. You glanced around, trying to see if there was anyone else around you who might be warranting such a reaction from them. There was no one. 
You waved gently—your eyebrows furrowed confusedly together. Once you did so, one of the girls sitting the closest to you rolled her eyes and turned back to her group of friends. Her long dark hair caught the reflection of the sun and flashed as she turned. You were taken aback at her behavior. There was always the possibility that she and her friends hadn’t been looking at you, but it seemed unlikely. 
A sigh left you as you turned back to your group of friends
“Did any of you guys see that?” you asked. Pansy, Enzo, Mattheo, and your boyfriend, Theo, stopped their chatter and looked over at you.
“See what, baby?” Theo asked.
“Those girls over there at Gryffindor—they just glared at me like crazy,” you said. 
“Those girls at the edge of the table?” Pansy asked, pointing.
“Yes, do you know them?”
“Not really, but they’re just plain drama,” she explained. “Getting involved with them practically ensures you’ll be dragged into something by the end of the week.”
“Why do you think they were looking at me?” you asked.
“I have no idea,” Theo interjected. “But if they’re “drama,” they’re likely going to try and involve anyone, no matter if they’re as sweet as you.” He flashed you a charming smile. You rolled your eyes in response, giggling a bit with Pansy. 
“Do you have any plans for after dinner?” Enzo piped up, leaning into the table a bit.
“Not really,” you said. “I think Pansy and I are gonna have a bit of a girl’s night, though!”
She smiled widely and agreed. The two of you tried to get together and chat and paint each other’s nails every once in a while—just to keep each other up to date. She was your best friend after all—well, one of them.
“Yeah, and none of you are invited. It’s girl’s time only.”
The three boys sitting in front of the two of you rolled their eyes simultaneously. You both laughed in response. 
When your group of friends had completed your meals, you all agreed to head your separate ways with you and Pansy headed back to your dormitory and the boys headed to Hogsmeade for a Butterbeer. 
The two of you made your way out of the Great Hall and began to head down to the Slytherin common room. 
Pansy pushed her short hair behind her ears as she turned to you. “Actually, I think I did see those girls staring at you earlier.”
“You did?” you asked. She nodded and began to fidget with the straps of her backpack. 
“Yeah, when they came in. I’ve kind of been keeping an eye on them.”
“What do you mean?” 
“I, erm…” she trails off, turning her head towards the floor.
“What? What is it?” you asked, coming to a stop in the middle of the empty hallway. She paused as well, staring at you with a bit of concern in her eyes, almost like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Pansy Parkinson, you tell me what—”
“Alright!” she exclaimed. She blew air through her lips, sending a few strands of her bangs flying into the air. “So, the one girl in Gryffindor…that’s Lavender Brown…”
“Okay…” you asked, pressing her on. 
“Lavender Brown has an enormous crush on Theo,” she said, pressing her lips together awkwardly. 
“Theo who? My Theo?” you asked. She paused for a moment and then gave a brief nod. You considered laughing. Why on earth would you be threatened by some random Gryffindor girl who had a crush on your boyfriend? Number one, of course, they did. He was Theodore freaking Nott. Number two, he was your boyfriend. He was taken, and he was loyal. You weren’t concerned with the possibility of Theo cheating on you at all. He was a spooky Slytherin boy from an old money family. And if there was one thing that spooky Slytherin boys from old money families valued more than being the best, it was loyalty. Theo would not cheat.
“Ha, I get her,” you snorted. “I have a crush on him, too.” Pansy stared at you blankly. She said nothing for a moment, then smiled nervously. You could tell something was very off. 
“Look, all I’m saying is Lavender Brown has a bit of a track record around Hogwarts,” she shrugged. Your eyebrow quirked. “A track record of…home-wrecking, if you will.”
“Please, I’m not going to let some desperate Gryffindor bitch take my man from me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “How pathetic.”
The two of you began walking again, headed down to the dungeons. 
If Lavender Brown thought she could give you the slip, she had another thing coming. You didn’t care what people thought of you or how they viewed you as “Theo’s girlfriend.” But one thing was for certain, you weren’t about to get fucking played. 
The two of you rounded the corner and jogged down the steps. The Slytherin common room entrance stood before you, awaiting the password. Pansy and you tittered on about the little quirks of Lavender and her friends. However mean that was, you didn’t care. If she could glare at you and act like you knew her at all for absolutely no reason, you could talk shit about her with your best friend. It was girl code. Basically. 
Pansy spoke the password, and the two of you walked through the entrance, arms looped in each other’s. If there were one person in the whole world you’d share your entire life story (secrets included) with, it’d be Pansy. She knew you better than anyone—except maybe Theo. 
Pansy slid her robe off of her shoulders and set it on the back of the lush green sofa set before the fireplace. It was already lit and crackling comfortably as you took your seat next to her. You loosened your tie and set your feet up on the small table before you. 
“So, out of curiosity, when you say ‘homewrecker,’ what exactly do you mean?” you asked, crossing your arms.
“Well, do you remember Alaina and Joseph from fourth year?”
“Yeah, they were together forever.”
“Exactly,” Pansy said. “Until Lavender got involved.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I heard was Lavender developed a crush on Joseph and started flirting with him,” she started. “Well, on the realization that he couldn’t be worked away from Alaina, Lavender decided to take matters into her own hands. She started spreading a rumor about Alaina.”
“You don’t mean the Alaina cheating thing was spread by Lavender?” you gasped, pressing a hand over your mouth.
“Yes, I do mean that. Because she’s the one that started it.”
“I always had a bad feeling about that,” you sighed. “Alaina definitely didn’t seem like the type to cheat.”
“Yeah, but Joseph still broke up with her. He definitely believed the rumors. But when Lavender went to pursue him, he wasn’t interested in a relationship.”
When Pansy was done with her story, she sighed and glanced over at you. Your lips were slightly parted in shock as everything came to a climax. You couldn’t believe that someone would actually do that to a person over some dumb crush. When it was obvious that Joseph didn’t reciprocate Lavender’s feelings, why didn’t she just back down? But most importantly, would she try to do that to you and Theo?
“Ah shit, do you think she’s going to try and do that to me?” you ask, nervously nibbling on your bottom lip. Pansy shrugged. That was all the answers you needed.
“Fucking bitch!” you shouted, abruptly getting to your feet. “I can’t believe she would try that with me. How fucking embarrassing. Nobody’s interested in you, so you waltz around, screwing up other people’s relationships for a few minutes’ attention from a boy. Ew. She’s disgusting.”
“Yeah, I know,” Pansy agreed. “And nobody ever does anything. Alaina got kicked out of her own relationship. I don’t want to see that happen to my best friend.”
“Aw, Pans,” you sighed, smiling a bit. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said, returning your smile. She opened her arms wide, and you fell comfortably into them, wrapping yours tightly around her waist. 
“I still can’t believe her,” you said. “That’s like a bad movie plot. She’s actually pathetic.”
“I know!”
The two of you continued to chat until the sun outside had set far below the horizon. Students had walked past the two of you, back and forth, for the majority of the evening. But when the traffic had finally stopped, the two of you realized that it was probably getting really late. 
With a few stretches and yawns, the two of you followed the other up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories and slipped into your beds. After the evening you’d had so far and the shit you’d talked, you were exhausted and ready for bed. 
You collapsed against your pillow and crossed your hands over your stomach. The green canopy over your head shimmered beneath the moonlight.
Despite, how tired you are, you kept going back to what Pansy had said. That Lavender had lied and spread rumors about Alaina, that she’d ruined her relationship and might try to do it to yours. The thought of Theo thinking you had cheated on him and hooking up with Lavender later made you sick. You had to roll over to avoid the thought. Surely, he’d know better, right? You weren’t sure. How would you react if someone had told you that Theo had cheated on you? You groaned and pressed one of your pillows over your face. 
Everything within you was saying to quiet the nerves in your head as quickly as you could and to fall asleep. These sorts of thoughts were doing nothing but making you panic. Imagining Theo with another girl made you panic. You couldn’t stand the thought of it. Especially if it was Lavender Brown—certified homewrecker. You didn’t think you’d make it. 
As the thoughts of anxiety and jealousy swirled through your head, you found yourself drifting further and further off. The light of the moon was becoming dimmer by the second as you lay there. It wouldn’t be much longer until you were out like a light. You figured it was going to be a rather peaceful sleep despite your current worries. 
Your eyes shut, and you were asleep.
x x x 
The next morning, your eyes opened just before your alarm. Besides the fact that that never happened, you had a strange feeling in your gut, like something was different today. You didn’t know what exactly, but it made you nervous. You made a mental note to ask Theo if everything was okay as soon as you got downstairs for breakfast. 
You tossed a robe around your pajamas, not bothering to switch into your school uniform yet. There was still around an hour before classes started, and you figured you’d have plenty of time to change. In fact, you thought, you might just run down and grab a quick nibble of something to eat. You’d talk to Theo as soon as you could. 
The stone floors were cold as you slid your feet into a pair of woolen socks, then a pair of personal boots. As small as your dorm room was, you’d imagine that the firepit in the center of the room would do more for the temperature. But, you always found yourself freezing in the mornings as you were preparing for first period. Maybe it was just you—
“Good morning, friend,” Pansy said lowly, her voice still raspy from sleep. She jogged over to you from her bed on the opposite side of the room.
“Good morning,” you returned. “Wanna grab some breakfast?”
“Sounds good to me,” she yawned, looping her arm through yours. You found that she was always the one who initiated that small show of affection, but it felt good. The fact that you had a female friend who genuinely cared for you made your heart light up. With all of the worry over those girls last night, it made you realize how truly grateful you were a friend not involved in drama. At the thought, you flashed her a smile, to which she returned with a goofy expression. 
The two of you giggled a bit as you turned the corner and climbed the main staircase, headed directly for the Great Hall. You could practically smell all of the food from here. On second thought, maybe you would stay for a full meal. If there was one thing you truly loved about Hogwarts—besides the obvious—it was the food. 
As the two of you made the final walk down the grand hall, you noticed something. Perhaps it was all in your head or had something to do with the odd feeling you had when you woke up, but you felt like everyone was staring at you. It felt like every face you glanced at already had eyes directed at you. You broke the contact awkwardly each time, trying to ignore the strange attention. Whatever was going on, you really were not a fan. 
“Pansy, is everyone staring at us?” you whispered, nudging her side with your elbow. She glanced around.
“It kind of seems like it, doesn’t it?” she said. “Hold on.”
She pulled away from you suddenly, leaving you to stop in the middle of the hallway. She approached a small group of girls gathered in the corner just before the Great Hall. You watched from where you were standing, trying to overhear what she was saying. She tapped one of the girls’ shoulders and began conversing with them. 
You thought you recognized a few of them—some Slytherin girls from your Potions class. 
After a few moments of you loitering awkwardly in the middle of the hallway, Pansy finally jogged back over. Her face was flushed, and her eyebrows were drawn tightly together. She looked as if she was deep in thought.
“Pans, what is it?” you asked, grabbing her arm. 
“That bitch from yesterday…” she trailed off. Lavender Brown?
“What about her?” you asked. 
“It seems like she has a bit of an issue keeping her mouth shut.” She pointed toward the wide-open doors to the Great Hall. You glanced over at the huge room. Your stomach sank a bit at the feeling of being involved in drama. Sure, you and Pansy chatted about drama around the school all the time, but you didn’t want to be involved in it. Was that bad? You didn’t know. A sigh left you.
You clenched your fists, feeling pops ripple through the knuckles. You were going to handle whatever was going on right now. There were thousands of things way more important than some stupid girl trying to disrupt your life. And, the worst of it was, she hardly knew you. What was her fucking problem? The thoughts ramped up your anger, but you pushed it down. You were just going to talk to her. 
You walked through the doors of the Great Hall and quickly surveyed the room. Still, it felt as though everyone was staring at you. You tried to ignore it as you spotted Lavender and her group of friends. They stood around the Gryffindor table, with her sitting on the edge of it with one leg crossed over the other. She appeared to be telling them each something, but how she sat up straight and glanced around so often gave you a bad feeling. You swallowed thickly and calmly walked over to her. 
As you came within a few feet of her, her friends began to notice and alerted her to your presence. Her eyes found yours, and she immediately shut up. 
“Hey, Lavender,” you said politely, forcing a smile. Each of her friends gave you a different type of glare.
“Hey,” she said bluntly. Her expression was very hesitant. 
“Can I talk to you?” you asked. She said nothing. “Alone?”
“Anything you need to say to me, you can say around my girls,” she said, a bit of an attitude shining through. She pursed her lips.
“Okay, well, what I have to say is for you, not your ‘girls,’” you mocked. Her eyebrow quirked. With every word that left your mouth, her friends reacted in some way. It seemed they were only egging her on. 
“I think I’ll stay right here,” she said. You refrained from rolling your eyes.
“Alright, well, have it your way. I’ve just heard a bit of a rumor flying around. A few people have told me that you’re saying some…rude things about me, and I wanted to ask why. I mean, I don’t even know you.” You chuckled slightly. A few of her friends rolled their eyes.
“I’m not concerned about that,” she said. “I’m concerned about something else.”
“Then why are you saying things about me?” you asked. She sighed and got to her feet, closing the distance between the two of you a bit. You took a small step back. The last thing you wanted was for her to be right in your face. Her friends gathered behind her a bit. 
“Um, because I can do what I want,” she said, crossing her arms. “Free country, right?” 
“Sure…but I really would like you to stop,” you explained. “It’s upsetting me and my friends.”
“I don’t really give a fuck,” she said. Her friends laughed a bit at your shocked expression. You were struggling to wrap your head around why she would have a reason to talk about you if you’d never even had a conversation with the girl. 
“Last time I’m going to ask, or I’m going to the Headmaster’s, Lavender,” you threatened.
“Do what you want—I’m not fucking scared of you,” she challenged, crossing her arms. “It’s not like you’re actually going to do anything.” Your fists clenched. 
“Lavender, I’m asking you nicely. Stop talking about me, or I’ll make it a problem.”
“Ooh,” she teased, her friends tittering along. “What are you going to do? Are you going to run to the Headmaster’s just like you always do? ‘Oh, Professor Dumbledore, please help! There are students who are being mean to me—”
“Shut up, Lavender,” Pansy said, appearing behind you. “You’re fucking pathetic.” 
A shock of pride flew through your chest at the bit of backup Pansy provided. You were feeling a bit outnumbered with Lavender’s posse. 
“Was I talking to you, bitch?” 
“Hey! Don’t fucking call her that!” you said, your voice raising a bit.
“Aw, I don’t think I’ve ever even heard you say a bad word,” Lavender mocked you. “You know, considering you are such an insufferable loser. Theo must be so fucking embarrassed of you.”
“What the hell did you just say?” 
“I said, your boyfriend—” she took another step closer to you; you were practically chest to chest—“is embarrassed of you, little girl. Maybe he should try a woman on for size.” She laid a rough poke to your chest. Your arms rippled at the feeling.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
“What, like this?” she poked you again, her false nails digging into your flesh. Before she could drop her hand away from you again, you’d turned and swung a violent punch at her.
Her friends screamed loudly as she crumpled to the ground, her hands pressed to her face. She shrieked at the top of her lungs, quieting everyone in the Great Hall. Per usual student behavior, groups of the Hall’s occupants raced over to try and get a glimpse at you beating the shit out of Lavender Brown.
Her friends fell away from her quickly as you dropped down on top of her, thighs straddling her chest, and wailed on her. So much for them standing by her. Punch after punch landed on her dumb fucking face. You were at the point now where the pain in your fists was hardly detectable anymore.
Jeers of encouragement erupted around you as fellow students circled the two of you—Pansy had been pushed back in the midst of the commotion. As you glanced around for your friend, the girl below you managed to shove her fist upward and land a lucky strike right to your nose. Your head snapped back at the motion, your hands coming up to cover the blood that spurted from each nostril. 
You tasted metal and sweat as you leaned back down and continued your assault on her face. 
“Not so confident now, huh, bitch?” you shouted in her face, laying a swift slap across her cheek. 
Suddenly, you felt rough hands beneath your armpits as you were yanked backward. Despite the resistance, you fought against the unknown person, trying to get back at Lavender.
“Yeah, you fucking cunt, you wanna fuck with me?” you yelled, thrashing against the person behind you. “Wanna try it again? How about any of your fucking friends?”
“Hey, stop, stop!” Theo grabbed your wailing fists, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. He yanked you away from the crowd just as a few professors began to arrive. Enzo and Mattheo were hung back along the Ravenclaw table, waiting for their friend. Amused expressions were pulled across their faces.  
“Merlin!” Enzo shouted, a smile printed on his lips. “That was bloody brilliant.” You refrained from laughing.
“Fuck, baby, I must be rubbing off on you,” Theo chucked. “You’re fighting just like your boyfriend.” A swell of pride flowed through you. He selected one of the fabric napkins from the table behind him and began pressing it beneath your nose. 
“Whatever,” you said, hiding a smile. “I’m just tired of people walking all over me because they think I won’t do anything about it. And I didn’t touch that bitch until she mentioned you and touched me.”
“You don’t have to defend yourself to me,” Theo laughed. “But I don’t think you have to worry about anyone messing with you anymore.” 
The three boys before you smirked darkly at his words. 
*Tag List: @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33, @xxrougefangxx (if you would like to be added to the tag list for any future works, please comment on this post, dm me, or send me a message in my inbox. Thanks!)*
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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months
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Attitude Adjustment (Chris Sturniolo)
matt version?
contains: angst, bickering, relationship arguing, smut, softdom chris, hair pulling, fluff, kissing, protected sex, female receiving, 1.7k word count
a/n: based on this idea i had. sorry it took so long i couldn't figure out how to end it. i still kinda hate the ending but fuck it we ball.
“It’ll only be for like an hour and a half-”
“Chris-”
“Baby. We’re out of video-”
“So you basically invited me over to fucking abandon me here?” I ask, unable to hide the irritation I feel bubbling up. I sigh deeply, rolling out of Chris’ arms and grabbing my phone. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch him rub his hand over his face and sit up.
“Babe, we’ve been together all day. Just give me an hour." He gets out of bed and stretches before heading into his bathroom. I know I’m being a bit of a bitch to him but I can’t help it. Our schedules have been so crazy lately that every hour I get matters these days. Seems like I never get him to myself anymore and it’s starting to grate on my nerves.
Chris comes out of the bathroom and heads to his closet, stopping to scoop his favorite sweatpants off the floor. I roll my eyes and grab my Airpods, popping them in my ears and turning my music on full volume.
After a couple of minutes, Chris comes over and leans down to kiss me but I dodge it, not ready to stop being petty yet. He rolls his eyes and reaches to pull my headphones out. “Can we please not do this? This is my literal job.”
I kiss my teeth and Chris takes a deep breath and steps away. Nick calls his name from the top of the stairs and he yells back that he’s coming before grabbing his wallet.
“Alright. I love you, baby. We can talk about it when I get back.” He says over his shoulder as he reaches for his door handle.
“Whatever, Chris. Just leave me the fuck alone. I don’t even care anymore.” I snap. Chris pauses his movements and gives me a look that has me squirming. He walks over to the bed and squats down in front of me, the intensity of his eye contact making me lean back.
“Stop talking to me like you’re crazy, bro. Am I speaking to you like that?”
“No,” I mumble, crossing my arms and refusing to meet his eyes.
“Alright so watch your fucking mouth.”
I nod, struck silent, and he leans in to press a quick kiss on my temple before he stands, finally heading out the door.
I sit there for a minute staring at the wall contemplating my sanity. Because there’s no reason why that was the hottest Chris has ever been to me.
*******
It’s quite possible I’ve never been this bored in my life. I’ve started three different TV shows on Netflix, started doing handstands, and scrolled until my for you page started getting weird. I’m half lying on the bed, half hanging off, when I hear the boys come back. I spring up and turn off the light, throwing myself into bed and pretending to be asleep.
A few minutes later the door opens and Chris comes in, hesitating for a second when he sees it’s dark. I squeeze my eyes shut, listening to him move quietly through the room. When he gets in the bed, I feel him lean over me and run a knuckle over my cheek.
“You know you’re a terrible actress right?” He laughs, reaching over to pull me into his arms. I smack my lips and yank away, sticking to my plan of being a brat. He sighs, dropping his head back on his pillow.
“How do you still have an attitude after two whole hours?”
“Thought it was only going to be an hour and a half?” I mock, turning over on my stomach to face the wall.
“Okay.” Chris sits up and turns on his lamp before flipping me over to face him. I blink at him rapidly, startled by the sudden movement.
“This is what we’re not gonna do.” He says, gesturing between us. “Either talk to me or let it go. Those are your only two options.” His tone is harsh but with his thumb smoothing over my arm, it doesn’t feel as mean.
I sit up and face him, crossing my legs. “I just want a day or two where I don’t have to fight for your attention,” I say quietly. Chris nods slowly, tilting his head like he’s thinking.
“Okay.” He says, pulling me into his lap. “I hear you. I’ll try not to film on nights when you're here. At least until I can see you more.”
I look up at him and smile, placing a kiss on his collarbone. “Thank you.”
“That was easy, huh? Talking and shit like we’re adults-”
“Don’t ruin it,” I say, reaching up to pull his face down to mine.
I kiss the corner of his mouth and it pulls up in a lopsided smile. I keep going, kissing the other corner before both his top and bottom lip. His eyes trail my face, darkening as he waits for me to kiss him fully. But instead, I slip off his lap, rolling back to my side of the bed.
“What are you doing?” He asks with a frown, leaning so he’s hovering over me. I smile and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Just wanted to see how much you want to kiss me,” I say casually, tangling my fingers into his hair.
Chris leans down and presses his lips to mine roughly, pushing my head into the pillow and anchoring a hand on my hip. His other hand dips under my shirt, sliding higher as we deepen the kiss. He pulls away to start lining kisses down my neck, driving me crazy.
“I always want to kiss you. Even when you're really fucking annoying." He says as he slides down my body, stopping to place a kiss above my belly button. He runs his tongue back up the trail of my body before he stops to yank off my shirt and bra. The light from the lamp makes me a little shy and I reach to turn it off but Chris stops me. “Leave it on, I want to see you.”
He slides back up to kiss me again, sweeter this time and full of love. I smile against his lips and mumble low, “You’re such a softie.”
Chris breaks the kiss and raises his eyebrows, giving me a challenging smirk. “Oh yeah?” Before I can respond, he sits up and grabs my panties, ripping them off in one motion and tossing them over his shoulder.
“I always wanted to do that.” He says, sliding down to run his tongue over my hip.
“I’m going to kill you.” I breathe out as he moves closer to my core.
“I’ll buy you some more.”
“It better be Victor-” I cut off my complaining with a moan as he swirls his tongue over my clit. He pushes open my legs and leaves one hand running up and down my thigh gently.
I lace my fingers back into his hair and he looks up at me as he slides a finger inside of me. He picks up his pace, thrusting inside of me roughs and adding another finger while matching his tongue motions to his fingers.
I tighten my grip on his hair and moan out his name, squirming up until my head hits the headboard. Chris moves his arm to spread across my stomach and pins me in place, never pausing his movements.
I throw my head back and rock my hips up as I call out his name and tell him I’m close. He only stretches me out more, curling his finger up to hit the spot that always takes me out.
I turn my head and moan into the pillow as I ride out my orgasm, still calling out Chris’ name. He presses a final kiss to my clit and then pushes himself up my body. He kisses me hungrily before he leans over to his nightstand.
“Still got an attitude or what? Let me know.” He teases as he stands to take his clothes off and slip the condom on.
“Shut up, Chris,” I say, rubbing my hand over my eyes.
“Alright, so we’re still working on it. Got it.”
He flips me over onto my stomach and hops on the bed behind me, pulling me up until I’m arched where he wants me. I look over my shoulder at him as he lines himself up to enter me, his tip rubbing against my folds, and he meets my eyes as he pushes in.
He gives me barely any time to adjust before he’s hammering into me, both hands gripping my hips and pulling me to meet his thrusts. I grip the sheets, whimpering, but Chris doesn’t slow his strokes for a second.
“Wow, you’re quiet.” He says ruggedly. “Where’s all that fucking mouth you got?”
I open my mouth to talk shit back but he readjusts, pressing his hand into my back and pushing me into the mattress. Somehow he picks up his speed, digging deeper into me than I thought possible. I try to say his name but all that comes out is a series of unintelligible sounds and he laughs roughly.
I reach a hand back against his hip but he grabs it and pins it behind my back, using it as leverage to pull back and slam into me again. “You feel so fucking insane.”
The breathy candace of his voice makes me moan out louder and Chris gathers all my hair into one hand and uses it to pull me up against his chest. The new angle has me seeing stars and I throw my head back on his shoulder as he places sloppy kisses on my neck. He reaches down to rub his thumb over my clit and I buck against him, my body shuttering from the intensity.
I’m so close now and he can tell, gripping my face and tilting my head so he can meet my eyes. “Go ahead, baby. Give it to me.”
I do exactly as he says, maintaining eye contact, as I fall again. He throws his head back at the feeling, muttering a low, “fuck,” and moaning out my name as he comes.
He drops his head against my shoulder for a second, breathing heavily, before he pulls out slowly. I fall back onto the bed while he heads to the bathroom to clean up. I’m still lying motionless when Chris comes back out and sits on the edge of the bed. “Come on. Take a bath with me.”
I smile over at him and slide out the bed, following him into the bathroom. I sit on the counter as he runs the water and pours in my bubble soap.
He comes back over to me and stands in between my legs staring at me. “You didn’t say you loved me back when I left.”
“I just let you break my back. I think we’re good.” I say as I wrap my arms around his neck.
“Not the same.” He states matter of factly, leaning closer and brushing his lips against mine. I smile and then pull back, giving him a mock-serious face. “Christopher Sturniolo, I love you so much.”
He grins and kisses me again, deeper this time. “One more time?”
“I love you,” I whisper, chasing his lips but he pulls back.
“Again?”
“Alright, fuck off.”
He laughs and steps back so I can slide off the counter and head over to the tub. I get in after turning the water off and Chris follows, sliding in behind me.
I sigh contentedly, letting my head lay against his chest as he tells me about how filming went. I laugh at his stories and chime in softly, wondering how the hell I could ever be mad at a boy this sweet.
Well, at least until tomorrow.
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writing-fanics · 2 months
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Nothing lasts forever
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
[warning: cheating: angst: panic attack: implied death]
‘More than anything music box’
As you stood there, your heart felt as though it had stopped beating at that very moment. Your breathing started to slow down as your smile faltered and transformed into a frown. A look of profound sadness and sorrow took over your face as you gazed at the scene before you.
Your eyes were fixed on Lucifer, one of the most beautiful angels in all of Heaven, the one you had opened your heart up to and shared your deepest feelings with.
But now, you were witnessing him cheating on you with Lilith, the first woman and Adam's wife. The pain you felt was almost unbearable, as you watched the love of your life betray your trust and shatter your heart into a million pieces.
You could feel your throat closing as your breathing quickened. You felt sick to your stomach as if someone had punched you in the gut. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to scream. To cry, to disappear from existence. You couldn’t believe he’d do such a thing to you, were you not enough?
Were you not as beautiful as she is? Were you too clingy? To annoying? Why did he betray you and your trust?
He promised to always be by your side when you needed him, to always catch you when you fall. To be your shoulder to cry on. To never break your trust.
But here he was breaking that very promise and trust, leaving you feeling empty and hollow. The two of you were made for each other, and with the scene unfolding before you. Made you think otherwise.
“I love you, Lilith,” whispered Lucifer, as he stared at Lilith in awe kissing her on the lips.
Your whole world shattered as your back hit the tree, and you slid down onto the ground. Placing your hand over your mouth, muffling your wails. You couldn’t breathe and felt the world closing in on you. You were nothing to him. You sniffled quietly placing your head into your hands, and wept as you swiftly flew away.
You fell into a heap on the floor of your house, sobbing as you curled up into a ball. You saw everything and what you saw would forever be engraved into your memory, you’ll never get it out of your head. Seeing them like that, him like that with another woman. Made your stomach turn, how could he do such a thing to you?
“W- Was I not enough?” You whimpered, as you lay in the fetal position. Your face is red and puffy cheeks stained with tears, your heart aching and unbearable pain. You knew he felt what you were going through at this moment, and couldn’t care less to comfort you. Your love was bound and could feel each other's emotions when they became severe, and you knew for a fact he could feel it.
But didn’t care enough to comfort you. He was having too much fun with Lilith, doing things that he should only be doing to you his lover.
You thought he would never do such a thing to you. Never betray you and break your heart, and here he was ripping it right out of your throat. If he had noticed you would he have stopped? Would he have kept going? Taunting you, teasing you, on an act he’d never done to you. Such an act he’ll never do to you now.
You thought your relationship was good perfect even. Yes, you had the occasional fight but would always end up back in each other’s arms, holding each other lovingly. Feeling safe and secure in each other's warm embrace.
“I'm so sorry, my dear duckling," he whispered, pulling you close and showering your shoulder with gentle kisses. "Please know that I understand how you feel.”
"I forgive you, Luci," you said, enveloping him in a warm embrace and smiling through your tears as he held you. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead and whispered comforting words in your ear, promising to make things right.
You banged your fist against the cold ground; gripping at the fabric of your clothes, as you cried. The tears didn’t seem to stop and wouldn’t anytime soon. You couldn’t breathe, the room around you started to spin. You felt dizzy and nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat causing you to gag. You swallowed and gripped the side of your head.
You tossed it to the ground, screaming and crying in anger and frustration. “HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME!” You shouted, trashing everything that reminded you of him. You couldn’t stop crying, the things this man did to you. How he made you smile and laugh, how he made you fall head over heels.
You wanted to disappear and fade back into dust, your original form. To not be forced to live with this pain for all eternity, knowing that even after this you’d still love him. He’d come back and apologize slowly making up for it but…..
You stood there with the other angels, his siblings trying their best to comfort you. As you watched him be banished from Heaven, cast down with his new lover. Leaving you there alone in Heaven, with no shoulder to cry on.
You found yourself standing amidst a group of angels, feeling a sense of unease and trying hard to keep yourself composed. As you looked ahead, you noticed him standing before Lilith, his wings stretched out protectively, shielding her from any harm. The sight of him being so close to Lilith made your heart ache with a mixture of emotions.
You couldn't help but wonder if you were so unpleasant to look at that he couldn't even spare a glance in your direction. The whole situation left you feeling conflicted, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards Lilith, who seemed to have his undivided attention.
As you stood there looking at him, you noticed that his gaze had shifted to meet yours. It was then that you saw a hint of remorse in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. In that moment, a single tear trickled down his cheek, and you averted your eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the situation.
As you looked away from him, he noticed the tears that had welled up in your own eyes, and the hollow, defeated expression etched on your face. It was a moment of deep emotional turmoil for both of you, and the silence that hung between you was almost suffocating.
“Nothing lasts forever,” Azrael said, as he placed his hand on your shoulder squeezing it gently in reasurrance.
You shook your head and stepped outside of the courtroom, stopping at the stairs. You reached around your neck taking off the necklace, Lucifer had given you years ago.
You stared at it for a moment, opening it. A soft melody played, tears trickled down her cheeks as whisps of yellow magic swirled, around the locket music box. A duck swam in a pond while a swan, swam up next to it nuzzling their heads into each other.
As she witnessed the heartwarming scene unfolding before her, she couldn't help but let out a choked sob. A tearful smile graced her face as she watched the duck and the swan gradually transform into Lucifer and You, respectively. The two characters held each other closely, their embrace exuding a sense of comfort and security.
Lucifer, still holding onto You, took to the skies, flying around with exuberance. His laughter filled the air, and his smile was contagious. You, too, shared in his joy, reveling in the moment with him.
As they soared through the clouds, a vivid memory of their first kiss flashed before your eyes. You remembered how you had wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, and he had held you close to him. The moment had been magical, and it was a memory that you cherished deeply.
You smiled, closing the locket as a gust of wind blew the magic away, and you along with it, returning back to your original form to dust.
A/n: idk what I just created there’s no part ii for this unless y’all beg me for it but idk still]
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@froggybich
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pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months
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James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: You want your boyfriend's attention again.
Genre: Hurt & comfort (angsty fr)
Warnings: James is an asshole in the beginning, relationship problems (happy ending!), mentions of fighting and jealousy, crying, sexual harassment/non-consensual kissing, swearing (a lot)
"Wait, James! I'm sorry," you shout but James doesn't listen as he harshly pulls his arm away from you when you try to hold onto the sleeve of his jumper. Salty tears brim your eyes as you mutter, "Please, Jamie. You have to understand."
You almost bump into him when he stops dead in his tracks. "Understand? What is there to understand?" he states in a whisper, his voice uncharacteristically calm for someone that's so very clearly furious. It scares you. Your chest feels tight as he turns around and when thunder crackles in the sky, you jump.
"He touched you," Pain taints his voice and your eyes soften, "Rosier had his dirty hands all over you and you didn't even try to stop him."
You shake your head and your hands move to hold his cheek but he turns his head away, "I didn't want him to touch me! I s-swear," you try to explain desperately, "I just, I just wanted you to see me and — " You start but James interrupts you,
"Y/n, how can you say I don't see you? I love you! You're the only thing I see."
You feel like you're slowly losing your mind, "Then why don't you show it anymore?" Thunder claps again and rain hits your skin like small knives. You don't dare make a move as you remain frozen under your boyfriend's harsh stare.
"I show you I love you plenty," he defends.
You feel exhausted and your words come out jumbled, "No, you don't. I almost never see you anymore and tonight you spent all evening with your friends. I-I wore this stupid dress for you," You show him your dress and he looks at you with round, frustrated, eyes, "And you couldn't even compliment me."
James runs a hand in his damp hair and tugs at his curls in frustration, "I tell you you're beautiful all the damn time." He insists and you shake your head furiously.
"You haven't complimented me in weeks!"
James doesn't move and you can almost see inside his mind. He's thinking hard. "I haven't?" he asks slowly, genuinely trying to understand and remember.
You turn from him a little, tears pricking at your eyes. You close them, trying to erase what had happened at the party earlier. The music, the dancing, Rosier's lips against your ear, his hand on your arm,
"I can make him jealous, you know."
You had jumped, the drink in your hand almost falling to the floor. Evan held your hand and smirked his infamous smirk. "What?" you asked, your voice small as it's drowned out by the music.
Evan pursed his lips and ran a hand in his hair. "Your boyfriend," he said with venom and glanced at James. James, who was across the room with his friends, laughing loudly with his arm swung around Sirius's shoulder. You had blushed, a familiar pit forming in your stomach. You grasped your dress as Evan continued, "I can help you make him jealous."
In a moment of weakness, you looked at him and asked, "How?"
And then his body was pressing yours against the wall. Stunned, you didn't have the time to process what was happening as Evan's hand swept up your side and he whispered, "Let me show you how gorgeous you look tonight, Y/n," his voice was smooth as honey but his teeth nipped at your neck.
You made a small gasp when his lips found the corner of your mouth and just as your hands touched his chest to push him away, he's yanked away by his collar. James looked furious as he punched Evan and the party came to a sudden halt.
"She wanted me, mate," Evan said through a busted lip and, judging by the guilty look on his face, James believed him. James hadn't said a word to you as he dropped Evan and stormed outside. You ran after him, desperate.
Your eyes open and a tear slides down your cheek as you answer James, "No. You haven't. Not in a while. You barely even make time in your busy schedule to make conversation with me. I-If you don't want me anymore, you can tell me and," your voice is trembling and you have trouble finishing your sentence, "and w-we can break up."
James's entire face drains of color hearing you and his eyes widen. His hands shake as they find your cheeks and he moves in closer.
He looks you over, his lip trembling. "I'm so sorry," his voice is a mere whisper as he continues to look at you. You can see his mind racing, his eyes moving quickly over you as he searches your skin. "Y/n, did he hurt you? Rosier — did he hurt you?"
James leans his forehead on yours when you shake your head no. "Shit, baby, I'm such an idiot," he sounds desperate as his hands sweep up your arms and he looks at your body. "You're so stunning, Y/n. So beautiful all the fucking time. I'm so fucking sorry, love. I don't want to break up with you, that's the last thing I would ever want. I can't lose you."
You're overwhelmed by all kinds of emotions as you whisper, "Then why have you been ignoring me? Am I not enough for you anymore?"
James shushes you as he pets your soaked hair and gently guides your head to look up at him. He moves hair away from your face. "Don't say that. Please. You did nothing wrong. It's my fault. I have been so busy lately with school and Quidditch and – fuck – it never occurred to me that I was losing you. I took you for granted, love," he admits, caressing your cheek, "You're so sweet and kind to me I didn't even know something was wrong. I'm so sorry."
You don't want to forgive him and still, you subconsciously find yourself leaning into his touch. As much as you want to despise him for what he did, you love him more than you could ever hate him and James sees this. He holds your cheek and he strokes his calloused thumb against your skin. "You should be mad at me, love. I fucking deserve it," he says sadly.
"I just don't understand why you would think I wanted Rosier to kiss me," You admit, your voice small. James's heart tightens in his chest and tears brim in his eyes. He doesn't think you can hate him more than he hates himself at this moment.
"I don't know, Y/n," he admits, "I don't know what I was thinking but I- I should have listened to you," he whispers, looking down and you can tell he's replaying the moment Rosier crushed you against the wall over and over again in his head.
"Bloody hell, I'm a shit boyfriend. Some guy forces himself onto you and the first thing I do is blame you," he sounds angry with himself and you can tell even if you reassure him, he won't excuse himself so easily.
"It's okay," you try anyway but James quickly presses his finger to your lips.
"Shh, no. It isn't okay," he says, his eyes stern and he leans his forehead on yours. "I don't fucking deserve your forgiveness," his hand hovers over your form, afraid to touch you but silently pleading with his eyes for you to let him.
You nod and his fingers skim the satin of your dress. "I love you," James says. His hand touches your waist and then gently slides up your ribs. "I love you. I love you. I love you," he continues in a mantra as his lips press to your ear and you let out a sigh. You melt into his touch and his mantra changes, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. Shit, baby, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," You try and whisper again but this time his lips find yours to silence you. You're surprised but when James pulls away to make sure you're okay with him kissing you after everything, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase his lips. James's hands move up and hold your cheeks as he kisses you again.
The kiss is delicate and mixed with both anger and sadness. Your anger and his, his sadness and yours, as well as an abundance of soul crushing love. Jame's hand slides down to hold yours and he disconnects your lips. "How can I make it up to you?" he asks seriously, looking into your eyes.
"What?" your eyebrows crease.
James repeats his question without complaints, "How can I make this better? I want to show you how much I care."
You search his face and he looks determined. A smile tugs at your lips. "Oh, um," you think for a moment, "just don't do it again? Please don't forget me again." James's heart shatters again and he's convinced all he has left in his chest are sharp shards that will cut into him for the rest of his life.
"Never, baby, never," he promises as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "What else? What else, love?" James sounds desperate at this point.
You pull away and stare into his eyes. "Listen," you start and his stomach turns as sweat beads at his forehead, mixing with the raindrops. His mind starts to spin as he thinks of what you could say.
I think this isn't working. I can't look past this. I don't love you anymore, not after what you did.
"I'm not looking to punish you for what happened, I just want to move forward," you pause and James hangs on your every word. "I love you and I can tell you're really sorry. I know you, and I know you won't do it again." James nods his head, agreeing, and caresses your cheek, "That's enough for me."
You kiss his lips and then smile at him and James is sure his heart will explode from happiness. The rain finally slows as he listens to your words and in a breathless whisper he vows to never do anything like this again.
And he never does.
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Cherry Wine. aka - Cherry, Part Two.
everything feels like love when you're drunk... right?
pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. characters who wouldn't even recognise their own feelings if they smacked them in the face.
word count - 3k
author's note - I love it when people walk each other home... if you couldn't tell. I think some of our most honest conversations happen on the street at 3am. thank you so much for all the love on Cherry!! I hope you enjoy this part two. friends to lovers might just be my favourite trope ever. it gets me everytime :(.
as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics <3. thanks, angels.
part one. part three. series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
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His eyes are glued to you.
They have been since he watched you pour just a little too much cherry vodka into your red plastic cup.
He keeps trying to catch your gaze across the smoky room, multicoloured lights clouding his vision. There's some sort of punk song playing through a stereo system somewhere, the beat of the guitar thumping through the wooden floorboards and into Steve's bones.
You're laughing, head thrown back at something Eddie has said. He's funny, Steve thinks. But not that funny. He watches carefully, refraining from intervening right up until the moment you almost trip over your own foot and into the curly haired boy. Steve's moving across the room before he can even process it.
"Cherry," he teases, hand snaking around your waist to hold you upright. "You okay?"
You turn in his hold to throw your arms around his neck, looking up at him with big doe eyes.
"Stevie."
You say his name so sweet that he stumbles and almost takes you down with him.
"You okay?" you giggle.
"I'm good. You good?"
"I'm good."
You sway with him for a second, closing your eyes and revelling in the warmth of his hands on the bare skin of your waist.
"You're a little tipsy, huh?"
"Just a little."
"You wanna go home?"
You chew on your lip for a moment, weighing up your options.
"Can we go to your place? I don't wanna face my parents like this."
Steve leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, brushing the hair back from your face.
"Of course. Let's go, hm?"
"Let me grab my jacket. I'll meet you by the door."
You slink off upstairs, leaving Steve alone with Eddie.
"Just friends," Eddie mocks under his breath quietly.
"What?"
"Nothin'."
Steve stares at his friend with a brow quirked, stormy look on his face.
"All I'm sayin' is - I don't look at my best friend like that. Don't hold 'em like you just did. Don't have sleepovers either."
"I've known her since we were kids. It's different."
"I've got friends I've known since kindergarten. I don't kiss them on the forehead."
"I wouldn't put it past you," Steve mumbles, finished with the conversation. "Whatever, man. You don't get it."
"Oh, I get it. You're in love. Steve and Cherry, sitting in a tree-"
"Don't call her that."
"See? You're defensive over her nickname, because you gave it to her. Don't be an idiot, Steve. Life's too short."
"Yours will be, if you don't shut up."
Eddie takes that as his cue, shaking his head as he leaves to go and complain about the music choice.
Steve meets you outside, chuckling when he sees you shivering as you hold your jacket.
"Cherry, put your coat on. You're freezing."
You look up at him, slightly bewildered, and he fights to keep the smile off his face. Taking it from your hands, Steve slips the jacket around your shoulders, hands skimming up your arms to warm you.
"Better?"
"Better."
You slip your hand into his and begin to walk away from the noise, finally taking a deep breath when you're down the street.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," you reply, nudging him with your shoulder. "Feet hurt though. Fuckin' shoes."
You both stop, Steve kneeling down in front of you to unbuckle your heels. You look at him questioningly and he winks, cheeky and full of love.
He slips them off your feet and sits down on the curb, taking his sneakers off and gesturing for you to step into them.
"No, Steve. I chose to wear these, it's my own fault."
"I know, and they looked cute. But now you're going to wear these."
You step into the shoes reluctantly, holding back tears when he kneels and ties your laces tightly. Rising to his feet, he presses a kiss to your forehead before intertwining your fingers again, picking up your heels with his other hand.
You're both quiet, as you walk. Neither of you needs to say anything. It's always been this way. Steve's not good with silence usually, but with you, it's more than comfortable. Sometimes, you'll sit for hours in his bedroom doing your own things, content to just know the other person is there.
"Minnie Lawson kept asking about you tonight."
You try to keep the disdain from your voice as best you can, praying Steve doesn't pick up on it.
He does. He doesn't mention it.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
You keep walking, smiling occasionally when you catch sight of Steve's socked feet next to yours.
"What did she say?"
You mentally kick yourself for bringing it up, but take a deep breath and tell him anyway.
"Kept asking if you were single."
"And what did you say?"
"Told her she needed to ask you herself and that I'm not your secretary."
Steve cackles at this, loud and endearing. The sound makes you grin, whether you want to or not.
"Shit, Cherry baby. What did the girl ever do to you?"
"I didn't mind when she asked the first couple times, but the more she drank, the more she forgot. She couldn't remember if she'd already asked so kept asking again."
He laughs again, squeezing your hand where it still holds his tightly.
"She didn't talk to me."
"Didn't think she would."
He looks at you for a moment too long, your eyes meeting the floor to avoid his gaze.
"Mikey was asking about you tonight, you know."
You'd had a crush on Mikey in ninth grade, the summer after he'd gotten tall and started to look less like four walking limbs and more like a man. He was a nice guy, if not a little boisterous sometimes.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Said you looked pretty. Wanted to know if you were still with the Douchebag."
You chuckle at the hatred in Steve's voice at the mention of your ex boyfriend.
"And you said..."
"That he was in the wind, thankfully."
"Dodged a bullet with that one."
You lean into his arm, savouring the warmth of his skin you can feel through your jacket and his long sleeve shirt.
"Mikey wants to ask you out."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. Is that so hard to believe? You're a catch, you know."
"I don't know. Boys like Mikey never look at me, usually."
"I look at you."
Your breath hitches in your chest. It's like your heart has forgotten how to beat.
"Yeah," you whisper. "But you're Steve."
After a moment, you add,
"My Steve."
You rest your head onto his bicep, still clutching his hand. He leans down to press a kiss into your hair, resting his cheek there for a moment.
"You're worlds apart from boys like Mikey, Steve. He's nice, but he's not you."
You're not sure where all this sudden truth is coming from, but you're wondering if the cherry vodka has maybe hit you a little harder than you first thought.
"And you and Minnie Lawson aren't even in the same league. You've got nothing to worry about."
You both process Steve's words, before he starts stuttering.
"I mean, not that you, not that - it's not like you were worried, I'm sure. I bet you weren't. I just mean... you know what I mean, right?
Thankfully, you do.
"I know what you mean. I always do."
He stops walking, turning to face you on the sidewalk, hand never dropping yours. You're not sure where you are, but you know Steve knows. He'll keep you safe. Always.
"Okay," he breathes.
"Okay," you breathe.
"I love you," he breathes.
"I love you," you breathe.
"I don't want you to date Mikey Carter," he breathes.
"I don't want you to date Minnie Lawson," you breathe.
You both inhale deeply, following the other person's lead.
"I can't stop thinking about the other night," Steve whispers, so quietly you'd have missed if it you weren't so in tune with him.
Your lungs constrict for a second, all the air leaving you at once.
"Me neither."
You're stood in the street whispering to each other, frightened you'll burst the bubble you've accidentally created.
"I feel bad," you confess.
"Why, honey?"
"Because I... I didn't return the favour. I just let you get into bed and fall asleep. Sorry."
Steve's hands come up to cradle your face, eyes searching yours as if he's reading his favourite book.
"I didn't want you to. I told you, it wasn't about me, it was about you. I didn't... I didn't initiate it so I could get something in return."
"Sorry."
"Stop apologising, Cherry. You've got nothing to apologise for."
"Sorry," you reply without thinking, causing both of you to double over into fits of laughter.
Steve wipes the happy tears from your cheeks, gaze never leaving yours. You look at each other for a moment, feeling the atmosphere shift. The world could collapse around you both, and neither of you would notice. It's just you and Steve. Nothing more, nothing less.
He leans in gently, pressing his lips to yours in a featherlight kiss. He tastes like beer and spearmint.
"You're wearing your lipbalm."
"You've been chewing your gum."
He chuckles, kissing you again softly.
"You wanna go home?"
"Please. You're in your socks, and I look like a clown."
He looks at your feet and laughs, the sound much too loud for the early hours of a Sunday morning.
"Let's go, Cherry baby. My warm bed awaits us."
The stars guide you home hand in hand, Steve stealing the occasional kiss when you happen to be looking in his direction. You kick off his shoes by the door, running straight up the stairs to change out of your uncomfortable dress. Steve stops by the kitchen to grab you both a glass of water, bounding up after you and spilling half the liquid in the process.
He stops in the doorway when he reaches his room, breath caught in his throat. You're stood in just your panties, bare back to him, rifling through his drawers to find the soft grey shirt you always steal.
It's a sight he's seen before. Something is different this time.
"Where is it?" you ask, not turning around.
You know he's there. You know he knows what you're looking for.
This is what love is, he thinks suddenly. The knowing. The unknowing. The knowing that the other person knows. The other person knowing that you know. Unspoken knowledge.
"Bottom drawer, left," he chokes out. "Washed it."
You slip it on and turn around, pouting. The boy quirks a brow at you in question.
"Doesn't smell like you. Smells like your detergent, but not you. Will you wear it, when I leave?"
"Yeah," he chuckles, fighting the blush from rising across his chest. "Anything you want, baby."
Steve shrugs off his clothes, slipping on a fresh pair of boxers before sliding into his side of the bed. You're in the bathroom, humming a tune that he can't quite place but knows he heard tonight. He watches you through the open door as you sway gently, ready to jump up and catch you if need be. You pee with the door still open, and Steve chuckles. It's like you've been married for twenty years.
"Can you please turn the fan on? I'm hot."
"Anything for you, Cherry Pie."
You jump into your side of the bed, sitting up to face the boy next to you. It might be 3am, but you're both wide awake, veins buzzing with endless possibility.
"I've been thinking," you murmur quietly.
"Never a good sign."
"Shut up."
You both laugh, and you can't help but grin. What a miracle, you think. To be alive at the same time as a boy like Steve Harrington. To know him. To love him.
"Will you let me return the favour?"
It's a vague question, but Steve knows exactly what you're asking. He chokes on his breath, tilting his head to look at you.
"Babe, you don't have to-"
"-I want to. So badly."
Steve inhales deeply, willing himself to calm down.
"I don't have to, if you don't want me to. But I can't stop thinking about the way you'd taste."
The boy thinks he's died and gone to heaven. Dreaming, maybe.
"Honey... fuck."
Steve nods, bottom lip caught between his teeth.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Please. Jesus."
He's breathing so frantically, you're worried he might pass out. The last thing you need is your best friend unconscious.
"Breathe, Stevie. It's just me and you."
"Me and you."
"Always."
He comes back down to Earth, so you lean in to kiss him, all tender and cherry flavoured. Tangling your fingers into his hair, you push him backwards so he's leaning against the headboard. You straddle his hips, plush lips pressing into his neck, his chest, his collarbones. Steve's practically melting, a puddle of love and affection beneath you.
"Let me take care of you," you whisper into his ear, and who is he to deny you when you ask so sweet?
You crawl down his body until you're situated between his legs, thick thighs bracketing you in. You kiss along the inside of the muscle, nipping as you go and revelling in the way he jumps and hisses. It's nice to be the one in charge for once.
You scratch your nails along the bulge in his boxers, smirking when his hips buck up into you. You think, for a moment, that you'd happily lie here and tease him like this for hours, just to see when he'd snap. But this isn't the time for games, so you store that thought for another day.
"This still okay?"
"More than okay," he replies, all breathy and ungrounded. You link your fingers with his and squeeze, and all his nerves melt away.
You don't let yourself begin to think about why he's nervous. You know Steve's a ladies man, you know he's done this many times... so why is it different with you? You wonder if maybe you should talk about it afterwards. You're not sure if either of you are ready for that.
Mouthing at him over his underwear, you hum in contentment at his warmth. He's always run hot, every part of him. It's one of your favourite things.
You hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tug them down, throwing them onto the floor somewhere. The room is dimly lit by the lamp on the nightstand, the lightbulb casting shadows across Steve's slightly sweat damp skin. The fan acts as a soundtrack, white noise breaking up the silence.
You look at him and bite your lip, buzzing with anticipation. It's not like you haven't seen each other naked before, but it's different like this.
"Just... tell me what you like or what you don't like as I go along, okay?"
Steve smiles in adoration, running his thumb over your cheekbone gently.
"Okay."
You wrap your hand around him and curl your wrist, holding back a smirk when the boy whines. It's a pretty sound. You'd like to hear it again and again until he loses his voice.
Leaning in, you lick up the length of him, groaning at the salty musk. His taste, his scent, his sounds... it's all so Steve. He's the centre of your universe, everything around you just Steve Steve Steve.
Taking him fully into your mouth, a hand flies into your hair, tangling his fingers. He doesn't move you, just tethers himself to something real, something grounding. You take him as much as you can, working up a rhythm between your tongue and your hand. Steve's breathing as if he's just ran a marathon, chest heaving and lungs burning.
He finds his voice, suddenly.
"Oh fuck, baby."
"Shit, Cherry. Fuck, just like that."
"That's it, atta girl. Perfect girl. My girl."
"Oh, you're so good. So fucking good."
He tenses, fingers tightening in your hair once again.
"So close, baby. Don't stop. Please."
You double down on your efforts, twisting your wrist in that way you've figured out he likes as you hollow your cheeks and suck. The boy sees stars, vision going white.
The noise he lets out as he finishes will be forever engrained in your mind, a never ending symphony that no orchestra could ever recreate.
He goes lax, collapsing back against the bed as you swallow, never breaking eye contact. You stick your tongue out as proof and he groans, deep and gutteral.
"Kiss me," he chokes, too blissed out to move.
You crawl up his body and press your lips to his, squeaking in surprise when he slips his tongue into your mouth to taste himself.
"Filthy," you laugh, resting your forehead against his.
"You love it."
You shake your head, but can't wipe the grin from your face.
"I love you."
"I love you more."
After a second, you giggle.
"What's funny?"
"I'd like to see Minnie Lawson do that."
Steve laughs, loud and melodic in the low light of the room.
"She's got nothing on you, Cherry baby. No one does."
You process the words, heart stuttering in your chest.
"We should talk about this," you whisper.
"We will," he assures, tugging you into him so your head is resting on his chest. "Tomorrow."
Lines have been crossed, lives have been changed, but the stars above your heads remain the same. They'll always guide you back to Steve.
The lamp flickers, the fan hums, the crickets sing their night time lullabies.
The boy leans down to press his lips to yours. He tastes like cherries and every kiss for the rest of your life.
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@allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @enigmaticloki
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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months
Note
chris and the reader hate eachother but end up having to share a hotel bed
just tonight // chris sturniolo
summary: a trip with your friends turns into a hotel reservation mishap and having to share a bed with someone you hate part 2
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It’s no secret that Nick Sturniolo is my best friend.
It’s no secret that Matt Sturniolo is like a brother to me.
And it is no fucking surprise to anyone how knows me and the youngest Sturniolo that Chris Sturniolo is the one person above all that makes me want to rip my hair out strand by strand. 
I don’t even know how it all happened. It’s like it was meant to be. I don’t remember a time in my life where me and Chris Sturniolo weren’t bickering, throwing shit at each other, or calling each other foul insults. 
To others, it is another form of entertainment to see our arguments in person, but to Nick and Matt, it’s the bane of their existence. 
Their brother is mine. 
Which is why I am more than shocked to hear that the four of us are heading on a trip to San Diego with no one else to help break up fights. 
With Matt driving us, Chris sits in the passenger seat, blasting music that no one has a say on. Matt bops his head to a few songs, but as soon as he becomes comfortable with one, Chris changes it mid song.
“Hang on, I have a better one,” he says every single time. 
Nick sits next to me, half asleep with chunky headphones over his ears, blocking out the sound of his brother’s music taste. I wish I could say I’m doing the same, but my airpods died 20 minutes into the drive, so I’m stuck in the backseat staring out the window, contemplating throwing myself onto the highway at 80 miles per hour.
We make a few stops along the way despite it being only around a two hour drive. 
The first was for some food. 
The second was because Chris ran out of his drink and insisted that he needed to stop for more.
The third was because Chris decided to dump his drink on me, so I had to change into something I had packed.
The fourth was because Chris then faced his consequences and had nothing to drink, making Matt stop again. He promised he wouldn’t spill it this time.
Then a fifth time because Chris had to pee. 
When we finally arrived at the hotel, we dragged our few bags inside and made our way to the front desk.
“Hi,” Nick said to the woman. His eyes were droopy as he had just woken up, so he rubbed them a bit before continuing. “It’s under Sturniolo. Four rooms on the same floor.”
The young woman’s eyebrows cinched together, almost like she was worried she had made a mistake. 
“The reservation is for three rooms,” she says instead, making Chris step forward like he is going to correct her. “And they are on different floors.”
“Woah, woah,” Chris interrupts, shaking his head. “I know you’re just doing your job, but we definitely put in four rooms. I don’t think anyone minds that we are on different floors, but we’re going to need a fourth room if that’s what we paid for.”
The woman’s eyes scatter across her screen before she frowns slightly. “I’m really sorry, but we don’t have any other rooms available.”
Chris spins around, tossing his hands up slightly. “What are we going to do?”
“Why can’t one of you share a room?” I suggest the obvious.
Nick jumps in first. “If you guys want me to edit all your shit, then I need my own room. I won’t be able to focus and get it done if there’s someone else.”
“Okay,” I nod, knowing he has work to do. “Then Chris can stay with Matt.”
Chris’ face scrunches in disgust. “No way. He snores.” 
I roll my eyes at his childish answer. “We don’t have any other options right now.”
“One of us is going to half to share with her,” Matt concludes. Chris makes a face as if to say ‘Not me!’
I scoff at how they’re talking about me while I’m standing right here. “Hello! Why can’t I get my own room since I’m the only girl!”
I’m ignored.
“Let’s play rock paper scissors for the room,” Matt suggests, making Chris roll up his sweatshirt sleeves as if he’s preparing. 
Matt wins. 
Chris’ eyes shoot open. “Best two out of three.” 
“Nope,” Matt says as he grabs his room key off the desk and heads to the elevator. 
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I mumble, walking behind Chris and following him to our shared room. 
I would have been quiet so Nick could work, but he was so adamant about being alone that I never even got the chance to suggest that alternative. This stupid room situation is just the fucking icing on the cake after the car ride with Chris. It’s no surprise that my luck would put me in the same room as him somehow. 
I brace myself for when Chris opens the door, expecting only one thing because it’s the obvious, but I still pray for a miracle. 
No miracle.
There’s one bed. 
I toss my bags on the bed before he can. “Dibs,” I call out immediately.
Chris kicks his shoes off. “That’s not fair. How are you gonna dibs a bed? Where am I supposed to sleep?”
I point to the balcony. “Out there. Just pray a rabid squirrel doesn’t bite you while you sleep.” 
He fake smiles at me. “Very funny. You’re lucky I’m too fucking tired after the ride to argue with you.” He flashes his phone screen at me, revealing the time. 2:12 a.m. We left at night to try to beat any traffic and so we could have an extra full day in San Diego. “Let’s just go to bed and hope we’re too tired to realize what a shitty situation this is.” 
I dig out some clothes from inside a duffel bag I brought, trying to find something to wear as pajamas. Since I was under the assumption I would be in my own room, I didn’t pack any pajama shorts or even athletic shorts that would do the job. I usually just sleep with a big shirt and underwear, and this was certainly not what I was anticipating. 
I let out a sigh and turn around to face Chris. I hate asking for his help. 
“Do you have any shorts or sweatpants I can wear to bed?”
He looks at me like he’s confused by my question. His tiny brain cells can usually only handle sentences with five words or less.
“Why didn’t you pack any?” he asks me instead. 
“Because I normally sleep half naked, which I’m not doing with you here. So can I please wear shorts or something of yours to bed?” 
He grins. “Say please again and maybe I’ll think about it.” 
“I’ll scrub the toilet with your toothbrush while you sleep,” I threaten. 
He reaches down and tosses me a pair of his boxers. “I would give you basketball shorts but they wouldn’t fit you. Plus I only have my celtics ones and they’re too nice for you to fuck up.” 
I take his boxers and stand with my clothes in my hands, looking at him. 
He looks at me like he has a problem with me. “Do you need anything else?” he says in a snippy tone. 
“Go to the bathroom,” I instruct him. 
“Why?”
“So I can change?” I say as a question, shocked and confused at how stupid he can be sometimes. 
He rolls his eyes and crouches to his bag. “I’m not fucking looking. Just change.”
In an attempt to withhold us from fighting in the first ten minutes of us being here, I sigh and turn around, facing the curtains covering the window. I peel my shirt off and toss it on a chair, putting on an old t-shirt instead. I turn around quickly, making sure Chris isn’t watching. He’s sitting on his phone. I yank my pants off and tug on his boxers before he has a chance to peek.
“You done?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’ll go to the bathroom so you can change.” 
I grab my toiletries bag so I can brush my teeth and wash my face while I’m in there, but as I make my way to the door, Chris steps in front of me. Looking at me, he pulls his shirt off from over his head. “That’s all I have to do. Now I’m dressed for bed.”
Do not look at his body. Do NOT look at his body.
“I still have to go to the bathroom,” I say anyway. 
He gestures his hands to my destination and follows me in, brushing his teeth alongside me and watching me as I do my skincare. Before I have a chance to snap at him and tell him to go away, he does just that. I almost ask him why he did leave, throwing myself off. I shouldn’t care. I don’t care.
He’s laying on our bed. I have to remind myself that this is just a shitty situation before sliding in next to him, still keeping a distance. We sit in silence for some time, both of us still scrolling aimlessly on our phones, trying to distract ourselves so we don’t have to talk. Finally, I have enough of the silence, and I am suddenly on the hunt for answers.
I turn over in bed, now facing him. He side eyes me as he notices my change in position. “Do you need something else?” he asks.
“Why are you so mean to me?”
He lowers his phone from his gaze momentarily as he thinks. He settles on, “You’re mean to me too.”
“It’s different,” I argue.
“This is just how I am,” he continues. “I act this way with my brothers. Maybe you’re just not used to it yet.” 
“It’s still different, Chris.”
He shrugs, not saying anything else, so I do.
“I feel like we could get along well but you don’t give me the chance. You never noticed we have the same taste in music and a lot of other similar interests? It’s like you don’t want to admit we could have something in common and I don’t know why.”
“I’m not petty like that,” he says instead. “I’m not going to blow you off because I don’t want us to have the same interests.”
“Then what is it,” I continue to push him. 
“Can you just shut up and go to bed?” he snaps.
I seriously couldn’t have had a worse roommate. 
I turn over, finding myself back in silence. 
“Are you going to need my boxers every night while we’re here?” he asks. 
“I mean, this is all I’ve got, so yeah,” I answer without turning around. 
It’s silent for a good 30 seconds before Chris breaks it. 
“Why don’t you just keep them?”
My eyebrows furrow, my expression bold even though he can’t see my face. “Why?”
“They look good,” he mumbles.
“Huh?” 
“You heard me.”
“I literally didn’t doofus that’s why I said huh?”
“I said they look good on you!” 
My stomach flips.
Motherfucker. 
“You want me to keep them?” I ask for clarification.
“I’m just trying to be nice,” he defends. “Don’t try to make it something it’s not. But even if I was trying to turn it into something else, you know you look good.”
Oh my god.
No, he needs to stop. 
I turn around so I can face him again. “You think I look good?”
He rolls his eyes so hard this time that his head shifts. “Oh shut up.”
The more I stare at him to try to dissect his answer, the more I see his face turning a darker shade of red. 
“Oh my god! You’re blushing!” I tease.
He sits up straight. “Am not!” 
“You are too!” I laugh, pointing at him.
He smacks my hand away. “Stop it!”
Everything suddenly clicks. Every time he was mean to me. Every time he called me names. 
But there were also the times he would stand in a corner with eyes shooting daggers when I would talk about a guy.
Everything makes sense. 
“You like me,” I piece together.
“Do not,” he lies. “You wish.”
“I don’t have to wish because you do!”
“You’re being childish,” he says, bold coming from him. 
“Just admit it so I can go to bed.”
Without an answer he shoves his hand into my shoulder, pushing me away from him. I do the same back, but when I expect him to do it again, he grabs my wrist and yanks me towards him instead.
We both halt before our faces touch.
I watch him gulp.
“Tell me not to do it,” he practically begs.
I know exactly what he’s talking about. I know we shouldn’t but I sort of just want to know what would happen. Would anything come out of it? Would we both decide it was stupid and we won’t talk about it ever again and swear it won’t leave this hotel room.
“I could do it instead,” I suggest.
He clearly doesn’t expect this from me. His eyes were somewhere else until I finished my sentence. That’s when they flew to meet mine. 
He gives me one last look before grabbing my cheeks and pulling me into him. I fall forward, wrapping my arms around him for support before my lips settle into his. We mesh together perfectly, a long peck before our lips part and he’s trying to snake his tongue into my mouth. I let him, and I don’t even notice when one of my hands rakes through his hair. 
One of his hands drifts down my body, clinging to my waist. His thumb plays with the band of his own underwear hugging my body. 
I don’t know how long we have been doing this. All I’m focusing on is the few sounds that come out of our mouths, little moans and deep breaths, others being the sound of our lips fighting for dominance. Then there’s the sound of slight creaks in the bed as we shift around.
I’m caught by surprise when he pulls me into his lap, but thank god he does. I don’t move around on him. I don’t grind my hips into his. I don’t try to feel how big he is underneath his clothing.
I sit there with my arms around him, a lustful makeout turning into soft kisses again as he holds my cheeks, his thumbs stroking my face. 
I pull away for a moment to catch my breath, and I watch his face fall.
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I shouldn’t have done that. Oh my god that was so fucking stupid.” He runs his hands through his hair in frustration, but all I’m focused on is how his biceps flexed in the process.
I pull his arms back down, a measly excuse to have my hands on the toned muscle, but also to comfort him. “Hey, it’s fine. Why don’t we just go to bed, and we can talk about this tomorrow?” 
He takes a moment to think before he nods, placing a kiss on my cheek before letting me lay down next to him. Our backs face each other. We both stare at the wall in our direction, our heads clouded with thoughts. 
After some time, when I was positive he was asleep, I feel the bed shift as he flips over, his body now facing the same way as mine. 
His pinky hooks with mine in the softest grip. 
I let his hand linger, taking it slow before I drive this car off a cliff.
I face him, looking down at his chest before I place my head on it and kick my leg to lay over his. Our bodies cling to each other immediately. He holds me like he’s scared of letting go.
I can’t get over how good this feels. Just laying here with him.
But I also know tomorrow could be a shit show after these events, so I have just tonight to bask in this before it all goes to shit. 
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tunatoge · 4 months
Text
pairing: teen!s. gojo x fem!reader (use of "mom")
contents: gojo fucks up tsumiki's talent show (whoopsies!), mention of smoking and swear words, slight slut shaming
“my parents are really cool—uh, hi mom… hi, satoru,” tsumiki announces to the group of students and parents during her talent show. you glance at gojo who holds his phone up like a proud dad, recording the entire thing as he gives tsumiki a thumbs up. “and they helped me with this,” she adds as she wrings her hands. “this is for you guys… and megumi.” 
you giggle as megumi shifts in his seat, his cheeks a soft pink. you stop laughing when an explicit song starts playing from the auditorium’s stereo system, tsumiki awkwardly dancing on stage to the music. you snap your head towards gojo, your mouth agape. gojo stands up as he whoops and hollers, still recording tsumiki. 
“that’s my daughter!” he shouts as parents rush to cover their kids’ ears. “yeah, tsumiki! you’re doing great!” 
you cover megumi’s ears as you step down on gojo’s right foot. “satoru,” you hiss angrily, watching from the corner of your eye as the school staff struggle to pause the music. “what the fuck is this?” 
he looks at you, his blue eyes practically glowing in the dimly lit room. “what? it’s a good song!” he insists. 
“yeah,” you say as the music pauses and tsumiki bows before skipping away. “for people our age while we’re out clubbing and drinking! that was so inappropriate for kids!” 
satoru sits down next to you, ignoring the way the other parents glare at him and curse him out under their breath. “she told me she wanted to stick out so i told her i knew what to do!” 
you frown and you uncup your hands from megumi’s ears. he glares at gojo with you, easily knowing gojo fucked up. 
“i thought we agreed you’d stop helping the kids with their talent shows after you told megumi that using jujutsu for a magic show was a good idea,” you hiss, briefly turning around and apologizing to the angry mom behind you who kicks at your feet. 
“god,” the mom hisses after seeing your face, “of course it’s some stupid teen parents.” 
you frown at her words, keeping megumi from jumping up and attempting to fight the lady. you excuse yourself, squeezing past knees as they look at you and glare. 
“did you hear what that little girl said?” someone whispers to their partner as you walk by. “she said mom and satoru, not dad. that’s gotta be one messed up family.” they snicker. 
you grit your teeth as you move towards the exit, quietly squeezing out the door and pulling a pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket. you always knew you and gojo were going to face backlash for raising tsumiki and megumi while being kids yourselves, but you never thought you’d be facing it yourself after the kids had taken to calling you mom and refused to call satoru dad. you sigh and move away from the school building, taking a cigarette between your lips. you dig around for your zippo, frowning when you can’t find it. 
“i thought we agreed you’d stop smoking,” gojo says behind you. you look up at him, tsumiki in his arms and megumi next to him. 
you swallow as you place the cigarette back in its box. “not like i could’ve smoked it anyway,” you say as you take megumi’s hand in yours and walk towards the car. “i lost my lighter, the one suguru gave me.” 
“i have it.” you look at gojo as he digs around in his pocket and pulls out your tarnished silver zippo lighter. he flips it around and around in his hands, index finger gently running over the engraving on its side. “hand me your cigarettes and i’ll give it back to you.” 
you sigh as you unlock the car door and situate megumi into his car seat. “i don’t need it if i’m not smoking.” you buckle megumi in and gently ruffle his hair before shutting the door. 
gojo sighs as he sets tsumiki in the car and shuts the door. “what’s wrong?” he asks, rounding the car and taking your elbows into his overly large palms. he smooths them up your triceps, touch airy and light. “you only ever feel the need to smoke when something’s bothering you.” 
you sigh as you lean into his touch. “i’m just tired of people assuming i’m some whore who spreads their legs for anyone. it really hurts when parents look at me with so much disgust when tsumiki or megumi call me mom.” you lean forward and press your forehead into gojo’s firm chest. 
“y’know,” gojo starts as he rests his chin in your hair, “those parents probably would have never stepped up like you did. you gave up the rest of your childhood for theirs and those stupid adults will never know that.” he pulls away and carefully looks you in the eye. “they can assume as much as they want, pretty, because the four of us know the truth and the truth is much stronger.” 
you let out a choked laugh as you press your head back into his chest. “yeah, you’re right. they’re just some stupid old people.” 
gojo laughs as he fully wraps his arms around you, rocking you back and forth in the parking lot of tsumiki’s school. 
megumi swings his door open. “can we go home now?” he calls. “tsumiki’s tired.” 
you laugh as you pull away from gojo and wipe at your eyes. “yes, we can,” you respond, digging in your pockets and handing gojo your cigarettes. he smiles and hands you your zippo in return. “mom’s gotta have a long talk with dad once we get there.” 
gojo grins at the way you laugh at megumi’s scrunched up face. he’s thoroughly glad that it was you who stepped up with him.
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