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hannieehaee · 12 days

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HOT TO GO!

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

wc: 7.1k

a/n: this is honestly just a silly and unserious fic that's mostly smut lol i hope u guys enjoy it<3

masterlist | patreon

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

"Hey, neighbor."

"Oh, hi, Jungkook. Did I forget to tell you my name last time?", you wondered why he'd omit your name, unless you had been too distracted last time staring at him to remember.

The next time you saw Jungkook was a day later at the apartment complex's laundry room located at the basement of the building. From what you'd seen the few times you'd walked by it on your way to the elevator, no one really seemed to use it. No one except Jungkook, apparently. You'd also come to find out that this apartment complex seemed to be occupied by mostly elderly people, with you and Jungkook being some of the few exceptions.

Eyeing you up and down in a not very discreet way, his eyes landed back on your face before responding, "No, just got distracted, sorry," he chuckled similarly to how he'd done last time.

This was the second time you'd seemingly caught him off guard, but you weren't complaining. The thought of your presence taking him out of focus gave you a slight boost in confidence, especially considering how attractive he was.

You eyed him curiously, noticing he had no laundry with him nor was he using either of the four washing machines located in the room. As soon as he came in, he took a seat on top of the washing machine next to the one you were currently putting your clothes into. When you smiled at him questioningly, he had no reaction, simply smiling back.

"What are you doing?", you asked whilst continuing your prior task, almost paying no mind to him.

"Just hanging out," he responded simply, swinging his feet back and forth as they hovered due to the stature of the washing machine he was currently sitting on.

"What, with me?"

"Yup. Just trying to be neighborly, is all. Shouldn't be down here all alone," he reasoned, "Can I help you? I love doing laundry."

You scoffed at that, "Really? You love doing laundry? Also, I don't need a bodyguard," you hadn't taken offense to his comment, but you'd found it somewhat amusing. He clearly just wanted to spend time with you, which admittedly made you feel slightly bashful. However, there was no harm in making him work for it a little more.

With a huff, he got off the washing machine and leaned down to help you organize your laundry, dividing it between colors, "I'm known as somewhat of a laundry fairy", he nodded seriously.

"Oh, so you do other people's laundry, then?"

"Yep," he nodded, "It's a whole profession. I part-time as bodyguard too," he joked, continuing to shuffle through your clothes.

"The perfect man," you retorted back, sarcasm in your tone.

"Exactly. You could make really good use of me," he winked, finishing up his pile of clothes and moving onto yours, beginning to place them inside the washing machine.

"Are you asking me to use you?", you braved it and flirted back, turning to look up at him.

The air in the room was comfortable, yet it now had a hint of something more. What it was, you weren't sure. Although Jungkook had hinted at being attracted to you when you first met a day prior, you'd never had a flirtation move so quickly. It usually took a bit more conversation before getting to the more suggestive comments, but the pleased look on his face as he looked down at you made you too excited to backtrack.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to get that. Was my self-invite to your apartment yesterday not hint enough?", he followed along, putting down the article of clothing he had in his hands to take a small step towards you, now leaving a very small distance between you.

"Oh? Was that what that was? I think I'm gonna need you to be a bit more specific. Spell it out for me, maybe?", you tilted your head to the side teasingly, almost as if daring him.

"Aw," he placed his hand on his chest, as if hurt, "That's my bad, pretty. I'll be a little more forward from now on, okay?", he coo'd, leaning down and letting his nose nudge against your own lightly.

"So, are you? Or are you all talk?", you dared him, tilting your face upwards, almost meeting his lips.

With a muted grumble, he closed the gap, pulling you towards him with a pull from your waist. Humming against your lips, he pressed you up against him, practically molding you to him as he allowed the kiss to become heated. The air in the room became even heavier somehow, causing you to mute any outside forces that could possibly take you away from a constant chorus of Jungkook playing in your head.

The kiss had no time for hesitance or shy meetings of lips as it instantly occupied the otherwise silent room with wet sounds of tongues intertwining and almost inaudible moans shared between lips. The harsh surface of the washing machine behind you almost felt like nothing as Jungkook's lips continued to distract you while his arms lifted you to sit on it. Legs opening, you welcomed him to stand between them, pulling him in my his shirt to ensure not even one second of distance between you was allowed.

Your head tilted back almost on its own accord as his lips trailed down your neck, humming into your skin after every kiss and occasional nibble of skin.

"J-Jungkook ... What if someone sees?", your common sense finally made an appearance, though you made no move to stop him.

"No one uses the laundry room here, it's fine. We have the place to ourselves," he breathed out between kisses, making his way back up to your lips.

With a scarily practiced finesse, his tongue snuck its way into your mouth, easing yours into copying his movements. Your resolve wore down quickly after that, following along with every touch of his on your skin. Despite not being one for casual hookups, it was impossible for you to deny the immediate chemistry you'd had with your neighbor. Who would casual sex with your neighbor going to hurt anyway?

His lips soon took your mind away from any further thought on the manner, trailing down your neck while his hands came up to wander under your tank top, tracing your skin with his calloused fingertips as goosebumps began to form. With soft hands and a rough tongue, Jungkook had your brain emptying at a worrying speed, now becoming a shell of yourself with nothing but Jungkook in mind. Just some kisses and some hand action already had you as putty under him, what a shame.

"Can I take this off?", he murmured against your lips, hands itching under your shirt as it rode up due to his movements.

"Mhm," you conceded, your own hands going under his shirt and feeling up the muscular skin of his back.

With your consent, his hands trailed their way back out from under your shirt, reaching down to help you out of it. Underneath was a tiny piece of fabric you could barely call a bralette, doing a terrible job of hiding the goosebumps on your skin or the hardness of your nipples. His tatted hand went up to toy with a clothed breast, murmuring praise against your cheek as he angled his head to look down at your chest. His eyes trailed to yours, finding them empty of any thought and far too wanting of more of his touch.

"How about this?" he practically whispered, one hand on your breast while the other went to toy at the strap of your bralette that had fallen from your shoulder to the meatier part of your arm, fingering at it softly, almost as if teasing whether or not he'd pull it all the way down or not.

"Yes," you almost whimpered, needing the skin-to-skin touch on your chest. Your back was already arched towards his chest, your body pleading him for more without any further words necessary.

He sighed once the job was done, your chest now fully naked for him and the rest of you almost equally as nude. It was only a tiny pair of shorts with some teeny tiny panties underneath that prevented him from your full nudity. In the meantime, he was still fully clothed. But somehow you didn't mind. His touch on your body was enough to keep you satiated. Surely you'd have your turn to enjoy his own nudity later on.

A groan left him upon hastily removing your shorts, now able to feel the heat coming from between your legs through the offensively thin panties you had on. Dragging you from your thighs, he placed you on the edge of the washing machine as he himself pulled down his pants just enough to leave him with boxers and some beaten up tank top. With a huff, he began intermittently connecting your crotches, bumping his hardness against your heat with a grumble. The art of dry humping might've been lost among many, but you were thanking any higher power that Jungkook was not one of the many to disengage with it.

"You're so warm already," he sighed, face pushing its way to your neck, nosing at your scent, "'n smell so fucking good ..."

Your nails dug to the skin of his shoulders, obsessed with the drag of his cock against you. He was hitting that sensitive, swollen spot that bad you wanting to give him a key to your apartment just so he could come over and do it over and over again.

"So fucking soft n pretty," he mumbled, "God, can't believe I got such a pretty little neighbor all to myself," he rambled on and on, "Gonna make you cum like this, okay, gorgeous? Promise I'll give you more next time, just- fuck ... just caught me off guard again's all ..." all his words were slurred, clearly marking the approximation of an early orgasm. What might've been a turn off for many others had your own high approaching just as fast. A hunk of a man such as Jungkook losing himself to mere dry humping? Sign you up!

"Me too," you almost whined, mouth open as you practically drooled at the feeling of that size and girth, excitement growing within you.

"Yeah? God, so fucking good n perfect," the praise was never ending, greatly aiding your impending orgasm.

With one last groan of your name, Jungkook's hips sped up, now dragging you more harshly into him in desperation for his orgasm. It was only a few moments into his own orgasm that you came too, too stimulated from his extensive play with your chest earlier on and simply too wound up to not find release with someone as attractive as he was.

In other circumstances you would've been embarrassed at how easily your body reacted to his own, but Jungkook seemed just as affected, still panting at the exertion his high had taken from him.

"Sorry," he chuckled breathlessly a few moments later, wide boba eyes staring at you with a shy smile, "I don't usually welcome people to the neighborhood by jumping them like that, hah, I hope I didn't overstep," he needlessly apologized as he helped you clean up with nearby towels and aided you in redressing you and himself.

Giggling at him couldn't be helped — he was far too cute. He was the perfect mixture of cuteness and hotness that it made you frustrated if you thought about it for too long.

"Jungkook, I promise you that was a very appreciated welcome," you laughed as you patted his shoulder reassuringly, stepping down from the washing machine.

"Great," he nodded with a smile, though still a but shy, "Let me help you with your laundry now, then? I won't jump you again, I promise."

"Maybe for next time, then?", you attempted to flirt, high fiving yourself internally when you pulled a shy chuckle out of him.

Next time you saw Jungkook was back in your apartment.

Maybe you should've expected him to be on the other side of that door, specially considering you hadn't met anyone else since moving here, but you also hadn't expected him to be so continuously forward.

Within less than a week of being here, you'd met Jungkook, flirted with him, hooked up in the laundry room and proceeded to wash your clothes with his aid — as it turned out, he really was better than the average person at doing laundry. And now, you were curious as to what the next thing to come would be.

After a few knocks on your door, you resumed drying off your hair and walked over to the door, skin still damp and thin robe wrapped around you. Being almost nude, you decided to be smart and look through the peephole before admitting a stranger into your home. Looking through it, you found the one person you'd hoped to see every time you left the apartment; Jungkook.

Had it been anyone else, maybe you would've bothered to ask him for a few minutes in order to get dressed before attending to the door. However, seeing as Jungkook had already seen you almost fully nude, it seemed dumb to do so. That, plus the fact that you were pretty sure how today's visit would go.

"Hey," he said casually when the door was opened.

Donning yet another tank top, the contour of his muscles could be easily seen as he leaned against the frame of the door. A confident and suave smile was on his lips the moment his eyes did a once-over of your body, clearly taking notice of the singular layer of clothing you had on.

"Huh," he hummed, "You're making this too easy for me," he chuckled, letting himself in when you stepped aside to silently welcome him.

"Hello, Jungkook," you ignored him, closing the door behind him, "Are you here to help me unpack?", you questioned upon seeing him approach the few boxes located in your living room and eyeing their contents curiously.

"Yeah. Figured you were taking too long to invite me over, might as well invite myself," he said distractedly, focus all spent on a bunny figurine he found in your boxes, mumbling a quiet 'cute' to himself.

"Let me get dressed and then we can start," you said, beginning to walk to your room while he sat on the floor, beginning to open some boxed furniture you hadn't even bothered to eye since its arrival.

Already in the other room, you heard Jungkook call over before you could close your door, mentioning something about 'You'll end up undressed anyways, but okay,' causing you to chuckle to yourself.

It only took you a few minutes to moisturize and dress yourself in some comfortable loungewear, able to hear Jungkook's ruckus all the way from your room. Despite his slight awkwardness shining through sometimes, he seemed to be a very confident guy, so it made sense to you that he'd made himself at home almost immediately upon his arrival.

Heading back to your living room, you found him sat comfortably on the floor, boxed materials to build what appeared to be a bookshelf laid in front of him while he eyed a manual. Originally, he had implied that his intention to go visit you had been for another hookup, so it amused you that he had actually taken his own words literally and decided to help you out with your furniture.

As you took a seat next to him, you decided to voice out this thought to him, "Wow, you're actually going to help me unpack?" you asked amusedly, hands reaching out to copy the way in which he assembled some pieces together.

He shrugged, "It's the neighborly thing to do," he reasoned, "Plus, the sooner you're unpacked, the sooner we can do more fun stuff."

Despite it being said so casually, it was more than enough encouragement for you to put your mind to the task, knowing that the unexpected help of your hot neighbor was way better than the alternative of getting all your moving in duties done by yourself.

It took about two hours to get done with most of your unpacking, combined with putting together the few pieces of furniture you had bought and neglected to build. The last of it was found in your bedroom in the form of a few boxes of skincare and clothing you'd been too lazy to unbox, opting to instead use whatever you needed at the time and leaving the rest unpacked. Jungkook tutted at you disappointingly at this, lightheartedly scolding you for not simply organizing your stuff as soon as you moved in and revealing to you how organized he was himself.

"Is there any box you want me to stay away from?", he wondered as he rummaged through one of the various boxes you'd moved onto your bed to organize.

"Nope, what do you mean?", you wondered, pulling out a hair dryer and placing it in its rightful spot before walking back over to the bed.

"Well, for instance ..." he trailed off, pulling out a tiny piece of lace you'd forgotten was in the box labeled as 'clothes' Jungkook was currently going through. He gave you an awkward smirk, his mind seemingly battling between being smug at the thong in his hands and affected by the thought of you wearing such a garment.

Immediately, your eyes widened, a gasp trapped in your throat before you jumped at him to grab at the lace, only for him to pull it back with a laugh, now holding it above your reach. You continued to pull at him, letting out an annoyed 'Jungkook!' to express your annoyance, but still laughing at how childish he was behaving.

He let you take hold of the thong after a few more slaps to his hard chest, laughing at your frustration. To prevent your further attacks, he grabbed onto your wrists, deciding to hold you against him as you let go of the panties and paid mind to him instead. Far too casually, he leaned down and trapped you in a soft kiss, humming against your lips as his hands wrapped around your waist and your own went to his shoulders. You damned him in your mind, chastising yourself for how easily it was for you to become entranced by his touch.

"You knew what was in there, didn't you? Hmm? Seductress," he joked against your lips, though the tone of his voice didn't make you laugh, especially not when it was said in an airy whisper between open mouthed kisses.

"Shut up," you grumbled, pulling him closer, unwilling to let the kiss end.

With masterful expertise, Jungkook managed to lay you down on the space of the bed empty of boxes, hands going under your shirt to trace the soft skin of your back. His lips trailed down to your neck and reaching down to the space of your chest not covered by your tank top, grumbling against your skin.

"You smell so nice," he sighed, "So fucking soft too," he continued, not shy in feeling your skin and even breathing you in.

Tuned with you, he disconnected from you to eye you for permission to remove your shirt, dragging it away from your body after a nod of confirmation from you and proceeding to remove his own. Your hands imitated his own, also feeling up his toned body as you continued to kiss. Now leaning atop you, he ground his crotch against your own, groaning into your lips at the basic pleasure he received from it.

"How far do you wanna go?", he murmured as he ground into you, "I'll do whatever you want. I owe you, remember?", he continued, referring to your encounter at the laundry room where he promised to fuck you properly next time.

"Do whatever you want," you replied, looping your lips again, "Just- fuck, do anything," you practically pleaded.

Chuckling, he nodded, opting to lay you down properly, moving aside any boxes that were in the way so you could lay all the way back while he trailed his way down your body, tugging down the tiny shorts you'd opted for a few hours earlier. You sighed at the realization of what was to come, ashamed to admit you'd been wondering how that piercing would feel between your legs.

"So soft here too," he mumbled, kissing up your thighs distractedly, making his way up to that area between your legs that was calling his name, "Fuck, 'n smell so good," his nose practically pressed up against the very thin layer of cloth separating him from your cunt, shamelessly breathing you in as he dragged his nose to press into your clit before pulling away.

A mute whine was pulled out of you, making your thighs attempt to close without much thought, only to make his arms wrap around your legs and pull them in opposite directions in order to separate them. He took a quick moment to pull your underwear down your legs, immediately going back to wrap around your legs to keep a wide enough space for him to enjoy you.

He began tentatively, almost as if testing out how he would go about having you. It only took some encouraging mewls from you for him to really put his heart into it, diving in as his tongue delved into your cunt, moaning against you. He hummed and groaned into your cunt, especially so whenever your hands would pull at his overgrown mullet, pulling him even closer to you. Taking advantage of his large nose, he nosed at your clit while his tongue played with your cunt. Your mewls and the scratching against his scalp should've been more than enough indicator that he had you at the palm of his hand.

"Baby," he moaned against you, refusing to create any distance between you, "you taste so good, fuck," he cried out, as if he were the receiver of the pleasure. But then again, maybe he was — or at least that's the gist you got from the commotion happening under you as the bed bumped with every movement of Jungkook's hips humping against it.

"K-kook, fuck, right the- oh, fuck ... right there!", you cried when his fingers joined in on the equation, tongue focused on your clit while his fingers curled inside you to perfection.

It was embarrassing how soon you felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't blame yourself, not when a 10 was on his knees, whimpering against your cunt and letting endless muffled praise leave his lips while his tongue refused to let out. You lost control of yourself at some point, unashamed in the way you pushed his face against you, closing your thighs around his head and ground into his face. This only caused a high pitched whine to leave Jungkook, following your silent instruction for more and giving in to you twice as hard.

"Cum, baby. Wanna taste, fuck, please," he pleaded, looking up at you for a quick moment, making your brain leave you entirely at the pretty eyes he was making up at you, practically begging for your orgasm to come.

If you were boneless and defeated before, you were more so now, losing yourself to your orgasm as the pretty boy continued to lick and suck at your release, humming as if he had just been provided the most satiating meal. The humping of his hips never stopped either, only accelerating upon your high and only halting when you'd gone down from it, insisting on pulling him up the bed to claim his lips, wanting to enjoy them while the arousal was still fresh on him.

"God, fuck, you're nasty," he chuckled breathlessly when your tongue quite literally attacked his mouth, insistent on tasting yourself on his lips. This was clearly not a complaint, but more like a happy realization, as Jungkook practically reached down your throat as he tongued at your mouth, providing you with your own taste and moaning endlessly as he did so.

"Did you cum?", you asked between kisses, eyebrows pinched with worry that you wouldn't get to play with him this time around either.

He chuckled, a bit embarrassed, "No, pretty. Almost, though. I can just finish myself off if you're tired or-"

"No!" you interrupted, not shy in reaching down to his still clothed cock, feeling the length through his clothed ad he shuddered, "Let me suck you off? Fair trade, right?", you suggested, wanting nothing more than that size inside you one way or another.

"Oh, you sure? I don't want to force you or anything-"

You interrupted again, gesturing at him to flip you over so he could be under you this time around, "No, Kook. Please? I really want it. Can I have it?", you decided to be a bit mean, playing up the begging under the assumption that a guy like Jungkook would probably enjoy it.

You were right.

"O-oh, okay, beautiful," he rasped, hands in a frenzy to undo his sweats so he could give you access to his dick, "Just, fuck, give me a second. I don't wanna cum right away," he blushed, giving you a sweet peck before leading you to your knees while he sat at the edge of the bed.

With an excited giggle, your hands joined his own to help him lower his pants and boxers just enough to give you access to his length — the same one that had dragged against you until completion just a few days prior. His groan at your touch was immediate, body physically shuddering when you wrapped your hand around it and eyed it with hunger. His hands laid on his thighs, fingers itching as he attempted to hold his reactions back.

"Can I?", you asked, leaning closer to it as your hand remained wrapped around it.

"Yes, just, fuck, don't laugh when I cum too soon," he warned with a whine.

Another giggle left you before finally lowering your head down to his own head, lips wrapping around it and suctioning meanly. With a hum, your tongue lightly licked at the tip, earning a mixture of a groan and a sigh from the man north of you. Your hand remained wrapped around his length, twisting while you tortured the tip with your mouth. To ensure you could really drive him crazy, your other hand joined in, playing at his balls and earning yet another sound of supplication from him.

"G-god, fuck, wait- Don't- Fuck, more, baby, please," he begged, hand shyly going to the back of your head to lightly encourage you to engulf him in your mouth.

"Want my mouth?", you asked as you let go of him, though still lightly licking at the sides of his dick, unwilling to stop teasing for as long as you could help it.

"C'mon, baby. I gave you my mouth, just- Oh, fuck, yes," he sighed when you decided to practically down the majority of his dick, enveloping as much as you could while using your hand to jerk off the small percentage of it that couldn't fit into your mouth.

You decided to show off as much as you could, taking him far enough to gag and pushing through it for as long as possible. The whines and whimpers coming from the man above you were more than enough reward for your efforts.

"F-fuck, you don't have to g-gag, baby, shit, don't force yourself," he panted out, barely able to get those words out without effort. This only encouraged you further, puffing out air from your nose in order to obtain as much oxygen as possible. You knew he wad almost at his end, so you used every asset available to you to break him. You took breaks to breathe every so often, but other than that, you were practically a machine attached to his cock.

"Okay, shit, fuck," he stammered out curses, "Gonna cum, pretty, w-where? In your mouth? Please? Fuck, let me cum in your mouth," he rambled while his hands made a mess of your hair as he attempted to keep it away from your face. His hips also began a slow and shy grind against your face — a barely visible movement but still completely present. It represented his lack of control as you blew his mind away, something which went straight to your core.

You nodded, humming against his dick knowing it'd cause a vibration that'd have him keening for his orgasm. And right you were, as his hands shamelessly pushed your head into his cock without a second thought, clearly too overcome with the pleasure of his orgasm to worry about gagging you with his cum. You, however, took it like a champ, reasoning that within some seconds you'd get to breathe properly again.

"G-god, baby, just like that ... C-cumming, shit" he cried, hips still pushing into your mouth. You wished you could see how his whiny demeanor manifested onto his face — those gorgeous features must've looked breathtaking when pleasure was all he felt.

Finally, you gasped out for air after having swallowed as much as you could manage, with some of it dripping past your lips. Jungkook let himself lay back on the bed to catch his breath while you remained on your knees catching yours.

This lasted very little when Jungkook suddenly decided to use his brute strength to drag you up on the bed, sitting your still wet middle on his flaccid self, pulling you in for yet another tongue-filled kiss. He hummed and moaned and whined as he licked every remnant of his essence from your mouth, causing a similar reaction from you.

After the fact, you shuffled yourself off him and made space on the bed to huddle up to his side, which he welcomed by cocooning you under his arm and pulling you flush against him. It was comfortable and silent for a few moments as you continued catching your breaths and letting the sweat on your bodies transpire — you also made a mental note to invite him to take a shower (with you, maybe).

"You moving in next door was not on my bingo card, but thank fucking god for that," he chuckled after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah? You didn't stalk your previous neighbors for a hookup?", you joked, receiving a devious squeeze of his strong arm in retaliation.

"Shut up," he tutted, "You like that I'm like a dog following you around."

Fair enough.

Silence then took over again, up until the two of you were rested enough and decided to get back to the task at hand — putting furniture together and unpacking anything that was left boxed (though you decided to leave any boxes that may contain panties away from his reach).

It was easy for you to fall into fun conversation with Jungkook, which only led to him staying over for far longer than anticipated, taking up your day and even ordering takeout for you to eat after getting all the grunt work out of the way. A shower was had, though you mutually agreed for no funny business (other than a good ten minutes of making out under the water, but that didn't count in your eyes). Since he lived right next door, he managed to extend his visit up until the last minute, entertaining you more than anything had in the past week of moving in.

One month into your new place and you decided the move was probably one of the best decisions you'd ever made. You'd come to find that Jungkook's old neighbor was not the only old lady living in the building, but that the neighborhood was mostly made up of old people (which, granted, Jungkook had warned you of in passing). That gave to a slightly boring home life, but you liked it better this way. Jungkook being your sole young neighbor was more than enough, specially with how often he went out of his way to seek you out.

After those first two hookups, no time for anything else was really had. This made you embarrassingly needy. The anticipation for finally having actual sex with Jungkook was too much too handle, specially when he'd still occasionally bump into you and catch you off guard with a kiss (which usually led to a make-out far too filthy for the public setting). You'd started your new job a week after moving and Jungkook was occupied by some reason or another, meaning that you'd only really see each other in passing. Although you'd text and keep up with each other, the frustration continued to build up.

The third time you were really able to get Jungkook alone was a little over a month after moving in.

You weren't particularly proud of how it is that you got him back in your apartment, but in your defense, you were ovulating that night and feeling particularly needy. Knowing that Jungkook was a bit of an unserious man, you knew that some pull from you and he'd put everything aside to come crawling. The thought itself made you feel powerful.

With a single 'accidental' text (maybe it was a lewd image, you'll never tell), you began to hear obnoxious knocking on your front door — within seconds of delivery, might you add. Excitedly, you walked over to the door, opening it to find a breathless Jungkook holding up his phone with your conversation pulled up, the incriminating picture taking up his screen.

"You're so mean to me," he managed to say before you pulled him in with a kiss, kicking the door behind you and turning around so he could press you up against the now closed door.

"Mean? I didn't do anything," you feigned between kisses, already lightheaded.

"I've been wanting to come over," he sighed into your lips, trailing down to your neck to catch his breath, "Just been so busy, fuck. If you wanted me so bad, you could've just come visit. I'd drop anything to have you," he continued, unable to unglue his lips from your skin. His hands mirrored his sentiment, grabbing at every curve with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before.

"I thought you were the one that was supposed to be chasing after me?", you joked with a breathless chuckle.

"Sometimes I need a little encouragement, baby. Need to know I'm not just bugging you," he replied as he undressed you almost as if it were second nature to him.

Walking you back into what he knew to be your room, he laid you down, now donning nothing but your panties. He soon after matched your nudity, stripping of his muscle tee and sweats, making his way on top of you as he'd done last time.

"Will you be mad if I fuck you?", he rasped, one hand at your boobs and another rubbing at your cunt through the thin layer covering it.

"You're an idiot," you deadpanned, "I'll be mad if you don't."

Needing no further confirmation, his hand slipped past your panties, rubbing circles on the puffiness of your clit while continuing to kiss you. This didn't last for long, simply being used as an aid to lubricate you with your own wetness as his fingers reached a little souther to smear your slick around while his thumb continued to play with the swollen bud.

Already unclothed, Jungkook took his hand away from you, resulting in a whine from your lips to his and moving his hand onto his own arousal. Jerking himself a few times, he stopped kissing you in favor of leaning back to look down at you while twisting his fist on his dick. After quickly fishing for a condom from his discarded pants, he went back to his previous position, rolling it in while you nagged at him to hurry.

Before actually entering you, of course he had to piss you off one last time by teasing your clit with the tip of his cock, groaning when he felt you flutter beneath him. One kick from you was enough for him to chuckle and finally enter you, groaning in unison with you at the feeling.

"Jesus Christ," you groaned when you felt him begin bottoming out, inch by inch filling you up enough to cause an unknown level of pleasurable pain. You hadn't stopped to think what that size would feel like inside you — or at least as much as he was able to get in.

Above you, Jungkook looked tortured, still and with a wincing look on his face as he waited for the green light to begin moving in and out of you. It took you a few moments longer, nimble fingers digging into the muscles of his arms before you finally nodded at him to move.

"Fuck," he groaned upon finally beginning to pick up a pace, biting his lip and his eyes almost rolled back.

"More," you urged, falling in love with the feeling of him immediately.

Your eyes were crossed, your fingers digging far too painfully into his skin, your legs wrapped around him like a vice, everything was far too intense far too quickly. He obeyed your plea immediately, making matters worse for you, having already been blowing your mind prior but now simply melting it.

"How do you feel this good?", he grunted. His arms reached your thighs, pulling you up a bit to hammer into you at a better angle, "Should've fucked you since that first day, shit. How'd I get such a pretty- fuck, such a pretty girl delivered right to my door?", he went on, sweat building on his skin.

The slapping of skin sped up with the proximity of Jungkook's orgasm, just as yours followed along. His hands were restless, attempting to hold you up while also thirsty to feel every possible inch of your body.

"Please tell me you're close, or else this is going to be really embarrassing for me," he muttered onto your skin.

With a chuckle, you confirmed your incoming high, whining when he finally let himself go and sped up in order to reach his own orgasm, now more relaxed knowing you were right with him.

He let out some uncharacteristically high moans as he filled up the condom, groaning and stilling once he was finally done. You joined him mere seconds later, arching your back and pressing your chest against his own as bliss encompassed you. Despite the sticky sweat covering you both, Jungkook let himself fall against you, pulling out and placing the condom aside momentarily so he could lay beside you while you caught your breath.

In the almost silent room, Jungkook nuzzled against you and kissed the sweaty skin he could reach, hands playing with your hair as he pressed you up against him.

"Would it be bad if I asked you out? Or should I have done that before seducing you in the laundry room?", he wondered out loud, leaving love bites on your neck.

You laughed at how random he could be, appreciating how he spoke his thoughts aloud most of the time, "You can ask me out, I won't bite. Unlike some people," you muttered the last part, giggling when he gave you a slightly harsher bite.

"You like it, don't lie," he muttered, suddenly getting up and dragging you with him despite your whine in negation, "C'mon, we're going to take a shower, have a quickie, and then I'm taking you out for some boba," he decided, using his inhuman strength to pull you up and drag you to your restroom.

"But-"

"C'mon, I've been wanting to ask you out since you moved in, I'm already late," he hushed you, carrying your basically limp body to the restroom with the promise of a fun night, something you did not have it in you (nor did you want to) deny.

to read short 1.6k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 433 (teaser); 1619 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Are you ever going back to your apartment?", you murmured, though it was likely muffled by the large body wrapped around you.

"What, already tired of me?", asked Jungkook as he continued to nose at your skin, a habit you realized he had soon after making things official. He had a sensitive nose, he'd said once, always enjoying the cosmetic products that gave you that floral scent he adored.

After a month of officially dating, Jungkook had become the human manifestation of a leech. It was rare for him to leave tour side whenever you so happened to have free time and would take advantage of the proximity between your apartments.

Being frank, this was something you loved about him. Still in the honeymoon phase, there was nothing better than getting to see your boyfriend at any given time, especially when he was the one seeking you out. He made you feel wanted and like you were a necessity for him, almost as if he had an addiction to you.

That being said, the man just would not leave your apartment.

Now, this wasn't too much of a bother thus far. You liked it, in fact (at least for the most part). He was quite clean while also being laid back, which was a great combination to have in a person who was practically taking on the role of your roommate.

He did, however, prove to become a distraction when it came to your day to day life. You allowed yourself to indulge in his company too much, leading to a huge drop in your productivity.

But what could you do? He was addictive.

"You love having me around, don't lie to yourself," he continued, "What, tired of waking up to head?", he joked, hands making their way under your shirt to cheekily trace your skin.

"Waking up to head?," you asked incredulously, "You woke me up by tickling me, you menace."

He chuckled, adjusting himself on the bed so he could climb on top of you, knees settled on each side of you and hands slowly bringing your top up.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I've been a bad guest. Let me make it up to you?", he grinned, snaking his way down your body until his head was leveled with your stomach, kissing the skin he'd freed just moments prior.

"Better make it worth my while or else I'll start charging you rent for every hour you spend in here."

"I'll move in. Don't threaten me with a good time," he joked, knowing most of his time was spent here with you regardless.

...

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#jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut

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parkerslatte · 5 months

Text

Fated Meetings

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: none.

Summary: Since the babysitter Y/N usually hires had to cancel last minute, Y/N is forced to take her four year old daughter to a ball in the Autumn Court. While Y/N gathers drinks for her and her daughter, she finds her missing and in the arms of a certain High Lord.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Y/N held onto her daughter, Sapphira’s hand tightly as she and the rest of the Inner Circle entered the ballroom. It was not ideal to bring Sapphira along to such a high profile event and it was not a good idea to expose her to such powerful fae at only the young age of five. But Y/N had no choice. The usual babysitter was away in another court and with no one she could leave Sapphira with at the last minute, Y/N was forced to bring her along.

Of course, Sapphira hadn’t minded in the slightest. When she was born Rhys had spoiled her with glittering gowns fit for a princess. No matter how hard Y/N insisted he did not need to give her small little family anything, Rhys insisted. With nowhere to wear her elaborate gowns, Sapphira only wore them around her own bedroom and whenever Y/N read her a princess story. The young girl always pictured herself within the story, dancing with a handsome prince. Once Y/N told her she could wear one of her gowns to an event, Y/N was sure she had never seen her daughter so excited.

Y/N glanced down at Sapphire and smiled at her daughter. The young girl’s gaze constantly bounced between everything that moved and glittered. But Y/N couldn’t blame her, she was doing the exact same thing. It was her first time in the Autumn Court and it was nothing if not beautiful. Even more beautiful than Velaris, Y/N thought.

As the Inner Circle branched off around the ballroom, Y/N looked to her daughter. “Do you want a drink?”

“I want to dance!” Sapphira exclaimed.

Y/N looked to the dancefloor and found it vacant, with the exception of a singular elderly couple. Y/N did not want to risk Sapphira being so exposed like that.

“What about later?” Y/N suggested. “They might play that music you love later.”

Sapphira thought about it for a second, her brain ticking. Y/N would have loved to know her thought process.

“Okay, mummy,” Sapphira said.

Y/N smiled at her daughter and squeezed her hand lightly. “Let’s get you a drink.”

Y/N led Sapphira to the drinks table and reached for two cups of water. If Y/N did not have Sapphira with her, she would have indulged in the champagne that was being offered. But tonight Y/N wanted to be on high alert in case anything happened to Sapphira.

Y/N pulled Sapphira to the side of the room and leaned against the wall while she sat down on the floor. People around her glanced back at the two, some with disgust and Y/N glared at them.

“Y/N?” A voice startled Y/N as she lightly jumped back.

Y/N turned to the source of the voice and she smiled. “Lucien!”

Y/N wrapped her arms around the youngest Vanserra and greeted him warmly. She had always liked talking to Lucien and she always enjoyed how he was around Sapphira. Y/N knew of the hard time he had settling into the Night Court so she always made sure to make him feel welcome.

“I have not seen you in forever!” Y/N exclaimed, stepping back from Lucien. “Is the Day Court treating you well?”

Lucien smiled. “As well as ever. I’m currently bouncing between there and here. Ever since Eris became High Lord, he made one of his priorities to repair our relationship.”

“And how is that working out?” Y/N questioned.

Lucien sighed, though it was content. “Surprisingly well, considering everything.”

“It’s good he is working on fixing everything between you,” Y/N said.

“After he explained everything, I feel as if I understood him better,” Lucien said. “I could see hints of the brother who used to play with me to distract me from Beron when I was a child.”

Y/N smiled. “I think you would have been a difficult child.”

Lucien gasped. “I was not. I believe I was quite delightful, perhaps even more delightful than your own child.”

“You could never be more delightful than Sapphira,” Y/N said, smiling. “She is the sweetest child in the whole world.”

“I cannot argue with that,” Lucien said, a glint in his eye. “How is she? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean? She’s right here–”

The space where Sapphira was sitting on the floor was now vacant. All that was left was the cup of water that was still full. Y/N’s heart began to beat faster as panic rose within her.

“Sapphira!” Y/N exclaimed, scanning the room for any sign of her daughter.

“I can go and see if she has left the ballroom,” Lucien said, suddenly serious. “Do you want me to inform Azriel? He could probably find her quickly.”

“No, do not inform anyone from the Inner Circle. If they find out she is missing, it will turn into a bloodbath here and I don’t want Sapphira seeing that,” Y/N said.

Lucien nodded before taking off. Y/N did the same and began the search for her daughter.

***

It had been roughly five minutes or Y/N thought before a young maid tapped her on the shoulder.

“Yes,” Y/N said, quite sharply.

The maid flinched slightly but did not back away. “I believe I have just passed your daughter in the gardens, just through those doors there. She looked an awful lot like you.”

Y/N looked at the large glass doors leading to the beautiful gardens outside. Of course her daughter would sneak away to one of the most beautiful places in the court. Y/N said a quick thank you to the maid before she quickly left in the direction of the doors.

As she slipped out, the sound of the ballroom faded away and was replaced by the slight breeze and distant chatter. One of the voices extremely familiar. Y/N frowned and hurried in the direction of the noise. As soon as Sapphira was safely back in her arms, she was leaving the court immediately.

“See those hills over there?” The unfamiliar voice asked softly.

“Yes,” Sapphira answered.

“Those hills are special because they are home to the rarest flowers in the whole of Prythian,” the voice said. A masculine voice.

Y/N only walked faster.

“See at a certain time every night, they glow, not for long but long enough to light up the entire hill.”

Sapphira gasped. “I want to go there!”

Y/N closed in on the pair. The figure was holding her daughter in his arms and Y/N wanted nothing more than to put an arrow through his head. She was not very good at wielding weapons, preferring to do the healing of a wound rather than inflict it, but if he did not put her daughter down, she would suddenly become the best archer in the whole of Prythian.

The man chuckled. “You will need to ask your mother. Speaking of which, you should go back inside–”

“That is right, Sapphira. Get away from him,” Y/N spoke up.

As soon as Y/N spoke, the man turned around and Y/N gasped. The man holding her daughter was none other than the High Lord himself. Eris Vanserra.

“High Lord,” Y/N said, dipping her head. “I didn’t know–”

“Y/N, please, there is no need for formalities,” Eris said and set Sapphira down on the floor.

“How do you know my name?” Y/N questioned.

Eris smiled softly and Y/N swore it was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. “Well my little brother speaks of you a lot and this one,” Eris nodded his head to Sapphira who was brushing down her gown, “speaks a lot about you.”

“Mummy, can I stay outside with Eris, please? He is really nice!” Sapphira said, running up to Y/N and tugged on the bottom of her dress.

“I don’t know,” Y/N said, briefly glancing at Eris. “I’m sure he is busy.”

“In fact I am quite free,” Eris said. “I dread to go back indoors.”

Y/N stepped closer to Eris. She had never spoken to him before. Though the Inner Circle have spoken about him a lot, none of the comments were too positive. Though the demeanour of the male standing before her contrasted the image she had conjured up in her head.

“Isn’t this whole ordeal for you?” Y/N questioned. “Isn’t that the whole reason me and my daughter were dragged here?”

“Dragged?” Eris questioned. “I believe your daughter was more than ecstatic to come tonight.”

Y/N looked down at her daughter. “How much did you tell him? You have only been gone ten minutes.”

“She did not stop talking,” Eris said. “Barely let me get a word in.”

“She is normally shy around new people,” Y/N said as her daughter stepped around her legs and closer to Eris.

“I’m the eldest of seven children,” Eris said, “I’m good with kids.”

“Please can we stay out here a little longer, mummy? I like it here!” Sapphira said, pulling Y/N closer to Eris.

Despite the darkness, Y/N couldn’t help but admire Eris’s beauty as she inched closer to him. His copper hair was immaculately styled on the top of his head, a single strand falling in his eyes that she itched to push back.

“I suppose we can stay here a little longer,” Y/N muttered.

Sapphira expressed her delight while Eris only smirked. “Perfect. I can show the two of you around the gardens.”

“In the dark?” Y/N challenged.

“You seemed to admire something else in the darkness,” Eris said, his voice loud enough for only Y/N to hear. “Though I can’t guarantee that the gardens are as beautiful as your view currently.”

Y/N flushed and stepped away from Eris. “Well, show the way, High Lord.”

Eris smiled and held out his arm for Y/N to take. “It would be impolite of me to not offer you my arm.”

Y/N glared at him before wrapping her arm around his. Sapphira walked just ahead of them, eager to see the rest of the gardens.

***

Y/N watched Sapphira run around between all of the hedges fondly, she had never seen her daughter look so happy. Currently, her and Eris were situated on a bench, he lounged upon in, completely relaxed. His jacket was unbuttoned and the crown that was situated on the top of his head was in Sapphira’s hands.

“We should get back inside soon,” Y/N said, turning to face Eris.

“You said that ten minutes ago,” Eris teased, crossing one of his legs over the other.

Y/N flushed once more and turned to face her daughter, who stopped to admire a large rose bush. “I know, but she is so happy out here. She has always been a happy child, but out here…it's different. Our small apartment doesn’t have a garden so Sapphira doesn’t really have anywhere to play.”

Eris studied her for a moment. “What do you do for a living, Y/N? I don’t believe Lucien has ever brought it up.”

“I’m a healer,” Y/N replied. “I help out the Inner Circle quite a lot.”

“You speak about it like you are not part of it,” Eris remarked.

“I’m not,” Y/N replied. “I just attend any matters in other courts in case a healer is needed urgently. I’m not particularly close with anyone except Azriel, he is the one who introduced me to Rhys and Feyre.”

Eris let his gaze fall to Sapphira. “And Sapphira? I assume she is not a healer.”

Y/N laughed. “No, and she would make an awful healer when she grows up, and she has never taken an interest in it. I didn’t have a choice but to bring her tonight, my usual babysitter is in the Winter Court visiting family.”

Eris smiled and Y/N was sure that the image of it would be burned into her memory. “I assume her father is busy.”

The smile from Y/N’s face faltered. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen him since the moment I knew I was pregnant with Sapphira.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Eris apologised. “I didn’t know.”

Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile. “Not many people do. We were together for three years and when he noticed my shift in scent, he was gone before I even realised what was happening. Only Azriel knows the real truth, and now you do too.”

“Well I say that he missed out,” Eris said, leaning closer to Y/N, “on an amazing daughter and her gorgeous mother.”

Y/N didn’t look away from him, in fact her gaze fell to his lips. But just as she caught herself she looked back to his eyes, only to find a hint of amusement in them. “Well, if he stuck around then I wouldn’t be talking to a rather handsome High Lord, would I?”

This time, Y/N was the one to surprise Eris. He cleared his throat and looked away. “We should go back inside.”

“Look who’s eager to get away now?” Y/N teased.

Eris tilted his head as he leaned closer. “Sweetheart, I would need to be dragged kicking and screaming to be pulled away from you. But this whole event is still about me and there are most likely many guests wondering where I have been.”

“I–”

“Mummy!” Sapphira exclaimed. “Can we go and dance now? You said I could dance later.”

Sapphira ran to where Y/N and Eris were sitting, still clutching Eris’s crown. Y/N stood from the bench, her arm brushing Eris as she did so, she hadn’t realised how close the two had gotten during their conversation.

“Of course, sweetie,” Y/N said and held out her hand.

“Is Eris coming?” Sapphira asked, looking up at Eris with wide eyes.

Eris smiled and stood to his feet. “Of course.”

Sapphira smiled wide and gripped onto Y/N's hand and then Eris’s and began to drag them with all of her strength back to the ballroom.

Y/N leaned closer to Eris. “You don’t need to come with us, if you prefer to be out here, you can say no to her.”

“Like I said, there are most likely plenty of people who are wondering where I went,” Eris replied. “And wherever you are going, I will follow.”

Y/N looked away from Eris just as Sapphira dragged them through the doors to the ballroom. There were still plenty of people inside and there were plenty of people on the dance floor.

“This is where I must leave you both,” Eris said. “It seems that my brother is trying to get my attention.”

Sapphira looked up at Eris. “Please stay.”

“Sapphira, Eris is busy and needs to get back to his duties,” Y/N said.

Eris looked at the young girl and bent down to meet her height. “How about this? Once I finish my duties for the evening, I will come and dance with you and your mother?”

“Eris you really don’t–”

“Yes please!” Sapphira exclaimed.

Eris smiled and Y/N swore that she would melt. “Perfect.”

Sapphira held out Eris’s crown to him. “This is yours.”

Eris gently took the crown from her hands. “This crown always looked silly on me.” He placed the crown on top of Sapphira’s head. It was too big for her but her hairstyle kept it in place. “Why don’t you hold onto it for me? Remember this is a very important job.”

Sapphira’s eyes lit up. “I will protect it!”

Eris smiled before standing up. “I will see you later, Y/N.”

Y/N could feel many eyes on her as Eris spoke to her but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. “I will see you later, Eris.”

After bidding goodbye, Y/N thought Eris would simply leave to attend to his duties. However before he left he gently took Y/N’s hand in his, his skin soft, and brought her hand up to his lips, pressing his lips against her knuckles for a lingering moment. Her daughter giggled happily at the gesture while Y/N only held onto Eris’s hand tighter, something within her wanted him to stay.

When he released her hand, Eris’s gaze lingered upon Y/N for a moment longer before he turned and walked away, creating a path through the many dancers on the ballroom floor. Y/N watched where he left, a lovestruck expression on her face which was only interrupted by Sapphire gripping onto her hand.

“Are you going to marry him?” Sapphira asked.

“What!” Y/N exclaimed, looking down at her daughter. “Of course I’m not.”

Sapphira giggled happily and pulled Y/N’s hand. “I want to dance!”

With one last glance in the direction Eris disappeared, Y/N nodded. “Let’s go then.”

***

“This better be important,” Eris said as he neared closer to Lucien.

“I see you were the one who found Sapphira,” Lucien said. “Y/N was worried sick about her.”

“I was in the gardens,” Eris said. “If anything she found me. Now, what was so important you needed to drag me away from a beautiful woman. Isn’t your mate around here? Shouldn’t you be entertaining her instead of pestering me.”

“Elain couldn’t make it tonight,” Lucien said. “And do my ears deceive me or did you say that Y/N was beautiful?”

“You certainly didn’t mention that in your stories about her,” Eris said. “And nor did you mention that Sapphira’s father isn’t in the picture.”

“Well I have a mate,” Lucien said. “My loyalty resides with Elain, I cannot go around calling other females beautiful now, can I? And you brought up Sapphira’s father to her? I knew you hadn't entertained the company of many females in the past few years, Eris, but who knew you were incapable to woo one without bringing up past failed relationships.”

“Oh, shut it,” Eris sneered at his brother. Lucien only laughed. “Is this the only reason why you called me over here?”

Lucien took a sip of his wine. “Yes. After all, I have been mentioning her quite a lot around you as of late. I thought you might need a push to talk to her and I gave you one when I secretly told Sapphira to go into the gardens earlier to find you.”

Eris glared at his brother. “You sent Sapphira out to me?”

“I did. I saw the look in your eyes the moment Y/N entered the ballroom and how quickly you left,” Lucien said. “That look in your eyes, I know you felt it. That snap.”

Eris sighed. “Can we not talk about this now?”

“We will talk about it now or you will avoid it,” Lucien said. “I knew you would like her but I never thought she was your mate, Eris.”

“Well it clearly hasn’t snapped for her, so please don’t bring it up to her until I am ready to tell her,” Eris pleaded with his younger brother.

“Tell her, Eris,” Lucien said. “I know Y/N and I know that she deserves love, a real home. And I know that you crave the same. Tell her, from what I can see, she likes you too.”

Eris looked out at the ballroom and spotted Y/N and Sapphira instantly. Y/N looked so carefree dancing with Sapphira and Eris could only smile at the sight. That golden thread connecting him to Y/N tugged him toward her. He took the first few steps on his own. Everyone else in the ballroom seemed to disappear as Eris took a few more steps. As he continued to walk towards her, Y/N looked up at him.

Eris felt like his heart stopped beating. The pull toward her became stronger and stronger. She was beautiful. The most beautiful female he had ever seen. The moment he had seen her walk into the ballroom he thought that. And the moment he felt the bond, he was overcome with emotion. He had left the ballroom to the safety of the gardens to process everything. Until a young girl approached him and he instantly knew who the child belonged to, he could see it in her features, she looked exactly like her mother. And she was the one to bring his mate into his life the moment she disappeared from the ballroom.

“Eris?” Y/N’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

He hadn’t noticed but he was now standing back with Y/N and Sapphira.

“Yes?” Eris said.

“Have you finished with your duties for the night?” Y/N asked.

Eris nodded. “I have. Now I am yours.”

Y/N smiled and Eris. “Just for tonight, of course.”

The wide smile on Eris’s face faltered. “Yes, just for tonight.”

“Eris, can you dance with me?” Sapphira asked, gripping onto the edge of Eris’s jacket.

Eris looked at the young girl and his smile returned. She still wore his crown and it now sat crooked on top of her head. “Of course. Will you join us, Y/N?”

Y/N shook her head. “All of this dancing has worn me out. I will get a drink for myself. I trust you to look after her.”

Eris grasped her hand in his. Sparks flew at their connection. “I will join you after we dance.”

Y/N chuckled. “Good luck trying to get her off of the dance floor.”

Eris smiled and brought his other hand up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. He allowed his hand to linger on her cheek, caressing her face gently. “I will try my best to get her back to you in a timely manner.”

Y/N smiled and Eris swore she leaned into his touch. “Again, she will dance until she falls asleep,” Y/N replied.

“Then I’m afraid we will be here all night because I, too, love dancing,” Eris said.

“You will need to show me some of your dance moves sometime,” Y/N said, her hand caressing his wrist.

Eris smirked and leaned forward, his breath brushed her face. “I will happily show you anytime.”

“You better,” Y/N said.

“Eris, can we dance now?” Sapphira asked.

“Of course, give me just a second,” Eris replied. He turned back to Y/N. “I will see you later, Y/N.”

Before she had the chance to respond Eris pressed a kiss to her cheek, close to the corner of her mouth. Y/N didn’t respond as Eris stepped away, sweeping Sapphira in a dance in the centre of the ballroom.

***

Y/N remained still as she watched Eris and Sapphira dance, many moved out of the way to not disturb the High Lord. Though many gave the High Lord questioning looks as he danced with an unfamiliar girl. Y/N’s heart was racing.

“Y/N?” Azriel asked, approaching her. “Are you okay?”

“Eris…” Y/N began, but words failed her.

Azriel’s gaze followed Y/N’s and he went rigid. “Why is he with Sapphira?”

“He–” Y/N cut herself off as she finally tore her gaze away from Eris and Sapphira to look at her friend. “Azriel. Eris is my mate.”

Azriel’s head snapped to Y/N’s. “Your mate? That is not possible.”

“It is,” Y/N said. “I feel it. I feel him.” Y/N placed her hand over her stomach, feeling where the tug was coming from, connecting her to Eris.

“Does he know?” Azriel asked, placing a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Y/N said. “He hasn’t mentioned it.”

Y/N returned her gaze to Eris and Sapphira and her heart melted at the sight. Sapphira stood on Eris’s feet as he walked her through a dance, a carefree smile on his face. “He is so good with her.”

Though Azriel was still tense, his gaze softened as he looked at the joy on the young girl’s face as she danced with Eris.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Azriel asked once more.

“I think so,” Y/N admitted. “I am just shocked. I never thought I would have a mate.”

“I’m shocked too,” Azriel muttered. “Considering it’s Eris of all people.”

Y/N gently hit his shoulder. “He is a good male.”

“And you have figured that out from one conversation?” Azriel questioned.

Y/N shook her head. “I know because of how he treats Sapphira.” Y/N nods her head to the two still dancing, Sapphira with a wide smile on her face. “Be honest and say you have never seen her that comfortable around a stranger before.”

Azriel looks at Sapphira and Eris. “I haven’t.”

Y/N smiles. “And that is how I know that he is a good male. Because my daughter is an excellent judge of character.”

Azriel sighs. “Just be careful.”

“There is nothing to be careful of,” Y/N said. “But to put your mind at ease, I will be careful.”

Before Azriel has the chance to respond, Eris interrupts the conversation, carrying Sapphira in his arms, her eyes slowly closing. “I believe your daughter is ready for bed.”

“I’m not…” Sapphira mutters, as her eyes droop once more, her head resting on Eris’s shoulder.

“I can take her back home,” Azriel offers.

“Or I could have a room set up here?” Eris suggests, looking at Y/N. “It saves you returning home too.”

There is something in Eris’s eye that Y/N could only describe as pleading. He wanted her to stay at the Autumn Court for the night. Y/N couldn’t think of any reason why she wouldn’t want to. “Only if it’s not too much hassle.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Eris answers. “I can take you both to a guest room. The finest I have to offer.”

Y/N smiled. “Honest anything will do, Eris. I’m sure that you have more important guests who will need that room more than us.”

“My two most important guests are right here,” Eris said. “Now, shall we get going?”

Y/N looked at Azriel, who she had only just realised was still standing there. “Tell Rhys where I am?”

Azriel looked at Eris, his gaze hard. Eris only stared back at the shadowsinger, nothing in his eyes to suggest any ill intent. Azriel relaxed. “I will see you when you return, Y/N.”

The shadowsinger left, not before giving a warning look to Eris. The High Lord cleared his throat. “Well, shall we get going now?”

Y/N nodded. “Lead the way.”

As Eris tried to hand Sapphira over to Y/N, the young girl clung to his jacket, seemingly not wanting to leave Eris. Eris sent Y/N a panicked look. Y/N smiled at him. “It’s okay. When she is sleepy she always clings onto people she trusts.”

The touched expression on Eris’s face was enough for Y/N to feel a pull on the bond between them. The quicker she had Sapphira asleep in a bed, the quicker she could tell Eris about the bond.

Eris led her down a variety of hallways and Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from the beauty of it all. “If Sapphira were awake she wouldn’t want to ever leave.”

The smile on Eris’s face was small but Y/N didn’t miss it. “You are free to visit anytime.”

Finally the two stopped outside of two large doors, Eris pushed open the door with one arm and gestured for Y/N to enter. The room was large with a king size bed in the centre, draped by a crimson canopy. Solid gold was shaped into patterns on the bed frame. Y/N was sure that it cost more than she made in a year. There was a seating area beside a fireplace, pillows and blankets rested upon the sofa and made Y/N want to snuggle up there with a good book in her hands.

But the most stunning feature of the whole room was the windows. They were floor to ceiling leading out onto a secluded balcony allowing for a view of the Autumn Court. Y/N couldn’t help herself but gasp.

“You cannot seriously be allowing me to stay here?” Y/N asked.

“I am,” Eris said, walking over to the bed. “Only the finest room for my most important guests. I have some spare clothing for Sapphira if you wish to change her. I am sure my mother kept clothing from when myself and my brothers were children.”

“No, it’s okay,” Y/N answered. “If you wake her now, I will never get her back to sleep.”

Y/N joined Eris at the bed and watched as he placed her gently down upon the soft covers. The care in his movements was unlike anything Y/N had seen before. No one except for her had held her daughter with such care before. Eris gently tucked her under the covers and pulled the blankets up as she snuggled into them. Y/N leant against the bedpost.

“What?” Eris asked as he noticed her staring. “Like I said, I’m good with children.”

Y/N shook her head. “It’s not that.”

Eris smiled and approached her. “What is it then?”

“It’s just…I have never seen someone care so much for her before. I know the Inner Circle loves her but they have never held her or gone so much out of their way to make her smile like you have tonight,” Y/N said. “Thank you, Eris.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Eris said. “Don’t ever thank me for something as simple as making your daughter smile.”

“She just never warms up to new people as quickly as she did to you,” Y/N said. “She really likes you, Eris.”

Eris looked at his feet for a brief moment before gesturing to the sofa by the fireplace. “Shall we sit?”

“Don’t you need to return to the ballroom?” Y/N questions.

“I have disappeared from these events before,” Eris explains. “No one will miss me. If they do, Lucien will deal with them.”

Y/N took a seat on the sofa and Eris sat next to her, his thigh brushing against hers. The pull within Y/N made her shuffle closer, seeking as much contact as possible. She craved it.

“Eris, there is something I need to tell you,” Y/N said, suddenly serious. “It might be a lot to take in and I really don’t want you to run from the room screaming in fear.”

Eris chuckled. “Whatever you are about to tell me probably is not going to match the news I need to tell you.”

Y/N let out a breathy laugh. “Earlier, when you kissed my cheek, something snapped into place. A mating bond. You are my mate, Eris.”

For a brief moment, Eris stilled and Y/N was afraid that he would end up running from the room. But her fears were not brought to life as Eris began to laugh quietly. Y/N frowned. “What is so funny?”

A warmth enveloped Y/N’s hand. She didn’t need to look down to know that it was Eris’s own hands.

“The news I wished to share with you is the same as yours,” Eris said with a smile. “I felt it too. The moment you walked into that ballroom. That snap I never thought I would feel.”

“And are you…happy about it?” Y/N asked, holding her breath.

Eris frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be happy? Y/N, I never thought I would be blessed with a mate, let alone someone as beautiful and incredible as you. I never thought I deserved it.” Eris caressed her cheek as he leaned closer to Y/N. “But now that I see you Y/N, you are everything I have ever wanted. Deep down I always craved a mate, I always craved to be loved by someone unconditionally and the mother has blessed me with you. I must be the luckiest male in the entire world.”

Y/N’s eyes watered. “Oh, Eris. You really mean all of those things?”

“Of course I do,” Eris said. “I have only known you a short time, Y/N. But everything about you I admire. And you are someone I could easily fall in love with.”

Y/N placed her hands on Eris’s chest, her fingers gripping onto the lapels of his jacket. “Eris, you must realise that Sapphira will always be part of my life and she is the most important thing to me. You say you want me, but you have to want her too.”

Eris rested his forehead against Y/N’s. “Y/N, I already know. And I already adore Sapphira, she reminds me a lot of Lucien when he was younger, before my father–” Eris cut himself off. “What I am saying is that I have already accepted her. If you choose me too, I will continue to provide for her. Whatever she wishes I will try my damn hardest to make that wish come true.”

Y/N smiled. “Don’t spoil her too much.”

“So do you accept me as your mate?” Eris asked. “Obviously we don’t need to accept the bond until you are ready. Of course not until we tell Sapphira everything, because if she doesn’t accept it then I will gladly step back and–”

“Eris,” Y/N said, cutting him off. “I accept you as my mate. I may have only known you a short time but from how you are with Sapphira tells me all I need to know about you. You are a good male.”

Eris looked into Y/N’s eyes and Y/N already had a new favourite colour. Everything about this felt right to her. It was as if everything around her had fallen into place and this was what she was destined for. A life with Eris, raising her daughter together.

“May I kiss you?” Eris asked, hesitation evident in his voice.

“Yes, you may,” Y/N replied.

Without any hesitation, Eris pressed his lips against Y/N’s and she could feel the bond tighten between them, pulling them into one another. Eris’s arms wrapped around her body as Y/N caressed his face, her hands brushing over his stubble before moving up to tangle in this hair. The kiss was nothing but perfect.

The only thing that interrupted Y/N and Eris was a small mumble from Sapphira. Y/N pulled away and shot to her feet to check on her daughter only to find her still fast asleep, mumbling incoherently. Y/N sighed and sat back down on the sofa, she leaned into Eris.

“Do you think I could borrow some of your clothes?” Y/N asked. “I don’t think this dress will be very comfortable to sleep in.”

Eris’s eyes scanned over her body. “I do have some clothes you can borrow, though it will be unfortunate not to see you in this dress any longer.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned closer to him, her lips brushing over his. “If you play your cards right, I may just wear this dress again. Just for you.”

Eris smirked. “Is that a promise?”

“It will be after you get me some clothes,” Y/N answered.

Eris got to his feet and left the room swiftly and Y/N only giggled lightly at his hasty departure. He was back only moments later with a pile of clothes in his arms.

“You were quick,” Y/N commented, standing to her feet.

“My room is only across the hall,” Eris answered, a faint blush coating his cheeks.

Y/N took the clothes from his arms. “Thank you, Eris.”

Eris nodded and took a step back. “I should get back to the ballroom to tell everyone the event is over.”

“Yes you should,” Y/N said.

“I should be going now,” Eris said, still remaining where he is standing.

Y/N is the first to give in. She dumped the clothes on the chair and pulled Eris into her, planting her lips on his. It was an addicting feeling already. Eris held onto the back of her neck deepening the kiss, bending over Y/N causing her to tilt her head back. If Eris wasn’t holding her up, Y/N was sure she would collapse from the sheer amount of emotions coursing through her veins. Some were her own and some were Eris’s, that golden thread connecting them doing its best to convey what the other thought of one another.

Y/N gripped onto Eris tightly not wanting to ever let go. On one hand she was grateful that Sapphira had been allowed to come along with her, she had not seen her daughter as smiley as she was tonight in a while. But on the other hand Y/N wished that her usual babysitter was available so she could pull Eris down onto the bed and continue what they were doing all night, preferably with no clothes obstructing their bodies.

Y/N was the first to pull away, panting for air. “We should stop. I don’t want to get carried away.”

Eris brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Me neither.”

Y/N kissed him again.

However this time the kiss did not last long at all as a quiet young voice cut through the air.

“Are you going to get married?” Sapphira’s voice was like a bucket of ice cold water poured over both Y/N and Eris, causing them to jump apart.

Y/N turned to face her daughter. “No, we aren’t Sapphira. Eris and I…we were just helping each other with our hair.”

Sapphira huffed. “Can you get married? I like Eris.”

Eris looked down at the floor, his face bright red. Y/N chuckled lightly. “Okay, Sapphira, I think you should get back to sleep. It is late and you need to be rested for tomorrow.”

“Will Eris be here tomorrow?” Sapphira asked, pointing at Eris.

Y/N perched on the edge of the bed next to her daughter. “Of course he will.” Y/N turned to face him. “He’s not going anywhere.”

Eris smiled. “I will be here bright and early tomorrow, Sapphira.”

Sapphira smiled sleepily and yawned. Y/N brushed her daughter's hair from her face and watched as she fell back into a peaceful sleep. Once she was asleep, Y/N laughed and approached Eris.

“Well you have Sapphira’s blessing,” Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Eris pulled her closer by her hips and rested his arms lazily around her. “And I’m glad to have it.”

Y/N hugged Eris. “Goodnight, Eris. I will see you tomorrow.”

Eris hugged her back. “Bright and early.”

Y/N smiled and pecked his lips quickly. “My mate.”

Eris smiled. “My mate.”

Reluctantly she let go of Eris and allowed him to leave the room. Before the door closed he turned around and blew her a kiss. Y/N smiled at the lopsided grin on his face before the door closed completely.

Y/N changed into the clothes Eris had given her. They smelt of him and Y/N wrapped her arms around herself. She climbed into the soft bed next to her daughter and swiftly fell asleep, dreaming about her future life with Sapphira and Eris.

#eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra fluff #high lord eris #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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mostly-imagines · 3 months

Note

Well, I guess that I'm going to be that person so, Jay and threesomes — delicious idea actually;

But I don't think that he would dive into the idea of sharing you with other people, especially if you two are a thing (or not, it depends on how he feels about you), like, I've seen in another ask that I unfortunately can't remember the name but it said that if you dated Roy Harper (aka Arsenal) he would share you with Jay, but if it was the opposite, our pretty vigilante wouldn't allow it.

It's clear that it's not that he doesn't trust you, more like... Uhhh? Don't trust others or the insecurity of himself? You get the idea.

Would like to elaborate more, luv?

implied NSFW content below

okay i think there’s 2 ways this could go

1 ) you know how there's a bunch of fics of jason & roy conspiring to have a threesome w reader? every single time i read one (as hot as i do find it) i think about the alternate way that conversation could go

so like you're jason's gf & roy thinks you're hot and decides to get bold bc surely jason will agree?? what’s a girl between friends, right?

he's hung out w you guys/at your apartment lots of times so he's seen you two being touchy with each other plenty.

roy shows up one night to hang and you're wearing one of jay's shirts and as far as roy can tell, no pants because his shirt is so goddamn big on you, there's no point.

"stop looking at her like that," jason's gruff voice cuts through roy's thoughts as they sit on the couch, watching you move about the kitchen.

roy looks over at jason, who doesn't return the eye contact. "i'm not looking at her like anything." he returns his gaze to you, watching your hips. “she’s pretty.”

"i know.” jason says shortly.

jason, knowing roy pretty fucking well at this point, can tell exactly where he’s going with this. he’s been extra flirty with you lately, like he’s trying to butter you up. even going as far as putting a hand on your back or against one of your thighs.

but he’s being more lenient with roy than he would be with someone else thinking about you like that. jason can live with the flirting, that’s just how roy is. the touching gets to him a little though. and the staring might kill him. might kill either one of them, actually.

roy leans back on the couch, looking back to jason, "do you remember that girl in newhaven that wanted to go home with us?"

jason turns his head to look at him, gaze narrowing in dangerously on becoming a glare.

roy shrugs, "i'm just saying. at least you like this girl. makes things easier, doesn't it? plus she's sweet, isn't she?"

jason makes a low hum of a noise that's almost a grunt. "careful."

roy sits up again, fully turning to face him, "jay, come on, i'm just thinking—"

“i know what you're thinking. drop it.”

it takes a special kind of stupid person to argue with jason when he gets serious and resolute like this and roy is not that person so he shuts up and cools it on the flirting. the sudden change in his behavior is harsh enough that you have to ask jason about it later, who, depending on how much he's still simmering about it later, may or may not tell you about what happened there.

or 2 ) roy has the ability to read a fucking room and decides its better for him to keep this idea to himself

in this scenario i see it more as something that roy cannot stop thinking about and he’s doing absolutely everything in his power to prevent himself from getting his neck snapped. he and jason are really good friends but roy’s seen first hand how jason does not play about you so he’s not going to be running any risks.

so lately he won’t look at you unless you speak to him, and then it’s only fleeting, and he’s a lot more careful about when he enters a room he knows you’re both in. he gets real stiff whenever you enter a room and has a nervousness about him that’s uncharacteristic.

but jason’s not stupid and neither are you, so you’ve both noticed a shift in the air to say the least. you’ve been unable to attribute a cause to the newfound shift in energy, though your boyfriend hasn’t had the same trouble identifying the issue.

so jason’s a little annoyed, yeah. but he can’t be that pissed because he gets it. he knows you’re an absolute killer, he assumes every guy that sees you wants you. and that’s fine, whatever. the problem starts up when it’s his best friend who pretty regularly sees you in less-than-modest clothing. jason can’t help that he gets a little possessive then.

jason doesn't necessarily know that the thing taking up roy's mind is a threesome and not just the two of you, but it honestly wouldn't make a difference anyways. it doesn't really have anything to do with whether or not he thinks roy has romantic or just sexual feelings for you, though he's pretty certain they are just sexual.

there's something in the back of his head that tells him that no one has any business seeing you the way he gets to. sex is something so personal for him, for both of you, and he honestly can't even consider the idea of anyone being involved in that other than you and him.

you’ve left the room for a minute one night and there’s an unusual tension that lingers in the air between them. both jason and roy have clocked the shift in demeanor on the others part by now and the resulting silence is devastating. for roy, that is. jason just sits with it.

“you’re not going to do anything,” jason speaks up, not taking his eyes off the drink in his hand. “right?”

the question takes roy off guard and immediately has his heart jumping in his chest. it’s instinct to lie and say ‘no, i don’t want to fuck your girlfriend, what are you talking about?’ but he decides better against it.

he shakes his head, gaze on the rug, “no, no. of course not.”

“good,” jason nods solemnly before adding, “i’d break your nose.”

“i know," roy says simply.

you'd spent longer in the other room than you needed to, hoping something would be said and resolved about whatever was going on with them. clearly at least the former had gone down because when you come back in, there's a slightly different air to the room than the one you had left. more nervous on roy's part, more sure on jason's.

you give jason a questioning look when you sit back down and he just shakes his head cooly and wraps an arm around your shoulder. you trust him well enough to believe that whatever was said was what needed to be said and it's taken care of now.

and it was—the rest of the night was easier as it went on and after a couple of somewhat strange silent exchanges between the two men, roy even started looking at you again. and maybe jason gave you a few kisses with a bit more intensity and held you a little closer than he might have otherwise, but that’s nobody else’s business but his.

#jason todd thoughts™#jason todd loves his gf #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd/you #jason todd imagine #jason todd thoughts #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #roy harper x reader

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denwritesandcries · 21 days

Text

Later we'll fall because of this – H.C

Pairing: loser!hazel x fem!reader

Summary: Maybe you should have considered what it actually meant to get in a relationship with Hazel, especially a fake one, before you said yes, because now you're falling deep and deep in it and you don't know what to do.

Word count: 5,5k.

Content: cursing, fake dating, kisses, pining, slightly angst, miscommunication, unhealthy situationships, mentions of blood, hazel sends mixed signs (unknowingly), reader is a LOSER, insecure!hazel, flirting, dumb teenagers.

Note: This shouldn't have taken so long since I had all the story planned already, but august was just… crazy, jesus. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy and thanks for being so patient and supportive with this small series, it really means the world to me.

English is not my first language.

You barely register what happens through the rest of the night, returning home with your head completely flustreaded and your heart pounding in your throat, a goldfish in a fragile plastic bag on your shaking hands and a single text from Isabel when you finally fall into bed.

[josie told me what happened

you're welcome btw]

Well, fuck.

Maybe you should have considered what it actually meant to get in a relationship with Hazel, especially a fake one, before you said yes, because now you’re standing outside the school, nervously clutching the straps of your backpack and not having the courage to go in and face what’s to come.

Still, you do it, because Hazel asked to meet you at your locker before classes started and ignoring her now would just be rude – as if you could ignore her in the first place – so you put your head up and walk down the halls feeling like everyone is staring at you.

And she’s waiting just like she said she would, swaying from foot to foot and seemingly searching for something in the crowd of students. The ear-to-ear grin Hazel gives you when she sees you coming makes your anxiety ease a little.

You greet her a little hesitantly, it’s not like you’ve spoken much since the fair, so you’re not sure how to avoid making things awkward.

Apparently, neither does she, “Hi!” Hazel answers, a little too loudly, before cringing and looking around, as if at any second someone might come along and expose the lie you’re about to tell. Clearing her throat, she starts again, “So, I just wanted to know if it’s okay for me to start walking you between periods now, or— or maybe give you a ride after school, I mean, I know that you usually take the bus but,” Hazel begins to ramble, “I thought that would be more convincing, since, you know, that’s what couples do and—”

“Haze, it's okay,” you interrupt, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder instinctively, brushing some lint off the hodie she's wearing to keep yourself from overthinking it, “Yes. For both things. It's not like we've never done that before, right?”

“...Right,” she looks down at your hand where it's rubbing circles on her shoulder, blinking in realization, “You're right!” she groans, “We already do all this stuff, how are people going to buy it if nothing changes between us? How will PJ?” You try to hold grimacing at the mention and Hazel rests her hands in her head in panic, “Fuck. We should've planned this before we got here, I'm a terrible liar.”

You really should have and she really is a terrible liar. Great, now you're getting nervous too. That's what happens when two anxious teenagers decide to do something on impulse. Just great.

“Okay,” you take a deep breath, someone has to take charge here, “Why don’t we just play along today without elaborating on anything for everyone? Then when class is over we can go to my place and plan everything properly together.”

Hazel relaxes a little at your words and nods, “Yeah, yeah. Sounds good,” she clears her throat, “So, I guess we’ll just have to wing it for today then.”

“It was your idea, sweetheart,” you shrug, “We’ll get through this day.”

The first bell rings and Hazel takes on a determined expression, nodding, she turns, gently taking the bag hanging from your shoulder and placing it next to hers, ignoring your confused look to extend a hand to you, “C’mon, we better not be late this time.”

And you go.

It takes a moment for you to absorb the gasps of excitement and surprise that come when you and Hazel enter Mr. G’s class, too busy cataloging the way her hand feels in yours to pay any real attention to your surroundings. Hazel’s hand is cold and a little damp from flutter, you can perfectly feel the outline of the loose rings on your intertwined fingers and it feels simply perfect. It’s different then other times you’ve held hands, as if she wanted to transmite another kind of feeling. As if she wanted to show it off.

Hazel’s voice sounding close to your ear brings you back into the moment, she squeezes your hands together with an excited whisper: “I think it’s gonna work, she’s already looking at us.”

And sure enough, there’s PJ when you look up, sitting on the edge of the seat with her gaze burning into your hands, Josie watching the scene next to her with a raised eyebrow.

There’s also Sylvie and Annie, a bit perplexed but still cheering from their seats, not giving a damn about the students they don’t know coming into the room to actually try to study.

“What is that?” Sylvie slaps her hands on the table excitedly as you sit next to her and Hazel hands you your backpack, “You guys are a thing now? Dude, that’s awesome!”

“So you did listen to me,” Annie nods to Hazel in approval, “I told you that it had better options. Good job, Haze.”

Hazel lets out an awkward laugh, accepting the teasing with a red face and you stand there, shy and a little confused. You didn’t expect them to react so… genuinely happy, as if you hadn’t all been talking about her liking someone else just a few days ago, in fact, you expected a barrage of questions and suspicious looks. Well, who knows, maybe luck was just on your side with that.

(You kick Jeff's chair hard when the teacher isn't looking as you hear him laughing with his stupid friends about "the freak finally getting a girlfriend", giving Hazel an innocent smile when she turns around with a questioning look at the noise.)

The day passed peacefully, with Hazel walking you to every period, rushing to carry your bag and open doors for you, smiling brightly at your nods of approval and making sure to hold your hand at every opportunity.

It was really sweet to have someone do that for you, to try so hard. It made you feel like a schoolgirl in love and sighing in the hallways – which, for what it’s worth, you were – a warm, timid feeling filling your chest every time she came into view. During lunch she put an arm around you, happily chatting with everyone, taking your hand to play with your fingers once PJ was there too. You almost managed to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth and enjoy it fully – almost.

Now you were both leaving, absently commenting on the reactions you had elicited and you're thinking about what topics to cover when you get home to discuss and match stories, you had to make sure you were on the same page.

“Psst,” Hazel calls as you reach her car, opening the passenger door for you and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop you from getting in.

You frown at her upset expression, following her gaze to find the scene she’s staring at the other side of the parking lot.

“Oh,” it’s Josie, Isabel, Brittany, and PJ, of course, but this time with a new addition. The cheerleader Hazel mentioned before, clinging to the arm of a very pleased-looking PJ, “Shit, I’m sorry, Haze.”

Her lips press into a thin line and you feel a pang in your chest at how uncomfortable she is about this, but you can’t say anything because Brittany spots you and waves goodbye as she walks to her own car. And now all of your friends have seen you both too.

“They’re looking,” Hazel mumbles. She seems closer, even though you haven’t heard her approach. Her hand is still holding the door, she's almost leaning over your body.

“I've noticed,” you whisper back. You don't know why your voice suddenly got low, a shiver runs down your spine as you feel her touch moving up your arm.

Hazel leans in even closer, her breath is warm against your face. You gulp.

“She's looking.”

Maybe it was pretty naive, or stupid, that you started dating someone – whether it was fake or not – with the intention of showing it off and not having considered for a second that you would kiss that person, like, actually kiss them. It was just a small detail that your mind chose to so carefully ignore for the sake of your sanity. And that you shouldn't freak out about it, since in theory you've done this before. Still, here you are.

Hazel gets impossibly closer, bringing the hand running down your arm gently to rest on your cheek and you melt in the roughness of her touch, feeling the cold on your warm skin. Your breath hitches as Hazel looks deeply at you, searching for something that she seems to find when you close your eyes in anticipation.

It's all a matter of seconds, but time seems to freeze in the most cliché way when Hazel's lips meet yours for the first time. Her mouth feels warm and soft, a few strands of hair falling through her forehead tickle your face and you can't believe this is real. You swear your heart could explode at any moment with how fast it's beating and it would be totally worth dying for the way you feel right now.

And then when you sigh, about to put a hand on her waist to deepen the kiss, the moment is over and Hazel is pulling away with a little smirk to the driver's side.

You hear Isabel clapping her hands provocatively in the background, but you're too mortified to react in any way other than shakily getting into the car.

What are you doing with your life?

You’re pulled out of your reverie when Hazel stops at a red light, having been silent for most of the short drive, head leaning against the window.

“I’m sorry,” she clears her throat hastily and you look up in confusion, “I— I should’ve asked before kissing you like that. We haven’t talked about this yet, if it was okay or not and I keep doing things without telling you about it. I’m scared I might have crossed the line now ‘cause you still haven’t said a word about it.”

Hazel thinks you’re mad at her. That calm, intense demeanor she seemed to have assumed for a moment is nowhere to be found and you notice the way her hands nervously grip the steering wheel, doing everything she can to keep from looking at you directly. Hazel thinks you’re mad at her, when in fact it couldn’t be more opposed to it.

It’s just that you can’t stop thinking about the kiss. The feeling of her lips lingers on yours like a ghostly touch as the scene replays in your mind over and over.

And you’re bubbling inside. It’s a new thing you never seriously believed you’d share with her one day. In your most vulnerable moments, you knew your fantasies about kissing Hazel were nothing more than that. The real thing, however, was different than what you imagined. All-consuming, completely addictive, and it left you shocked, disturbed.

Because you wanted more.

How could you experience having all of this only for reality to knock on your door and you realize it wouldn’t be for as long as you wanted? You wondered how it would end after this.

You were fucked.

“No! I'm not mad at you!” You exclaim, trying not to turn into a mess, “You didn't cross any line. It's just that, uhm…” your body seems to heat up from your face to your chest in embarrassment. How do you tell someone you just had your first kiss when it all happened like it was nothing? “It was sudden and I… well— I've never kissed anyone before that.”

You said the wrong thing.

“What?”

“Haze.”

Hazel seems to freeze for a moment, eyes wild and nostrils flaring, the exact expression of someone who is about to freak out. Her face turns evidently red.

“What?”

You rush to stop the spiral she's in: “Haze, it's okay. It's no big deal, seriously.”

“I— I stole your first kiss?” She's completely panicked now, “Oh my god, Y/N, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You don’t know how to tell her that apologies only make you feel bad, that you wish it wasn’t a regret for her, because after all it wasn’t one for you.

“Sweetheart, please,” you try again, instinctively placing your hand on her arm, “It’s alright. It was good, I can’t think of anyone else who would have treated me so gently like that. And you didn’t know, okay? It wasn’t on purpose.”

Hazel gulps, clearly drowned in guilt, her gaze dropping to where your hand is touching her and back to your face, suddenly shy. You pull away as if you’ve been burned, but neither of you can say anything because what feels like the longest red light in history finally turns green and a car behind you honks and swears loudly.

She clears her throat, turning back to driving:

“I still should have asked anyway.”

You snort: “If you had asked me, I still would have said yes.”

“Oh, okay.”

As if you couldn’t make things any more weirder. Great.

Hazel looks flustered and desperate to break out of the tension that’s settled over the car:

“But,” she mumbles in a perplexed tone, “What about that time you and Sylvie got locked in the pantry on Stella’s birthday? I thought…”

Maybe at this point you should just jump out of this moving car and buy a shovel, since you’re so spectacularly good at digging your own grave.

“We promised to never talk about that again.”

“Right.”

You both only speak again once you’re back in your room and you end up snapping with Hazel when all she does is sit on the bed with her eyes stuck on the floor, a whirlwind of thoughts so obvious in her head that you can almost hear them. You end up stuttering something like ‘you said you’d come over so we could talk and now you’re going to spend the whole time in silence?’

Hazel still looks very uneasy, as if she expects you to change your mind and yell at her at any minute, but she relaxes a little when she notices you letting her guide the conversation at her own pace.

You decide to formulate a simple story just in case your friends decide they want details and ask about it. Yes, you’ve just gotten together a couple days ago; Yes, you’ve liked each other for a long time and were just too much of a coward to admit it; No, you haven’t been on your first official date (yet). Basic and realistic, nothing that would raise suspicions or that you could end up messing, because if there was one thing you knew for certain in all this time knowing each other, it was that Hazel was terrible at sustaining acts for long.

Hazel also makes a point of asking you thousands of times what was okay or not in terms of PDA, checking you for any sign of discomfort that might be being omitted – you said that everything was fine, as long as she asked you or gave some sign first, which she swore she would do.

It's only when Hazel is gathering her things to leave that you ask perhaps the most important question about everything, watching her put the bag on her shoulder and push the hair out of her eyes. She looks beautiful.

"How long do you think this will last, Haze?"

She hums, a little uncertain and suddenly thoughtful: "Until it works out, I guess? I think we'll just have to make sure that it happens fast," she licks her lips, "I... I'll make it up to you for this, okay? For all of this.”

You mumble an agreement, staring at her as she says goodbye and walks away.

You feel too anxious to sleep, your heart pounding against your throat irritably as you roll restlessly over the blankets once more. You come across your desk, where the aquarium with your goldfish swims in circles. Poor thing, you should give it a bigger house, maybe with a den to hide in, just like you want to do now.

You can't stop reliving the moments of the day, every second spent with Hazel comes right back to you. Hands holding, gentle acts, soft gazes, the kiss. The goddamn kiss.

You ponder for a long moment if it would be worth it to enjoy what would come next if PJ actually made a move and you had your fake breakup – which would probably hurt like a real one – so that Hazel would be free to move on. Would you be happy for her? You weren't sure.

You weren't sure of much, but just thinking about them being together in the hallways, acting and touching like you just did a few hours ago for the rest of the year until graduation makes you sick. Would you still be as close as you are now? It might be a little awkward being friends with your ex, especially if her current partner kind of hates you already.

Sighing, you reach for your phone on your desk, scrolling through it to find a spam of texts in your group chat with your friends. You snort, of course they wouldn't stay quiet after the parking lot scene, as if they would miss out on gossip like that.

10 unread messages

annie (with an I)

[guys I've heard the gays gave a show in the exit today]

britt-britt

[they did but y/n wont answer any of my texts and its been hoursss

omg do you think they died on the way back??]

annie (with an I)

[what??? no. definitely not]

slaylvie

[oh maybe she's just too busy with her NEW GIRLFRIEND

stealing the girl all to ysf that was such a queen move fr]

isabeautiful

[she's probably just ignoring us britt it's not like she can't read or smth]

britt-britt

[u sure?

oh ur probably right

wait can u read y/n or are you like that one lady from glee]

Y/N silenced the group.

slaylvie

[now that's just fckng rude.]

You definitely won't reply to anything after this long and chaotic day, especially not about the subject you want to get off your mind, instead, you huff and open the private chat with Isabel after seeing the proud text she sent earlier.

[you've planned all of this since the beginning, didn't you?]

She replies in the next second:

[you only realized it now?]

Hazel keeps her promise of what she said about making it up to you and the next few weeks are uneventful. It’s almost natural how your routine adapts quickly to the new things.

Holding hands in the hallways, sticky notes with sweet words stuck on your locker, good morning and good night texts, arms around each other when you sit down at lunch or at the club, kisses – even though they don’t happen as often as you would like – Isabel even manages to convince you to go on a double date soon and even though Hazel makes a point of touching you or talking loudly about your plans whenever PJ’s around, she doesn’t whine about it to you anymore, which strangely feels like a victory.

A very short-lived victory, since you end up with a chapped lip because of it.

You honestly hadn’t seen it coming. It was just another afternoon of club practice, your meetings had been cut short for a while – the school had to punish you somehow after Huntington – and you’d finally gotten back into the swing of things with the fighting and the exercises and no one had gotten hurt besides a few bruises on their wrists.

Until PJ declared that she would be your partner.

You’d noticed how she’d been acting lately, responding to everyone in her typical passive-aggressive way and glaring at you with a sour expression whenever Hazel was around and finding excuses to touch her whenever possible, a result of all your displays of affection and the gossiping your friends were sure to do when you weren’t hearing.

You thought Hazel would be pleased with this since it was a sign that the plan was working, but she seemed oddly uncomfortable, bringing up the subject less and less. In fact, you’re pretty sure there was once or twice when she simply took your hand and led you somewhere else.

Maybe that gave your stupid heart the false hope you tried so hard not to cling to and made you sigh even more lovingly when you laid eyes on her and it's likely that you weren't the only one who noticed it.

That could explain PJ's loud steps approaching with her fists clenched at her sides as you, Isabel and Hazel tried to reach a consensus on which ice cream shop to go to next weekend, waiting for Josie to finish her round from where she was furthest away to vote too, and it explains her insistence even after you lied and said you had already agreed to go against Annie later – which was also a bad idea, that girl knows how to do more than just throw a few punches.

She didn't take no for an answer and even Hazel seemed hesitant to let you go, pulling you close and trying to convince PJ that maybe it would be better if she went to help some new members with their moves. It didn't work, of course, but the concern in her voice melted your heart a little.

So you've ended up in a circle with your teammates cheering loudly and the first punch that hits you makes your head snap to side with a loud crack, your gaze falling on Mr. G, engrossed in his phone at the back of the court.

Well, you think, at least your funeral won't happen without the supervision of a – partially – responsible adult.

You hit back just as hard as she did, but you end up lying on your back on the mat in pain anyway, listening to your teammates, oblivious to the tension, congratulate PJ on her easy win. Damn, she really took all her amassed anger out on you.

“Are you okay?” Hazel’s worried face fills your vision and you groan as she gently pulls you to sit up, cupping your face gently, “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll live,” you joke, but she doesn’t seem to find it funny, tilting your chin up to inspect it better, lips pressed into a thin line.

Suddenly, you saw PJ approaching with an expression that failed to not look proudly – if the little smirk on the corner of her mouth said anything – even with the bruises forming that you left on her, she leaned over and patted Hazel on the shoulder, making a provocative comment that you didn't bother to pay attention to, as if she expected Hazel to congratulate her too and that was enough for her expression to change completely. Her forehead furrowed, her nose twitched in disbelief and you could feel the way her hands shook a little with pent-up anger where they descended to your shoulders.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Both you and PJ widened eyes, not expecting the explicit bite in her voice. It was unbelievable that Hazel would be rude to anyone, much less to the shocked girl in front of her.

PJ didn’t seem to really understand why there would be anything wrong with what she just did and that almost made you feel bad for her, but anyone should know better than to tease a stressed-out Hazel.

She coughs, clearly embarrassed:

“Jeez! You never know how to take a joke,” she holds up her hands in placation, looking indignant, before fixing her eyes on you, “We were just playing, it was fun, right?”

If you were less petty, maybe you would have nodded and moved on for the sake of your crush’s potential dream relationship but honestly? It’s hard to give a fuck about any of those things when you think about how swollen and bruised your face will be on the day you’re supposed to have the closest thing to a cliché, cute date before graduation.

“For you, maybe.”

She rolls her eyes and looks like she wants to say something else, but Josie comes over and quickly wraps an arm around her shoulders, apologizing and dragging her away to avoid any further discussion with a grimace on her face. It’s only then that you notice the curious looks of your friends at the scene.

Hazel takes a deep breath, biting her lip nervously and looking suddenly embarrassed, before moving to help you up.

“C’mon,” she clears her throat, “Let’s take care of you.”

Hazel is upset.

She hadn’t been quiet for a single second the entire time you’d arrived at the infirmary, having spent the entire journey there mumbling incoherently. Now she had one hand firmly resting on your knee on the stretcher she’d insisted you take, while the tired-looking nurse tried to explain that none of your injuries were serious enough for anything more than bandages and an ice pack – which you’d already tried to tell Hazel, but to no avail.

“Are you sure she’s okay?” she asked for the millionth time, and you could practically feel the effort the nurse was making not to sigh.

“Yes.” She replied, pulling a box of kids' band-aids from her uniform pocket to give it to you, “She didn’t hit her head when she fell, did she? So all you have to do is clean up the blood and wait for the cuts to heal.”

“Okay, hm-hm,” Hazel nods quickly, effectively dismissing the nurse, “I can do that.”

This time the nurse does sigh and give up, mumbling about not getting paid enough before leaving the room – definitely to get a moment away from the annoying teenagers she's seeing all day – and then you’re alone.

Hazel finally goes quiet and her face scrunches up in concentration as she grabs a damp cloth so she can wipe away the red staining of your face and something twists in your stomach.

She hasn’t spoken directly to you since you left and something twists in your stomach at that.

She’s mad at me, you think.

It was obvious that you couldn’t control yourself, painfully obvious that something was going to happen and that you were going to ruin everything because of your temper and your inability to keep your mouth shut. You made this bed, now it’s time to accept the fact that, first, you suck at making beds, and, second, you have to lie in it. Both figuratively and literally. Well, it's a stretcher, but still.

“I'm sorry, Haze,” you say regretfully, holding her hands working on your face in place so she stops and turns her attention back to you.

“Hm?” She lifts her head looking surprised, as if only then remembering you were there too, “For what?”

You look away embarrassed, biting the inside of your cheek: “I didn't mean to ruin things with PJ back there, I know that she was finally doing something and…”

“Wait,” her eyes widened, “Wait, wait, wait, you think I'm mad at you?”

You blink, hesitant: “You're not?”

“No, of course not!” Hazel grabs your shoulders frantically, “You just got beat up, why would I be mad at you?”

You shrug wordlessly, feeling a weird sensation of a deja-vú and Hazel releases you to rest her hands on the stretcher in exasperation.

“Oh, man,” she sighs. “I'm angry with PJ for what she did and I'm angry at myself for letting it happen.”

“But… I thought you'd like that she got jealous,” you fidget, confused, “She finally made a move, right?”

“Not like that! How would I be happy with her getting so possessive that she decided to take it as an excuse to hit you?” Hazel asks incredulously, looking at you like she's tired of even thinking about it, “That was completely out of line, this is not a PG13 gay version of After.”

You freeze for a second before bursting into laughter, ignoring the burning sensation on your lip that the action causes, and Hazel sits down next to you, seemingly satisfied that she’s wiped the worry from your face.

“Ugh, I don’t know,” she groans, running a hand through her hair looking lost.

“Don’t know what, sweetheart?” you turn to her, shoulders touching.

Hazel shakes her head as if trying to push away the thoughts that are bothering her, busying herself by opening one of the bandages for you:

“If I still want this,” she starts hesitantly, “I thought I wouldn’t mind if she kept being mean to me every now and then as long as she showed me that she liked me more, but I— I don’t want that to happen if it’s hurting you. I don’t want to be with someone who would hurt you.”

Your throat is dry. Hazel looks up to catch your eye and places the bandage on a cut on your chin, her hand stays there and you can hear your heart pounding against your ears.

Does she mean…? You're breathing fast, her face is so close to yours that you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. This has to be a dream or some kind of bad joke, maybe you did hit your head and are in a coma right now. You swear everything is in slow motion and there's a cheesy song playing deep inside of your mind. God, if only you hadn't fallen so hard.

You think back to all the moments you've shared so far, years and years of touching and spending time together, learning details about each other and trying to think of the part you missed when Hazel started looking at you like that, does she even know she's doing it? You think, searching deep in your memories, how could you miss that?

Maybe it was earlier this week, when she came up to you happily skipping and handed you a paper flower with the utmost pride she could muster that she had made it herself, because 'You said you always wanted to receive flowers, but you didn't say what kind, so I made you a special one.’

Or days ago, when she started leaving silly little notes stuck to your stuff, even though you saw her all the time; ‘see u later!’ in messy handwriting, ‘have a good day’ scrawled with a cartoon taped to the cover of your math notebook, ‘i'll be thinking of u’ on the locker door she just left you in, a stupid pun written in neon marker just because.

Was it before that? When she kissed you then? Before? Long before?

“Haze,” you call.

When did the possibility of her loving you become real?

“I thought I wanted it,” Hazel murmurs, “But I'm not sure anymore.”

She's going to kiss you. There's no one around now and she's going to kiss you because she wants it, not to show off. And you want it too, more than anything.

You move your hand to find purchase on her chest, grabbing a fistful of the shirt she's wearing. Your noses are brushing now, Hazel’s eyes narrow and you can almost taste her.

Then the nurse walks into the room, dropping the papers she was carrying when she sees the scene and the moment is completely lost.

She shoos you both out of the room, no matter how many stammered excuses you try to give her and you and Hazel trade shocked looks alone in the hallway before laughing as hard as you never did. The sound fills your ears, it’s completely divine. You laugh and laugh and laugh and you’ve never felt so happy, feeling your stomach flutter with butterflies when you feel her hand brush against yours, that she’s still here.

The laughter stops as it steals your breath – it wasn’t the only thing that stole it – and you feel cold where your skin was warm just a second ago, turning your head to find her a few feet away from you.

“Are you alright?” You ask, smiling, feeling light, as if you weighed the same as the paper flower stored in your bag.

She stares at you, hair messy, face red, clothes wrinkled and eyes full of emotion that you can't distinguish with how quickly they pass. You wonder what she's gonna do, if she's going to press you against the wall and kiss you here in this hallway like she wanted before, if she's going to take your hands and tell you that she wasn't sure about things, but wanted to find out with you. Another emotion flashes in her eyes as she takes another step back, the only one you can recognize: regret.

Hazel turns and runs away from there. She leaves.

Luck has been on your side for a long time during all of this, so of course at some point everything would end up going wrong. And you, of course, would end up in the crossfire.

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #bottoms 2023 #bottoms x reader #bottoms hazel #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x you #hazel bottoms #denwrites

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skulldetergent · 18 days

Text

ghost scar headcanons (CW for his backstory)

no tattoo/no text version & explanation under the cut

CW⚠️ discussion of child abuse, torture, self harm & sa

since i headcanon ghost to have quite a few scars, i decided to make a "character sheet" or "scar map" to keep my art more consistent.

in the drawing, the scars are already labeled and i think pretty self-explanatory, but i will go into some more detail and elaborate on my headcanons. again, please read the content warning. i did my best at trying to discuss the following in a sensitive way, but it may be upsetting to read nonetheless.

let's begin with the ones that say "mission". i imagined they are just random scars he sustained during his service over the years, like gunshot scars or knife slashes from close combat.

but others like "roba's hook", the autopsy scar, tally marks, the whip scars and his glasgow smile are from during the time where he was captured and tortured. i headcanon reboot ghost to have pretty much the same backstory as OG ghost, with some slight differences and additions of my own.

things like the glasgow smile or tally marks are made up by me, and others like the being hanged from his ribs actually happened (comics). ghost was also canonically sexually assaulted multiple times, which gave me the idea of said tally marks to emphasise how cruel his captors were.

correct me if i'm wrong, but in the comics ghost doesn't have any scars after being tortured, any cuts shown on his body just cease to exist a few panels later. but considering what he was put through, i do think that there would be permanent scarring.

now, it's also canon that ghost was abused by his father in ways like him bringing large animals such as snakes in his room to scare him, or having him watch a woman die from OD, which made me consider what the full extent of his terrible father's "parenting" must've looked like.

ghost has a small, almost faded scar under his eye, he was too young to remember how he got it, only finding out when his mother told him. his father was being neglectful when he was supposed to watch him, and simon injured himself while wandering around.

now, it is unclear in the comics if mr. riley's abuse was purely psychological, or if it extended to physical as well (again, correct me if i'm wrong). but i didn't find it unrealistic to have the latter be the case, which is why simon has cigarette burn scars on his neck and legs. his father found it amusing under the guise of "making him a man" and seeing how long little simon could take it before he would start crying. nowadays the burns are barely visible.

and lastly, the self harm scars covered up by the tattoo sleeve on his left arm. considering what simon had to go through at an early age, it is not unlikely that he might have resorted to SH as a teenager. and later, he got the tattoo as a reminder to himself that those days are his past and not his present.

i really read the comics and said:

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sommerregenjuniluft · 2 months

Text

@jegulus-microfic june 20 - response - 2623 words - nsfw content!

about love against all odds feat. injury related prematurely retired football player james that settled and raised a son and international football star regulus

for regulus pencil mustache truther @veryinnovative, my football (players) loving wife @rottin6 and my number 1 enabler @itmeanssungod

James is kneeling behind Harry on a picnic blanket with Lily when their last guests arrive. “There they are!” Sirius’ voice carries easily over the meadow and just as expected a few seconds later there’s a big, black scrub of a panting dog in front of them, curious to see what Harry and James are up to, which is flying a kite.

“Oh my God– Hi!” Lily says, getting up. Which is a bit enthusiastic for the fact that they’ve seen Sirius and Remus only last weekend and should have been James’ first clue. Though, admittedly, he was a bit busy angling the kite and also angling Harry’s face away from Padfoot’s butt to avoid suffocation.

“Moony couldn’t make it today unfortunately,” Sirius says, closer now, “but I’ve brought substitution.”

James isn’t proud of the way his entire upper body whips around, Harry included, who lets out a small yelp at the sudden motion. “Sorry, mate. Sorry. I’m—”

Lily is already there to take over, nudging James to get up who’s working very hard on closing his jaw and not staring like an idiot.

Because standing there besides his brother is Regulus. Hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, paired with a simple back t-shirt and green Adidas trainers. He does not look like he belongs onto a colourful picnic blanket in a park in London yet there he is.

He’s sporting a pencil stach now. Regulus had been convinced Sirius had already used up all the genetic material for pronounced body hair on the first way around, leaving behind very little for his younger brother. James, being on the hairier side as well, used to tease him about it endlessly back when they were in school. But it seemed to develop now in his late twenties. James has only seen it on the TV in a few matches and on one or two instagram posts but the real deal is even worse. Regulus looks criminally hot with it. The whole picture of lithe muscle, strong quads and stronger calves, curly hair, the occasional tattoo. He’s every young heterosexual woman’s wet european football boyfriend dream and James’ gut is swooping.

“Reg.”

“Hi, James,” Regulus responds, much more articulated, sporting a hint of a smirk.

Oh, he— “Bastard,” James mutters, low enough so Harry behind him won’t hear and then he’s grinning and yanking Regulus into a firm hug.

They all have a late lunch together at a nearby restaurant and Regulus is patiently letting Harry talk his ears off about Ninjago and preschool and Ron and Moine. Lily is taking him over the weekend and James bids his goodbye with a loud smooch to his son’s cheek.

And just as James is about to invent a crazy, elaborate story about how he has something back at his house he’d meant to show Regulus for ages without making it interesting enough for Sirius to tag along, this one simply taps two fingers against his eyebrow in a mock salute before making his way in the other direction, Padfoot trotting along dutifully. “Why do you think I hid him from you all Thursday? Have fun, kids!”

Regulus groans pathetically and turns to hide his face into James’ shoulder.

“I told you we can’t keep it a secret from him forever. He probably knew all along,” James chuckles and takes Regulus’ duffel, “C’mon, love.”

It starts in the elevator up, is a wonder they make it past the hallway and into the bedroom. It’s very much overdue and heated and desperate all the way through.

James might or might not have pinned Regulus one too many times into the mattress and offhandedly commented something along the line’s of Regulus being his and cuffing him to the bed if he needs to. And it’d worked because Regulus had moaned so prettily, eyelids fluttering and hips bucking, cock twitching and all James could think about then was where’s the fucking lube.

Saying that, he doesn’t quite expect Regulus to bring it up after the fact.

James is absolutely blissed out, breathing only just levelling out as he traces the shape of Regulus’ kiss bitten lips.

“You know I can’t stay, Jamie.”

He shrugs easily, kneading Regulus’ muscled thigh where it’s slung over his hip, “We’ll come with you then.”

“To Portugal?” Regulus’ eyebrows rise as he props himself on his elbow, his tone flat. “And then to France in a couple of months when I switch clubs? I don’t think that’s such a good idea given Harry is five.”

“Au contraire—”

Regulus rolls his eyes and slaps him on the naked shoulder. “Moving every few years? And during the nationals not to mention,” he tucks an errant strand of hair back from James’ forehead, “Multiple continents, who knows which timezone. That’s no life for a child, James. And I haven’t even brought up Lily yet. She’s just as much part of his life as you are and it works out wonderfully for the time being with you two living so close. It’s what Harry deserves.”

And deep down James knows Regulus is right. And if he’s completely honest with himself, it isn’t the life he truly wants for himself either. That’s why he’s here and Regulus is out there. James knows it isn’t what’s best for Harry nor for himself and yet. And yet no matter how many times they have this conversation it seems endlessly irrelevant when Regulus is looking down at him this way. The shine of the sunset through the window is catching in his pillow mussed curls, in the dark lashes framing his blue silver eyes and rivalling the flush of his skin with its own red hue and James thinks Regulus looks like home. Like anything he could still want in life besides what precious he already has.

James heaves a heavy sigh and hungrily swerves his eyes over every single of Regulus’ features, committing them to memory. Because that’s all that’s gonna stay when Regulus inevitably leaves again. But that’s not what James wants to think about right now though.

“Regulus.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” James replies happily and pulls Regulus in by the back of his nape before his indignant expression can even fully form. Every single one of Regulus’ helpless sounds get swallowed eagerly and filed away for later. For a moment James is tempted to ask Regulus if he can get out his phone and record but he thinks better of it.

They have sex for hours.

James sucks all coherency out of Regulus through his cock and then fucks him so stupid, legs spread and pushed into the mattress, spit pooling out of the corner of his mouth, tears wetting his cheeks, cum smearing across his stomach, that he gets him to promise to stay. It’s futile and just a heat of the moment thing but it drives James so wild he almost blacks out when he eventually spills deep inside of him. There’s black dots and stars dancing in his vision when he watches it leak back out of Regulus’ puffy hole and a strange sense of satisfaction and dread mixing in his belly.

After a quick entangled and still very much nude power nap James arranges them a platter of fruit and crackers and cheeses. They shower and James changes the sheets only for Regulus to prop himself up on his side and watch intently as he edges James until he’s the one whining and crying. He’s using ridiculous amounts of lube, his hand is so warm and slick and squeezing just right and his thumb is swiping teasingly along the slit exactly how it makes James go insane and then he’s taking his hand away and James curses, already feeling another tear running down his cheek. His thighs are trembling, his knuckles turning white where he’s clinging to the headboard. Regulus is staring at him out of lidded, expectant eyes and James’ dick is aching and it’s all so sick and hot James has to bite his tongue hard not to tell Regulus he loves him right then and there.

He’s shown mercy, at last. Regulus makes him cum down his throat and over his face, there’s milky white running down the side of Regulus nose and James pulls him in with shaky arms for a downright nasty kiss.

They sleep until 2pm the next day and have a lovely, slow day bickering in the grocery store isles, preparing dinner together and not at all watching the movie that’s on the TV while they make out and frot on the couch like teenagers. Like back when they were teenagers.

Sunday morning Lily brings Harry before she’s heading out to brunch with her FLINTA boxing club and James’ heart riots in his chest when he watches how easily and adorably Regulus and Harry interact.

They meet up with Sirius and then drive Regulus to the airport together.

Goodbye is a bumpy thing. Harry is pure popcorn caramel sweetness between Regulus’ knees when he crouches down to hug him and James’ embrace, he knows, is much longer than socially acceptable. He vaguely notices Sirius distracting Harry, babbling to him about the stuffed toy assortment from a nearby shop as Regulus and James hold onto each other like they’re in a long distance relationship and not…well, whatever it is they can afford to be with Regulus visiting the country about three to five times a year.

There’s a fist clenched in the soft material of his t-shirt and James buries his nose in the curls of Regulus’ temple and inhales deeply. A spot he’s going to see sweat soaked on a flat screen and not getting to smell or touch or kiss for the unforeseeable future. At least that’s what he thinks for now.

Eventually they part and after a strong, swaying hug from Sirius and a few words about making him proud out on the field and seeing that physiotherapist about his shoulder and a safe flight Regulus is gradually disappearing into the distance with the grating velocity of your standard airport escalator. James doesn’t know who thought it was a good idea to be able to watch a loved one slip through your fingers at this agonising tempo but he’d like to have a word with them. His heart clenches in his chest, his lip already feels raw from worrying it with his teeth and James thinks, the warm weight of his son pressed to his chest, that, even though it might not seem that way, Harry is probably more holding him right now than the other way around.

And life’s a funny thing sometimes.

Because, like every time when Regulus bids his goodbye, leaving behind not exactly shards but rather yet another pin in James’ heart, wrapped around by a red string Regulus indisputably, invariably takes along across the ocean every time, it bleeds and burns and burns so badly that they get ice cream. Sirius slaps him between the shoulder blades, pays for his chocolate mint and hazelnut, tells him he’s such a dad for his choice and, together with Harry, tries distracting him as best as he can manage.

And so begins a week of moping and then one and a half of delusion and overcompensation, full of fun trips and adventures, and then another few of avoidance, full of social media free zones and grinding through work and scheduling all kinds of appointments to fill their freetime until—

Until one day he can’t avoid it anymore.

A bright, blinking LED sign in the form of an incoming call on his phone screen that’s making James’ heart stutter in his chest. He’s just sat back down in front of his computer in his home study after lunch break and started wiggling an USB stick into a port when the vibrations had made his head shoot up.

It’s just the three letters of Reg and a silly photo of when he was seventeen, pulling a face at James taking a picture of him on his digital camera.

Regulus never calls.

James isn’t sure he’s breathing.

It’s barely been about two months, not close to visiting time again, and Regulus usually never calls so James sits there absolutely dumbstruck and convinced the universe is pulling a sick joke on him.

The call ends abruptly and James blinks harshly. He fumbles for his phone and clicks into his call history. Incoming call from Reg in red font, signalising it’s been missed, followed by the exact time of the day it is at the moment.

James presses on the little phone icon.

It only rings once before there’s a voice on the other side of the line.

“James?” Regulus sounds slightly breathless. James hasn’t heard his voice over the line in about seven years.

“Yeah?” James says back. His heart is pounding in his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. Then James realises he should probably say something more. “Err, Hi. I’m—” he sighs, clicks his tongue, clears his throat, tries again. “Did you just call me?” “Hi,” Regulus says back, still breathless and it sort of sounds like he’s smiling. James blinks again. “Yeah, yeah. I did call.”

“Oh,” James makes. His heart does a little spin in his chest. “Uh, what’s up?”

“I’m coming to England,” Regulus declares, giggling. James’ heart tries to leap out of his chest at the sound.

“Cool, cool. You got another away game?” He winces, closes his eyes, “Sorry, I haven’t been keeping up with your matches lately.”

“No, James, I’m– wait. Okay, rude, first of all—”

James snorts and rolls his eyes, now grinning against the phone as well. “Sue a guy for being heartbroken.”

“Yeah, I just might,” Regulus quips. “But…what I was initially going to say is, No, James, I’m not having an away game in England.”

“No?” James asks, confused. Nationals are still a while away so that can’t be it.

“No. I’m having a home game in England,” and James wonders how something so soft spoken can pack such an ear-ringing gutpunch.

“I’m— Regulus, what,” James stands up, his chair loudly scraping against the hardwood floor. “Are you saying…”

A single chuckle works its way out of Regulus and over the line to James, “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

James’ heart is sprinting away from him. He’s sweating. His breath is coming faster and he feels like he should run a lap around the property. Or six. “Regs, love, please spell it out for me because I’m not entirely sure I just hallucinated what you—”

“Arsenal made me an offer,” Regulus says and James hears angels singing in the background, “A better one.”

“Oh, fucking Christ,” James pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead, “Reg, I swear to God if you’re joking right now I’m personally flying over and—”

An exasperated noise, grin evident in his voice nonetheless, “I’m being honest, James, God’s sake. You can fucking look it up online, they probably already posted about it.”

A breath punches out of James, he sinks back down into his desk chair. There’s a polaroid of him and Regulus from Halloween a few years back, alien and a scientist. It was a fucking mess scrubbing all that green paint off again and it didn’t help that Regulus abandoned his sponge in favor of grabbing at James’ hardness through his briefs. It had been the first night they kissed since they were teenagers.

With a sudden clarity, all the tension floods out of James’ body with a slightly delirious laugh and he leans his cheek into the warmed glass of his phone screen, “You’re coming home.”

Regulus sounds equally giddy, equally drunk on love and fate. “Yeah, Jamie, I’m coming home.”

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captainuranium543 · 8 days

Text

Ft headcanons nobody wanted part 2

-natsu will occasionally get genuinely jealous over his friends owning appliances for heating. Why should they need those things when they have him, if they just call him over her do a way better job then any of those stupid gadgets. He finds out gray owns a hair dryer and immediately becomes a jealous ex girlfriend. He confronts Lucy in her apartment one night acting so serious he she doesn't even get mad that he broke in, then just goes "care to explain this?" And puts a lighter on the table.

- Wendy is very very quiet. Creepily so. Not elaborating but I think you can imagine the kinds of situations this leads to.

- Mira's eyes glow in the dark and it creeps everyone the fuck out

- erza has the worst hoarding problem. Her dorm room is entirely piled floor to ceiling with boxes of meticulously organized random items she refuses to throw out for some reason

young Mira: "alright this is ridiculous why do you even have this"

Young erza: "say what you want but when you need 746 packets of Mcnolias sweet and sour sauce and find your supply baron I'll be laughing"

- levy is one of the few members of the guild who actively sought it out to join. Before fairy tail she was an orphan and a student studying magic. She left to join fairy tail to learn more about magic in general from real world experience.

- laki will sometimes build creepily realistic wooden statues of her guild mates and leave them around in inconspicuous places so when you find them they scare the shit out of you. Sometimes she hides them too well and it takes years to discover them.

- Lucy has actually written several unpublished novels and the only other person who's ever seen them is levy. Lucy thinks their crap but levy carefully annotates every single one.

- laxus used to occasionally be forced to go on jobs with erza and Mira when they were young both to help and to make sure they didn't kill each other and he hated it.

- I think I might have said this before but I firmly believe levy, Lucy, freed and jellal later on all form a book club because they love reading, the problem is they all have vastly different tastes in book so they can never decide what to read each week and usually just end up playing Scrabble and talking shit about their various teammates

"please guys trust me this one's good"

"I am NOT reading Colleen Hoover Lucy and that's final"

- this one's based on city hero but I personally believe erza and Erik find a shocking common ground over motorcycles. Erza likes vehicles in general and Erik took up bike racing as a hobby, since discovering this is the longest they've been able to be in the same room together without someone throwing a punch.

- Wendy visits lamia scale regularly still to hang out with chelia. she usually brings romeo and they all go out to do whatever dumb kid stuff they want. (Tbh I just like her having friends her own age)

-lucy sometimes randomly lets her rich girl's heritage show in random conversation and it's always jarring. You'll be having a normal chill convo with her and then she'll look you dead in the eyes and ask you what colour your personal carriage was growing up.

- Natsu is genuinely a really good cook he just has a terrible taste so nobody wants to eat his food. For reference he only ever cooks his food because he enjoys doing it to him it tastes fine either way.

- if you had asked the fairy tail guild who the scariest guild member was in early season 1 the answers would have been erza, guildarts, laxus etc all the usual suspects. Once season 2 starts however the answer is unanimous. It's juvia. Juvia is fucking terrifying when she gets mad. You don't realize how scary water can be until it's filling your lungs and as your vision blurs until all you can see is her merciless stare.

- Mira and freed can drink blood for demon reasons. gray can too after getting devil slayer but he thinks its gross. Surprisingly so can gajeel because of the high iron content.

- gray the type of guy who's bed has only the smallest thinnest blanket on his bed and usually it's on the ground cuz he gets too hot

- meanwhile erza is the type of girl to have so many pillows, blankets and plushies on her bed you wonder how she fucking sleeps in it. Mf has a NEST.

- Lucy isn't even surprised anymore when she finds people in her house, she doesn't know how they keep getting in and honestly she doesn't care anymore she's to tired to deal with it.

- freed plays a lot of really fucking weird instruments. Idk it just seems like something he would do.

- bixlow can speak most languages and it's always really surprising when he randomly says smth like "oh yea I can speak ancient nirvid no prob" like that's totally normal

- if laxus and freed ever did get together (in my heart it's cannon) evergreen and bixlow would be their biggest haters. Yea they love them and they're happy for them but also EW. GROSS. GET A ROOM.

#fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #gray fullbuster #mirajane strauss #laxus dreyar #jellal fernandes #levy mcgarden #gajeel redfox #erza scarlet #wendy marvell #freed justine #erik/cobra #laki olietta #headcannons

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cottonlemonade · 2 months

Note

Hi hi!! I saw your lemonade stand and I LOVE the concept omg. Can I request a medium watermelon lemonade with pomegranate seeds for Asahi?

Thank you so much if you write it !! I hope you have a great day 🩷

Sharing A Tent With His Crush

word count: 1926 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: Asahi x chubby manager!Reader

genre: fluff with spice

warning: mdni, spoilers

request: fluffy-spicy, sharing a tent with pining friend Asahi

“One, two, three, four…”

As Takeda counted in the background, Coach Ukai studied his clipboard, listening with a content smile to the hollering and laughter that was carried up from the beach by an easy sea breeze. The kids were off swimming and building sandcastles and trenches, enjoying their hard earned freedom after weeks of studying and practices.

“Oh no.”

Ukai turned to the teacher.

“What is it, Sensei?”

“Oh nononono - no!”

“What? Did we forget a cooler? What?”

“We are one tent short!”

“What?!”, Ukai’s booming yell made some birds fly out of a tree top, “I double checked it! Are you sure?”

The men stood shoulder to shoulder, counting. Again. And again. But even after the fifth time, Ukai had to admit his mistake.

“What are we gonna do?”, Takeda asked, panic rising in his voice.

“We just… gotta rethink logistics.”, Ukai said, grabbing the clipboard once more and flipping to the page of the sleeping arrangements.

One of the boys was supposed to sleep alone anyway. And one of the girls, too, because both numbers were uneven.

“Maybe we can squeeze Nishinoya, Hinata and Yamaguchi into one and then have y/n take the free boys’ tent.”

“Sensei, we can’t just sort them by size. I think… hm, y/n is a third year. If we put her with one of the other third years they should have the presence of mind not to try any funny business. The first years won’t get a wink of sleep having a girl so close to them at night and the second years are as girl-crazy as they come.”

“How about Sugawara then?”

“Don’t be too trusting, Sensei. I don’t think he is as innocent as he seems.”, Ukai said with a frown, “And Sawamura might do something without even realizing he is flirting. - I hate to say it but … Azumane will be too chicken to even go near her. I think he is our best bet.”

Asahi went pale when the news broke over dinner. He looked at you and was quite relieved to see you equally as shocked.

“It‘s just for one night.“, Ukai said quickly, “Not a big deal.“

Both the ace and third manager would very much beg to differ but the coach already made his way back to Takeda and his plate of chicken.

“No big deal.“, you repeated under your breath.

“No big deal.“, Asahi agreed.

It was, in fact, a big deal to Asahi. He didn‘t know exactly when he started to be hopelessly in love with you but if he had to take a guess, it was probably somewhere around the time when he noticed all of his sketches and doodles of various outfits becoming chubbier until they eventually matched your figure. Skirts for a lovely Sunday date, pantsuits for eventually kicking butt at an office where you undoubtedly would end up as CEO sooner or later, dresses for imaginary galas you‘d attend and even an elaborate gown for a daydream of a royal ball he had during a boring physics lesson. (He also came up with his own outfit for that occasion to match you.)

Noya was the only one he confided in. The libero had sworn on his honor to never hit on you and ever since tried to push his best friend to make a move before graduating and possibly losing sight of you. And after much pushing and pestering and strategizing, Asahi, under threat of violence, had agreed to confess his feelings before graduation - as an out, Asahi didn’t tell his friend that he hadn’t actually specified whether it was graduating high school or university so he still had time either way.

After dinner the team gathered around a bonfire to roast marshmallows and make up completely ridiculous, yet confident, remarks about constellations in the clear night sky.

Asahi was torn between wanting to play for time until curfew or savor every second of the increasingly appealing mishap - to share a tent, all night, alone, side by side with his crush.

But of course, as with every good beach episode, there had to be a game of truth or dare involved.

Daichi was forced to admit that he was deadly scared of mice, Hinata had to sit still for a whole minute and, in the meantime, Tsukki was dared to not insult him once. It was fun until Noya turned to you and the glint in his eyes made you gulp.

“So, y/n-san. Truth or dare?”

Quite frankly, both of these were dangerous coming from him but maybe truth wouldn’t be so bad.

Noya gave a victorious grin.

“Who, of the people here, do you have a crush on?”

Asahi wasn’t sure if it was the light of fire that made your cheeks look so pink. His heart quickened. You stammered, kneading your fingers in your lap.

“Alright everyone.”, Daichi said when an alarm went off on his phone, “Let’s get to bed. Lights out in 15 minutes.”

Noya groaned and began to argue but one look from the captain had him crumble. So instead, he and Tanaka pushed each other out of the way, eager to be the one to accompany Kiyoko the few steps to the tent she shared with Yaachi.

Suga and Daichi gave Asahi a nondescript nod Goodnight before heading to bed themselves.

It was quite miraculous, you thought, how Asahi’s massively tall frame could fit next to you, when your plump form occupied a good part of the truly pathetically crammed tent already.

You sat cross legged on your sleeping bag, in your pyjama shorts and oversized t-shirt. Given the sleeping arrangements you decided to keep wearing a bra.

“Just for one night, right?”, you said in a (failed) attempt to make your voice sound light and airy.

You pumped some oil into the palm of your hand before running your fingers through your hair. The pleasant smell filled the tent. You caught his eyes and smiled, then both of you looked away again. The atmosphere was somewhat stiff, even though you’ve been on friendly terms with the fellow third years ever since you switched over from the Sewing Club about a year ago.

“Do you think-“

“So what would you-“

You said at the same time and broke off, laughing awkwardly.

“You first.”, he said.

“Do you think it’s okay if we keep on a light?”, you asked.

“Sure. Do you have one? Cause otherwise, I brought-” Asahi reached for his backpack and so did you.

After a moment’s rummaging you produced a small panda bear figure and turned to see a thing in his hand that looked suspiciously like a round little rabbit with a leaf umbrella.

“Is that… is that the official Totoro night light with 8 different color options and dimming function??”

Asahi nodded and you clasped your hands in delight, leaning closer to inspect it as he held it out to you. You let out a small gasp. This was one of the best night lights on the market right now after all!

“I wanted one of those for ages! But they're always sold out! How did you get it?”

“I set myself an alert for when they’re back in stock.”

He basked in your impressed “Ohhhh” and a few minutes later you both lay on your stomachs, looking at the two soft glowing figures in front of you.

Outside the tent, Ukai nodded approvingly on his last checkup before turning in himself in the room he shared with Takeda in a guesthouse on the border of the camping grounds.

“What was your question?”

“Hm?”, Asahi turned to look at you.

“Earlier when I asked you about the light. You wanted to say something as well. What was it?”

“Oh, not important.”, he said and moved the Totoro night light a little closer to your panda.

“Come on, I wanna know.”, you lightly pushed his leg with your foot to encourage him.

“I was just… I-i was wondering what you would have said if Daichi’s alarm hadn’t gone off.”, he mumbled.

“When? Oh, the game. Uhm.” The pink from earlier returned to your cheeks. Now would be as good a time as any, you thought and after a deep breath you replied, “You.”

Stupidly, Asahi rolled around to check if there was someone else behind him in the tiny tent before moving his attention back to you.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”, you laughed.

“I- I don't know what to say.”, Asahi stammered.

You regarded him with a thoughtful smile, still somewhat hopeful that what Kiyoko and Suga told you was right.

“Well, you could tell me if you feel the same or not, maybe?”

“Oh right! Yes!”, he said, much louder than intended and ducked his head a moment later, “Yes, I do like you. A lot.”

You beamed at him.

“Nice.”

The following giggles were suppressed in your respective pillows.

When you came back up for air he brushed a few loose strands of hair out of his face and cleared his throat, “Would you like to go out with me once we’re back?”

“I’d love to.”

“Great.”

You both looked at each other, unsure of what to do next.

“So…”, you began, weighing your words carefully, “Do you wanna make out?”

If Asahi had been drinking water, he would have choked on it. His face immediately turned bright red and he needed a minute to put a coherent word together. You waited patiently.

“Yes.”, he croaked eventually.

He didn’t move.

“I’ll be right there.”, he assured you, his voice and face still not quite back to normal.

“That’s alright.”

Asahi’s eyes widened when you scooted closer and your noses almost touched.

“Hi.”

“H-hello.”

It started out with a peck. You pulled back to check if he had any objections but you didn’t get very far. His lips followed yours as if magnetic. He sighed into the kiss and your smile widened if possible even further. His large hand came to rest on your waist and you slotted your leg between his. The kiss soon became open mouthed, your tongue slipping back and forth to test the waters.

You hummed happily against him, making him squeeze your pillowy hips. He was losing his mind. How could one person feel this good? Your hand brushed down his muscular arm to lay on top of his and began to move it. He was so engrossed in your taste that he didn’t notice until he cupped your breast.

“Y/n…”, he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. He stared at his hand, how it went up and down along with your panting. You, in turn, felt him throb against your thigh that was pushed between his legs.

Your chubby fingers closed around his much larger hand, easing him into the idea that he was free to touch you.

“Y/n…”, he whispered again and was met with your lips on his once more. He had never been drunk before but he was sure this was exactly what it must feel like.

Asahi groaned into your mouth when his palm pressed against your hardened nipple, pushing through the fabrics.

____________________

Picking up a piece of omelet with his chopsticks the next morning, Asahi grinned down at his bowl of rice like an idiot. You sat right next to him, so close that your heavenly thighs touched his, just as dazed from the previous night.

Tsukki frowned and said to no one in particular, but loud enough for you to hear, “Do they realize that tents aren’t soundproof?”

a/n: this one got so away from me xD thank you for your request and your kind words! I hope you enjoy it 🌟

Also I apologize for being so inactive. It’s a mixture of writer’s block, summer heat and a twisted back 🥲

#sunnys lemonade stand #asahi x chubby reader #asahi azumane x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x curvy reader #asahi fluff #asahi x reader #asahi azumane #haikyuu asahi #azumane asahi #asahi smut

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7ndipity · 9 months

Text

How They Would Confess To Their Crush

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How they would confess to their crush. In connection to the Secret Crush HCs series.

Warnings: Swearing, slightly suggestive moments, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anons who requested this! This kinda feels like a conclusion to the secret crush HCs we’ve been working on for a while(tho I’m sure we’ll come up with some more ideas like first dates or smth, lol) Hope y’all like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

I think he would want to plan out some elaborate scene and make it romantic with flowers and music or smth, but in actuality he just ends up blurting it out as you’re hanging out one day.

He’s almost done it so many times, the words literally always on the tip of his tongue, so when they finally do come out, he’s almost as surprised as you are.

He immediately turns anxious bc “Oh shit, that was out loud, what do I do now?!”, but when you say you love him too and kiss him, his mind just goes completely blank and he leans in more, following your lead.

It might not have been how he imagined confessing, but the outcome is better than anything he could’ve dreamed up.

Yoongi:

He would probably end up quietly confessing during one of your late night hangouts where you’re both so tired but not willing to say goodnight, the conversations getting deeper the later it gets.

He thought it would take a lot more to make him finally confess, but something about the way you sleepily smile at him made it so easy, the words rolling off his tongue with almost no effort.

Even though you may have already had your suspicions that you were into each other, it still comes as a slight shock to hear him say it, your startled expression making him fear for a second that you’ll reject him, but then you say you feel the same way and it’s like he can breathe properly for the first time in forever.

You end up talking till you fall asleep tangled together, happier and more content than you’ve both felt in a long time.

Hobi:

He would go all out, surprising you when you come over to hang out with flowers, candles/fairy lights, music, the works.(It almost looks more like a proposal than a confession, but he really wants to impress you and show how much you mean to him)

He would be so nervous, even if you both kinda already knew how the other felt, he can’t help worrying about what if he’d misread things or if you said no.

Luckily, his fears are completely unfounded, bc as soon as you walk in and he starts the speech he’s prepared, you nearly burst into tears before tackling him in a tight hug, saying you love him too.

Most of the evening is spent curled up together on the couch, fessing up to all the times where you fell for each other.

Namjoon:

It would probably happen after a fight or smth when you’re not talking to each other, forcing him to realize that he can’t keep lying to you about his feelings or pretending that nothing else is going on and still expect things to work out between you in any form.

He would probably either ask to meet up for coffee so you can talk things out or just show up at your house, depending on how brave he was feeling in the moment.

Has this whole ass speech prepared, but he doesn’t manage to get through even half of it before you’re pulling him into a kiss, effectively shutting him up for the next few minutes.

When you separate to breathe and his brain starts working again, you talk things out and admit how you both felt the whole time. It’s kinda messy and chaotic, but that’s how things have always been between you, why should this be any different?

Jimin:

I think he would take a semi-serious approach to confessing, almost in an attempt to counteract his normally aloof, flirty energy with you, sitting you down to talk about everything. His sudden shift in behavior would honestly make you kinda nervous, worried that something’s wrong.

He would definitely be slightly nervous too, even if he knew that you liked him too, since liking each other doesn’t necessarily mean that you want to be together.

Once he starts to tell you how he feels tho, it’s like he can’t stop, everything he’s been feeling pouring out until he catches sight of your teary expression. Before he can ask if you’re okay though, you tackle him, saying that you feel the same way about him before connecting your lips with his.

Not much else is said for the next little bit, finding much more, *ahem, inventive ways to express your feelings to each other.

Taehyung:

Similar to Jin, I think he would want to make some sort of elaborate romantic gesture, but it would end up just slipping out one night during a quiet moment together when he just can’t stand not being able to be close to you in the way he wants.

He would state it so simply, as if it was already obvious, trying to keep his voice calm despite the faint anxiety that began to creep through him the longer the pause between his words and your response stretches on.

When you smile and say you feel the same though, he could’ve sworn he was floating, quickly pulling you onto his lap and claiming your lips just like he’s always dreamed of.

You spend the rest of the evening tangled together, sharing kisses and talking until you drift off, at peace in your newfound home in each other's arms.

Jungkook:

Similar to Joon, I think it would happen after a fight or one of his moments of jealous possessiveness, when he realizes that no type of relationship between you, romantic or otherwise, will ever work unless he’s honest with you.

And even if he fears you might reject him(tho, he tries not to think about that), he has to get this off his chest, for both of your sakes.

Would probably just show up at your door and blurt everything out in an only partially thought-out speech that he came up with on the way over, barely giving you a chance to say anything until he runs out of breath, still talking even after you try shutting him up with a kiss.

Once he finally calms down, you’re able to talk things through more coherently, somehow still managing to surprise him when you say you want to be with him too.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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notmyneighbor · 4 months

Text

resistance | doppel francis x female reader

part 2/?

words | 5.3k

cw | explicit sexual content

ao3 link

taglist | @jazminetoad @uhnanix @fangwh0r3 @zenxvii @mistrosa

You don’t sleep much that first evening with the doppelganger in the next room.

You glare at the alarm clock and shut it off before it has a chance to sound the next morning. Might as well start getting ready for work. You enter the shower before the water has a chance to run warm, thinking maybe the shock of the cold will make you feel more alert. After that brisk cleansing you return to your bedroom, glancing down the hall on the way by, clutching your bath towel tightly around you, but you don’t hear your guest stirring yet.

You get dressed—deciding on a dress today, might as well start with the summer wardrobe now—then prod your skin as you frown at your appearance in the mirror. You’ve got bags under your eyes to match Francis’ this morning. Well, you’d just have to hope the puffiness would resolve later. Concealer will have to do for now.

The replicant seems to have had no such trouble sleeping, you discover as you enter the living room. His eyes are closed, chest rising and falling evenly in a slow, gentle rhythm, one arm draped lazily over the side of the couch, fingers brushing the floor, blanket in a rumpled mess across his midsection. You’d never guess in a million years that this slumbering person was really a doppelganger, a monster hiding inside the disguise of a man.

You begin making a quick breakfast in the kitchen, starting with the coffee maker. It isn’t long before your new roommate appears in the doorway, blinking drowsily and digging the heel of one hand against his eyes. It’s such an oddly human gesture. So…normal.

“Good morning.” You’ve finished pressing the paper filter into the machine, spooning a heap of coffee grounds inside, the water already measured and poured and the glass pot sitting on the burner. You normally only make a single cup for yourself, and you’ve no idea if the doppel will be interested, but you decide you’ll make it and offer it anyway.

“Mmmm,” he hums, dragging a hand through his mussed hair. You wonder if any of these mannerisms belong to Francis. Just exactly how much are these doppels able to replicate?

“You didn’t have to get up this early. I just have to go to work.” You point to the coffee maker. “Want a cup?”

“I guess. I’ve never had it before.”

You get another mug down from the cupboard, drumming your nails nervously on the counter while you wait. Francis’ clone is leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, watching you, and it’s making you feel self conscious. You try not to stare too much at all that bare skin he’s flashing.

At last the machine hisses and sputters and begins dripping brown liquid and the aroma of brewing coffee fills the air.

“That smells good,” he murmurs.

You fill his mug three quarters full. “I don’t know how you take it. I mean, you don’t either, obviously, if you’ve never had it before.” You add a spoonful of sugar and pour some cream in and stir, handing the mug to the doppel.

He takes a tentative sip. “Bitter,” he says. “And hot.”

“More sugar, then. You’ve got a sweet tooth, I think. And let it cool for a minute before you take another sip.”

He frowns over the term you’ve used and you elaborate. “It means you favor things that are sweet. Prefer them.”

“Mmmm.” He still looks drowsy. It’s amazing how much he sounds like his human counterpart. Francis Mosses was a man of few words. Stop comparing him to Francis. To humans. He’s neither, you remind yourself.

“Have a seat at the table. It’s just going to be cereal and toast, I’m afraid. I don’t typically cook before work.”

You watch the imposter milkman slouch into the same chair he’d used the previous evening. How strange it was to see a man occupying your kitchen like this. Well, not a man; a male, you suppose, recalling your silent reprimand from moments before. Dropping down, spreading out. He takes up room, the way only one of that gender can. Dominating. The table looks so much smaller with him sitting at it, elbows resting on the Formica table until he moves one arm to lazily scratch at some itch on his chest, the thin white shirt rumpling and shifting. Speaking of clothing…

“I’ll try to find you something else to wear this weekend. I checked the tags on your uniform already. Washed in the sink and hung up to dry in the bathroom. I know it’s not ideal, but for now…”

“Thank you.”

You fill two bowls with cereal and add milk, cutting up the last of the strawberries from the pint in the refrigerator and slotting another pair of bread slices into the toaster after the first set is finished and buttered, setting everything in front of the doppel, along with a spoon and a much sweeter cup of coffee. He takes another hesitant sip, then nods. “Better.”

“There’s leftovers in the fridge for lunch. Or you can make a sandwich.” You’re not sure if he even knows what that is. You suppose it’s a little cruel to make him eat the remains of last night’s dinner cold, but there’s no way you’re letting him use the oven.

The doppelganger eyes the red seeded fruit sliced over his cereal curiously, lifting one free and munching thoughtfully. He hums appreciatively and you add that to your mental list of things he likes. Why does it matter what he likes?

You finally join him at the table, the rest of your meal ready. “What are you going to do all day?”

“I don’t know yet. Just lay low and wait for you to return, I suppose.”

“And then what?”

He’s making short work of the cereal, you notice. Toast, too. Maybe you should offer more. Maybe he needs larger portions. Why are you being so hospitable?

“Then you teach me another recipe.”

“Alright.” You take a bite of buttered toast.

“No vegetables,” he adds.

You smile softly. “They’re good for you. Maybe we can find some you’ll like.”

“Then more cake?” He sounds hopeful.

“It’s gone, but we can bake something else. I only made a small one because I wasn’t expecting company.”

He nods, finishing the rest of his coffee.

You fiddle with the handle of your spoon, trying to think of something else to say. “Were there other doppels there with you? Inside the DDD building?”

“Not that I’m aware. I wasn’t looking, though. I just got out.”

“Did you kill the men?”

He lets his utensil drop, striking the side of the now empty ceramic bowl loudly. “What do you think?”

You lower your eyes. It had been easy to pretend, for a moment there, that he was peaceful. That this was normal. How convincing and manipulative these beings are, you think. How terrible.

“What would you have had me do? I didn’t ask to be taken.”

“I know,” you mumble, wishing you hadn’t mentioned the topic to begin with.

The remainder of breakfast continues in silence. You bring the soiled cups and dishes to the sink, glancing at the clock on the wall. Definitely time to leave for work. You’re running a bit behind, actually. You’re not used to having a second person here to wait on, doing double of everything. The doppelganger follows you to the front door.

“I’ll be home around five, if there isn’t too much paperwork. I’m not planning on staying as late as I did yesterday.”

“Imagine if you hadn’t. Then I wouldn’t be here right now. I’m sure you’re wishing now that you’d left sooner.” There’s a layer of acidity there that he doesn’t bother masking.

Your eyes meet his. “You murder humans. Eat us. How else do you expect me to react?”

“Your kind slaughters animals. Do they deserve it?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Animals are bred to be consumed, for us to survive…”

“And do they not deserve a chance to survive? Do they not have a right to exist as much as you? Don’t answer, because I can see it clearly. You think they’re of lesser value than humans. Just like the doppels.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to,” the mimic retorts bitterly.

“Listen. I don’t know how long you’re going to be hiding out here, but I’ve been trying to be kind to you, accommodate you, and it would be nice if you could return the favor.”

The replicant’s hands, curled into fists, abruptly relax. “I’ve been trying,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Try harder. I’m leaving now. Remember not to make too much noise. Don’t go outside. I can’t be held responsible for what’ll happen if you do.” You shut the door behind you with more force than necessary, realizing your hands are shaking. Infuriating, how judgmental the copycat is. As if he had any right to be, when he’s imposing on you, putting your life at risk.

You’re mad at yourself, because there were moments, last night and again this morning, where you had found yourself enjoying his company, and that admission is something you can’t bare to fully face and analyze the implications of right now.

***

Your shift passes by without a single mention of the doppelganger’s escape the previous evening.

Indeed, if you didn’t know any better, you’d never have guessed anything had happened. The guards still nod courteously as you flash your badge before entering the facility. The standard pair, no additional forces in sight. Everyone else in the office seems calm, focused on their work.

You struggle to feel the same way. There’s a fugitive doppelganger waiting for you when you get home. You can’t stop thinking about him. About your last conversation. He’d been upset. You had, too. You’re not sure if he’ll have cooled off by the time you return.

You try to ask casually in the breakroom if anything interesting had made the news, if anything new was happening at work, but no one provides the information you’re feeling around for. So the story was kept secret, then. Too risky for the DDD to admit they’d lost a captive doppel. Maybe too difficult to explain why he was there in the first place.

Why had they taken him? Why did they alter his memories? Were there other doppels here, too? Being captured and experimented on? To what end?

Your fingers stumble on the typewriter’s keys. You’ve made so many errors today. The wastebin is loaded with crumpled drafts. You find your mind wandering again, your fingers stilling completely. You don’t even hear the phone on the first ring, relying on successive attempts to finally break through your reverie.

You’re no nearer any answers to your questions by the end of your shift. You just find yourself asking more and more. Spreading and multiplying, virus-like. Replicating like the doppels.

The trip to your car is uneventful tonight. Now you’re headed back to the apartment building. To the fugitive you’re concealing.

There’s a doppelganger in your home, and you’re not nearly as upset about that fact as you should be.

***

The day drags by.

The doppelganger isn’t sure what to do once he’s showered and dressed in clothes that are still a little damp, truth be told. The television that humans seem so fascinated with holds no interest for him. He paces the hallway and tries to plan his next course of action. He’s escaped, a free agent, but he’s left without intact memories. He’s not sure if there’s any way to recover them, but if there is, the DDD is the only means to that end.

He can hardly stroll back inside to inquire. Which means possibly putting you to work, seeing what you can discover. Risky, of course. Just like you allowing him to stay here is risky.

He’d been harsh with you that morning. He doesn’t regret it, exactly; he thinks you needed to hear the words, realize the truth behind them. But he’d rather not have had you depart immediately after the argument. It makes him feel…something. He’s not sure what. You make him feel a lot of things he’s not familiar with; has no terminology, lacks definitions for.

He knows he’s been forbidden to enter your bedroom, but he feels that is meant more for when you’re present, for privacy’s sake, so he finally enters in the early afternoon, partly out of boredom, partly out of curiosity. The dresser is littered with objects. A tray full of jewelry, a decoration that baffles the mimic nearly as much as the makeup you wear. There are bottles of various perfumes that he samples, finding most of them to his liking. It reminds him strongly of you, your presence, and he wishes you were home, instead of in that wretched DDD structure.

A wooden hairbrush, the bristles stiff but soft, several threads of your hair visible between them. He watches the way the light filtering in through the windows catches on the strands, turning the handle this way and that. He knows the feel of it, having touched you however briefly the previous evening, securing the loose hair that had spilled free. Silky soft, and fragrant.

Your robe hangs on a hook over the closet door. The doppel takes a handful, lets the fabric brush his injured cheek, inhaling your scent. He knows he’ll also find it in the pillows on the bed, but he doesn’t dare disturb that neatly made furnishing, exiting the room and closing the door quietly behind him.

There is not much else that interests him in your home; little to occupy his time with. He rifles through the mirrored medicine cabinet. A razor. Something he doesn’t require, as his appearance is all an illusion. His face will never grow hair, because Francis Mosses does not have facial hair. He will never need the tousled brown mane to be trimmed, because the length it is at is exactly the same length as the milkman’s. His eyes will always appear tired, because the third floor resident he’s cloned has perpetual smudges beneath his own orbs. The doppelganger stares at his reflection, and for a brief moment, he lets the image shift slightly. The teeth sharpen and yellow, the eyes streak with burst vessels, the lids become red rimmed. You would not care for his real appearance, he is certain.

The milkman’s image is restored. He wanders back to the living room to sit on the couch, waiting for your return.

***

You unlock your apartment door and ease it open, seeing that Francis’ clone is seated on the couch. No disasters, then.

You hurriedly shut and lock the door behind you, stepping forward just as the doppelganger rises and moves toward you. Your handbag is set on the console table.

“How was your day?” The morning’s conversation is still fresh in your mind. The anger on both sides. Your tone is cautiously neutral now, trying to feel things out.

“Boring. Lonely.”

You feel a little ache in your chest at this admission. You don’t know what to say. He missed you, specifically, or just didn’t like having no one else around?

“Did anyone mention me at work?”

“No. Not a word. It was just like any other day.”

“Don’t you find that strange?”

“Yes,” you admit. “But that doesn’t necessarily prove anything.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I do. I just can’t reconcile that an organization created to protect us would be involved in some sort of devious experiments on the very creatures they’d promised to destroy. I tried to wrap my brain around it all day, and I just couldn’t make it make sense.” You pause. “You’re lonely? Do you have family, or…?”

“Not that I recall. Again, much of my memories are full of holes. This place is empty without you here.”

You swallow, processing that sentiment. So he did miss you. “I don’t want to fight with you,” you say softly.

“I don’t either.”

“Truce?” You hold out your hand and he looks at it curiously. “You shake on it. It’s an agreement. A promise, to keep things peaceful between us going forward.”

“You said never to touch you.”

“I’ll make an exception for this.” His fingers touch yours, threading between them instead of gripping them. “No, it’s meant to be…” Your voice trails off as you stare at that pairing, not drawing back, allowing yourself to be entangled with those warm, human feeling digits. You know they’re not real, and yet they feel it.

“Your heart is beating fast again.”

“I know.” You reluctantly drop your hand. “I should start dinner.”

“We,” he corrects.

“Yes. We.”

***

The doppelganger hadn’t been bragging. He is indeed a fast learner.

Already moving around the kitchen with a comfort and familiarity that’s surprising considering it’s only his second day here.

“You need to crack an egg. You hit it against the side of the bowl, but—” Too late. The doppel smashes the fragile item firmly against the rim and the shell shatters, pieces falling down into the bowl, the yolk running in a slimy trail down the side. “—Not too hard,” you finish, wincing. “It’s okay. We’ll try again. Wash your hands first. I’ll pick out the shell.”

When you’ve finished removing the slivers from the batter as best you can, you select another egg from the carton, handing it to him. “We’ll do this together so you can see how much force to apply. It’s a swift, firm stroke, but very precise, so you’re breaking it open as cleanly as possible to extract what’s inside.” Your hand covers his poised near the rim of the bowl. “Like this.” You guide his hand downward. There is a soft cracking sound, and then you maneuver his hand over the mixture. “Release, gently.” You feel his fingers shift and the jellylike yellow center drops down, the clear, sticky protein filled fluid oozing just behind. “Perfect. You’ve got it.” You smile, turning to face the doppel, and your breath hitches. He’s staring, not at the food he’s preparing with your aid, but at your face, with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Rich milk chocolate eyes, a delicate fringe of lashes on their borders. Full lips slightly parted, breath rushing past. In and out. His hand is so warm.

“You can…you can just drop that into the wastebasket.” You force yourself to release his hand and he obeys your command, the moment dissipating.

***

After dinner and dessert, you both sit on the couch. The television is playing softly in the background but neither of you is paying attention to it.

He’s staring at you again. You can feel it. You change positions and squirm, trying to relax and get comfortable, but it’s impossible. He’d slept here last night. His head cradled right where you’re sitting. Sprawled out. Growing warm during the evening, shoving the blanket down. Long limbs shifting.

You clear your throat. You have to stop thinking these thoughts. “Why don’t we play cards?”

Francis’ clone looks at you quizzically and you jump up, grateful to be kept busy for a few moments, distracting you from the copycat’s gaze as you rummage in the tv cabinet to retrieve a deck. You don’t play often, just an occasional game of Solitaire, but you think the imposter just might enjoy something like Crazy Eights.

“Come with me into the kitchen. We need a flat surface for this.”

You sit at the table and the doppel joins you, watching as you slide the deck free of its container and begin shuffling the cards, dividing the stack and then fanning the edges, then sliding them back together. “Want to try?”

He nods and you guide him through the process. He gets it right on the second attempt, his fingers deftly interweaving the cards.

“Good. Now the game we’re going to play is called Crazy Eights. The goal is to get rid of all the cards in your hand. The first person to do so wins the game. To begin with, we each get five cards.” You deal them out, continuing your instructions. “Leave them facedown for a second. The rest of the deck gets placed here. Top card flipped…okay. Three of spades. That means that if it was your turn right now, you’d need to play another card that is either the same suit, matching this symbol here, or else has the equivalent number value. If you don’t have either of those available, you must keep drawing from this pile here until you find one you can play. With me so far?” He nods. “Now the only other thing you need to know is that the cards with the number eight on them are special. If you place one down, you’re able to declare what suit you want your opponent to play next. We’ll just do a practice run so you can see how it goes, then we can play for real.”

It doesn’t take the doppel long to figure it out. He’s smart, you think. Really clever. Adaptable.

He has to be, you remind yourself silently. That’s how they survive.

You play two rounds, then switch to Rummy, then Spades, then show him Solitaire, something to keep him occupied while you’re at work. You try to conceal a few yawns and the doppel notices.

“You’re tired.”

“It’s been a long day. And I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Because of me.”

“I was nervous.”

“Are you still nervous?”

Yes, you think. But for very different reasons now. Aloud, you simply state that you are.

You place the cards back in the box and leave it on the table. It was time to get ready for bed.

***

The doppelganger makes up the couch while you take your shower.

It’s a simple task that leaves him wanting for things to do to keep him occupied while he waits. His eyes keep glancing to the hallway.

He’s thinking of how it had felt, threading his fingers through yours. Having you hold his when you’d been cooking together. He’s enjoyed this evening with you. You’re the enemy, the one he’s meant to destroy, to conquer, and yet…he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to harm you.

Francis’ clone sits and then stands again. He can’t. He simply can’t tolerate waiting here. He walks down the hall, waiting beside the bathroom door, listening for the sound of the water running, waiting for it to stop. There. Some rustling. Drying off. The sound of the lock turning, and you emerge, looking startled to find him standing right outside.

“Francis.”

He feels odd when you say that name. Partly pleased, because it means he is convincing as the true man. Perhaps a little jealous, too. He wonders if you find the original attractive. A little flare of jealousy at this. He wants to be the superior version. The preferred model.

“I’ve already made the couch up.”

“Oh. Good.” You adjust the height of the bath towel wrapped around you a little higher, concealing more of the curves of your breasts. “Well, I’m finished in the bathroom, so I guess I’ll say goodnight now then.”

“Goodnight,” he says, reluctantly stepping aside to allow you to cross the hall. The bedroom door closes. He stares at that door for a long time, imagining you preparing for bed, your body naked before…

No interest in anything of that sort, isn’t that what he’d promised you? So why is his body reacting this way? The replicant strips and enters the shower, still damp from your recent one, and each stroke of lathered hands over his skin seems a cruel tease, an unsatisfying supplement for what he really wants. He wants your hands touching him, especially…

His breath hitches as he strokes his growing erection. Here. Urging to mate. Sensitive, hot, flushed, hard. Your pleased smile when he does something correctly, the lesson learned. The lines of bone leading to your shoulders, visible even earlier, in the v neckline of the dress you’d worn. Just now, those shoulders bare.

He presses his palms against the wall of the shower, head bowed, letting the water cascade over the nape of his neck. Those lips. He covets those most of all. Those soft looking, pink wedges of flesh. Gates to the warmth and moisture within.

He leaves the shower, aching, unsatisfied. Brushes his teeth like you’d demonstrated. He doesn’t care for the mint flavor, but he does like the clean sensation in his mouth. Combs through his hair. Thinks about you brushing through yours. Those silky strands. Torment.

The mimic returns to the living room, switching off the lamp as he goes. He can find his way in the dark now. He lies down and crosses his ankles, staring up at the void, the blanket shoved at the other end of the couch by his feet. He’s only wearing the briefs. He’s too warm. He shuts his eyes and they snap back open.

You hadn’t locked your bedroom door.

***

You didn’t lock your bedroom door.

You’re thinking this after you’ve gone to bed, lying there suddenly not able to sleep, in spite of how tired you are.

You’re not even sure if leaving the door unlocked was intentional, that’s the crazy part.

Perhaps some part of your subconscious had been at work, providing opportunity, should the doppel be interested.

Be interested in what? You know. Of course you know.

You rest a hand on your chest and feel how hard your heart is pounding. He surely hears it. How can he hear it?

The sound of the doorknob turning makes you hold your breath. You close your eyes and try to keep still. Pretending to be asleep.

A slight creak as the door opens, a click as it shuts. Bare feet sinking into plush carpet. Pausing by the side of the bed. You know he’s there, even with your eyes closed.

“I know you’re awake,” he says softly. “Your heart wouldn’t be beating that fast if you were sleeping.”

“It might if I was having a nightmare.” You can’t help but try to defend yourself just a little. One last measure of resistance before surrendering to the inevitable.

“Is this a nightmare, do you think?”

“No.” You sit up, easing your legs over the side of the mattress. Pushing yourself to your feet. He’s right there. Beside you. You can feel the heat wafting from him.

Your hand reaches out blindly, finding his. Fingers tangling together in the darkness. “Touch me, Francis.”

“I’m not supposed to touch you, remember?”

“You’re not supposed to come in my room, either.”

You can picture him smiling at that, a little smirk. “You left the door unlocked.”

“It was an accident.”

“Was it?” His index finger slides along yours.

“No. It wasn’t.” You turn and his hand shifts, reaching up blindly to sink in your hair, his fingers trailing down your cheek and stroking your jaw. They define collarbone and shoulder and then curve around one breast. Down to your hip and then you take control of his hand again, guiding it beneath the waistband of your satin pajama bottoms.

You whimper, biting your lip when he first grazes your sex.

“No panties. Did you forget those, too? Another accident?” His fingers glide between your lips and you gasp.

“No. Not an accident.”

“You want this.”

“I do. I do want this, Francis. Oh…” He’s brought the dewy slick of your arousal back to your bud, drawing a circle, teasing the hardening flesh out of its hood.

His nose bumps your cheek, trying to find your mouth in the darkness. There. Your stomach somersaults as his lips crush against yours. He moans at that touch and you think it is the most sensual thing you’ve ever heard. Just absolute helpless pleasure and desire. You can taste your toothpaste as he strokes your tongue. Another stomach flip at this sensation. Your nails dig into this shoulder. He’s still massaging your clit as he explores your mouth, until it makes you quiver too much and you sink back onto the bed, reaching for him, urging him to follow.

You feel the weight of his knees pressing on the mattress, sinking down, braced on either side of you. Hands reaching beneath your top to massage your breasts as you struggle to get your pajama bottoms off, lifting your hips and scraping them down over your buttocks. Francis’ clone tries to help, still kissing you, still trying to explore your body while helping divest you of your clothes, everything made more complicated because neither of you has turned on a light. You laugh a little at the absurdity of it and he pauses midway through tossing aside the top you’ve finally removed in a joint venture, the bottoms already shed.

“What’s amusing?”

“Just…doing this in the dark. You can put the light on, you know.”

“But that would mean moving away from you,” he counters. He’s at your throat now, planting wet kisses there. “Besides, I don’t even know where it is. You shouldn’t have worn something so complicated. What you had on last night would have been much easier to remove.”

“You’re right.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He reaches for your hand, laying it on his chest and pushing down. You feel the lean torso of the imposter milkman, the slightly coarse texture from body hair between his pectoral muscles and then again leading down in a stripe to the waistband of his briefs. He keeps pushing, at a slower pace now, and you feel his prick tenting his briefs, hard and demanding, and a little damp spot of pre cum saturating the fabric.

Another moan of sound. You move back to the elastic band and help him shove the underwear down over his hips. Not much past that level, but you don’t think it matters, because you’re both too impatient now. Your legs are spread and he’s found his way between them, sliding his erection across your mound, over your sensitive nub and down to your entrance.

He begins to thrust inside and you drag in a harsh rasp of air at that feeling of being stretched, filled. The doppel leans and pushes further in, down and down until he’s fully buried inside and his mouth is back on yours, his fingers lacing through the hand you have resting limp somewhere near your face.

“Fuck,” he curses, his hips lifting slightly, cock easing out before he pushes back inside.

“Where did you learn that word?”

“Where do you think?” He nips at your ear.

“I never taught you that.”

“No. I don’t know where I heard it. But it seems appropriate. That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? Fucking,” he pants beside your ear after another several thrusts. “Mating. Breeding…”

“Francis,” you gasp, both at his words and the sensation as he pumps in and out of your pussy.

“You feel so good,” he sighs, nuzzling your cheek. “So warm, so tight, so wet…hungry for me, hmm? What a pretty thing you are, so sweet…” His voice fades as he begins pounding into you in earnest, setting a more rapid, intense rhythm. Your pelvis rolls to meet him, knees digging into his ribs. You suck his bottom lip and squeeze the hand that you’re clutching, urging him on. He tastes like salt now, perspiration mixed with soap and musk all lingering at his brow, his cheek, the side of his throat.

Everything is growing tighter inside you, coiling, pressure building. Your bodies slap wetly together and he batters that special aching spot deep inside. He breathes your name and it sounds reverent. Overwhelmed. Back to cursing, primitive and filthy and vulgar, and you drink it from his lips, whisper it back to him. There. It’s happening. Unwinding and shattering around him, becoming boneless, soft, limp as the echoes wrack your limbs, waves that drag at the cock invading you, pulling him under with you, spilling seed, breath hotly huffed above your lips, a little noise of wonder, a groan, the fingers tightening in yours, holding on to you, keeping anchored, until he finally slips free, drops next to you, wet and panting, still tethered to your hand, in the darkness.

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #that’s not my neighbor #milkman x reader #milkman x you #the milkman #tnmn francis mosses #tnmn smut #francis mosses tnmn #doppelganger francis mosses #doppel francis #francis tnmn #francis mosses smut

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aereasrage · 2 months

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Notes on The Favorite pt. 2

summary: as requested, i elaborate on the relationship between daemon, rhaenyra and alicent’s daughter!reader (but mostly rhaenyra and reader sorry😭) (links: part 1 /part 2/part 3 /part 4/ part 5/ notes 1)

cw: rhaenyra kinda preys on your mommy issues, manipulation, mentions of parent/child incest (but nothing actually occurs), platonic yandere, some…interesting undertones between these two sisters.

Rhaenyra was occupied with her own matters and her own miseries, too much so to truly be invested in the rearing of her youngest sister. She'd never spoken to the girl alone but she knew her eldest was fond of her. That was why she offered a betrothal in the first place, when she was shot down, she felt for her son but reconciled herself easily to the fact that having a relationship with her sister was simply never to be. Alicent guarded you like a hound and if not her, then Aemond. It was abundantly clear that her being around you would only be another point of contention in an already volatile family. After the night at Driftmark, she accepted that there were to be no mended fences and she, who had already been suffering the fallout for years, retreated back into minding her own children. The distance was final and irreparable.

She viewed Jace's obsession with you as a youthful infatuation which would fade with time as he realized the position they were all in. She was mistaken. Jace, at a tourney for your birthday, nearly killed himself trying to crown you Queen of Love and Beauty. And the boy didn't even have shame about it, he seemed proud when she confronted him. He was languishing in bed, bandaged and delirious, he could only grin when she spoke of you. She could not get through to him for the first time.

Daemon, in turn, went to Baela about the matter thinking that surely his daughter would have something to say about her betrothed's behavior. A wish to break from this betrothal in the face of such insult. Mayhaps, even, a wish for him to be thrown from his horse sometime. But what he found was not his daughter scorned but a steadfast image of her mother, her eyes betraying a certain thrill. "He has not insulted me, father. He is taken with another, but I have been taken before, mayhaps just as much." He hadn't known how to respond to such a revelation. Oh, the curse of having a daughter who was just like her mother. He'd never know how to be a father to her. He should have advised her then but all he could do was be somewhat…pleasantly surprised by the depth of his daughter's similarity. She had gained so many wants and nuances right under his nose and he'd not known until then. She’d developed a fervor toward something that she wished for.

So, they left it be and watched with a precognition of doom when you married Aegon, your mother having to hold your hand as you said your vows. She waltzed you away from the feast and Daemon noticed that you were nodding on your feet from one cup of wine but thought little of it until the queen did not return to the event to continue entertaining congratulations. Jace was sullen and Rhaenyra was in his ear, trying to cheer him, not having noticed the state you were in. Later, the two would compare what they’d seen and heard. Daemon would crassly, half jokingly suggest something between you and Alicent. Rhaenyra would propose that her son might have already had you and your mother, though remaining silent, sought irrefutable proof of your duty to Aegon so as to be certain of the cleanliness of all their reputations. Though, that never accounted for why she didn’t wed her eldest daughter to her eldest son. It was distasteful for you to be wed to him, Rhaenyra thought and it made something in her feel uneasy.

And when the first dark haired child was born, there was no surprise in it happening (mayhaps there was actually even a bit of relief) but rather how casually it was handled. Daemon and Rhaenyra surely had eyes just as well as Alicent but there seemed to be no commotion about the fact that her grandchild was surely sired by Jace. Rhaenyra didn’t have any desire to stir trouble but Daemon surely did and he made jokes whenever the family was gathered in one place. “My grandnephew bears such a resemblance to my other grandnephew, it seems my brother’s blood runs strongly,” he’d said smugly to Alicent as he came upon the three of you in the garden. He couldn’t help himself, the jokes were not toothless but he wasn’t serious about brooking any trouble. He even found you worthy of some credit given how firmly you seemed to have planted everyone’s heads up your arse.

The couple found it eerie how your mother was always hovering over you, Daemon would have liked to know how you got out from under her long enough to fuck his stepson. Rhaenyra had heard she’d even been in your chambers during your first night with Aegon. And it seemed her madness translated to the rest of the family. The image of piety all day long, your siblings always calling after you, always wrapped up in you so much so that they seemed not to even realize how their nephews and niece so resembled a certain prince outside of them. Not even your lord husband seemed to care or notice that all your children took after Jace, it was peculiar. The oddest part about it was that it felt sincere for most of them, when Alicent had told her that the children looked the way they did because of whatever nonsense she spouted, Rhaenyra truly thought she seemed as though she believed it herself. That was what frustrated and baffled her more than anything. She loved the girl so much she’d even gone blind.

In a way, it was perhaps a good thing for her cause that all Aegon’s heirs were sired by her son, although it made clear an upsetting double standard. If you’d been so endeared by her son, to some degree, you’d have no choice but to have sympathy to their cause. They could make something of that. And perhaps both of them would find out why their children were so enamored with you.

When she was finally able to separate you from Jace, she had you in her chambers, staring at you like a hawk, circling around your form. She didn’t intend to give you hell or be a nightmare of a goodmother but it was life and death, she wanted to know who you would be loyal to. If she’d have to keep you as a prisoner or a sister. You didn’t shrink under her gaze yet. You were always somewhat intrigued by your big sister. Such attention was paid her, such fuss. Her arrival in each room was like an event unto itself. Whispers carried on the wind about her. Your mother talked about her all the time. Maybe it was part of the reason you had your children the way you did, to pull some of your family’s focus back to yourself. She was your mother more than she was Rhaenyra’s enemy, after all. You envied Rhaenyra, you admired her. You were kin to her and so unlike her at the same time.

“I have always wondered how your mother had the audacity to ignore how much your children resemble mine,” She murmured, her eyes wide, pupils dilated and dark as she stared at you. She remembered also how her own children had been treated and that brought a flare of anger she was quick to quell. “They say the red keep is in a frenzy because of your absence. Do you long to return?”

Yes…and no. It was complicated. “I long to stay wherever we are safest.”

She smiled to herself, mirthlessly. “You would be safest a year in the past. Answer me this…you wear our colors, you have had my son’s children, but would you put an oath to me? Over your lord husband? Do you have that much love of my son if not of me?”

She startled you by taking your hands in her own, you hadn’t been anticipating her to touch you. You had never been so close to her, now that you thought of it. It felt like a domineering gesture, as though asserting that she could do anything to you. “I expect that I won’t have to keep you here as a hostage,” she murmured, catching your gaze. “Am I right in assuming?”

“I do love your son…” you hesitated, trying to think of some sly thing to say. You were trying to ride the fence as long as you could and she had cut through to ask you directly your position. She was full of hateful memories of the red keep when she looked at you, barely contained and her patience worn very thin. She had in her hands a potential tool and she wanted to be certain of what using it would entail. You didn’t know her well enough to be certain she wouldn’t harm you if she didn’t have the heart to hurt your children, you needed to tread lightly. “As I love the rest of my family.”

“Does your husband know his children don’t carry a drop of his blood?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” you admitted easily, it had been nothing to lie to Aegon. He was happier for it and what did it matter when it was you he loved and wanted rather than babes who need care they cannot return to him? “I’m not faithful to my husband in that way, I admit. And if this war comes to have his head, then I can only pray for him. It is his war to fight and win or to fight and lose. But I ask that you spare my mother and sister their fates, then you will have all my loyalty rather.”

Rhaenyra deliberated for a moment, letting go of your hands abruptly and stepping away from you a few paces as her eyes surveyed you closely from top to bottom. “If I have my way, they’ll not need to be harmed,” she said, finally. “There will be more bloodshed if you seek to betray me than if you do nothing. I can promise it.”

You, the very jewel that the rest of her family sought to keep away from her, in her grasp finally and looking at her as though she were about to eat you. She hadn’t known she wanted this but somewhere deep inside, now that she had you alone, she felt a certain modicum of satisfaction. You were…delicate, frightened, perhaps more willing to obey than she’d thought previously. A conquering desire overtook her caution and anger. Pull you away from your mother and your other siblings…what could she turn you into? Her own? …yes, mayhaps the endeavor of it would please her.

She hovered ever closer and reached out, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers. She’d wanted to see how you’d react to a softer touch, a more intimate, motherly gesture. She’d wanted to know how to felt to do so as well. Your breath hitched at the semblance of touch which reminded you so much of your mother. You hadn’t meant to lean into it but it was reflex and a need for a mother who was not there with you. More disconcerting was the fact that your sister smiled softly at your reaction. “Give me your word and I’ll give you mine,” she commanded but in a softer tone she reserved for her own children.

She had you in her grasp. She was beginning to understand why your mother had held so fast to you. You nodded, struck dumb by intimidation and mild admiration, “I swear I would never betray you. On their lives.”

She smiled softly and you couldn’t keep yourself from feeling a strange sort of pride at her approval. She was to you what you were to your lady in waiting at the red keep, the one who adored your every movement simply because you were the princess and she couldn’t believe she was in your presence, at King’s Landing. This was your illustrious elder sister and to be near her…was it the fact that your father favored her so much that made you feel as though her presence were greater than it was? Was it all the whispers? Either way, you had a latent desire for her smile, for her to look at you and speak to you.

“No undue harm will come to Alicent or Helaena, I will not harm them so long as they stay only as figures of this war.” Her words were careful, sly, even but even that much assurance made you sigh in relief. “You’ll stay with me, with us, until the war has reached an end.”

She liked that idea more than she should. Liked the thought of her half-sister, apple of her stepmother’s eye trailing her skirts more than she should. She enjoyed the thought of having you.

#hotd x reader #alicent hightower x reader #platonic yandere x reader #jacaerys x reader #rhaenyra x reader

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