#/* Going with the second one because... yeah */

[tonycries]

BUMPIN' THAT!

Synopsis. Handle with care? More like manhandIe - he likes it rough.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, manhandIing, STRONG boys, breaking beds, chokíng, matíng presses, BREÉDING, creampíes, overstím, oraI (fem rec), pússydrúnk men, GOJO’S POWERS, true form Sukuna, dp, SUKUNA’S MOUTHS, cúmplay, innaprópriate use of jujutsu, exhibítionísm (Geto), pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 6.1k

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - TIMBERRR

“Tch, this- damn- bed- can’t even hear my pretty girl.” Toji gruffs out - fuming. Thick fingers gliding down your shifty thighs to spread them into a full nelson so wide. So loud. “Ohh- c’mon now, ma. J-jus’ one more- you wanna make hah- Megs a big brother, right?”

This was what had your husband so relentless for hours now. 

This single dream of you all around and glowing because of him was enough to have him puff out a heady pant of laughter into the crook of your neck. Laughter - he was gone. 

“B-but the bed can’t hck! take anymore, Toji.” 

And Toji doesn’t care - doesn’t give a single shit about the way the poor bed frame rickets with a symphony of creaks after every slow gyration. But you do, apparently.

With a pointed scoff, his big beefy arms circle around your squirming waist to trap you to his hulky body. Branding the curve of his fat head into your clingy walls so hard that it makes you see stars-

CRACK!

“Heh, whoops…guess the bed isn’t a problem anymore, doll.”

Now, usually Toji Fushiguro was one to keep his inhuman strength in check. Usually, he didn’t go overboard. 

Usually. 

But oh he couldn’t bring it in himself to feel even an ounce of regret when you gasp. Whirling your drunken eyes around to meet his sleazy grin - he knew what he was doing. 

Pecking a trailway of innocent kisses down your thoroughly tear-glossed cheeks, Toji licks a languid line up the salty taste. And he’s still not stopping. Hell, he’s not even slowing down - could barely even imagine it.

Because Toji Fushiguro is out of control. Feral. Jostling his hips upwards into yours to rummage around your stretchy walls. His thick shaft spreads your gummy channel open oh-so-perfectly to nudge up against your hidden sweet spots, rotund cockhead shooting out wet sloshes of precum.

“Y-you did that on purpose.” you moan.

“Hmm, did I?” he takes a few seconds to mockingly ponder, dark brows knitting across his sweat-sheened forehead in concern. Before grinning, “Yeah- heh, yeah I did-” Barely even giving you the time to snap back before he’s forcing his relentless, fatigued limbs standing upright. Dragging you in midair right along with him - held up so pliantly like some ragdoll in a full nelson hooked underneath your dangling legs. “-but I don’t hear hngh- her complainin’.”

God, if anything it was the opposite.

Because your sloppy cunt was talking for you. Wrenching out the most obscenely syrupy squelches that make Toji’s mouth water. 

Dragging his tongue down his lips and toying with the edge of his scar in a way he wishes he could with your slobbery pussy. “L-look at that. She’s m-more than happy to be all filled up- she’s practically hngh- begging for one more. Isn’t she?”

And you could hear the way that Toji’s deep baritone cracks at the very end. It didn’t even sound like him - unsteady and hot. Begging.

Muscles flexing when he bounces you up and down- You didn’t even know if he was in control of his heavenly restriction at this point.

Bulging biceps bruise into your tender skin when he’s slamming you bent over all prettily onto the cool mahogany surface of your desk. One leg hiking upwards, the other kneeing open your boneless thighs wider. Pound after heavy pound that rattles the furniture against the wall. 

“This won’t do-” he groans, circling the very ends of his fingers around your stretched hole. Stuffing back those creamy dredges of remnants from his cum from just before, “-told ya to t-take it not waste it.”

He’s so mean. Gifting the curve of your pussymound with a sharp swat! that leaves syrupy splatters of seed glossing all down Toji’s palm. His wrist. All for him to dart out a tongue down the filthy mess, before plugging back into your overspilling pussy. 

“M-maybe you should just- ah-” You struggle uselessly in his hold, your bumbling mess of babbles so sweet in his ears that it makes his sensitive cock twitch. “-fill me up all over a-again, baby-”

Oh.

Oh.

Now, he knew you were thoroughly drunken on his cock, but he didn’t think you were already this fucked stupid. Fuck twitching - Toji thinks he could cum right then and there. 

“Ah f-fuck- s’that what my pretty mama wants, hm?” Uncharacteristically gently, he’s swiping away a few stray plaster pieces that had fallen their way down from the wall. “Wan’ me to fill this c-cute cunt ‘ntil she heh- can’t fit anymore, huh?” Bruising now. His hip bones on your ass, fingers around your hips, twitchy balls so heavy and smacking away against your drooling pussy. Veiny knuckles of his clasp around the edge of the desk to fuck you like he hates you. Out of control. “To f-fuck her until she- haah- makes me a daddy a-all over again?”

“Yes!” you’re nodding half-lucidly. Shaky fingers clawing their way over the expensive desk, those office documents you really should’ve been working on, allll the way around to drag red, red lines down Toji’s throat. “Need it- hngh- n-need more Toji so badly-”

And he gulps, eyes glassing over with fucking tears at the sting. So good. Hissing, “F-filthy girl.” Two of his fat fingers dance their groping way down to your plump clit and pinches, “Then ya better take it- all-”

You see white-hot electricity pass by yours eyes when you cum - or maybe that was the way that Toji fucks up his orgasm into you like an animal. 

Feral.

Wave after wave of thick seed being milked so thoroughly by your gripping walls. It makes him slump every muscle of his towering body drained, he’s falling onto two pathetic elbows to crush you underneath his bodyweight. 

There’s so much of him. And Toji only has to blink. He only has to crack his dewy eyes open a mere millimeter, one sneaking glance downwards at your gaping cunt before-

THUD!

“Oh, mama—” he gasps - and you do, too. But not for the same reason as Toji, no, because you’re just now noticing that your desk was sagging suspiciously low. 

You don’t get to ask since when, because in a split-second, you’re being wrangled onto all fours on the floor. 

Still not done. Still not pulling out. Still not slowing down a singular second, Toji rests one of his feet on top of your head. Hard. “Can’t break the f-floor now…can we?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Evil twin?!

“Y-you want me to what?” Nanami’s husky baritone quakes - trembling at your little request. Jittery fingers sensually smack! smack! smacking his sodden tip down onto your sweet sopping pussy lips. Filthy. “Be rough? Are you sure, my love?”

“Of course, Ken. I trust you–” you’re batting your lashes up at your half-delirious husband in a way that makes his lower lip wobble. “It’ll be a good way to de-stress, dontcha think?”

Is he in heaven?

Nanami curls his fingers around that velvety yellow tie he didn’t even bother removing after his overtime.

And he’s so soft when he’s kissing away the pearly beads of sweat on your forehead, dragging his plump lips down, down, down to press pretty peck after peck on your lips. Hushly whispering, “B-but the kids are just down the hall- we don’t ah- don’t want them to wake up…”

You only grin, “Then you better make sure I stay quiet, hm?”

And that string of slurring words makes Nanami pant, it makes his glassy hazel eyes widen almost comically- and, truly, you’d almost forgotten just what your powerful husband was capable of. 

Just how ruthless. 

Because it doesn’t take even a split-second for him to flip you onto all fours. You yelp when that tie of his finds its way to tie your wrists together. All but ripping your silky nightgown, and you…moan.

Oh? He jostles two thumbs to smear your soaking folds open and smiles. How cute.

“S’fuckin’ drenched-” Nanami hisses. Strained. In awe. Peaking in one syrupily coated finger into his mouth and moaning. And you just gasp when you’re being gifted with a bruising smack! right around the rim of your entrance, slobbering out a fresh wave of sweet, sweet slick. “-s’this all f’me, darling?”

“Y-yes-”

Swat!

“Ah ah- none of that. Big girls don’t stutter.”

All you can do is whirl your eyes back over your shoulder because who is this? 

But what you’re met with is the utterly sexy display of your ruined husband - strands of his blond hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed, eyes wild. Heaving. Like something primal was just awoken…

Clutching onto the wrinkled sheets, you mewl, “Yes- s’all for you, Kento–”

Shit. You watch as his rosy lips sag open into an oh! before craning downwards to spit a silky rivulet of saliva right into your glistening pussy. 

And even after so many years, even after having kids, you’d still never gotten used to the way Nanami’s girth would split you apart so sinfully. How massive he was. Barging between your pursed lips to feed you inch after hefty inch of his girth, they’re dragging out the most sinful squelches from down below. And from your mouth-

“Shh sh sh-” He’s covering your slack maw shut with all five long fingers, and you keen at the cool contrast of Nanami’s wedding ring. “Quietly- love- quiet. You can do it- ah- y-you can take my fuckin’ cock, m’kay?”

Nanami’s words were every bit of gentleness that his hips weren’t. 

Fucking into you in languid, deep strokes to swipe a steamy wave of precum down your sweetest spots. It was too much-

“W-where do you think you’re going, my love?” 

Fuck.

You didn’t even realize the way that your helpless fingers were closing in around the headboard, gyrating your hips away from the thoroughly mean crashes of your husband’s cock. Blinking away the big, bulbous tears in your eyes, you muffle out a whiny, “S-sorry Ken-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” Without warning, five harsh fingers wrap around your tender throat in a vice-like necklace - hauling your limp body up against his front. “If you’re really s-sorry, darling, wontcha be a good girl n’ open that mouth f’me?”

Usually, your husband was the absolute sweetest. Mumbling out sweet praises into your ear and helping you take your time to milk him whole. 

But right now Nanami was impatient. 

He was out of control - like a completely different person.

Treating you like some ragdoll when he’s tugging down your mouth open with a few calloused pads of his fingers. Leering his handsome face closer to spit. 

Missing halfway - on purpose.

Nanami chuckles when he’s lolling his pinkish tongue out to swipe at the translucent splatters. Pinning you to his cushiony pecs with that rough restraint, he’s slanting a syrupy sweet kiss at the corner of your mouth. “Good- fuckin’- girl-”

And the bed creaks. The bed protests - headboard rickety when Nanami slams! one veined arm down and rams everything he has to give - seconds away from shattering, both him and the bedframe. Everything. 

Shit-

Shit shit shi- he swears you just got wetter.

Nanami gapes, powerful hips thrusting and thrusting until your ass scratches up against that golden happy trail running through the middle of his abs. Weepy, rotund head probing against your spongy cervix and just the slight recoil that had him parting stickily from it makes him almost sob. 

“There we go- thereee we go-” Nanami rattles out, hollowed. Every squeeze of your clingy walls around his throbbing shaft was so cozy, fucking you into the mattress until his skin reddened. “-there we fuckin’ go- s’what you hngh- wanted, right? Wanted to be fucked like such a slut?”

“Please-” you’re hiccuping, now fully bent into such an obscene curve and wrangling uselessly. “-yes-  yes yes yes feel s’good-”

You’re drooling now, lips falling further and further open with every French kiss Nanami was placing on your bruised and battered g-spot. Dangerously so.

Dangerously loud.

With a proud chuckle, he’s slapping another dripping wet swat on your plump clit - glissading your presoaked slit. Before bullying between your soft lips to swirl his fat digits around your tongue. Deep. Forcing you to taste yourself. 

His gruff moan is dark. Promising. “Told ya to be quiet. The kids are asleep n’ we don’t n-need them to know they’re gonna be ngh- b-big siblings, yet. Right, my love?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - An example…

Now, to Geto Suguru, sex was an art. Sex was the time he could toy with your pretty pussy until you were crying for more, more, more-

So- why is he here - strong limbs jostling your own into such a painful mating press, swollen cockhead battering and bruising away at your bulging g-spot with each pound. Furious. 

All in front of his association, to boot.

Because, Geto Suguru was angry. 

“Ngh- please Suguru- more-”

“What was that?” he’s leering down, lips curled into such a feral grin that was splashed across his pretty features. And you couldn’t answer even if you wanted to, because he’s forcing your knees down to push against your bouncing tits. Folding you utterly in half, he turns to your audience. “Do you think she ah- deserves to speak?”

Through your lusty haze, you don’t get to see the answers. But Geto spits out a husking, “Speak.”

The entire room jolts at his eerie sweet voice - dangerous. Roughened around the edges in a tone he’d never used on you before. 

Batting away a few glistening tears on your lashes, you mumble, “M-m’sorry for ah- costing us the m-mission-”

“Shut up.” And he’s planting a smack onto the sensitive spot on your plump clit so hard that you’re seeing stars - suns, even. Slowing down his mean cadence to carve down every gooey sensitive spot inside you with his throbbing veins. Every rasping word of his was hoarse, punctuated with a thorough clash against the very bottom of your pussy. Pushing your legs up so tight you hear your joints pop! “Do you hngh- know how much I- we trusted you, gorgeous?”

Your nails leave raking red lines down his flexing back, and the way his muscles shifted underneath your touch was drool-worthy. “I-I know- m’sorry-”

“All because ya got a little distracted by the fuck- strongest-” 

And, truly, Geto admits that perhaps he was there to watch you carry out your little spy mission. He admits that the sight of you batting your lashes at a certain sorcerer had him clenching his teeth harder than necessary. Fuming. 

Because you were his. 

It has him looming over the delicate crook of your neck, so up close and personal that every heated pant feels condensed. And he can’t think - can’t do anything but sink his teeth down hard into your skin. Enough to draw blood-

“Fuck! Sugu-” you cry out. “It w-won’t happen again, I promise-”

“Heh, you sure?” Geto grins, but he can’t hide the way the pale column of his neck falls to swipe his inky black hair out of his face. Crushing you like a lawnchair in half, he’s twisting his strong forearm to block your heaving airway. “What do we think? Is our lovely hngh- second-in-command sorry?”

It takes you a few seconds to register he’s not even talking to you, and even more to register the soft, murmuring answers.

You don’t have the right state to even try and understand them right now - but luckily for you, Geto snarls his way into a clash of teeth and lips with yours. Tugging hard on your glossed lower lip, “Better not fuckin’ mess up again.”

Oh, he was still fucking you so furiously. 

Wrestling your pathetically droopy legs further and further up his sculpted deltoids, you’re sure that the tatami mat below would be patterned on your back already. One hand of his cranes behind his neck to pin your ankles together. And Geto-

Shit, Geto was letting his jaw hang slack - drooling. Eyes locked on you and you only.

Whispering, “You’re mine.” The headlock only growing tighter. Dangerous. You didn’t know whether it was from the lack of air or from his ruthless rummages at your mushy walls but it had you so lightheaded. He slides a thumb down your soaking wet slit and presses onto the button of your clit. Hard. “Y-you’re mine here-” Then up, up, up to about halfway down your stomach, splaying out to feel for the lewd nudge of his fat, burning hot head thump! thump! thumping against the insides of your pussy. Inflating you from the inside out. “-and you’re mine here-” Before finally - finally - pressing a saturated kiss onto your lips, as he usually would. “-and here.”

Your leader looked utterly ruined. 

And it’s not long - not long at all - before his sloppy strokes get almost painfully filthy. Before he feels stars burst behind his firmly scrunched shut lids, and his thwacking balls clench. Building and building-

“Open that mouth- fuck! Open it-” Geto hiccups out, plump lower lip trembling at the sheer need. And the very moment your lips are opening just wide enough - he’s pulling out. Your disappointed whine falling on deaf ears when Geto drags himself up to straddle your pretty face with his thick, muscular thighs. And he cums. “Take it- hngh- you’ll fuckin’ take it alll up- wontcha?”

Creamy ribbons of his seed splat their way right onto the middle of your tastebuds and it makes Geto huff out a drunken bout of laughter at the mess he’s making. Thick fingers flying up and down to milk out every pearly ounce of his cum onto your face. 

Heh, it’s not a bad punishment - he’s musing.

Guiding to swipe the curve of his reddened tip along your trembly lips like a little lipstick. You look so much like his that he can’t help but cum- again. And again. And again and again and-

“Sh-shit look what ya do to me-” Geto moans, and you swear it cracks into a whine at the very end. “I can’t- oh fuck- can’t stop.”

He wouldn’t stop - he couldn’t.

Greedy gaze locked on you, one massive palm slams! somewhere above your head to hunch his toned body over. Geto’s entire body wracks violently above you with each shuddering wave. Filthy. “Can’t be a-anyone- can’t be anyone else. B-because…you’re mine, right?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Candy Crush

Oh…if heaven exists then it would be right here, right now - with Choso desperately stuffing himself into your thinly-clothed cunt for the first time ever. Breathing- no, gulping in deep heavals of your essence in a way that makes his dewy eyes roll back. 

“B-baby- my pretty baby…are you sure?” he’s gasping out in feverishly hot puffs of condensation. And despite the tiny tremor of uncertainty in his voice, he’s spreading your thighs even further open all for him.

You huff out a drunken giggle, tugging impatiently at one of his sweat-dampened locks. “M’sure, Cho- really need you.”

“Oh, d-don’t say that-” he’s hiccuping, coral pink lips wobbling. And you feel the back of Choso’s thumb swipe down the puffy mound of your soaked pussy, smearing down a wet coating all over his slender digits. “I-I can’t when you say things like that- oh-”

Anything and everything that Choso was babbling is thrown out of the window with just one darting lick at the sloppy dredges of your sweet, sweet slick on his fingers. With an electric-like jolt, he’s popping it into his mouth to suck. That syrupy taste enough to have him bucking his achy erection down hard into the plush mattress. 

To have him gape, “B-baby…”

And before you know it, he’s dragging you halfway down the mattress like a toy to roughly attach his lips with your own swollen ones - too hasty, too depraved to even think of pulling aside your sticky panties. Strong forearms pinning your squirming thighs so hard to the bed that you half-wonder whether it would bruise. His heated tongue darts through and around that sliver of fabric - tasting it.

“Y-you’re ngh! liking this, baby?” you coo, threading your fingers through his strands in a useless attempt to get an answer - but Choso barely budges. Biceps flexing when he cushions you to his body even tigher. “How are you f-feeling?”

It takes him a few seconds to even hear your words - too wrapped up tonguing away your absolutely ruined panties to swirl a sensual circle around your saturated clit. Groaning gingerly, “It feels- ngh- feels like I could cum from j-jus’ this.”

And he was being so honest that it made Choso blush - a bright crimson flush that started from his hollow cheeks and all the way down to his bawling, reddish head. Hips rutting over and over into the silken sheets, but he couldn’t spare a hand to fuck into it right now.

None at all - because Choso needed to have you cum all over his face before he did himself. 

So you gasp when he drags his tongue away with a final, spit-slicked smooch right on your puffy clit. Whimpering out a soft, “R-ride my face, baby–”

That nod of yours is just barely done halfway through, just barely moving your head affirmative before with a sudden nudge of his soft, mountainous palms on your hips - you’re straddling Choso’s pretty face. And he’s not letting you hover - no, the complete opposite, in fact.

You’re being manhandled with a rough hand around your waist to drag your full weight onto Choso’s greedy mouth. Puckering up to plunge his tongue into your sloppy entrance, swirling around a wet circle at your rim before fucking into you.

Pure animal instinct - he’s so messy.

Muffling out a throaty, “S-so sweet- fuck- like candy. S-s’this right? Does this feel good- ah-” Those half-lidded eyes of his are immediately latching onto the way a few of your trembly fingers were dancing their way down to your neglected clit. 

Your boyfriend - your sweet, gentle boyfriend - is swatting away that hand rudely. Brows furrowing together into a plea when he rolls his free thumb over your plump clit. Toying. 

“Nuh uh- m’sorry, baby- m’sorry but-” Eyes blazing. “-s’all for me.” 

He’s so chin-deep into your cunt that every word comes out lewdly garbled, poking the upper half of his face over to suck on one of your sensitive pussy lips and bites. Choso’s dragging his face wherever you’d let him and it was hypnotic. “H-have the biggest fuckin’ c-crush on you, y’know?”

You didn’t know if he even realized what he was saying right now.

“Y-you do?” you’re tittering, core aching with the quick, dribbling gyrations of your hips down onto his face. But it wasn’t enough - it might never be enough and he was constantly leaving a light swat on your ass to make you use him. Faster. 

“Mhmm–” Choso nods and nods and nods and he’s plunging his hot and heavy tongue into your gummy walls. “-the biggest c-crush. I really wanna hngh! make you my- ngh- my lover…my wife.”

“Choso…” you hum, voice sending blood pumping to his beautifully flushed face all over again. And he finds it in himself to bite into your clit and suck. Shit. “-I am your lover.”

“R-really?” In awe.

You don’t know who’s cumming first - you or Choso. 

Because only with a few more syrupy slurps of his tongue on your throbbing cunt, you’re gushing all your juices down the lower half of his face. Forming an obscenely wet mask all down his dripping chin, his nose, all the way up to his cheekbones. 

And oh Choso loves it. 

Choso can’t get enough.

He can’t help but gulp and gulp down every one of your pearly splatters as he fucks you through your high. Over and over-.

That is, until-

“N-noo-” Choso’s whimpering, hands bruising where they’re immediately digging into your waist to halt you to a stop. And his bulging biceps flex in such a mouth-watering way when he’s easily plopping your entire body weight down onto his lap easily - onto his urgently twitching cock. Nudging apart your puffy pussy folds to slide just his fattened tip into the snug channel of your cunt before- “N-need to cum inside. Please- ngh! Need to.”

And Choso’s cumming just from tasting your pretty pussy. 

Shooting out thick waves of his seed, your clingy walls are gripping so tightly around his bolting cock that it makes him sob. It makes him attach his fingers bruisingly onto your waist as he ruts his hips up mindlessly. 

“C-can I taste it again, baby…” He’s gulping at the oozes of cum that overspills a glossy coat down his shaft in the perfect creampie. “-w-wanna see if it tastes sweeter now.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - “Both…”

“I should fuck ya stupid-” Sukuna utters, followed by a rough sinking of his teeth into your earlobe. And it takes everything in him to keep out the tiny cracking of his rumbling baritone, to try and not fucking stutter like some weakling. “-th-then maybe ya wouldn’t be able to hah- talk outta that slutty pussy, brat.”

You’re huffing in indignation, biting your own set of teeth into the tattooed skin of the king’s shoulder. Barely even a kitten nip to him. “I-I’m serious, Kuna- I wanna take b-”

SLAM!

His curled first comes down hard onto the decadent armrest on his royal throne. Anything - everything - that’s keeping his composure right now. 

Sukuna spits out a heated, “Don’t you dare s-say it-”

You roll your eyes, jostling your hips a little too sensually when you lean up to his toweringly inhuman figure. All the way up to whisper smugly in his ear, “-both.”

It’s silence, at first.

And you’re not even sure that Sukuna heard you at first - that special word just about on the tip of your tongue once more - before, wordlessly, he picking you up with two of his big, beefy arms. Fully. Remaining two curling around the thick hilts of his matchingly hard cocks to guide them all the way to your tearful slit. 

“Well then…” Sukuna’s dark snicker snaps you out of your reverent awe, because his fat, rotund tips were so swollen. The sheer circumference staggering that you had no idea how they were going to fit. “-better take it all then, woman.”

It feels like you’re being split-apart, Sukuna’s barely even bullying his twin heads to spearhead open your sopping cunt and you swear you already feel him poking around at your womb. He’s so ruthless. Not hesitating for even a second before pumping your walls stock full of his thickened inches. Over and over-

“Well?” he’s manspreading his muscular thighs in a way that makes you bounce precariously. All four arms crossing while he bears you with a sleazy grin you know doesn’t bode well. “Was heh- whinin’ and crying until you got it. Take it, then.”

Oh, he was so mean.

But you weren’t one to back down so easily, either. 

“F-fine-” you huff, hands steadying on his flexing shoulders when you’re gyrating your hips downwards. Gulping up his long, hefty inches that rub against all your sweet spots without even trying. “Shit- y-you’re in so deep, Kuna-”

And this makes Sukuna stiffen, it makes his massive cocks swell even girthier with a sudden rush of blood likely all the way from his brain. Leaving him throughly pussydrunken but in denial. Smack! You feel his sharp nails sting against your ass. “D-don’t think those ngh- filthy words of yours are gonna work this time, lil’ human.”

“M’jus’ saying-” you whine. Splaying a hand down to the nudging divot forming at your stomach, and you’re pressing down hard to thumb over the ruthless curve of his rummaging tips. “-can already feel you right h-here n’ you’re not even halfway- mmpf-”

Sukuna has to make you shut up.

He needs to.

And his first way of going about it is to cover your mouth with one of his monstrous hands, manifesting that second mouth of his from his stomach to smear across his palm. Into a wet, sinful French kiss. 

And his second? Well…

“God- y-you don’t even know what you-” he shudders out, two hands possessively forming a vice-like grip onto your waist. Body wracking with heaves when your clingy walls mesh and mold around his rock-hard cocks. “-what you do to me.”

You squeal - or, at least, you think you do. It’s muffled into your filthy, filthy kiss with Sukuna’s other mouth when he’s slamming your hips down riotously into his.

There’s no warning. No start signal - nothing before all of a sudden the king of curses is bucking your hips down, down, down into his over and over. Like some toy. The stretch is so dizzying that you can feel your maw slack open, drool trailing its delirious pathway down the side of your lips - with his excess mouth happily slurping it all up.

You honestly feel like you’re being ruined. 

Pulled to and fro anywhere and everywhere.

“Heh, too much?” Sukuna has the audacity to giggle - giggle. Low and husky in a hot pant against your ear. 

Yet, of course, the king never apologizes - well, to anyone except you. But for now he’s only stringing his hand away from your mouth, snapping away delicate ropes of saliva from the both of you. Instead, replacing it with another hand attached right onto your plump clit - and with it, his second mouth.

“Oh- shit shit shit-” you jolt. The dual- no, triple stimulation of his cocks kissing swooping glides of precum down your spongy cervix all the way to your g-spot and his mouth sucking on your sensitive nub was too much. Toying with you. “I-I didn’t know you could- ngh- could do- that-”

And Sukuna laughs, only grinding his palm up in a sopping wet smear against your stuffed pussymound to lap up each splatter of your sweet, sweet juices. Dredged out every time his hefty, cum-filled balls slam into your cunt.

“Special treatment fer taking ngh- both of me.” he’s grunting. The third of his beefy arms smush your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, overgrown digits so large that he’s squeezing into your airway. “Does the queen h-have any more requests, hm?”

You can only shake your head no - anything more and you had a feeling that you just might not be making it out in one piece. That is, if you do this time. 

“Good.” And Sukuna only smiles. Three of his arms slithering their way around your trembly body - the fourth taking its sweet, sweet time to dive into your clit and bite. Lightly. You’re giving up practically every ounce of control to him. “Now, jus’ relax n’ let your husband take over.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Stronger.

“I-I can take it-”

“Toru…”

“Promise- ngh- promise I can take it, s-sweetheart. Heh, it’s you that has to be worried.”

You had absolutely zero idea how an impromptu sparring session with Gojo Satoru - the strongest, longtime rival and absolute pain in your ass - ended up like this. With you flat on your back and splayed out across his navy bedsheets in such a tight mating press, with him running on complete fumes and his revered cursed technique to drag out his- sixth orgasm of the night. 

But you weren’t complaining.

And neither was Gojo - in fact, mumbling out a slurring slew of profanities into your open mouth. Followed by the most broken “I’m w-winning this bet-”

“No-” you’re spitting hot-headedly with a merciless little bite on his pouty lower lip, and it’s so pretty the way his lips grow as rawly rosy as the rest of his blushing cheeks. Leveraging your years and years of practice to flip the two of you over, “I-I’m winning.”

Neither of you could even remember what the bet was about. 

Something about who’d admit defeat? Ah, Gojo doesn’t give a shit - not even your puffy pussy lips were sliding down his overstimulated cock. Sheathing him in a freshly drenched coating of your honeyed slick when you straddle his slender hips and ride.

“Heheh- y-you think this is- oh!” His hands wrangle around your waist urgently in such a bruising grip to slow down your sloppy cadence. And he’s using his powerful arms to completely drag your drooling cunt in languid, lazy bounces up and down up and down up and- bruising. “-this isn’t going to m-make me-”

But he already was.

Oh, he already was with every clingy kiss of your gummy walls around his steadily swelling cock, every syrupy slosh of cum that made his heavy balls clench. And it’s only a matter of time before his thoroughly overwhelmed cock bursts out once more. 

Gojo’s letting his head loll drunkenly against the sweat-dampened pillows - shit, everything was such a mess. From the creamy puddle of cum sobbing from your sopping wet slit, to the way your fatigued bodies were so furiously glissading across one another. 

“Make you what?” you bat your lashes down at him in a way that should be infuriating, but it only makes his reddish tip twitch into your g-spot. “Admit it- ngh- a-admit defeat, Toru–”

But that’s the last thing he would do. 

There’s a sudden crack! of jujutsu in the air, and you already know from who before your stupidly fucked mind even registers it. Because it only takes a split-second - a split-second - for Gojo to teleport from right underneath you being ridden out of his fucking mind to be shovelling all girthy inches of his cock into you from behind.

“Ah! What-” you yelp, precariously collapsing onto the silken pillowcases now. Whirling your greedy gaze over your shoulder, “Th-that’s cheating.”

And Gojo doesn’t even hear you - fuck, he doesn’t even feel alive. 

The only thing one his delirious mind right now being the way your dribbling cunt was swallowing him up so well. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, entire heavy bodyweight slumping on top of yours when he’s jackhammering inch after inch.Tiny, mindless gyrations just to fit deeper - as if your clingy walls had forgotten how massive he was already. So heavy - you could barely breathe.

And it’s only when he’d bottomed out, it’s only when Gojo could feel your saturated folds kiss his fat base, his weepy tip drawing a long line of translucent precum across your cervix that you hear a noise from above you. 

It’s hoarse - pained. You’re halfway concerned before you hear that rumbling groan turn into a bout of laughter. Humorless, so, so pussydrunken. 

Gojo’s eyes glow with miniscule bolts of lightning when he’s dragging your face to crane upwards into his oh-so-feral gaze. The toothy grin smeared across his handsome features made it seem like he was fucking you like he hated you. Whispering - low. “You win th-this round, my girl.”

You feel a sudden spike in cursed energy - and you’re sure every electrical source within the next twenty-five miles does, too. Before Gojo plants one foot on your head and angles his hips deeply to pummel your womb with thick, knocking spurts of cum.

Fuck, every sudden ribbon of seed had him pressing into you ever deeper. Rougher. And Gojo could feel your snug cunt drain his tight balls again. Again and again and again until his furious divot could only pump out a few wispy strings of creamy white.

“God…” Gojo breathes, so strained. He’s swiftly thwacking! a few fingertips against your plump clit - buzzing jujutsu hot on his digits. Swirling those excess dredges of cum to make such a filthy mess of your pretty cunt. “This fuckin’ p-pussy feels so hngh- good. S’fuckin’ unfair-”

“Unfair? You’re the one using-”

And, well, usually Gojo loved hearing you run that smart mouth of yours. But right now all he could do was run his slender fingers over to your sensitive nub over and over - before punishing you with a tiny squeeze. “Mhm- all’s fair in l-love and ngh- war.”

Shit, he can already feel the exact moment when you cum - your toes curling, kiss-bitten lips letting out such a sweet keen of his name when the tingling waves take over. 

“O-of course, you ah- quote that-” you’re babbling out, strangled moans choking out with every clash of his bawling head into your g-spot. He’s memorized it by now. Perfected it.

Probing so deep that you think Gojo’s ready to batter a fat, circular bruise at that spot. Especially when his powerful hands wrap in a vice-like restraint around both your arms; biceps flexing, slack lips grunting as he manhandles your entire body to lift cleanly off the mess you call sheets. 

The strongest - he’s such a show-off.

Snickering when you gasp at the change in angle middair, jostling his expansive cock inside you rummagingly. He’s sweetly coating your insides with a sweltering hot pool of cum - once. Twice. And then nothing. 

Shooting blanks. 

You flinch when you feel the splat! splat! splat! of something wet, slowly realizing that Gojo was crying pearly tears from his pussydrunkenly droopy eyes. Smearing it when he rubs his face into the crook of your neck with a purr, “B-best out of ten…?”

“...”

A/N. PHEWWW I got CARRIED AWAYY with this one oml it was saur fun.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[moonsgemini]

nobody knows - rafe cameron

summary: a secret relationship between the kook king the sweet innocent kook & bathroom sex

warnings: 18+, cursing, reader being jealous, alcohol, SMUT, slight choking, semi public sex, pinv

an: hiiii hope y’all enjoy <3 this is a lil shorter than my usual stuff. I need drew starkey bad !! Might turn this into it’s own lil universe

-

This party was going to kill you. The scene in front of you calling for you to do something irrational. It was almost as if he wanted you to accidentally spill wine on Lindsey’s head.

The way her hand constantly found a place on his bicep has you gripping your glass a little tighter. The friendly smile on Rafe’s lips not helping ease your jealousy. Neither was the way he kept leaning down so he could hear her better, as if they were at a rave. It was a fairly small party for crying out loud there was no need for that.

If you had super powers the entire back yard would be lit up in flames with the way you were glaring at the pair. Of course he also wore that shirt you loved on him. The one you had mentioned on multiple occasions that it was your favorite.

You wished you could go over there and yank him down by the collar and smush your lips against his. Let everyone know that it’s your name he’s moaning at night and his lips and body that have your coming undone almost every night.

You wished everyone knew exactly what was going on between them. Then you wouldn’t have to disguise your jealousy as a head ache. You knew it was because of you that the two of you snuck around but you’re starting to want things to change. You couldn’t stand the sight of your man giving another woman attention.

“Garrett is such a dick I can’t believe I didn’t dump him sooner,” Her friend Nessa mumbled.

She hummed and nodded in agreement while finishing off the last of her wine. Not really paying attention to what her friend was saying.

“You’ve been quiet today. More than usual, all good?” Your friend Nessa asked.

You nodded, “Yeah just have a head ache again.”

“Then lets get you another glass, being drunk will help with that,” Nessa grabbed your hand. She led you back over to the small cocktail bar that was set up which was right past Rafe and Lindsey.

As the pair of you passed them you pretended not to see Rafe. Obviously Rafe’s eyes followed you, not really paying attention to whatever the girl in front of him had been yapping about.

He was trying this new thing where he wasn’t going to be an asshole to people. Unless they deserved it obviously, but it was really fucking hard when all he wanted to do was talk to you. The old him would have just ditched her mid sentence but that’s not who he wanted to be.

He watched as you poured yourself some more wine, your friend going on about something as you nodded along. His pretty girl always being the best listener.

After a minute you said something to your friend before walking into the house. After a few seconds Rafe said something about going to the bathroom and left the babbling blonde behind. He didn’t care he wanted to find you.

When he stepped inside he saw your half empty wine glass on the kitchen counter. He walked down the hall to the guest bathroom and knocked.

“I’ll be out in a minute Ness!” You shouted from behind the door.

“It’s Rafe,” he said.

The locked clicked and the door opened to reveal your pretty frame. You had chosen to wear that dress he loves in the color he loves on you. He wasn’t the only one who chose what they’re wearing for a specific reason. You poked your head out and looked both ways before tugging him inside by the collar of his shirt. He chuckled at your antics

“Don’t you think it looks more suspicious if we’re in here together?” He smirked with a raised brow. In all honesty he didn’t really give a fuck if people saw you two together but he knows you aren’t ready.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not like you were flirting it up out there with Lindsey.”

His smirk widened at the realization that you were jealous. He liked how around everyone you were always sweet and polite, sometimes even a little timid. But with him it was a different story. He loved the way you talked back to him and rolled your eyes at him. He loved the dirty things that sweet innocent mouth said to him when he was relentlessly fucking you.

“You jealous baby?” He stepped forward so the small of your back hit the counter.

Your scowl deepened as you crossed your arms, “No.”

He reach up stroked your cheek gently. His eyes going down to your lips, “You being a tough girl now. Come on baby you know she doesn’t have anything on you.”

Your scowl softened, “Well it doesn’t matter because it’s not like she knows that.”

Rafe leaned forward and kissed your cheek then your jaw and continued his way down to your pulse point, “I’ll let her know, we can let everyone know princess. I can fuck you right here right now.”

You gasped at his words and at the scrape of his teeth on the sensitive skin of your neck, “Rafe,” you practically moaned.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re too opposed to that,” His finger slipped under your dresses strap and pulled it down. His lips kissing the newly exposed skin as he went down to your chest, “Make you scream my name as I bend you over.”

You wanted to talk back to him but you couldn’t as your eyes fluttered shut. His hands had moved down your waist and to your thighs. Slowly dragging his fingertips up them until he plucked at your stringy underwear letting it snap back against your skin. He made you such an incoherent mess and you loved it.

With everything in you you mustered back a reply, “You sure you want Lindsey to hear.”

He chuckled against the top of your breasts that were exposed. His fingers now pressing against your wet clothed cunt.

“It seems like you want her to hear baby,” He pressed his fingers against your clit and rubbed soft circles, “look at how wet you are huh. My dirty girl.”

A whimper escaped your lips at the sensation. His fingers slipped under your tiny panties and he slid them through your sopping cunt and groaned against your neck, “God I love how you feel.”

You tugged his face up to meet your desperate eyes as you pulled him in for a kiss. You both moaned at the feeling. You loved when Rafe fucked you but you loved kissing him even more. His fingers picked up the pace a little against your throbbing clit. You could feel your wetness dripping down your legs.

“Please let me fuck you right here baby,” He mumbled against your lips, “I’ll do it so good. I’ll make you cum all over my cock.”

That whole being more nice thing Rafe was working on never applied to you. You were probably the only person on the island who had ever heard the kook king say please and thank you. Sometimes he even practically begged to fuck you or eat you out. You lived for it. It made your skin tingle and your tummy flutter.

You nodded your head, “Yes Rafey.”

He pulled his fingers away from you and practically shoved them into your mouth. You loved it though, tasting yourself on his long thick fingers. Your tongue licking them clean. He bit his lip and groaned with hooded eyes. Rafe was utterly obsessed with you.

He pulled his fingers out with a pop and leaned in capturing your mouth in his in another searing kiss. It was sloppy and made your head spin. He pulled away spinning you around. Your hands landed on the counter to steady yourself as he hiked your dress up to your waist.

Rafe gave your ass a firm squeeze and took a few seconds to admire you on this position. He loved that he could still see your pretty face in the mirror, he could see just how fucked you were for him. Your swollen lips, hooded eyes, and messy hair all because of him. It made his heart beat faster and his ego grow. He loves that no one else has known you in this way until he came around.

You watched as he began to undo his pants and pull his thick cock out. You whimpered at the sight of him stroking himself a few times. Grabbing the tiny string of your panties he pulled it to the side before lining himself up with you.

“You’re a fucking dream,” He groaned as he slipped his tip in. The warm wetness of your pussy making him throw his head back. Slowly he slotted himself in you. The feeling of you clenching around him already getting him so close.

“Fuck you’re coming home with me,” He groaned as he began moving in and out.

You nodded with hazy lust filled eyes. You’d do anything he asked of you. The feeling of him stretching you out was out of this world. You didn’t understand how he was always able to hit that spot that had your back arching and mouth forming into an o.

He fucked you as quietly as he could. Rafe didn’t give a fuck if people heard but he knew you did. It’s not like you were embarrassed of Rafe and he knew that. It would just make things complicated if people knew. There’d be constant prying and knit picking at everything you two did and how you acted.

“Oh Rafe,” you mumbled standing up so your back was against his chest. He groaned and wrapped one of his hands around your throat. Your head fell back against his shoulder.

Rafe’s other hand found it’s way to your chest. He pinched one of your nipples and squeezed your breast. He did the same thing to the other one before sliding down your stomach and to your clit. He rubbed circles as he continued to thrust into you.

He moved the hand that was around your throat to hold your jaw. Tugging your head down to look in the mirror.

“You see that baby, He nodded towards your reflection, “see how good you look when I’m inside you. My girl takes me so damn well.”

“I-I mmmph oh Rafe,” you mumbled incoherently but he knew what you were trying to say. He could tell you were close by the way you tightened around him and the way you dripping down him.

“I know,” He groaned, “I’m there too.” A loud moan began escaping you but rafe moved his hand up quickly to cover your mouth.

“Shit look at you, no one will ever compare. Fuck I’m all yours,” He grunted.

Your moans were muffled by his big hand as you came. He wasn’t farm behind as he buried his face in your neck as he came inside you.

“Well we’ve never done that before,” you giggled.

He huffed a laugh, “I’m pretty sure we’ve done that plenty of times before.”

You shook your head, “We’ve never done it in a bathroom at a party.”

He smirked as he pulled out of you and adjusting your clothes for you. He gave your ass a gentle slap, “I should make you jealous more often.”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to face him, “So what if I was jealous.”

He kissed you, “You have nothing to be jealous of. I’m yours.”

You smiled softly as your heart swelled, “Rafe maybe we should tell people.”

His eyes widened slightly, “Really?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his excitement, “mhmm I want to go on dates here in town. I want to be the one who has your attention all night and when I get too drunk you drive me home.”

He smiled, “Sounds perfect.”

After fixing yourselves to look presentable again you opened the door and led Rafe out not really thinking. But before you could even step through the doorway you were face to face with Lindsey who had a scowl on her face.

“Finally,” she rolled her eyes but then she saw the person standing behind you, “oh that’s where you disappeared to?” that scowl never leaving her.

Rafe nodded with a smirk, “My girl needed me.”

You blushed as you stepped past her with Rafe’s hand in yours with smiles plastered on both your faces.

[highvern]

Red Card

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: smut/fluff, non-idol au, 80s au (aesthetics only), childhood friends to lovers

Warnings: drinking, weed use (not reader tho), skinny dipping, non-graphic injuries (sprained knee), mingyu gets a booboo and reader kisses it better, oral (m & f receiving), face sitting, penetrative sex, protected sex. all of em's biases in one fic

Length: ~12k

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS MS @gyuswhore EVERYONE TELL HER HAPPY BIRTHDAY thank you for dealing with all my tomfoolery on a daily basis. i hope this is a nice treat after the trenches of academia. thank you @haologram and @tomodachiii for beta reading!

Summary: Mingyu's been there through everything. From childhood to now. What happens when he gets hurt and someone else has to step in and play the hero?

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

You’re going to kill your roommate.

Maybe not this second, when you’re still waking up and the sun has barely started to filter through the blinds and the alarm clock is blaring in your ear. It’s difficult to strangle someone when he’s smothering you with his entire body weight, completely unaware of the fact you can’t breathe because of it.  There's heat and then there's sweating out of your skin because your roommate doesn’t understand ‘what’s mine is yours’ only extends to the food in the fridge.

You’ll strangle Mingyu one day, but right now you’re late for work. 

“Get off!” you fume, pushing at his shoulder with all your strength. 

Mingyu smacks his lips sleepily and burrows further into your neck. You pinch his nipple between your finger and twist.

“Ow! What the fuck?” he screams, shuffling off you and into the wall, eyes wild and clutching his chest like a scandalized old woman

Rolling off the mattress, you navigate the dark of your room looking for your work clothes. “How many times have I told you not to sleep in here?”

“My room is so hot!” Mingyu whines, digging his face into the pillow.

“Yeah, well now my room is too.” You find the floral green and pink dress of your Pier Club uniform. Facing away from Mingyu, you swiftly change into it and look for the matching skirt. It’s offensive, even in the dim predawn. “Do you have work today?”

Mingyu stuffs himself further beneath the blankets, only the very center of his face visible. “Yeah. Covering for JJ.”

“Get up then. We’re gonna be late.”

Mingyu scrambles to his room to get dressed. The bathroom is wedged between his room and Soonyoung's, so you hear a thud, and a curse followed by another louder thud and a grunt of pain. He joins you in the bathroom, dressed in his uniform: pink polo, white pants, and white golf shoes. Like an incredibly tall and sleepy flamingo.

Two people becomes four in a blink, each of you reaching over and under for whatever is needed from the small shelf in the mirror. Your elbow meets Dokyeom’s eye, and someone steps on your foot. 

Soonyoung is pouring coffee into a mug in the kitchen, foot tapping against the linoleum while Dokyeom rushes around trying to find his pants. You’ve lived like this for two years. It doesn’t even phase you.

“If you’re not in the truck in five you’re walking!” Mingyu calls and disappears.

One by one you file out. You detour for the kitchen. The toaster takes two minutes and the coffee pot four but you’re still faster than the other two and get an actual seat in the cab of the truck. There's really no decent way to get in and out of a truck in a skirt anyway so you take the small blessing that comes in the form of cracked leather seats and a door you have to roll down the window to open from the outside.

Dokyeom chases the green Ford down the driveway six minutes later and Mingyu slows down enough for him to hop into the flatbed next to Soonyoung. You’re only two minutes late in the end.

The club is packed with guests all day. By the time dinner service is over and you’ve counted your tips, all you want is to go home and pass out but it’s Seungcheol’s birthday. Despite what he explicitly asked everyone for (an Atari 7800), there’s a bonfire at the beach and if Mingyu is there then you are too. Someone has to pile him and the other boys into the bed of his truck and get them home.

The private section of the beach reserved for locals only is packed. Someone blasts a Bowie track, drunk party goers dancing around the massive bonfire while others relax on logs or sit in the sand and watch. A few people stroll down by the water, splashing through the shallows in the dark.

You stay planted in one of the few real chairs, sipping on a beer while your roommates do who knows what. It’s not that you don’t like parties; but your feet hurt and more than a few people stiffed you today so you’re tired. And now, after a few drinks you’re tired and drunk. But no one is ready to leave so it’s either wait or walk and the five miles back to the house is daunting enough you stay firmly planted.

“Ooo, got any more of those for me?” Jeonghan plants himself in the sand next to you, reaching for the cooler.

You slam the lid down on his hand and pull it out of his reach. “Fuck off, you still owe me for last time.”

He tries cozying up to you; pretending the arm around your shoulder is meant as a sweet hug and not a means to get his hand back in the ice box behind you. “Look, I didn’t drink your vodka. But if I did, it tasted like shit.”

“I’m not talking about the vodka, I’m talking about when you fucked some bimbo in my bed!”

He’s already drunk on someone else’s booze; Seungcheol’s no doubt.  

“Oh. That.” Jeonghan scratched the back of his neck. “Listen, it was a big misunderstanding.”

“What misunderstanding? Your dick couldn’t stay in your pants for three more feet to fuck in Soonyoung’s room?”

Jeonghan balks, eyes glazed in the fire light. “Have you tried having sex on a waterbed? It’s not easy.”

Mingyu, as always, is honed in on your bad mood and comes up the beach smiling, hair a mess in the wind. You don’t stare and focus on slapping Jeonghan’s hands away. “Everything okay?”

“I’m gonna kill Jeonghan,” you mumble. 

“I asked her for a beer.”

Mingyu arches a brow. “Didn’t you fuck some girl in her bed last time we had a party?”

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing. She is drunk and acting like the beer czar. Where is the hospitality?”

“If I give you one will you leave?”

“Yes,” Jeonghan responds immediately.

Mingyu passes him two beers and snaps the cooler shut before the older man can get greedy. Jeonghan salutes Mingyu and then sticks his tongue out at you before leaving for the other side of the fire.

“Eat shit and die!” you call. You love Jeonghan but he’s got a way of grating on your last never. Especially after the girl he hooked up with stained your sheets with fake tan even if he offered to buy you a new bed and sheets.

Jeonghan waves the hand full of beers over his head. “Eat shit and live!”

“Alright, let’s get you home,” Mingyu chuckles. 

In his truck, the radio hums one of his fifty million cassettes. He only breaks the comfy lull at a deserted intersection. “One to ten, how mad would you be if we took a detour?”

“At least five, but it depends on where.” You eye him sceptically. Truly, all you want is to get home, shower, and sleep. But Mingyu had a way of convincing you to go along with whatever plan he’d cooked up.

“Chocolate shakes at Joe’s and then the lookout.”

It’s hard saying no to that. Even harder when Mingyu stares at you like a hopeful puppy. 

Your eyes roll. “Okay, maybe like a two.”

“I’ll get you chili cheese fries.”

“Negative one.”

Mingyu turns right, humming along to the next song the entire way to the drive in diner. Your eyes are heavier each minute but greasy food sounds fantastic and your grumbling stomach keeps you from falling asleep against the door. 

Joe’s sits in all its neon glory, like a little beacon of light in the otherwise quiet beach town. Most of the picnic tables littered outside are covered in people; out of towners, teenage locals with sun bleached hair and frizzy perms, old couples who’ve been coming since milkshakes were invented. Almost all of the workers rushing through the diner in red polos are still in highschool and then there’s Vernon manning the cash register at the window like the captain of a ship. He doesn’t even look like he works here; white cut off tee and neon green swim trunks don’t really match the fifties aesthetic but no one says anything, even the owner.

Vernon doesn’t bother ringing the order up, yelling at the line cooks it’s on the house. He thrusts two paper cups and a greasy paper bag across the counter and greets the next customer in line.

Twenty minutes later Mingyu is parking his truck on the side of the road and trailing across the dunes to the even more secluded beach, one only the most local townies know about. Since most of those are few and far between, it’s just you two planted in the sand, chilli cheese fries and chocolate shakes filling your bellies in no time.

“I think I’m gonna get Joe’s logo tattooed on me.”

“He’ll probably leave the place to you if you did.”

“Vernon is literally named in his will, I’ve seen it.” Mingyu lays back in the sand and closes his eyes.

The waves crash on along the shore, the perfect soundtrack to lull you closer to sleep now that your belly is filled. Beneath you, the sand is just warm enough to be cozy against the chill rolling off the ocean.

“Wanna swim?” he asks.

Sinking deeper, eyes closed, you’re only thinking about how amazing your bed would be right at this very moment. “I want to go to sleep.”

“Studies show you sleep better after swimming.” Mingyu rolls up to his feet, grabbing you in an attempt to get you to agree. He knows you will. Wherever one is the other is sure to follow. It’s been that way since you two were in diapers and Mingyu started walking seconds after you only to chase you around the living room.

You’re deadweight in his arms as you respond,“How would you know? You didn’t go to college.”

“I’m just academically inclined.”

“My apologies,” you gasp. A swim does sound nice for your aching muscles. It’s been so long since you just enjoyed the water. Last time you swam was when you picked up a life guarding shift and an old man screamed bloody murder because he didn’t know how to swim; never mind he was in the shallow end of the pool. 

You finally rise to your feet and shrug off your shirt.

Mingyu joins. He doesn’t shy away as he drops his pants, his shirt floating to the ground next to it. You don’t stare. There’s no need when you’ve seen him nearly naked a million times. But you do catch him staring when you bend over to fold your shorts.

“What?”

Blinking out of his daze, Mingyu bolts for the ocean. “Last one in the water is a rotten egg!”

“You fucking cheater!” you scream and sprint after him. 

He’s far out by the time you catch up, where the waves are just starting to curl in on themselves. You both bob along to their rhythm as the tide pulls in and out. 

Mingyu dives beneath the water, breaching with his hair sticking to his face. His lips are wet and slick. Mingyu pulls you a little, brings you into his chest so the next wave you coast over together. 

You want to kiss him. 

It’s not a new thought; doesn’t surprise you one bit. His mouth probably still tastes like that last sip of chocolate shake. The first and only time you’ve ever kissed Mingyu you were both two out of it to actually appreciate it. It was poetically cruel to give your first kiss away to your best friend only for him to forget it the next day.

It’s easy to ignore the urge to kiss him. You’ve wanted to kiss him again for years. Touching him is an entirely different matter. You can touch Mingyu as much as you like, he likes it when you do and pouts when you don’t. You rarely shy away from a chance to let him touch you either. It’s never enough though.

You twist around him, clinging to his back. Ankles locked across his stomach, Mingyu pulls your hands in front of him and holds your hands; his thumb traces the knob of your wrist over and over in tiny circles. He definitely feels the way your nipples harden through your bra but has the courtesy to ignore it; lets you hide from the cold water in the curve of his neck.

“You need a haircut,” you say. You tug on one of the long locks hanging at eye level, and Mingyu shivers. With so much bare skin pressed against each other you feel the goosebumps blooming on his skin, and when you pull again to see what’ll happen he snatches your hand away and changes the subject.

“Are you gonna be good for the Open this weekend?”

“I’ll be fine,” you yawn. Mingyu pulls your legs tighter around his waist, bobbing you both amongst the waves. It’s dangerously relaxing. “I’m not losing to Seungkwan again this year.”

“We’re not losing to Seungkwan this year.”

“Damn straight.”

You float in silence. Mingyu keeps both of you above water. When you signal you’re ready to go he carries you out of the water, right up to where your clothes lay. He doesn’t let you down as he scoops them up and goes for his car. 

“Show off,” you mumble.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

You’re deposited on the ground next to the driver’s side door. Apparently he can’t hold you and dig up the spare towels he keeps packed beneath the seats. There’s no point in putting your clothes back on over your wet underwear so you ride back to the house wrapped tightly in a towel and Mingyu’s around his waist, chest completely bare.

You blast through a shower, done before the crappy water heated even has time to reach full potential which isn’t much because rent is cheap and your landlord cheaper. But you’re clean and that’s all that matters before you dress and crawl into bed, the door of your room still open. You catch Mingyu passing by on the way back to his room, towel around his neck and the cut sweat shorts he swears don’t need to be thrown out hanging low on his hips. 

“Where are you going?” you call. 

His head pops in, covered in shadow from the hall light. “You said, literally this morning might I add, ‘sleep in my room one more time and I’ll kill you.’”

“Yeah well,” you huff. “My feet hurt. So you can sleep in here if you give me a massage.”

He does and he doesn’t even complain while doing it. Mingyu closes your bedroom door, locks you both in the dark; sits at the foot of your bed, tugging your feet across his lap and setting to work. His thumb digs into the arch of your foot, malting all of your muscles into straight goo. You’ve never been more happy for his overly abundant body heat as he works his hands up your calves. He’s frustratingly attentive as you shiver and wiggle in blissful agony.

In the dark of your room, brain hazy with fatigue, you don’t care you’re moaning at the pressure of his palms working the knots out of your muscles. Mingyu doesn’t acknowledge it but he does knead a little bit hard and you sigh from relief. And then the bastard digs his thumb into that place behind your knee that's painfully ticklish.

“You asshole!” you scream, scrambling away. 

“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted a massage?” he laughs. You try to kick him but he catches your foot and pins it to his stomach. 

“I swear—Mingyu! Stop!”

Thankfully, he does after a few more pleas. You can’t even see him in the dark except for the reflection of the moon through your blinds that clues you into his silhouette. But you know he’s satisfied because he starts humming while massaging once again. It’s nice. You start nodding off to the soft strength of his hands and the rich sound of his voice.

Mingyu prides himself on doing a thorough job in everything so once your ankles and calves are worked into submission his hands reach higher. Almost like he doesn’t realize exactly where he’s going; who he’s touching as he grips just above your knee. Your legs part and Mingyu keeps going. 

Your best friend is beautiful and you love him. Of course, you do. Like every other time you’ve been turned on by him, you staunchly pretend it isn’t happening. Make up some excuse; biology, you’re in love with him. the fact you haven’t been laid in nearly a year, you’re in love with Mingyu, you’ve been drinking, your best friend has his hand beneath the hem of your pajama shorts and you’re in love with him.

“Good?” he asks.

Mingyu lingers there for a second. Then another one. You decide feigning sleep is the less awkward option than begging him to finger you until you can’t see straight. It doesn’t take much pretending; you’re bone dead tired and the second you let it filter in it takes control. Ever the gentleman, Mingyu removes his hands and climbs up to lay next to you.

You actually fall asleep curled against his back. It’s still too hot even with the ceiling fan on high so you both lay above the covers. 

The next morning you wake up the same as always, legs tangled, his chest to your back because Mingyu doesn’t understand personal space – especially your personal space. It’s fine. You’re used to it. It’s your day off which means it’s too early to be awake because it’s still dark in your room. If you try really hard you know you can fall back asleep until noon.

But then you feel exactly what woke you up.

Mingyu has a boner.

You reach back and pinch his side to wake him. You know he’s at least semi-conscious because he whines and tries to hide in your hair as you admonish him. “Get your dick off me.”

“Ignore it, he’ll go away,” his lips smack next to your ear.

“Mingyu,” you whine. “It’s gross.”

He falls back asleep without moving anywhere. If you had pushed at him he would’ve rolled over and given you his back to cuddle up against but you don’t so he doesn’t. You try not to think about how big he is. Or how your underwear are still a little sticky from last night. Or the fact your shorts rode up during the night and the only thing separating your ass from his cock is those damn threadbare sweatshorts. There is also the placement of his hand just below your boobs. Over your shirt because the universe isn’t that cruel.

It’s fine. It’s not the first time he’s gotten hard while sharing a bed. The first place you two rented - freshly eighteen and just starting to have a world without parents breathing down your necks - there was only enough money between you to split one bedroom and have enough money to afford a bed. Thankfully, Mingyu is the cleanest person you know so it worked without bloodshed but it left some very uncomfortable moments in the morning when you’d wake up from dirty dreams about your childhood crush only to find his face a few inches away. Or the other, more awkward, days when Mingyu’s body reminded him he was a hormonal teenager sharing a bed with a girl with zero supervision.

You both refuse to talk about it. Or the times either of you walked in on the other masturbating. 

True to his word, his dick softens against your ass and you try not to be a little disappointed. A world of possibilities if you weren’t terrified of ruining a life long friendship. You could roll over and kiss him. And if he let you kiss him then you’d want to touch him. If you touched him then he’d probably touch you back. In all the years you’d know him you didn’t take Mingyu for a selfish person; or a selfish lover. If he reduced you to a puddle with a simple massage last night then what else was he capable of? 

But you don’t want meaningless satisfaction. You want Mingyu. Everyday, all the time. One hundred percent completely yours. 

Eventually your alarm clock blares and Mingyu rolls out of bed; leaving you all alone as he heads out to work with the other two. You fall asleep once the front door slams shut.

Ten hours later, Mingyu isn’t home. No problem. He probably got roped into doing an extra shift or the last group he caddied for insisted on treating him to a drink. It happens. Often. 

You don’t worry until hour twelve rolls around and Soonyoung and Dokyeom aren’t home either. The restaurant  is closed by this hour, the last tables cleared out and reset for the next day. The pool is closed too. One of them should be home.

The house is too quiet without them. You try reading. Watching TV. Listening to music. Cleaning the kitchen. You try everything you can think of to make that horrible feeling in your stomach go away but it doesn’t.

Then the phone rings.

“Hello?”

The line cracks with a familiar voice. “Hey, it’s DK. Umm…”

“Where the hell are you guys?” you ask.

“Promise me you won’t freak.”

“You saying that pretty much guarantees I’m gonna freak.”

“Okay, listen, everything is fine. Mingyu is okay but—”

“But what?”

“He hurt himself on the course today and we’re at the hospital. Hoshi is on his way to get you right now.”

“What the hell happened?”

“Something twisted wrong or something, I don’t know I flunked out of med school.”

It takes Soonyoung fifteen minutes to get to the house but once he does you feel a little better. You don’t even get to ask before he’s talking.

“He’s fine,” he promises. “Just doped up on painkillers.”

“Did they say what’s wrong?”

“Something with his knee, nothing super serious but he’s supposed to stay off it for like a month or something.”

Soonyoung looks guilty as you take the keys and leave him behind but he has to be up in four hours when the rest of you don’t.

The hospital is nearly deserted this late at night, a few nurses in the parking lot smoking during their break but otherwise you're pretty much alone. Inside the reception area is all sterile lighting and pleather chairs in pastel pink and teal.

A woman in scrubs and feathered blowout sits at the desk answering phone calls and scratching through paperwork.

“I’m here for Mingyu. Mingyu Kim.”

“Room eight.”

You thank her and head back to search for wherever your best friend is holed up. It takes only a few walks around the corridor because unless he aged fifty years, the elderly woman in room eight is not him.

You find him and Dokyeom with their eyes glued to the TV, Scooby Doo reruns stealing their attention. You hover in the doorway.

Mingyu has his leg wrapped from mid-shin up his thigh, knee resting on a stack of pillows. His eyes are glazed from whatever pills the hospital staff gave him before your arrival.

Someone clears their throat behind you. By the scrubs you assume she’s the doctor. “Another friend of Mr. Kim’s?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Is he okay?”

“He sprained his knee. Nasty work but not fatal.”

“How?”

She shrugs, pen clicking in her hand. “Over use, stretched too far either side. Good news, he doesn’t need surgery.”

“So he’ll be okay?”

“Since he didn’t tear any ligaments I’d say a few weeks until he recovers, longer if he doesn’t rest properly. And I mean actually rest. At least a week in bed, and then two on crutches. Maybe three but he’ll be okay.”

Mingyu is fine. As fine as he can be with a bum leg for the next few weeks but fine nonetheless. You feel like you can actually breathe again, the anxious part of your brain proclaiming the worst finally silent.

“Alright, thank you.”

Weight off your chest, you enter the room. Dokyeom sees you first and bows out. He knows you’re planning to rip Mingyu a new one. Or cry. You don’t really do well when he’s hurt or vice versa.

Mingyu only notices your presence when you’re standing next to the bed, arms crossed, breath shaky.

“You’re mad,” he whispers, chin tucked to his chest like an upset toddler.

“I’m not mad.”

“Really?” He sounds hopeful, dumb puppy eyes round and wet like he’s ready to cry at the first sound of your disapproval.

“I was mad when you broke your arm because Jungkook talked you into boogie boarding drunk. I was mad when Wonwoo gave you a black eye from his Atari controller. I was mad when you, tweedle dee and tweedle dumb almost flooded the house. Now, I’m furious. What the fuck were you thinking?”

You’re mad because he’s in a hospital bed and you thought he died. And it terrified you.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!”

You break, shoulders sagging in defeat. It isn’t his fault. Freak accident, an overdue inevitable. “I know, I’m sorry. I just… you really scared me.”

“Do you want a hug?”

“Your leg is broken and you’re offering me a hug?”

He stares at you, eyes pretty and dark with huge pupils. “Dude, I’m so high you could tell me you crashed my truck and I wouldn’t care.”

“A hug would be nice.”

It’s uncomfortable to bend at the waist but Mingyu makes it worth it. Sweeps you into his chest, doesn’t comment on the hot tears that damp his neck and shirt but that might have to do with the fact he’s out of his mind. But he also brushes his hand through your hair and kisses the top of your head so it isn’t so bad.

“You didn’t crash my truck, did you?”

“No,” you snort.

You soak in it for a few minutes, let Scooby Doo fill the silence while you sniffle into his collar for a little while longer. And then you're shoving it all away with the realization Mingyu can’t work if he can’t get around the resort.

“Doctor said you’re out of work for at least a week. And after that you’ll probably be stuck in the laundry room because I doubt Jin wants you hobbling around the cabana with crutches.”

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“Yeah. Fuck,” you agree. “I’ll figure something out, take more shifts. Josh needs more surf instructors too so I can pick those up. Hoshi probably owes one of us money.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It's just gonna be a tight winter is all.”

“What about the Open?”

“Jungkook can fill in for you. If we win, he takes half of your share. It’s better than nothing.”

He mutters something you don’t hear. Probably more high protests and apologies. It smells like antiseptic.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

It takes three nurses, Dokyeom, a wheelchair, and an infinite reserve of your patience to get Mingyu in the bed of his truck. His knee is bandaged in the split so thickly he can’t move it and he’s too tall to sit in the passenger seat with his leg straight so the truckbed is the only place for him to go. You try to drive responsibly but it’s late and you're burnt out from a long day.

Back home, Hoshi is passed out in his room, the stink of weed warning you not to wake him. Dokyeom offers to help but thankfully, even high on painkillers, Mingyu acclimates to crutches enough to get from outside to his room.

“You smell,” you say to cut the tension.

“How am I supposed to shower like this?” He gestures to his leg. You know the warning signs of his temper. Mingyu will pretend it doesn’t bother him but it clearly does; having to ask for your help to do something as simple as shower.

“I could hose you down in the yard.”

He pouts. The meds must be wearing off at this point. “I’m sure that would make you feel better.”

“Nah, I’d be the one who has to clean you off the driveway afterwards.” You shake your head. The bathroom is small, the shower stall smaller but Mingyu needs a shower. “Give me a second.”

One of the plastic lawn chairs from the back porch fits perfectly in the stall. You lay out everything he could need: soap, towels, a trash bag to wrap over the stint. Then you head back towards your room to get him.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Mingyu hobbles alongside you, easily maneuvering the hallway but the bathroom is more difficult. There isn’t space for his crutches so he slumps into your side, way heavier than the time you had to drag him home higher than a kite. 

It’s claustrophobic with him basically on top of you but he’s capable of underdressing when you park him against the counter and focus on angling the shower head so he doesn't end up accidentally waterboarded. 

“Underwear stays on. I don’t want to see your dick.”

“Yeah, well, he’s pretty scared of you right now anyway.”

After helping him into the chair you leave him to his business with strict instructions to yell for you when he’s done. You use the time to clean your room. Clothes off the floor, bed made so he can sleep with a few extra pillows you snagged from his bed where you’ll be sleeping.

He’s got a bum leg, the least you could do is give him the better room.

You do everything the nurses told you. An ice pack and a hot water bottle all sit on the side table ready for Mingyu after you fish him out of the tub.

A yell of your name is your cue.

Mingyu sits soaked and pathetic. He couldn’t reach the towels you laid out, so you have to hand them to him. Turns out it’s also more difficult getting him out than in, you have to touch and pull and push him. His skin lingers with warmth from the water and a little slippery so it’s even harder. Mingyu is no help at all. A Great Dane who thinks he’s a Chihuahua.

He’s out like a light once he’s in your bed. Dead asleep beneath the covers with his leg sticking out to the side. You tuck him in extra tight, snagging the forgotten provisions and returning them to the kitchen. 

You come back to grab clothes and leave but Mingyu sits awake with the covers pulled back for you to join.

“Come on,” he beckons.

“I’m not sleeping in here.”

His eyes shoot open, attempting to sit up, “Why not?” 

“Your knee—” you start.

“Let me worry about my knee.”

Sure. Like that’ll happen.

“Physically impossible for me not to worry.”

“The doctor said it’s bad for me to be lonely.” He pulls the covers back again and your chest aches. 

“She did not.”

“She did too,” he grunts. 

“Fine. Close your eyes, I need to change.”

He zips them shut. Throws an arm over his face for dramatic effect. You rush into a clean shirt (his) and shorts and dive beneath the covers.

“You’re so far away,” Mingyu whines. 

“Mingyu stop!”

He doesn’t. He uses all those muscles against you and drags you up his chest. “Come here.”

“Happy?”

“Yep.”

Your head is cradled heavy on his chest, the argument dying out. He falls asleep quickly and you follow right behind.

In the morning, Mingyu complains about his leg until you leave for the last minute shift you begged off Chan. The next two days are the same. Mingyu stays on the couch or tucked away in your room while everyone else scrambles around him. Until the weekend comes giving all of you time off.

Saturday is the Open. The biggest doubles volleyball tournament on the beach, boasting a first place prize of two grand. Seungkwan and Seungcheol won the last two years and never let either of you forget it for standing a foot below them on the podium, firmly in second and a thousand dollars poorer than them.

Two years in second place buys you into the semi-finals. Thank god, because Jungkook and you haven’t played together in years and he’s an even bigger ball hog than you remember.

“Talk!” Mingyu calls from his chair like a washed up coach. You argued with him for hours over whether or not him coming to the beach was a good idea given he’s done everything but what the doctor recommended. But he’d be damned if you beat Seungkwan and he wasn’t there to gloat about it.

Dokyeom and Soonyoung serve as his assistants, hitting over the net while you and Jungkook scramble to dig every single one up like it’s do or die.

“That one was clearly mine!” Jungkook argues.

“It was going out of bounds!”

“It was close!”

It’s been like this all morning. While the other courts are playing to qualify you and Jungkook try not to rip each other's throats out. It’ll take a miracle to win a single point let alone the two matches you need to win.

You just want the day over with so you can drown your sorrows in a chocolate shake and think about how satisfying it would be to launch it at your friend’s head at warp speed.

The first game is hard and fast. Jungkook saves your ass more times than you can count, committed to winning even if it sends him crashing into the line of spectators sitting courtside. It doesn’t help you win the first set one bit. Jaehyun successfully blocks nearly every attempt Jungkook makes at the net and the ones that do slide through fly out of bounds.

You don't take well to failure and neither does Jungkook. 

Somewhere around the third rally of the second set you two find a cohesive back and forth. Jungkook digs a cut shot, you set him up and he’s there with a kill. It happens again. The third time Jaehyun gives up on sending it deep and drops the ball right over the net and the miracle you needed happens because you get it up enough for Jungkook to return it and earn the point. 

It starts to feel good. Adrenaline lifting you to the next level, vision narrowed down to you and the game. Lung straining, muscles burning, your skin hot from the sun. Your swimsuit leaves plenty of skin exposed to collect more sand with each impact on the ground. The wind picks up slightly, and turns the sound of waves and the crowd into one dull murmur..

You and Jungkook win two sets to one.

He’s sweaty and covered in sand when he sweeps you into a hug, a victory cry loud on his lips. It isn’t the final match but it’s the small victories that count. Jungkook loves winning, he only likes you and mostly for Mingyu’s sake. The friend of my boyfriend's friend is my friend too, or something like that.

Mingyu and Jungkook are the boyfriends.

On the side lines, Mingyu looks happy. Tired but happy. He’s like a king holding court, friends and strangers circling around him for an ounce of attention. Most of the people at the resort haven’t seen him since he busted his knee and check he’s okay. The others are out of towners attracted to a pretty boy with a sad cast and tendency to talk a mile a minute with anyone who’d listen. 

You push them all out of the way and celebrate with him.

“We did it!”

“Yeah,” he nods. That’s all the celebration you get from him before he’s on to the next game set to start in five minutes. “You and Jungkook need to keep Kwan from hitting. Serve short, hit deep.”

It's weird but you don’t focus on it. You need water and to get back on the court.

“Got it.” 

Seungkwan doesn’t shit talk. It’s mostly Seungcheol at the net trying to bait you into an argument while Jungkook readies to serve.

“How’s your boyfriend?” he jabs.

“How’s yours?” You focus on the sand beneath your feet, the breeze off the wave. He’s been trying to get under your skin with that line for years. It won’t work now. 

First point, you and Jungkook.

The next five, Seungkwan and Seungcheol.

The score goes back and forth, a slim margin for error as the number climbs closer to twenty-one. 

You hit the next set, aiming for the wide gap between Seungkwan and the line. The ball sliced across the net, Seungcheol misreading it by just a hair and the momentum of his block swinging him the opposite direction. It’s perfect. It heads straight for the line and lands without Seungkwan able to save it in time. 

The crowd breaks into applause. The official blows his whistle…

And calls it out.

“That was a touch! Are you fucking blind?” Mingyu yells.

You wince at the next whistle as she flashes him a yellow card.

Fuck. 

He’s up at the perimeter of the court fuming, hands on his hips through his crutches. You march right up to him, identical scowl.

“Mingyu, I swear if you get a red card, I will shove my foot so far up your ass—”

The whistle blows and Seungkwan serves without waiting for you to be ready. It’s a rocket right where you should have been standing.

Seungkwan and Seungcheol take the first match by four points.

The second match starts worse. You’re out of rhythm, fuming at blowing the last set. Jungkook fills in the best he can and keeps you two from totaling blowing it. Fifteen to seventeen with your serve.

You pop it over the net, Seungkwan reading it easily. But a last second gust pushes it of course.

Ace.

Lucky isn’t as strongly on your side for the next serve but it’s good enough. Jungkook passes. With a quick set, he rises above the net, hanging midair. A quick snap of his arm delivers a hit neither opponents on the other side of the net can reach. The ball slams into the sand right before the line.

It’s tit for tat. One up one down. Your body hurts, covered in bruises from diving over and over again but you don’t stop. Jungkook doesn’t either.

Match point comes swiftly. Seungkwan tosses the ball in the air and unleashes a deep serve. It’s fast but you’re underneath it but the angle is wrong. Jungkook dumps it over the net out of Seungcheol’s reach but Seungkwan is there. 

No one’s giving an inch. Just when the ball nearly drops someone picks it up. Everyone plays ugly, scrappy. 

A break comes when Seungcheol passes too high, right on the net. Seungkwan knows it, you know it. You race to joust. Pushing with everything you’ve got until the ball gives. It falls to the sand.

On the other team's side.

Everything blurs. You tackle Jungkook to the ground, cheering. Your friends race onto the court shouting. There’s a dog pile someone has to pull you out of because you can’t breathe underneath them all but you don’t care. Your ears ring, eyes nearly shut from how wide you smile.

You’re carried away for the podium ceremony, Mingyu nowhere in sight. It feels pretty damn good being on top. The heavy weight of the gold medal keeps you grounded. But your best friend is missing and a part of you is gone with him.

You don’t find him until the after party at the locals only beach. He’s got a red cup and a scowl on the tailgate of his truck. 

“Where’d you go? I didn’t see you at the podium.”

“You seemed fine on your own.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he mumbles into his cup.

“Why are you being such a Debbie downer? We won!”

“You guys won. I got to sit there and watch.”

“Okay? You’re still five hundred richer than this morning.”

“Party over here?” Jungkook interrupts. He’s got a joint between his fingers and a beer bottle. “Before I forget, this is yours.”

He shoves an envelope into Mingyu’s hand, taking the open spot on the tailgate next to him before laying back and looking at the stars.

“I’m gonna grab another beer.”

Mingyu moves surprisingly fast when he wants to. Even with crutches on loose sand he’s back by his truck and waiting for you to leave.  

“What’s got sand in his swimsuit?” Jungkook asks. 

“He’s just… bummed about not playing. It’s fine.”

Jungkook snorts in disbelief. “You think that’s why he looks like a kicked puppy?”

“Then enlighten me, wise one.”

“Why do guys do anything?”

“Because you all lack basic brain function?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and takes another drink. “To impress girls.”

“I’ve seen your belching contests. Not exactly panty dropping material.”

“Okay obviously not that.”

You had no idea Mingyu meant to impress anyone today. He hadn’t mentioned it, usually he doesn’t need to. Some tourist in for the summer hanging off his every word gave clear intention where his interest laid but since his knee you saw all of zero prospects.

“You two are so fucking stupid,” Jungkoook snorts. “You, YN. He wanted to impress you.”

“That makes no sense.”

“He hasn’t had a real girlfriend since you two started living together.”

You take a long sip before answering.. “So? You haven’t had a real girlfriend ever.”

“Bitch.”

“Slut.”

“Mingyu wanted you two to win. Together,” he emphasises. “Because guys want to impress the girls they like.”

“Oh…oh.”

“Get it now?”

“How do you know?”

“If I have to have one more bro chat with him on how to tell you I’m going to take his crutches and beat him to death with them.”

“Got it.”

You despise the tiny part of you that screams like a little girl finding out her playground crush knows her name. He likes me! He likes me! She squeals, bubbling around your stomach like champagne. 

Drunk on the power itching at your fingertips, you turn to find Mingyu. He’s right where you know you’d find him, a log near the fire, tossing in tiny sticks and watching them disappear in the flames.

“Ready to leave?”

Mingyu nods and gets to his feet, crutches carrying him to his truck. You take the driver's seat and peel out of the lot. 

“How mad would you be if we took a detour?” you ask.

“I wanna go home,” he grunts, staring out the window.

“I want to celebrate with just you,” you share. “Please?”

He melts but clings to the stubborn tone. “Okay.”

Another night at the lookout except this time you’re the one cheering him up. You park his truck closer to the water, he can’t very well get in but you want him to be able to at least see the ocean. He hobbles around to the flatbed and plants his ass on the tailgate.

“I think I’m gonna swim.”

“Okay.”

You tug off your shirt, then your pants. Then your bra.

That’s what freezes Mingyu with bug eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Swimming,” you shrug. He catches your swim bottoms as you launch them at his chest. 

“Naked?” he squeaks.

“Who's gonna see?”

“Uhh, me?”

“So? Maybe I want you to.”

You step closer, hands on his spread thighs and squeeze. 

“What?”

Mingyu doesn’t look beneath your collarbone and you smirk.

“A little birdie told me you have a crush.”

His lips form around words but no sound comes out. Maybe you’re being unfair by standing between his legs completely naked, eying him expectantly.

“Do you?”

“I…” he chokes.

“Think about it,” you whisper. His lips are warm against yours, soft and yielding. Then, you turn to sprint towards the ocean.

Mingyu apparently comes back to himself quickly, sputtering and laughing as you disappear beneath the waves. “You can’t just do that!”

Late night swims aren’t as fun without him around to keep you warm. You dip under the water and come up with soaked hair. You only last five minutes before heading back to where he waits, all your nudity on display but Mingyu keeps his eyes on yours, beaming like an idiot.

The second you’re close enough he tugs you into his chest and kisses you. For real this time. There's more to it than simple payback. He kisses you long and hard, pours all his want into it and takes what you give him in return. His tongue rolls across your lip before you open your mouth, a moan bubbles from one of you.

“I can’t believe Hoshi got to kiss you before I did,” he sighs.

You nestle closer. Right into the warmth of his chest, the soft fabric of his baggy shirt and cologne better than anything else in the world. 

“What do you mean Hoshi kissed me before you did? You were my first kiss dingus.”

“What?”

“Ninth grade, Dokyeom’s parents went out of town and we raided the liquor cabinet.”

He stares back at you blankly. You’re still naked.

“You literally begged me to kiss you because you thought you had alcohol poisoning and would die.”

“Oh my god.”

You kiss his cheek and he loves it, pushing into your lips for more with a happy smile. 

“I knew you didn’t remember.”

You nuzzle down his neck, savoring the warmth of his skin against your mouth; nipping until he shudders. You want him as naked as you. But despite the beach being secluded it’s very much public and you don’t need to be caught the first time you get to kiss him.

“In my defense, I thought that was a dream.”

“How often do you dream of me kissing you?”

“Pretty often.”

“How often is that?”

“Almost every night.”

“You’re such a sap.”

He doesn’t deny it. He’s too busy cupping your face and kissing you again, less tongue and yearning; slings an arm around your waist forcing you infinitesimally closer. It’s sweet at first, lingering touch against your naked back. Catalogues the knobs of your spine with painstaking slowness. Lower. Your waist, the sway of your hips. Then he’s got his hand on your ass, a gentle squeeze of exploration, and you feel a little bit guilty such sweet kisses turn you on so much.

“Come on, let’s get home.”

You back away, snagging the blanket he pulled out earlier and hiding your body as he trails behind. “Are you gonna drive home naked? Because that’s a new fantasy I didn’t know I had.”

“How many fantasies do you have?”

“Where do you want me to start?”

“Calm down, Casanova,” you snort. You tug on the spare clothes collected in his truck; a holey, oil stained t-shirt and a pair of sweats. They smell like him.

“Hey.” Mingyu tugs your hand across the center seat and brings it to his lips. He’s blushy but it might just be from a long day beneath the sun. Or from the boner he’s not even attempting to hide. It’s cute. 

“Hey.”

“I do have a crush on you.”

“I kinda figured.”

“Since like high school.”

“Good,” you comment. “Same.”

An anticlimactic confession but it fits between the two of you. You’ve always been the black cat, a little more out of reach in terms of affection but Mingyu has enough words of affirmation for the both of you. You’re much more adept at showing him how you feel anyway. It’s why you’ve been playing nurse for the past week. 

He keeps your hands tangled the entire way home, slides closer on the bench seat so his side heats against yours. There aren’t many stop signs on the way home but the ones you do hit last longer than needed because Mingyu uses it as an excuse to tilt your face towards him and kiss you again and again. Your lips, your nose, between your brows; slowly, savoring every second.

He’s used to his crutches so getting into the house and locking the door takes only a blink. The other two aren’t home which is a blessing in a curse because in the dark of your room you realize it’s just you and Mingyu. No more barriers in the way, no one to interrupt. It’s unbearably awkward in a way it’s not been since you were nineteen and walked in on him rubbing one out of your shared bed at four in the afternoon.

“Um…”

“Yeah—”

“So,” you stutter. 

Mingyu takes it on himself to reign things in.

“You like me, right?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “And I like you. Well, love you and not just as my best friend but I probably shouldn’t say that—wait! Shit! I didn’t mean that. I mean I did mean that but I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Gyu.”

He collapses onto the corner of your bed, freaking himself out. Ripping his hands through his hair, continuing to panic. “Of course, I love you. You’re my best friend and—”

“Gyu.”

“And if you don’t want to try dating me that’s fine! I’d never make you do something you didn’t want to. I don't think I could, you’re pretty stubborn. Which I like! But—”

“Mingyu!”

“What?”

“Take a breath,” you command. You’re freaked out too but Mingyu’s worse at hiding his feelings. Always has been.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, just relax a little. Please. You’re freaking me out.”

A crash echoes from outside the door. Glass breaking and some loud curses of one drunken roommate and a decidedly sober sounding Dokyeom shushing him. 

“Sorry,” Mingyu whispers.

“So you love me, huh?”

“I—” he chokes, and then cuts himself off to nod.

Mingyu, who likes to pretend he’s cool and smooth, reduced to a tight bundle of nerves as he sits on the edge of your bed and waits for your response. He looks at his hands. They flex anxiously together as the silence stretches on. You decide on mercy.

“It’s okay. I love you, too.”

Mingyu’s head shoots up so fast you’re afraid he gives himself whiplash. All you can do is smile, embarrassed by the way he stares at you in awe.

“Really?” He’s already pulling you closer

Biting your lip to control the grin attempting to split your face in half, you nod gently. In his lap, you wrap your arms across his shoulders and say it again. It’s quiet outside the bubble you two have made for yourselves but you like his childish giggles as the only thing tickling your ears.

Innocent touching turns lewd in slow measures just like the beach. Your both more deliberate because getting Mingyu out of his pants is a team effort, underwear firmly in place because you haven’t decided if you’re going to fuck him yet. You want to. But they serve as reassurance you don't rush to a good ending. 

Your shirt comes off, then your pants. You shepherd him to the headboard. Fully naked in his lap, Mingyu traces his fingers over your softest parts. It makes you squirm enough you kiss him to break the itch in your gut from nearly innocent touching. But it only makes it worse. He kisses you with just enough vigor to tease; pulls you closer, a tight grip on your waist you’d struggle to break out of if the thought crossed your mind. A tug encourages your rutting against the hard tent of his underwear.

It’s so much better than anything else before. Mingyu seems to agree, panting and grunting against your throat. You could just do this. It’d be enough to come; more than, as Mingyu sinks down further in the pillows and sucks your nipple gently between his lips. His tongue rolls flat and hot against it before switching to the other one. Your jaw slacks, mouth dry from heavy breaths.

“F-fuck, Gyu.”

He sucks harder and your hips follow, the line of his cock beneath his boxers nothing short of incredible. You’re a little embarrassed from how wet you are. Wet enough to soak his briefs a shade darker. But Mingyu takes charge, manhandles you across his cock with painful friction that makes you limp and pliant.

“Oh my god, Mingyu,” you taper off in a moan. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“‘Mingyu, it’s gross!’” he mocks and then hisses from your teeth on his neck. “Not exactly a confidence boost.”

“Yeah, well, I only said that because I wanted to you to—fuck—fuck me.”

Fishing his cock out from his underwear, you lazily jerk him to full mast which takes only seconds. Mingyu bucks into the swipe of your thumb. You move to suck away the mess collecting there.

“Shit! Ow! Ow!” he winces.

Immediately, you’re off him. “What’s wrong? Is your leg okay?”

Mingyu grits his teeth, head falling back against the pillows. “You hit my leg.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry!”

“This isn’t sexy.” He sinks into the mattress, hands hiding his frustration. 

He’s laying in your bed, in only his underwear and the pale moonlight sneaking through the window. You couldn’t disagree more.

“I don’t know.” You kiss his cheek. “It's kinda hot.”

“Oh yeah, it’s great that the first time I get to do anything I can’t even make it good for you.”

“Now, that’s just ridiculous.”

“Stupid fucking leg.”

“Alright, calm down.” You can’t help but laugh. You try to stifle it but he hears it before you do and pouts even harder. “Maybe we should wait.”

He's got you back in his lap, wincing through the sudden pressure on his knee. “No, it's fine! I promise!”

“If it hurts it’s not fine,” you admonish. Mingyu doesn’t let you go though. You don’t really want him to. “Just lay back and relax, okay?”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna blow you  and then I’m gonna fuck you.”

You say it like a promise. Mingyu’s eyes widen, jaw dropping at your lewd threat. His cock twitches against your palm and you soothe it with a quick stroke. He ruts into it again.

“Oh.”

“Sound good?” you ask, another slick glide across the leaking tip. He’s shaking.

“Sounds great.”

You kiss down his front, raze a nipple with your teeth until he whines. Even with the order to relax his hands can’t stay still. On your back, in your hair, pulling at the sheets as you tongue across his abs. You’re nearly sent crashing to the floor while bruising his hip bone. 

This time, you’re extra careful when kneeling between his sprawled legs. Your ass high in the air for his pleasure, him sprawled out on the pillows for yours. He’s pretty. The moonlight slipping between the blinds casts him in a pale glow, lines of light crossing his body and illuminating all the best parts: tangled hair from your hands, swollen lips from your kissing, a splotchy hickey on his hip claiming him as yours.

His cock spills from the band of his underwear, hard and waiting. You keep watching as you suck the tip of it. His eyes open at that, watching you watching him and he can't decide if it's heaven or hell right there beneath you on the mattress.

“Oh my god.”

It’s slow work to roll his underwear down without jostling his bad knee but you distract him with teasing caresses of every newly revealed inch of skin. There isn’t much you haven’t seen but you’re eager to get reacquainted. Fingers, then lips, then soothing the sting of your teeth with some wet pecks. And then you draw his cock across your tongue for the first time and he jumps.

“Holy shit.”

“What?” you garble around a mouthful of cock. 

There isn’t really a good angle with his knee in consideration so the rhythm of your hand is lackluster at best. You make up for it with hollowed cheeks he can’t look away from, and he actually throbs between your swollen lips as your tongue traces every ridge and vein meticulously. Each time he starts to answer your question you suck the head until he whines.

“You’re…” he sighs. “this is gonna sound weird but I’ve only dreamed of you doing this since we were like sixteen.”

A brief break for the sake of your jaw gives you time to joke, “No pressure.”

“It’s already better than I thought if that means anything.”

“Stop being cute, I'm trying to suck your dick.”

You cut off his rebuttal with a swallow and his eyes nearly bug out from his skull at the sight. His hand rests on the back of your head, gathering your hair to keep it out of the way. “Is this…”

You nod enthusiastically before he even finishes his thought, mouth watering at the possibilities. You ache for it. You want him to call the shots and let you follow merrily behind, bent to his whim.

“Open your mouth, baby.”

You open wide for his cock to brush the back of your throat softly. Not too much just yet while he gathers the confidence to maneuver you the way he needs; the way he’s apparently been dying to for years. 

He’s got one hand on the back of your head, the other tangled in the sheets as you suck him rigid. Brace for a gentle gag, just enough for him to hear, and the taste of sticky pre-cum floods across your tongue. You get a few more drags of your tongue up the head of his cock before he leverages to grip in your head and pulls you off.

“Okay, okay. Stop.”

“What’s wrong? Is it your leg?”

Mingyu ignores your question. His only response is a sloppy kiss with too much tongue but you can’t fault him for it with the pleasant heat of his hands on your ass once more. 

“Wanna eat you out,” he grunts.

You snort at his optimism. “I can see some issues with that.”

He lifts you up his chest. It’s horrible that someone with a face like his is also a muscle pig who can bend you anyway he wants even with an injury; Jungkook fully to blame for too many workouts on the beach. Mingyu has you up his chest before you realize where this is going.

“Sit on my face.”

“I—” you blink. Porn isn’t a good reference for sex, not that you’ve seen much since the only TV sits in the living room. You’ve seen the magazines your friends buy as gag gifts though and the thought of Mingyu smothered in your cunt makes you sweat. “Are you sure?”

Apparently it’s a stupid question because Mingyu just pulls you further up until you’re kneeling over him and he’s got enough room to deliver soft licks to your core.

You don’t care how loud you’re being or the fact you share a wall with Dokyeom who doesn’t deserve to hear your pathetic moans in surround sound. Mingyu abuses your clit, sucks and licks and kisses with lewd vigor until you rut down into it.

You need a break. Just a second to regain sanity but Mingyu isn’t that generous. He holds you by your ass, palms it so hard you squeak as he moves you against his mouth, drops one hand when he’s confident you aren’t planning to run away again. The stretch of two thick fingers crook just right to have you seeing stars.

“Th-there.”

Mingyu hums into the sloppy mess of your cunt, holding steady as you fuck yourself along his face, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit. His head shakes back and forth and makes you whine to the ceiling fan. You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you, stretching and spreading until your stomach dips. He knocks every tight noise in your chest out with each rush.

“That’s…Just like that. Gyu, please.” You nails scratch against the wall aimlessly. He stretches and stretches, molds you to him and every one of his whims. 

Until all you can do is snap.

You’re wobbly on jelly knees, clit numb even while Mingyu suckles against it softly for your come down. You roll off carefully to sit bubbly and golden back in his lap. Eyes closed, you lean blindly into his space and squish his cheek with yours.

He’s just as messy as you feel. Face wet, choked breaths and racing pulse, you deflate against each other. The bloodlust for satisfaction lulls to a simmer. You use it to enjoy all the warm skin on skin contact.

Aftercare comes in the form of lips dragging over wherever either of you can reach, no energy for real kisses just savoring the lazy motion. The hands that plucked you into a whimpering mess massage your thighs, your back; pull and tangle his fingers between yours.

“When my knee is better I’m gonna do that for an hour.”

“Lucky me,” you huff. 

You find his mouth, suck his bottom lip between yours until he demands more. His cock rests against his stomach, hot to the touch. Gentle at first. Teasing with a light brush of your fingers. Then getting a tight grip around him until he bucks.

“Want you,” Mingyu groans, pulling you further up his thighs. “Wanna fuck you.”

On your knees, you position over him to do just that but he stops you.

“Condom?” 

Good thing at least one of you is thinking because you didn’t even think about it. Your nightstand drawer is barren, not even an empty box left. Not a single condom wrapper in sight.

“Fuck. Do you have any in your room?”

He doesn’t. Which means you’re at the mercy of your roommates and their ability to practice safe sex.

You tug Mingyu’s shirt over head but even if it hides your nudity you smell like sex and have the glow on your features to back it up. There’s flaking pre-cum and spit against your chin.Whatever, you’ve heard your roommates howling like dogs enough times to earn your own night of debauchery.

“Hosh.” You rap on his door but he doesn’t answer. When you open it he’s face down in the pillow, trash can close by. You watch just long enough for his chest to expand to make sure he isn’t dead before prodding him in the side.

“Wha? What?” he mumbles through drool.

“Condoms?”

He stares at you with all the sentience of rock before answering. “I can’t sleep with you, Mingyu will kill me.”

“You stupid bitch,” you sneer, slapping him with his own pillow. “Where are your condoms?”

Soonyoung buries himself back into his sheets. “I don’t have any.”

“Oh my god.”

You fly out of his tiger den and to Dokyeom’s door down the hall.

“Kyeom?” You knock. “Dude, are you awake?”

He actually answers the door. His bedside light is still on, some comic book left open on his bed. “Is someone dead?”

“No. Do you have a condom?”

“For who?”

Your eyes roll. “Me, dumbass.”

“Who’s the guy?” Dokyeom looks at you like he doesn’t believe it. Maybe the walls are more soundproof than you thought.

“Mingyu.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really! We can have girl time later, but I need a condom. Now.”

He forces his entire stash, an unopened 32-count box, into your hands before pushing you back into the hallway with a quiet ‘good luck.’

Your roommates are fucking weird.

Tucked back in the dark of your room, Mingyu is waiting.Blanket wrapped around his waist, propped against the headboard just like you left him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he smiles. He looks a little pathetic. 

“Did you know Dokyeom keeps a thirty-two pack in his room?” You hold up the evidence as proof.

“Apparently, he’s seeing some waitress at the Kellerman.”

“Enough times he needs a bulk box of rubbers?”

“Clearly not if he gave them to you.”

“I think it’s more like a ‘congrats on finally getting together’ present.”

“How thoughtful of him,” he snorts. “Now come over here. I missed you.” 

“Can’t have that, can we?” You kneel on the bed next to him. His hand sneaks up the back of your leg, beneath your shirt to cup your ass.

“Yeah, the doctors said it was bad for me.”

“Well if the doctors said…” You lose the thought in a gentle sigh against his mouth. Mingyu peels your shirt - his shirt - over head and banishes it to the floor. You're naked in his lap and he’s naked beneath you; it makes you clench.

He covers every inch of your naked skin in soft kisses, puffs of breath heating your neck as you stroke his cock hard enough to slip the condom on.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

You balance on shaky knees, sheathing him inside you in a slow descent. He wants to fuck up into you so badly. You can feel it in the way his hands squeeze on your hips, his stomach dips as you take more. Everything about Mingyu is big, including his cock. Big enough you could sit there all night and never get used to the stretch, or the way he whispers sweet praises into your temple.

Good girl. My favorite. Perfect for me.

When you finally bottom out, ass flat to his thighs, pressed tight to his chest, you whimper, “M-Mingyu.”

He groans into your cheek. “Love how you say my name.”

It’s all on you to make this good. You rock forward, instantly dissatisfied with the emptiness of your core and immediately moving to end the feeling. You grind on him and that feels better. He wedges deep and stays there; presses your buttons from the inside out as he mouths across your shoulder.

You’re so wet, soaked from his mouth, and his thumb takes advantage by gluing to your clit, tight circles that make you spasming. He guides you while nipping back up to your mouth, one hand heavy on your ass. 

“Oh, keep doing that,” he moans when your nails dig into his chest. 

The slap of skin against skin is background noise to grunts and groans and pathetic whines that meld between your mouths. Lightheaded, you aren’t even kissing, open mouths brushing against one another with narrowed vision. 

“Is it,” he gasps. “Is it bad if I ask you to turn around?”

“D-depends why you’re asking.”

“Wanna fuck you from behind. Wanna watch you take my cock.” He squeezes your ass to punctuate the request.

“Watch me like this.” You lean back, carefully to balance on the mattress and not his legs. Mingyu glues onto the unobstructed view down your front: your throat, your breasts, the way your cunt clings to his cock on the upstroke. “You like it?”

Hips finding a jilted rhythm, Mingyu snakes a hand up your chest and twists your nipple until you nearly collapse. “So good, it looks so good.”

“Next t-time,” you hiccup. “You can fuck me however you want. Want you to…fuck me from behind.”

He tugs the back of your neck. You collapse with the strength of his muscles and land nose to nose with him. 

“You’re so good— fuck, so tight for me. For me, yeah?”

You give a dumb nod, voice mute with the deep rhythm battering your walls.

“Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You can only nod again. Hair sticks to your sweaty face, a few rogue tears joining the mess Mingyu’s left on it.

“Say it, wanna hear you say it. Please.” He’s lost somewhere. Some desperate place that needs your validation.

You chant exactly what he wants to hear. Yours, yours, yours. A second duller bolt flashes through you, tensing every last muscle. Mingyu jolts from the tight squeeze gripping his cock. You give him the last sweep of your energy, bouncy wildly, fucking him quick and hard until your eyes cross.

“I’m—Mingyu, oh,” you whimper. You don’t stop even though your muscles object. Thrashing as you seize and come hot and wet. 

Mingyu’s got his hands to move you when your joints lock, a desperate race to his own end. He rubs you raw and red right to the core. You let him; still sobbing through the last pulses while he manhandles you over his cock roughly, slick with no resistance.

“Baby, fuck, feels so good,” he grovels, fucked out of his mind.

Your legs try to close, run away from the rush of even more stimulation, but Mingyu keeps you firmly pinned in place. He bites your neck, your shoulder, coming in thick breaths, hips stuttering while you sit there and take it. His fingers take advantage of the mess of your core but there's nothing left for you to give. Maybe later.

Mingyu gasps for air like he just did a deep dive. “Holy shit fuck.”

The touching doesn’t stop. You sweep your hands over his shoulders, cup his face, trace fingers of his stomach. Mingyu’s got one hand to keep you from pulling off his just yet, the other glued to the dip of your spine. Places forbidden to touch as just friends, now unlocked.

Condom in the trash, tissues for a quick clean up. You’re sticky in all the worst places but it’s a problem for later.

“So…when's our first date?” you ask him, cuddling back into the crook of his neck for the rest of the night.

“You. Me. Patty’s tomorrow morning.”

“Are you actually gonna pay for our food this time?”

Mingyu squeezes at your side, lips against your hairline. “You’re the one rolling in dough, Ms. Champion.”

“So I’m your sugar momma now?”

“That’s hot.”

The rebuttal dissolves on your tongue. You’re both deadweight. Sweaty and glowing in a pile of limbs, shivering beneath the ceiling fan. Mingyu is happy as your pillow, sweeping his hand over your back and hair as you crest sleep.

Turns out your room doesn’t get too hot with Mingyu sleeping in it if you’re both naked.

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[pucksandpower]

Malfunction

Franco Colapinto x physician!Reader

Summary: Franco’s concussion has come and gone, but his desire to see the angel of a physician who likely saved his life has only gotten stronger … it’s just a shame that he tends to lose any semblance of composure when you’re around

Note: this is the much requested second part to Malpractice … but even better than the first part if I do say so myself 🫣

The Las Vegas Grand Prix is a distant blur in Franco’s memory. The crash. The pain. The disorientation.

But there’s something else that lingers, too. Something soft that refuses to leave him alone.

It’s the image of you, kneeling in front of him, your hands steady even as his world spun. Your voice cutting through the haze, your gaze sharp and intense, demanding his attention. The way you pushed him to stay alert, to pay attention, to focus on something other than the chaos in his head.

Franco knows he owes his sanity, maybe even his life, to you.

It’s been a week since the crash, and he’s been cleared by the medical team to race again in Qatar, despite a lingering headache that’s been stubbornly hanging on. But it’s not the headache that’s bothering him. It’s the fact that you’re not here. You’re not at the track. Not in the garage. Not hovering over him like some kind of guardian angel.

He wants to see you again. Needs to.

He’s sitting in the Williams debrief room, surrounded by engineers who are talking a mile a minute about tire wear and lap times. But Franco is barely listening. He keeps checking his phone, hoping for some sort of miracle: a text, a call, anything that might tell him you’re here. That you’ve returned to the paddock.

But the screen stays empty.

“Franco, are you with us?” James Vowles’ voice cuts through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present.

“Yeah, sorry,” Franco mutters, rubbing his eyes. “What were you saying about tire strategy?”

James raises an eyebrow. “It’s fine. Focus on your recovery. We’re just going over the data from today’s practice. You’ve got time. But-” He looks around, making sure no one else is listening, “-don’t be distracted during qualifying tomorrow. We need every bit of performance we can get from you this weekend.”

“Right.” Franco nods, but his mind drifts again, his gaze slipping back to his phone. It’s like the rhythm of the weekend has been broken without you here, without the sharpness of your voice telling him he’s being an idiot, without your soft, steady presence making everything feel a little more manageable.

A soft knock sounds at the door, and Alex steps in, his casual smile immediately making the room feel a little lighter. His eyes flicker over to Franco. “How’s it going, mate?”

Franco immediately perks up. “Alex! You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He straightens up in his chair, suddenly interested in the conversation.

Alex raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that because you’ve missed me, or because I bring good news?”

“Both,” Franco grins. “But seriously, I’ve been thinking about something, and I need your help.”

Alex folds his arms, giving Franco a knowing look. “Uh oh. What have you gotten yourself into now?”

“It’s about Y/N,” Franco says, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t seem too surprised. He sighs, already knowing where this is headed. “Ah, I should’ve known.”

“No, listen,” Franco presses, his voice a little more serious. “I need her to come to Abu Dhabi. She has to be there. I-” He pauses, trying to put his feelings into words. “I’ve been thinking about her all week. I just … I need to see her again.”

Alex raises both hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. You want me to convince her to come to a race just so you can see her again?”

Franco shrugs, looking entirely unapologetic. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

Alex shakes his head, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. “You really have it bad, don’t you?”

Franco hesitates, his smile faltering just slightly, then nods. “I do.” His expression softens. “She helped me when I didn’t even know what was happening. I’ve never had someone take care of me like that.”

Alex takes a moment, studying Franco’s face, then lets out a long breath. “Look, I can’t make any promises. Y/N’s a resident physician. Her schedule is insane. She barely has time to breathe, let alone fly out to the Middle East for a race. But-” He hesitates, as if weighing his next words carefully. “But I’ll ask her. I’ll see what I can do. But no promises, okay?”

“Just ask,” Franco says urgently. “I don’t care if it’s a long shot. I need her there.”

Alex chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I’ll ask. But you owe me a beer if this works.”

“You got it,” Franco grins, already feeling the relief of having put his request into motion. “Thanks.”

***

It’s late by the time you’re wrapping up your shift at the hospital. The weight of your scrubs feels heavier than usual tonight, your body aching after hours of rounds and consultations. You’ve barely slept all week, the demands of your residency taking up every last ounce of energy. All you want to do now is crash into bed and forget about the world for a few hours.

But then your phone buzzes in your pocket, and the familiar name on the screen makes you stop in your tracks.

Alex.

You sigh, glancing around the empty hallway before answering. “Hey, Alex. What’s up?”

“Hey,” Alex greets you, his tone casual but there’s a hint of something else in his voice. “How’s it going?”

You roll your eyes, leaning against the wall. “You know, same old. Patients, paperwork, more patients. I swear, I’m starting to see people’s illnesses in my dreams at this point. What’s up?”

“Well, funny you should mention that,” Alex says with a chuckle, “because I’ve got a bit of a favor to ask.”

You brace yourself. “What now?”

“I need you to come to Abu Dhabi.”

There’s a beat of silence. “What? No. I can’t just drop everything and fly to Abu Dhabi. You know how insane my schedule is right now.”

“I know, I know,” Alex says quickly. “But listen, it’s not for me. It’s for Franco.”

You blink, unsure if you heard him right. “Franco? What does he have to do with this?”

“He, uh, well, he’s been asking about you. He really wants you to come. He … he kind of needs you there, Y/N.”

You frown. “Needs me? What, like for a medical emergency?”

“No, no,” Alex quickly reassures you. “It’s not like that. He’s just — he’s been a bit, you know, off since the crash. He keeps talking about how much you helped him, how much he needs to see you again. He’s … kinda, well, taken with you.”

You pause, processing the unexpected request. “Wait. You want me to go to Abu Dhabi just to … see Franco?”

Alex sighs. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I totally get it if you can’t make it. I just thought I’d put it out there, because he’s really … well, he’s really worried about seeing you again.”

You take a deep breath, staring at the floor. There’s a tug at your chest. Franco’s crash. The way he looked when he stumbled into the garage, his eyes unfocused, his voice thick with concussion. And how you couldn’t help but care, couldn’t help but feel something stir in your chest as you took care of him.

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I don’t know if I can get time off. I’ve got a million things to do.”

“Please,” Alex pleads, his tone sincere. “Just think about it. I’ll take care of the rest. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just — just come for the weekend. For him.”

You hesitate for a long moment. Your exhaustion is overwhelming, but so is the pull to be there for Franco, to check in on him after everything that happened.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Alex lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to him.”

“I’ll talk to my supervisor tomorrow and see if I can get a couple of days off. I’ll let you know.”

“Great. I’ll keep you posted. Thanks again, really.”

As the call ends, you press the phone to your ear, staring at the blank hospital hallway. Something in your chest stirs, a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite name. You promised yourself you wouldn’t get involved with any of these drivers. But Franco … there’s something about him. Something you can’t shake.

You don’t know what’s going to happen in Abu Dhabi. But you know one thing for sure: you’re going to see him again.

***

Franco is buzzing with energy as he walks away from the Williams garage after FP2. The track is alive with its usual Friday hum: team radios squawking, mechanics wheeling equipment, fans pressing against barricades for a glimpse of the action. Normally, this is his favorite part of the weekend — the calm between sessions when he can breathe and think through what’s next.

But today, his thoughts are miles away.

You.

Alex told him you’d agreed to come. He’s spent all week mentally preparing for this moment, imagining what he’ll say when he sees you again. He’d told himself he’d play it cool. That he wouldn’t come off as desperate or weird. That he’d be charming and effortless.

And now, as he walks toward the Williams motorhome, he’s running through those lines in his head like a script. But then, through the glass doors of the motorhome, he spots you.

You’re sitting at a table with Lily, wine glasses between you. You’re mid-laugh, one hand lightly gesturing, the other wrapped around the stem of your glass. The sound of your laugh doesn’t reach him, but your expression — warm and animated — is enough to stop him in his tracks.

Franco stares, frozen. For a second, he’s not a professional driver or a smooth-talking twenty-one-year-old. He’s just a guy, floored by the sight of someone he’s been thinking about far too much.

And then, because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, he walks straight into the glass door.

The sound is embarrassingly loud — a deep, resonant thud that draws the attention of a couple of mechanics nearby. Franco stumbles back, clutching his forehead as the door wobbles slightly on its hinges.

“Oh, come on,” he mutters under his breath, blinking rapidly to clear the stars dancing in his vision.

Inside, Lily gasps, already half out of her chair. But you — you just press a hand to your mouth, visibly trying to suppress a laugh.

Franco pushes the door open this time (successfully, thank God) and steps into the motorhome, trying to salvage whatever remains of his dignity.

“Didn’t know the motorhome was defending itself today,” he says, flashing a crooked grin as he rubs his forehead.

You’re still smiling, but there’s a glint in your eyes as you take a sip of wine. “I see you’re still finding creative ways to injure yourself.”

Lily, standing now, gives him a once-over. “Are you okay? That sounded bad.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Franco says quickly, though he’s still holding his head. “Just testing the structural integrity of the door. Very solid. Great engineering.”

Lily rolls her eyes, muttering something about grabbing an ice pack before disappearing into the kitchen.

You lean back in your chair, tilting your head as you look at him. “You know, you really don’t have to keep hurting yourself just to get my attention. There are easier ways.”

Franco blinks, momentarily thrown off by the teasing edge in your voice. But then he recovers, his grin widening. “Oh, so you noticed me, huh? Mission accomplished.”

You arch an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Hard not to notice when someone face-plants into a door.”

“Ouch,” Franco says, clutching his chest dramatically. “First my head, now my ego. You’re ruthless.”

You laugh, setting your glass down. “I’m a doctor. I call it like I see it.”

“And what do you see?” He asks, leaning casually against the doorframe (or at least trying to — he slightly misjudges the angle and has to correct himself, which makes him look anything but casual).

“I see someone who might need another concussion test if they keep this up,” you say dryly, though there’s a hint of amusement in your tone.

Franco seizes the opening. “Oh, you’ll give me a test? What, right here? Should I sit down? Or maybe lie down? Whatever you need, angel, I’m ready.”

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch. “I’m off-duty, thank you very much. And stop calling me angel.”

“Why? It suits you,” Franco says without missing a beat. He steps closer, his grin turning just a bit sheepish. “You did save me, after all.”

“From driving with a concussion,” you reply, crossing your arms.

“Still counts,” he says, shrugging. “So … you’re really here. Thought maybe Alex was messing with me.”

You tilt your head, watching him carefully. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, for fun? He likes to mess with me,” Franco says, his grin turning rueful. “But I’m glad he wasn’t. It’s … it’s good to see you.”

Your expression softens, and you glance down briefly before meeting his eyes again. “It’s good to see you too.”

For a moment, there’s a silence between you. Not awkward, but charged. Franco shifts his weight, scratching the back of his neck. He’s been preparing for this moment all week, but now that you’re standing in front of him, he’s at a loss.

Lily reappears then, an ice pack in hand. She tosses it to Franco, who catches it against his chest. “Here,” she says. “For the door-shaped bruise you’re probably going to have.”

“Thanks,” Franco says, pressing the pack to his forehead. He winces slightly but keeps his gaze on you.

Lily looks between the two of you, her lips twitching as if she’s trying not to laugh. “Well, I’ll leave you two to … whatever this is,” she says, grabbing her glass and retreating toward the other end of the motorhome.

Franco watches her go, then looks back at you, his smile softening. “So … you’re here for the whole weekend?”

You nod. “Lily convinced me to stay. Said I needed a break.”

“You do,” Franco says quickly. “Definitely. Big time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because …” Franco hesitates, then decides to go for it. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Vegas.”

You blink, caught off guard by his honesty. “Franco-”

“I’m serious,” he interrupts, stepping closer. “I know I’m probably coming off like a total idiot right now, but I don’t care. You-” He gestures vaguely, as if struggling to find the right words. “You’re different. You’re not like anyone else here.”

“That’s because I’m not supposed to be here,” you say, your tone light but your eyes searching his. “I’m a doctor, Franco. Not meant for … whatever this world is.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head. “You could be anything, and I’d still want to know you. You’re …” He trails off, then laughs at himself. “God, I’m bad at this.”

You laugh too, finally relaxing. “A little, yeah.”

“But I’m trying,” he says, his expression earnest now. “And I’ll keep trying, even if it means walking into more doors. Or walls. Or whatever else gets in my way.”

You shake your head, exasperated but undeniably charmed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously into you,” Franco counters, grinning.

You groan, but your smile betrays you. “Stop. That was awful.”

“Was it?” Hr teases, leaning just slightly closer.

“Yes,” you say firmly, though there’s a hint of laughter in your voice. “And I’m not letting you use your injuries as an excuse to flirt with me.”

“Then what excuse should I use?” He asks, tilting his head.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now. “How about none? Just be normal.”

“Normal,” Franco repeats, as if testing the word. “Okay. I can do that. Probably.”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” you say, but your tone is lighter now, your guard lowering just a fraction.

Franco grins, sensing the shift. He might not be smooth, but he’s persistent. And right now, that feels like enough.

***

The hospital hums with its usual rhythm: the sharp beeps of monitors, the steady shuffle of footsteps, and the occasional murmur of voices echoing down sterile hallways. You’re halfway through your shift, mentally cataloging a growing to-do list, when one of the nurses finds you near the break room.

She looks far too amused for your liking, a sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Hey, Doc,” she says, her tone conspiratorial. “You’ve got a patient in Room 43. Interesting case. File’s by the door.”

You glance up from your notes, immediately suspicious. “Interesting how?”

“Let’s just say … not your usual trauma,” she replies, her grin widening. “Go see for yourself.”

With a sigh, you grab your tablet and head down the hallway. You’re too tired to entertain the nurse’s cryptic humor, but curiosity tugs at you anyway. When you reach Room 43, you spot the chart hanging by the door. You pick it up and start skimming, your brain automatically processing the medical shorthand.

And then your eyes land on the complaint: penile fracture.

You freeze. Your brain short-circuits for a good five seconds.

Penile fracture. Seriously? You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to laugh or groan. It’s not unheard of, but it’s rare enough to make your day a little more … colorful.

Squaring your shoulders, you prepare yourself for what’s undoubtedly going to be an awkward encounter. Professionalism, you remind yourself. You’ve handled weirder cases.

But all of that resolve shatters the second you open the door and step into the room.

Because the patient isn’t some anonymous stranger.

It’s Franco.

Franco, lounging on the exam table like he doesn’t have a care in the world, scrolling through his phone with his free hand. Franco, the same man you’ve been dating for months, who absolutely should not be in this hospital room right now.

Your mouth opens, ready to deliver your standard introduction, but no words come out.

Franco looks up at the sound of the door, his face breaking into that familiar, devilish grin. “Hey, angel.”

“What the-” You stop yourself, gripping the edge of the clipboard like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. “Franco, what are you doing here?”

He sets his phone down, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m a patient. Clearly.”

You take a deep breath, setting the clipboard aside. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope.” He leans back slightly, gesturing toward himself with both hands. “Broken dick. You saw the file.”

Your jaw tightens as you step closer, lowering your voice. “Franco, this is a hospital. You can’t just-”

“I didn’t just anything,” he cuts in, feigning indignation. “I’m here because you abandoned me this morning. And now I’m suffering.”

You blink at him, completely thrown. “Suffering?”

“Yes!” He says, sitting up straighter, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrays any attempt at seriousness. “You left me. Alone. In bed. With …” He lowers his voice dramatically. “An issue.”

Your brain scrambles to keep up. “An issue?”

Franco sighs, as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “Blue balls. A raging, unresolved situation. You’re a doctor — you know how dangerous that can be.”

“Dangerous?” Your voice rises slightly before you catch yourself. “Franco, I left because I had to come to work. Like a normal person.”

“Right, but normal people don’t leave their boyfriends high and dry,” he argues, his tone edging into the realm of petulant. “Do you know how much it hurts? It’s practically a medical emergency.”

You close your eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So let me get this straight,” you say slowly. “You’re here because you have blue balls. And instead of — oh, I don’t know — handling it with your hand and some lotion like a grown adult, you decided to come to my workplace and waste everyone’s time?”

“I don’t see it as wasting time,” Franco says, crossing his arms. “I see it as seeking expert care. From a very qualified, very beautiful doctor.”

“Franco,” you say warningly, but he’s already grinning.

“Besides,” he continues, his voice dropping into a teasing lilt, “don’t you think it’s romantic? I’m literally willing to suffer for you.”

“Oh my God.” You press a hand to your forehead, feeling a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You are not suffering. And this is not romantic — it’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously sweet,” Franco counters, clearly enjoying himself.

You stare at him, torn between wanting to strangle him and laugh. “You know I could get in trouble for this, right? What if someone finds out I’m treating my boyfriend? Or worse, that you’re faking a medical emergency?”

“I’m not faking,” he says quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “The pain in my cock is very real.”

“Franco.” Your voice is flat, and you fix him with your best no-nonsense look.

He hesitates for a beat, then leans forward slightly, lowering his voice like he’s about to confess something scandalous. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a fracture. But it is painful!”

You throw your hands up, resisting the urge to laugh despite yourself. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”

Franco pouts, his lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated fashion. “Come on, angel. Don’t be mad. I just wanted to see you.”

“You couldn’t have waited until my shift was over?”

He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m impatient. And in my defense, you looked very cute leaving this morning.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me,” he says, his grin widening.

“Don’t push your luck,” you warn, though there’s no real bite in your tone.

Franco leans back on the exam table, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who just disrupted your workday. “So … are you gonna examine me or what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Do you want me to call security? Because that’s where this is headed.”

“You wouldn’t,” he says, his confidence unwavering.

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Franco holds your gaze for a moment, then sighs dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. No exam. But only because I value our relationship.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, not even trying to hide your sarcasm.

He grins again, the kind of grin that’s always been your undoing. “You can’t stay mad at me, angel. Admit it.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts. “Franco, you’re lucky I like you. Otherwise, you’d be on your way out of here in handcuffs.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he smirks. “Kinky.”

“Oh, for the love of-” You don’t bother finishing the sentence, turning toward the door instead.

“Wait, wait!” Franco calls after you, sliding off the exam table. “I’m kidding! Don’t go!”

You pause, looking back at him. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets, his expression softer now. “Seriously,” he says. “I just … I missed you. And I thought maybe this would make you laugh. Or at least roll your eyes. Which it did, so … mission accomplished?”

You sigh, feeling your resolve waver. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s looking at you like that — like you’re the only person in the world who matters.

“Franco,” you say, your voice quieter now. “You can’t just show up like this. I have a job to do.”

“I know,” he says, stepping closer. “And I promise I won’t make a habit of it. But … can I take you to dinner after your shift? As an apology?”

You study him for a moment, weighing your options. Finally, you let out a small sigh. “Fine. But only if you promise to behave.”

“I promise,” he says quickly, holding a hand over his heart.

“And no more faking injuries,” you add, pointing a finger at him.

“Scout’s honor,” he says, though the mischievous glint in his eye suggests otherwise.

You shake your head, exasperated but smiling. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, you keep me around,” he says, grinning.

“For now,” you say, opening the door. “Now get out of here before someone sees you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Franco says, saluting playfully as he follows you into the hallway.

As he walks away, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Ridiculous as he is, there’s no denying that life with Franco is never boring.

[a-witches-riddle]

But… that’s not in character??? Why the hell would Vi EVER give up on her sister if she knew she could be saved? The reason why she gave up on Jinx at the start it pretty cut and dry and reasonable. After cementing herself as Jinx, threatening to kill Caitlyn, and making the choice to nuke the council, I get Vi giving up on Jinx and even making the decision to kill her, with the asterisk of her being the one to do it. Which yeah, is in character and going good for the first three episodes. I won’t comment on the several out of character choices because that would detract from this discussion. But anyways, flash forward to episode 6, Vi and Jinx had made up, bonded over the fact that Vander is alive (if you want to call what Warwick is alive), and everything is going well. When she learns that Jinx was thrown in a cell, she’s furious, angry, and breaks her out, seeing how mentally devastated and broken Jinx is. She was self harming, refusing to eat, had entirely mentally given up due to the death of Isha being the catalyst.

Once Jinx leaves, and mentions how she’s going to break the cycle, and HEAVILY IMPLYING to Vi that she’s going to kill herself, which lo and behold she was, of fucking course Vi is going to break and want to try saving her sister again. Old habits die hard with her. What WOULD HAVE been in character, is have Vi still have the breakdown to Caitlyn, but have Caitlyn encourage Vi to get her sister back, to be there for her considering Caitlyn seems to have had a change of heart about Jinx. The sex scene was too soon, and should have happened later. These characters still had so much emotional baggage to work through, both with each other and themselves over what happened in the past 6 episodes that there is no way what she did being a “selfish decision” was at all an in character decision. Once again, this was the result of bad pacing, an overstuffed plot, and expediting character arcs for the sake of having a rushed finale, because we needed Caitlyn and Vi together so we could do our epic finale battle.

Would I believe that Vi would give up on Jinx EVENTUALLY? Maybe, but literally 5 seconds after Jinx leaves, she accepts the fact that she doesn’t want to bother saving her sister and fucks Caitlyn, which by the way, there still feels like we need a larger conversation between those two over everything that happened between episodes 3-6. We just… didn’t get that. Just like how they cut out any conversation between Ekko and Jinx, and instead do a surprise reveal of the two at the final battle for the “omg wow” shock factor, when we SHOULD HAVE had that conversation. They could have made all of this work, but they NEEDED to pace it well, which they absolutely did not.

good for them but lmfao ???

[nemisuki]

Good Soup

Fantasy AU | In a world of whimsical wonders and magic, the only thing you're curious about is why the blonde suddenly got shy at a simple goodnight. The language barrier between them is what keeps them closer. 

᧔o᧓ || Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader, no manga spoilers, no nsfw, pure fluff, no angst, aged up, mutual feelings, split pov, language barriers, bkg learning english, silly bestie kirishima included, love confessions gone wrong, oneshot, bkg is a softie, 2.1k word count

"Go on! You can do it!"

An encouraging smile forms on her face. Her hands clasping together as she practically jumps up and down from mere excitement that he finally agreed to her request. 

Her eyes are completely on him, not wanting to look away. 

It takes a moment for Bakugo to register her words. Attempting to recall what she's been teaching him. 

He assumes she's saying something encouraging, given that bright smile of hers.

He can't believe he's doing this. If it was anyone else he wouldn't even be attempting this shit. But one look at her excited expression made his mind think otherwise.

Plus she's been bothering him about this for weeks now. 

Under his breath, he grumbles a handful of curses in his native language, courtesy of his tribe. He switches his weight onto the other foot, crossing his arms over his chest.

She is quick to notice his sudden fidgeting. A sign of discomposure.

But she thinks it's charming. So she'll keep it to herself.

Y/N takes a step forward in his direction, softening her eyes at the sight of him. Realizing she may have unknowingly put too much pressure on him, "Oh I'm sorry! You don't have too, if you don't want to-"

"N-ɳαɱҽ.... αɾҽ... Bαƙυɠσ Kαƚʂυƙι...."

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

Her heart hastens at the sound of his deep voice. His slow and hesitant words echoing in her ear. The foreign accent made her skin tingle with bliss.

After his words, she lets a few giggles escape her lips. Not directed at him, but because the way he avoids eye contact was simply adorable.

She can tell he tried his best.

"Almost!" she says while gently taking a hold of his hand. His body tensing as she makes physical contact.

His eyes darted back and forth between her hand and delicate eyes. She speaks gradually to correct his wording, "my name.... is.... bakugo katsuki.”

She nods in his direction for him to try again.

The sensation of her much smaller hand holding his, the warmth of it, gives him an odd sense of tranquility.

How stupid.

"M-Mყ ɳαɱҽ ιʂ Bαƙυɠσ Kαƚʂυƙι"

"Yes! You did it!"

She squeals with delight. Having to restrain herself from pulling him into a hug. Knowing he'll probably shove her off not a moment after.

So instead she simply squeezes his hand. Honestly a bit shocked he hasn't pulled away yet-

Without warning, she can feel his fingers slowly intertwine with her own. Causing a shiver to go up her spine. 

What is he...

"Gσσԃ.... ɠσσԃ ɱσɾɳιɳɠ"

Huh?

Y/N stares at the blonde, now perplexed at his words. He must've picked it up from their travels together. But does he know what it means? It's not morning but night time.

She tilts her head and lets out a small laugh. How refreshing.

"Hm? Did you mean goodnight?"

The tips of his ears quickly turn red as he hears her laughter.

“Gσσԃɳιɠԋƚ" he says, tightening his grip on her hand. Looking into her eyes, now a bit more sincere with his words.

"Ah- you're going to sleep already? I suppose you do sleep early" she hums while nodding in his direction.

"Goodnight Bakugo!"

She's about to pull away yet his grip on her doesn't lessen. His eyes slightly widening at her words.

The blush from his ears immediately spreads across his cheeks in a light dust of pink.

"G-Gσσԃɳιɠԋƚ Bαƙυɠσ?" he mumbles to her in slight disbelief.

"Huh? Uh- yeah... Goodnight Bakugo" she says now bewildered by his reaction.

He doesn't move for a few seconds but then his own eyes soften. Completely catching her off guard.

She's never seen such a calm look on his face. And she didn’t know how she lived up til now without seeing it. 

Y/N watches as he pulls his hand away from hers. Now feeling cold without the physical contact. Her fingers twitch, wanting to feel that warmth again.

He takes a hold of the red necklace that's resting along his collarbone. Tugging it off and draping it over her head instead. Lifting her hair so it could sit perfectly around her neck.

She can feel her cheeks warm up at the gesture, "what- your giving this necklace to me? But it's yours" she says, looking down at the red pendants hanging off the black string.

"ʏ/ռ Gσσԃɳιɠԋƚ"

His hand lifts up to gently touch her flushed cheek. Only making her more bashful by the minute. 

What's up with him?

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ  ⎯⎯ ✦

The next morning was quite chaotic.

Y/N emerges from their tent, still feeling drained from her sleep. They’ve been traveling a lot recently and haven’t had the chance to rest up properly. 

She steps over to the campfire, joining Bakugo and Kirishima for some breakfast. Seems like the blonde is cooking some soup. 

"Hi you two" she says, yawning and attempting to rub her eyes awake.

She didn’t even have the time to sit down when-

"Y/N?! Why are you wearing Bakugos necklace?!" Kirishima quickly whispers to her, looking baffled and sending a suspicious look her way. 

Kirishima was completely fluent in the English language unlike Bakugo. Apparently when dragon kind are mere fledglings, they're especially quick to pick up multiple languages.

Hence this left Kirishima to be the translator for the trio. 

The duo found Y/N a few months ago, a rogue traveler who enjoyed exploring the world. She practically clung to the two after they helped her take out some bandits, who previously attempted to steal her rare items such as unicorn hair and some potions. 

She grew fond of the duo and decided to tag along ever since. At first Bakugo was completely against the idea. But the red haired dragon took a quick liking to her. So against Bakugos will, Kirishima allowed her to join them.

And so they’ve been traveling together since then. Exploring the world and taking on quests for gold. 

For now they needed rest, so they set up a little camp for a few days. 

"Huh? Oh this!" her hand gently traced over the variety of red beads. A sheepish smile sneaked on her face as she recalled yesterday's events, "Bakugo gave it to me last night when you went out to collect more firewood.”

The blonde ignores the whispered chatter behind him, continuing to stir the pot of soup around. Well not like he could understand what they are saying anyways. 

Meanwhile, Kirishima practically jumps out of his seat from her words. Looking at Y/N as if she had two heads.

"Kirishima? What's wrong?"

"You're telling me Bakugo willingly gave that to you?! Did he tell you anything else?!"

"Uh- well... he just told me goodnight is all"

"Goodnight?"

But before she could respond, Bakugo was already walking towards them. Holding two bowls of warm soup and handing one to Kirishima. 

His head then turns to look at Y/N, holding the other out to her. He seems to be in thought, trying to recall the right words to say, "...ԋι... ʂσυρ... ϝσɾ ყσυ?"

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

"Good Morning Bakugo! Ah thank you so much" she takes the warm bowl and looks back up at him. Feeling her body tingle with joy. A warm smile displayed across her face. 

Kirishima's eyes are practically bulging out of his sockets as he looks between the two. Having a sudden realization.

He quickly looks in Bakugos direction and starts speaking in their native tongue. 

"BαƙυႦɾσ! Aɾҽ ყσυ ƚɯσ σϝϝιƈιαʅ?!"

The blonde's mood suddenly switches as he stares at Kirishima. Immediately soured at the dragons words, "Tƈԋ ɳσɳҽ σϝ ყσυɾ ԃαɱɳ Ⴆυʂιɳҽʂʂ ʂԋιƚƚყ ԋαιɾ!"

"Hσʅყ ƈɾαρ ყσυ αɾҽ! Yσυ ɠαʋҽ ԋҽɾ ყσυɾ ɳҽƈƙʅαƈҽ αɳԃ ιƚʂ ƚɾαԃιƚισɳ ιɳ ყσυɾ ƚɾιႦҽ ƚσ ɠιʋҽ ιƚ ƚσ ყσυɾ σɳҽ ƚɾυҽ ʅσʋҽ! Cσɳɠɾαƚʂ ɱαɳ!" he shines an excited grin and pats Bakugos back encouragingly. His wings fluttered involuntarily with pure delight.

"Hαɳԃʂ σϝϝ ԃαɱɳ ιƚ!" Bakugo yells back, trying to shove his hand away. Followed by a couple of empty threats directed at the red head. 

After a few seconds, confusion suddenly dawns on Kirishima. He takes a peek back at Y/N who is sitting down on a log calmly eating her soup. Already used to the twos bickering so much that it doesn't faze her. 

"Wαιƚ, ԋσɯ ԃιԃ ყσυ ƚɯσ ҽʋҽɳ ƈσɳϝҽʂʂ? Dιԃ ყσυ ƚҽʅʅ ԋҽɾ ιɳ Eɳɠʅιʂԋ?"

"Lιƙҽ I ʂαιԃ Ⴆҽϝσɾҽ! Nσɳҽ σϝ ყσυɾ Ⴆυʂιɳҽʂʂ!"

"Aɯ ƈ'ɱσɳ BαƙυႦɾσ! I'ɱ ƈυɾισυʂ!"

The blonde lets out an annoyed sigh. Knowing Kirishima won't stop his pestering anytime soon unless he answers. So reluctantly he speaks in a quiet grumble, "I ʂαιԃ.... goodnight ƚσ ԋҽɾ"

A moment of silence passes between the two. 

Kirishima tries processing his words but he furrows his brows completely lost, "Uԋ σƙαყ? Sσ ɯԋҽɳ ԃιԃ ყσυ ƈσɳϝҽʂʂ ƚσ ԋҽɾ?"

"Hαԋ? I ʝυʂƚ ƚσʅԃ ყσυ ʂԋιƚƚყ ԋαιɾ!"

"Wαιƚ- ɯԋαƚ?! Nυ υԋ!"

"I ƚσʅԃ ԋҽɾ goodnight! Aɳԃ ʂԋҽ ʂαιԃ ιƚ Ⴆαƈƙ!"

"Hσʅԃ σɳ, ԋσʅԃ σɳ! BαƙυႦɾσ! Wԋαƚ ԃσ ყσυ ƚԋιɳƙ goodnight ɱҽαɳʂ?"

"Eԋ? Wԋαƚ ƚყρҽ σϝ ϙυҽʂƚισɳ ιʂ ƚԋαƚ! Iƚ ɱҽαɳʂ I ʅσʋҽ ყσυ ιɳ ҽɳɠʅιʂԋ!"

Kirishima couldn't believe what he was hearing. From Bakugo out of all people. 

The dragon practically bursts into a fit of laughter. Holding his stomach and wiping tears from his eyes that started to form at this revelation.

Bakugo stares at him baffled then a look of embarrassment forms on his face,"ԃσɳ'ƚ ƚҽʅʅ ɱҽ-"

"D-Dυԃҽ! Goodnight ԃσҽʂɳ'ƚ ɱҽαɳ I ʅσʋҽ ყσυ ιɳ ҽɳɠʅιʂԋ!" Kirishima manages to say in between his relentless giggles.

"Mρԋ-" Bakugo quickly turns around to hide his face. He couldn't believe it. But it makes sense now, last night's look of confusion on her face.

The way she went straight to the tent after he gave her the necklace. He just assumed she was just as shy as he was. 

"Hey what are you two talking about?" Y/N says walking in their direction with a look of interest in her eyes. 

"Nothing, just Bakugo thinking he confessed-"

At the sound of his voice, the blonde spins around and slaps the back of Kirishima's head. Not understanding much but knowing he's up to no good. Making the dragon stop mid sentence to whine and rub his scalp.

Bakugo eyes travel to Y/N, more specifically the necklace around her neck. His necklace. 

He huffs and points at the piece of jewelry. Then proceeds to open his hand at her. Asking for it back silently.

He waits, expecting her to hand it back. 

The blonde was beyond embarrassed that she didn't understand his motivates yesterday. Thankfully she seemed oblivious to it all. 

In his tribe, it's tradition for males to pass on their necklaces to their lover, signifying eternal devotion and trust. Yet the two weren't official after all like he originally thought. 

He'll just give it to her another time. When he learns how to properly confess.

But then all his thoughts pause when he sees Y/N pouting and shaking her head no. Holding the necklace closer to her body so he can't snatch it away.

"I want to keep it please" she says softly to him, hearing her own heartbeat in her ears from the nerves. She doesn't know why he wants it back, but she feels closer to him this way. It's the first thing he's ever given her.

Kirishima being the third wheel, quickly translates to Bakugo with a sly grin.

Bakugo listens then lets out a sigh of defeat. Waving his hand dismissively to her, allowing Y/N to keep it. She smiles brightly and nods towards him, “thank you bakugo!” 

He grunts in response and walks away to serve himself a bowl of soup. Or perhaps to hide the flushed look on his face. 

One day he'll learn how to confess. Maybe he’ll ask Kirishima for some help later on. 

What a pain.

But little did the blonde know.

Y/N was already planning to ask Kirishima the same thing. Trying to learn Bakugos native language in hopes of confessing her feelings. 

Kirishima could only bite back his tongue to hide his knowing smile. Looking at the oblivious pair as they all eat breakfast around the campfire.

Though he couldn't help but to let out a small chuckle at the sheer coincidence of it all.

"Hm? What's so funny Kirishima?"

He dismissively waves his hands at Y/N's comment and smirks, "nothing at all, just realized I forgot to say goodnight to you yesterday" he says, holding back a laugh as Bakugos head snaps in his direction. 

The blonde sends Kirishima a deadly glare. Standing up to teach him a lesson. Seems Bakugo reached his daily limit of the redheads teasing, "Yσυɾ ԃҽαԃ ʂԋιƚƚყ ԋαιɾ!"

That's how Kirishima ends up hiding behind her as Bakugo stomps towards the two. Leaving poor Y/N as a human shield.

She still has no idea what's going on but laughs alongside Kirishima as the three chase each other around the campfire. 

What a good day…. and night?

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ     ⎯⎯ ✦

A/N ||| This fanfic was inspired by a Fantasy Bakugo x Reader piece I read a LONGGGG time ago on Wattpad. When I was younger, I was obsessed with this fic as a newbie reader & mha fan. Unfortunately it never had a proper ending, as it's incomplete like many other forgotten fanfics out there. I’ll add the link here to credit them but please remember it's INCOMPLETE! And the author won’t update it anymore so fyi! This was oddly healing to my younger self, kinda funny how I went from being a reader to the writer :)

[himbosandhardwear]

"Look who's talking, Mr Ponytail and a Crop Top," Steve says with a smartass grin.

Eddie looks down. "Huh?"

"You," he waves toward Eddie's general vicinity, "looking like some kinda Metal Cheerleader." He noticably swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.

Okay. This is it, this is the perfect moment to tell Steve he's sending signals that he definitely doesn't understand he's sending.

"Steve," he has to clear his throat before continuing, "I need to tell you something."

He leans in, wide eyed and focused. "Yeah?"

That's not helpful. "Um. So, to guys like me... Gay," he chokes out, still hard to say aloud even though he knows Steve knows, "sometimes you say things or do things that come off as...flirty. And I know you didn't know," he rushes to explain, "but I wanted to make you aware. To not do that. You know, in case the wrong person overhears it. It's a safety concern," he finishes lamely. Safety concern! Ugh. More like 'You're breaking my heart, I can't take much more of it.'

He waits for Steve to say something but he's just blinking owlishly.

"Steve?" He prompts, concerned.

"......yeah?" He finally seems to come back to himself. His eyes drift away, over Eddie's shoulder. "So...you want me to stop flirting?"

"Yeah, just in case, you never know who-" Wait. What? "What?"

Steve still isn't looking him in the eye. "What?" He mumbles.

"Did you say..." He can't even repeat it, it sounds like putting words in his mouth, but he did say that, right?

"Yeah. Sorry. I'll stop. I didn't realize it was bad, I guess. I thought... It's stupid. Nevermind. I'm gonna, um, take off actually. I'll see ya around, maybe."

He hops off the back of the van and actually starts walking away, like they're not 6 miles from his house. That snaps Eddie out of the paralysis spell he was under, adrenaline taking over like a bump of cocaine.

"No!" He shouts, like an insane person, and then takes it one step further by jumping up and tackling Steve into the grass.

"Uggff," Steve grunts when Eddie accidentally shoulders him in the gut, but he ignores the embarrassment in favor of crawling up his body so they're eye to eye.

He gets Steve's face between two hands and smooshes it. "Were you flirting with me on purpose?" He shouts.

"Are you serious?" He mumbles, half coherent, through pursed lips. "I'm gonna jump into the quarry."

"Answer the question!" He rattles Steve's head a little bit, for good measure.

"I work for Scoops Ahoy." Steve deadpans, unamused.

Eddie is going to throw one hell of a tantrum in a second. "Steve."

He smacks Eddie's hands away from his face. Doesn't bother to move out from under Eddie, he notes absently. "Yes, dude, obviously I was flirting with you on purpose! I thought that was, like, an understood thing that was happening. Why are you surprised?"

He feels like he's losing his mind. Why are you surprised the grass is made out of taffy? Would've made more sense as a question.

"Because you're straight." The duh is implied.

Sensibly, he asks, "Why would I flirt with you if I was straight?"

Eddie becomes very aware of every inch they are pressed together. Aware of the sound of the leaves rubbing together in the wind, aware of Judas Priest still playing through his speakers. Love Bites is a hell of a track to be having this revelation to.

"You're not straight?"

"No."

"And you were flirting?"

"Yes."

"With me?"

He rolls his eyes, not an ounce of bitchiness lost to his embarrassment. "No, Eddie, with the crusty blanket on your van floor. Yes, of course with you- Mmmphh!"

They probably shouldn't be making out on the ground at Settlers Quarry in broad daylight but, honestly, the shambling corpse of Jason Carver could show up right now and Eddie would not give two shits. Steve slides a hand down the back of Eddie's pants, grabbing what little bit of ass cheek he has, and Eddie thinks, Hope you're watching from hell, you bastard. Enjoy the show.

[wonderjanga]

Workaholic

Billy doesn’t notice, but he’s a workaholic. Like a really bad one.

Supes and Marvel: *talking*

Hero 1: “Hey, Cap!”

Marvel: *pauses his convo* “Yes?”

Hero 1: “Could you cover me for monitor duty? I have it later today at three.”

Marvel: “Oh, sure! No problem!” *smiles*

Hero 1: *extremely grateful* “Thanks a lot, man.”

A couple minutes later…

Hero 2: “Hey, Marvel, could you cover me for monitor duty for tomorrow morning?”

Marvel: “Sure!”

Supes: “Back to back monitor duty? Are you sure you want that?” *sounds concerned*

Marvel: “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

Supes: “I… never mind.”

A couple more minutes later…

Hero 3: “Cap, could you cover me for monitor duty-”

Supes: *sounds firm because he thinks his friend is being taken advantage of* “No, he will not.”

Marvel: *sounds confused* “But I want to?”

Supes: “Marvel, you can’t just accept monitor duty for nearly two days straight. What about Fawcett?”

Marvel: “What about it? I can protect it just fine with or without monitor duty.”

Hero 3: “If it’s really that much trouble, you can just say no, Cap-” *feels bad*

Marvel: “But I want to say yes!”

or

Marvel: *zoned out and listening to the Gods arguing his head*

Batman: “Captain.” *walks over, holding a tablet*

Marvel: “Yes?”

Batman: “You’re going to sign up for the latest long-term missions, right? Like usual?” *hands him the tablet*

Marvel: “Of course!” *looks at three missions available for sign up* “Do any of them overlap?”

Batman: “No, but-”

Marvel: “Great!” *signs up for all three*

Batman: “Did even read the content of the missions?”

Marvel: “No? Should I have?”

Batman: “Yes?? Are you sure you wanna sign up for all three, Captain? You’d be gone for nearly 3 months.”

Marvel: “Eh it’s fine. Tawny will cover for me, and I don’t think any of my villains will attack Fawcett if I’m not there.”

Batman: *stares for a second before sighing* “Alright then.”

Bruce took this as confirmation that Marvel doesn’t have a personal life. Being gone for three months without a single person noticing would be impossible if he had one.

or

Worker 1: “Ugh… I can’t believe this.”

Marvel: *appeared from nowhere* “What’s wrong? Do you need help?”

Worker 1: “AGH- Wha? Captain Marvel??” *in disbelief that the Captain Marvel is talking to him* “Uhhh no. I don’t need help at all.”

Worker 2: “He does. Help him, Cap.”

Marvel: “Okay!” *quickly helps and trots off to go help someone else*

Worker 1: *makes sure that Billy is far enough* “Dude, why’d you just make Captain Marvel help me?”

Worker 2: “I didn’t make him do anything. I think he just likes to be useful. Not that I’m complaining. He always looks so happy when he gets to help too.” *pauses to think for a bit* “Point is, just let him help if you need it.”

So yes, Billy will take any work, and seek out any work. He’s just that type of little guy. Anyways, Billy eventually found out that his workaholic tendencies were a little extreme when Freddy started also being a hero.

Junior: “I can’t believe I’m in the Watchtower!”

Marvel: “Yeah, it’s amazing right?”

Batman: “Marvel. The new sign up sheets are out- who is this?”

Marvel: “Ah, Mr. Batman Sir, this is Junior. Junior, this is Mr. Batman Sir.”

Junior: “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir!” *hero worship is practically oozing out*

Batman: “Likewise…” *is internally confused* “Anyways, Marvel, the new sign up sheets for long-term missions are out. I assume you’ll be joining like always?” *offers the Sign uptablet*

Marvel: “How’d you guess?” *smiles and takes the tablet from him*

Junior: “Long-term missions?”

Marvel: *pauses just when he’s about to sign up for a mission, and looks over to Junior* “Oh right. Junior, I don’t know if you wanna come or not.”

Junior: “Uh…” *looks between Batman and Marvel* “Sure, I’ll go.”

Marvel: *smiles at Junior* “Good.” *looks over to Batman* “How long are they?”

Batman: *swears that just for a teensy weensy second, Marvel’s smile was fatherly* “Each of them should take approximately two weeks to complete.”

Marvel: “Really? That’s shorter than normal.” *looks over to Freddy nervously* “Are you okay with being gone for six weeks?”

Junior: “Si- six weeks?! Batman said we’d only be gone for two??”

Marvel: “Yeah, but that’s the length for one mission. There’s three listed here.”

Junior: “Wait, you’re signing us up for all three?!”

Marvel: “Yeah?” *sounds unsure* “How about I only sign you up for one instead? We’ll do that one together and I’ll do the other two alone.”

Junior: “Wha…? Why are you signing up for three in the first place?”

Marvel: “Because why not?”

Junior: “Dude, that’s not normal.”

Marvel: “Of course it is! Mr. Batman sir hasn’t ever said anything.”

Junior: “That doesn’t mean it’s normal.”

Batman: “He is right. Signing up for three missions in a row, leaving earth for occasionally months at a time isn’t normal for anyone besides Green Lanterns. Captain, when was the last time you haven’t signed up for the latest mission and instead relaxed?”

Marvel: “I don’t know… but I do relax! Every single minute of me not being a hero is me relaxing!”

Junior: “Is it though…?”

Billy still ended up signing himself up for the three missions. Freddy decided to join him on the other two as well, so he wouldn’t be leaving his new buddy alone.

(Also, I’m sorry, but I had to just sneak in that little itty-bitty piece of Dad Marvel)

[these-detestable-hands]

K so first off I am not too fond of confessional booths already because they put a barrier between the average Joe and God when your connection to God is supposed to be very personal because He's, y'know, your dad.

Second, yeah no that's definitely sacrilegious. Imagine you go to ask your grandpa for advice and they've replaced him with a robot. Like. Argh. I hope whoever did that gets turbofired and they find a priest who actually cares about helping people and teaching the word of God.

Also just like???? The catholic church has gone on the record saying they hate AI so it's crazy to me that a, I'm assuming catholic, priest thinks that's okay. I mean it's wrong on so many levels and sacrilege is the worst one but it's just appalling. Who does this.

That AI is gonna tell someone to stop worshipping God or to do something self destructive to atone for their sins and I hope that is the end of AI confessional booths forever.

Actually I hope the pope hears about this and personally yells at whoever did this. Don't know much about or care for that guy and his kinda bogus job description but if he does anything good with his life then let it be war on AI

Hey, @flagellant, I think I need that rundown on the difference between blasphemy, sacrilege, and heresy again.

[yuiiiriii]

synopsis : after a traumatic event, Jay, a complete stranger, has only did anything but comfort you. From the night you guys met, it was only humane to fall for one another.

includes : 5.9k words, strangers to lovers, undergroundfighter!jay x reader, smut! (mdni), teasing jay, f!oral receiving, possessive and jealous jay:3

warnings : assault, harassment, overthinking, miscommunication

The streets of Seoul were cold like no other. Approaching winter, it was only obvious. Yet you still forgot to pack a jacket. So you clutch yourself and your bag as you walk down the late night streets. Work was tiring as always and you wanted nothing more but to succumb to your bed.

As you walked your familiar route you always winced at a specific dark alley, it always made you uneasy. You find yourself almost past it when you’re being tugged harshly by your wrist. The lamppost only growing smaller as your tugged into the alley. Your fight or flight mode comes on and you scream. Pushing, punching, kicking, anything you could to get this random guy off of you.

He pins you to the wall, his big hand clasping over your mouth and nose, closing your airways. Your hyperventilating, sobbing, tugging at this guys arm. But he’s just too strong and as you’re still fighting, you slowly feel yourself slipping away. Vision going blurry as a tear runs down your cheek.

Jay leaves the convenience store with a bag in his hand. It’s late, yes, but it’s somehow still busy. So he pulls his hood up, hiding the cuts and bruises that litter his face and lips. He opens his bag of chips, popping one in his mouth. As he gazes at the cars passing by his body freezes and body chills when he hears a scream. His head shoots towards the dark alley and without a thought he’s sprinting in, dropping his bag.

He doesn’t even have to go that far when he sees you struggling. His eyes widen, the pure fear in your eyes. He retracts his hand, clenching his fist, he socks the man in the face. You fall to the ground, choking and gasping for air.

When you look to the side you see a guy on top of the man, beating him to a pulp. You pull your legs to your chest, shaking like a leaf. Jay pants, giving one last kick to the guy, he turns to you, his brows immediately pulling together. He kneels in front of you.

“Hey, let’s go back in to the city okay?” He says softly, lightly grabbing the sides of your arms and lifting you up.

He leads you to a bench, back into the streets. He stares at you worriedly and your gaze is so far off. Your cheeks have a little bruising, making Jay clench his fist. Your eyes are a little wide, tears still lacing them, and your breaths still ragged. You’re shivering so he doesn’t waste a second in unzipping his sweater, putting it around you.

That seems to snap you out of it and you stare up at him. You blink down at your wrists, noticing they were marked from how hard the guy held them. You begin to cry again, rubbing at your wrists harshly. Jay kneels down again, quickly grabbing your hands.

“Hey it’s okay, you’re okay.” He whispers, you glance into his eyes and they look so sincere. You notice a cut on his cheek and you gasp.

“Oh no, you’re hurt.” You whisper, your hand coming up to glide along it. Jay’s eyes widen a bit but he smiles regardless.

“I’m totally fine, let’s worry about you yeah?” His lips pull together in a small smile. You nod, staring at his hands still clasped in yours.

It’s a little odd how you’re very touchy with this guy, he’s a complete stranger. But there’s something so comforting and soothing about him, maybe it’s because he just saved your life but you think it’s more than that.

“Were you…walking home?” He sits down next to you, you hum. He pouts and you let out a giggle.

“I know. Stupid right? I just didn’t think I’d be out of work so late and I live really close by so…” You drift off, Jay does his best to keep you distracted.

“Oh, did you want a ride?” He immediately sputters.

“Uh, I mean, maybe I could walk you home?” He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way and he was pretty sure getting into a strangers car was the last thing you wanted.

“Sure.” You smile, the both of you falling into step with each other.

“So do you always work late?” He breaks the silence, in no way was it awkward but he’d be lying if he didn’t want to get to know you more.

“Kinda? I don’t know stuff at the office has been more demanding lately. So I have to stay overtime.” You pout and he smiles, only because you look so adorable.

You reach the gate to your apartment and turn around to him. He seems to be pondering and you perk up.

“Oh! Your sweater!” You move to take it off but he stops you, sliding the fabric over you once again and zipping it up.

“It’s cold. Just keep it.” He smiles and you open your mouth to protest but he stops you.

“Would you want me to walk you home from work?” You blink, you were already home.

“You mean like…for the next time?” You tilt your head and he laughs.

“Yea, for the next time.” You quickly raise your hands.

“You really don’t need to! You’ve helped me so much already.” You play with the string from his sweater.

“Well, to be honest, I don’t know if I’d be happy with myself if you weren’t safe.” He mumbles, a faint blush on his cheeks. Yours resembling his now.

“Ok then.” You quip, smiling at the ground. He hands you his phone and you type in your number.

“Your names pretty.” He smiles and you laugh.

“Thanks…”

“Jay. It’s Jay.” He laughs.

“Right.”

As you were about to bid him goodbye, loud tires screeching is heard behind him, the both of you turning to the culprit.

“Jay! Where the fuck have you been! I’ve been calling-” Heeseung shuts up at the sight of you, making his lips curl in a teasing smirk.

“Oh? So this what you’ve been ignoring me for?”

Jay pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Hold on.” He murmurs to you.

You stand there blinking as Jay talks to the guy, you’re assuming they’re pretty close. He then sends you an apologetic look, waiting patiently as Jay walks back to you.

“So I guess I’ll see you when you get off work?” He smiles down at you and you nod.

“Yea. I’ll text you.” You smile.

“Take care okay? Only a call away.” He smiles, getting into the car.

You laugh bidding him goodbye as Heeseung speeds away.

Jay rests on his bed, fresh out of the shower. It’s been a week and he hasn’t gotten a text from you. Now he knows he shouldn’t pry or bug you, you have a life and so does he.

Maybe you just decided you didn’t want his help anymore. But still. Jay can’t help himself, so he shoots you a text.

Jay

Haven’t been working late?

He bites his lip.

Really Jay? That’s all you could think of?

He sighs, tossing his phone on the bed as he finishes drying his hair. That is until he gets a ping, his eyes gazing at his phone. He picks it up and smiles at the sight of your name on his screen.

Y/n:)

Haven’t worked this whole week lol.

I asked for time off

Because yk…

Jay frowns, the thought of you still scared that you didn’t even wanna go to work aches him. He wanted nothing more than to protect you, at least by his side he’d always make sure you were safe.

Jay

I understand

I hope you’ve been well:)

Y/n:)

I have been thank you Jay

I hope your week is going well

He sighs, if only it were that easy. He’s been packed with fights on fights. Heeseung has had him booked to the brim, trying to earn that ‘fast cash’ as he’d say.

He rolls his eyes at the thought. He gazes down at his hands, the cuts and bruises that litter them. The small cut on his cheek that’s almost done healing. The two of you send a few more texts and that was pretty much it. However you roam his mind all of the time. Your smile, your cute flushed face, your laugh, your voice.

So Jay is only ecstatic when you send him a text, letting him know you had went to work today. He throws on a t shirt and some baggy black jeans, pairing it with a black jacket.

He looks at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair and spraying a bit of cologne. As he walks to the living room to grab his shoes, Heeseung stares at him with confused eyes.

“What are you wearing? Where’re you going?” He says standing in front of him.

“Gotta pick up Y/n.” Jay says lightly, finishing his other shoe.

“The fight?!” Heeseung yells in disbelief.

“I said I wasn’t fighting tonight. Figure it out.” Jay grunts, clearly irritated. Heeseung crosses his arms.

“You gotta, there’s a lot of money. I’ll pick you up when you’re done walking her home.”

Jay doesn’t say a word but slam the door behind him. He huffs as he makes his way over to you. He feels undressed when he stands next to you.

You’re in slacks, a button up, with your trench coat draped over your shoulders, a scarf wrapped around you, your heels clanking on the floor.

He’s at a loss for words.

God you were so pretty and even prettier when you shoot him a smile, waving at him.

“Hey.” You say a little too giddily.

“Hi Y/n.” He smiles, standing in front of you.

“Oh! Your sweater. I washed it for you.” You hand it over to him and he gives you a heartwarming smile.

“You didn’t have to you know?”

“I know. I wanted to.” You stuff your hands in your pocket.

He smiles, throwing it over his shoulder. Jay stands close to you as you both walk, which brings you comfort, you know it’s just his presence though.

“You’re all dressed up. You going somewhere tonight?” You grin, playfully teasing him.

Jay flushes, he would admit that he did try with his appearance tonight, even if he is just walking you home. He needed to get a grip.

“Uh, you could say that.” He scratches at his jaw. You chew your lip, not being able to resist the guilt of possibly holding him back.

“You know Jay if you were busy you didn’t have to walk me home. Even though I appreciate it.” You send him a nervous smile and he quickly shuts you down.

“N-No! I don’t necessarily have plans. I just wanted to look nice.”

For you.

He’d like to add but he fears it might be too early for that.

You hum, readjusting your bag. He catches this and swiftly pulls it off you, slinging it around him. When you look at him to say something he just sends you a smile.

The two of you are red in the cheeks but you’d both just blame it on the cold weather. His heart pangs when your apartment comes into view. Hating how shortly lived your guys talks and walks were.

“Well, this is my stop.” You turn to him and he hands you your bag.

You noticed how red his nose has gotten and you laugh, making him blink in confusion. You unwrap your scarf, placing it over Jay’s neck, his breath hitching.

“There.” You pat it down, your hands sliding off his chest.

“It’s getting colder Jay, make sure to cover up.” He laughs, shaking his head in amusement.

“You’re to cute.” He says before he can even stop himself. You both freeze, staring at each other wide eyed.

“Uh, sorry, it just slipped.” He laughs dryly, running a hand through his hair. You laugh it off, not ignoring how it made your heart skip a beat.

“I was gonna ask, maybe if you’re not too busy after work we could grab something to eat? On me of course.” You hum, nodding up at him.

“I’d love that Jay.” He hums, hands in his pocket as he watches you reach the gate.

“Have a goodnight and get home safe.” You narrow your eyes at him and he laughs.

“I will, goodnight.”

Almost as if on cue, Heeseung is pulling up next to him, rolling down his window.

“Come on! We don’t have much time!”

Even though you’re inside, you pause a little watching them interact. Heeseung throws him a tank top and Jay quickly takes off jacket and shirt.

Your eyes bulge out of your skull.

He was so toned and lean. His biceps perfectly sculpted and his back muscles. Don’t get started on his abs. You hurriedly turn around rushing up to your apartment. After he slides on the tank top, he’s closing the car door shut.

“So have you kissed her yet?” Heeseung cheekily says and Jay groans.

“Shut up and drive man.”

You and Jay’s little walks became a routine and ultimately, something you looked forward after your harsh work. Jay did end up taking you out for dinner the next day and now you guys try something new every single time you go out to eat. It became something you both enjoyed.

Especially for Jay, after rough matches and knowing a belt fight was awaiting him. Being with you always seemed to keep him at bay.

You’re on your break when a coworker of yours comes up to you. Nelly. She was nice but also nosey.

“Hey girl, you didn’t tell me you had such a hot boyfriend!” She exclaims and you almost choke on your drink.

“W-What?”

“Yea! The guy that’s been walking you home for what? More than a month?” You’re flushed and she grins.

“Does he have any hot friends too? Set me up!” She pats the wall of your cubicle.

“We’re not dating Nelly. But sure I’ll ask him.” You mutter and she barks back a dragged out thank you. You laugh to yourself pulling out your phone and sent a couple texts to Jay.

Y/n ❤️

omg my coworker has been spying on us

not actually lol but she mentioned you always walking me

and also mentioned if you have any hot friends

anyways gotta get back to work, see you after Jay:)

Jay spits out a wad of blood, cringing at the cold water that’s being poured over him.

“Come on man, this guy ain’t any different, you got him.” Heeseung says, his words of encouragement to lock in Jay’s position for the belt fight.

Jay had been training for weeks upon weeks. There was no way Heeseung would let him lose now.

With a ding, both fighters are meeting up in the middle of the ring, circling one another. Few punches are thrown, which Jay dodges with expertise. Jay lands a damaging liver shot, causing the fighter to falter. Jay’s eyes glimmer with fire upon seeing an opening.

With a faint jab he’s knocking his opponent out with his signature right hook. The crowd roars as Jay smiles, the arena screaming his name. In the locker room, Jay dries his hair from the shower.

“My man!” Heeseung laughs, slapping him right on the back, Jay winces and Heeseung mumbles a small sorry.

“You’re a money maker you know that? We’ll probably be millionaires when you win that belt fight.” He laughs and Jay shakes his head, a small smile lacing his features.

“I’ll see you at the apartment, gotta get Y/n.” Heeseung eyes widen a little.

“Uh Jay?” He turns to him.

“It’s not too late?”

Jay freezes, ripping out his phone from his pocket, seeing missed texts and missed calls from you, he curses, sprinting out the doors. If Jay had calmed down and maybe stopped to think he would’ve asked Heeseung to give him a ride. Yet of course he didn’t, and he’s sprinting to your job.

Coincidentally, your work wasn’t far from the underground gym he fights at but still he was tired from the performance he just put up. When he arrives at the front of your job, he calls you, panting.

“Y/n, Hey! I’m sorry I’m late—” He says rushed out but you interrupt him.

“Jay, it’s okay. My friend gave me a ride home. My house is on the way to his anyways.”

His?

It doesn’t sit right with Jay, as a matter of fact it irks him. Jealousy bubbles in his chest and he can’t resist the way his tone changes.

“Oh, did he get you something to eat?” He taps his phone, his jaw clenched.

“Yea, we went out.” He grips his phone tighter, rolling his eyes.

“Great.” He replies shortly and you side eye your phone, a pout gracing your lips.

“I told you Jay if you’re busy you don’t have to feel obligated to walk me home.” You sigh and so does he.

“It’s not that, I—just had to do something and it slipped my mind.” His words don’t help the situation and you frown.

“You’re proving my point.” You laugh awkwardly and he grows frustrated.

“You know what I gotta go, glad you got someone else to take you home.” He doesn’t even let you answer before he hangs up, leaving you dumbfounded.

Jay hadn’t texted you for almost two weeks and you were both frustrated and worried. Even if he did answer he’d respond with short replies or excuses as to why he couldn’t walk you home. You can’t help but repeat your guys last conversation over and over in your head.

Was he jealous? You guys never discussed what you guys were.

You guys had to be just friends right? Pushing down your feelings and looking at it realistically you truly didn’t know if Jay even reciprocated your feelings.

Even if there was knowledge to how you both felt, there was no label.

It’s not like Jay was doing any better. He was upset and yet he has no reason to be since you guys weren’t even together, it still bothered him.

Jay knew he liked you but he wasn’t sure if you felt the same way. And even though this guy was your friend he couldn’t stop his mind from racing at the thoughts of you seeing other people.

That thought alone leaving a sour taste in his mouth and an ache in his heart. It was bothering him so much he wasn’t even doing good in training.

“Damn man, what is wrong with you? You got the power but where’s your strategy. You’re fighting sloppy. The fight is tomorrow.” Heeseung says frustratedly and even a little worried. Jay rips his gloves off, tossing them to the side.

“Don’t you think I fucking know that?” Jay snaps. Heeseung grows angrier.

“What the fuck is your problem? Things ain’t going good with your girl?” Jay scoffs, taking a drag out of his water.

“I’ll take that as a yes, don’t fuck this up.” Heeseung says, walking away.

“Fuck you.” Jay spits, his breathing uneven.

Leaving him alone to rustle with his thoughts.

You’re at work when you overhear your coworkers talking about some fight in the lunch room.

“Man! You said you’d come! This is like the biggest fight ever!” He exclaims pointing at a paper. You blink and continue to eat your food.

“Who’s fighting again?” Another coworker asks and the guys eyes glint with excitement.

“The one and only RAS! Jongseong Park! Jay?” The guy says and your head snaps towards them.

Their words die out.

It couldn’t be your Jay right?

“Hey, can I see it?” You point to the paper and your coworkers stare at you confused.

“Uh sure.”

Your eyes almost bulge out your skull when you see Jay on the front of it, a lopsided grin on his handsome face adorning no shirt at all.

He was a boxer?!

Scratch that an underground fighter?! You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“They’re fighting tonight?” You say in disbelief and the guy hums.

“I didn’t take you as a boxing watcher?” The guy grins and you hum.

“My brother is obsessed with it.”

Is the last thing you say before making your way to your computer. Searching up Jay’s name and the fight to begin with. You find nothing other than small posts about it.

However you find a an address, matching the same one on the paper. It was less than fifteen minutes from your job.

You realize now that the topic of Jay’s occupation never was mentioned. But now it made sense, all of the injuries he’d have.

You can barely focus on your work for the rest of the day. Only on Jay and this fight that was coming up.

Immediately after you clock out you’re making your way to said address. It’s in a very sketchy part of the city. You can’t help but feel like a piece of meat with the way everyone stares you down. However you make it to the building and it looks like a motel.

“I’m here for the fight?” You say and the guy blinks at you.

“Fifty bucks.” He says and you sigh, sliding the cash over to him. He nods at the guards and they let you pass, opening a door.

As you walk down the stairs, screams and cheers grow louder. You gawk at just how big this place was. It was like an underground stadium! You quickly notice all of the banners, posters, cutouts, you name it, of Jay.

As you walk through the crowds, you’re being stared down once again. You understand why, you look too formal to be here. Most of the women wearing little to no clothing, you stood out like a thorn. The lights turn off and you gasp. Shining right in the middle of the ring. The crowd silencing.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” He yells and the crowd roars, claps, throwing drinks.

“This fight lasts ten rounds, each three minutes long. Make sure to place your bets because we’re ready to rumble!” He screams, further pumping up the crowd.

“Fighting out of the blue corner, Ethan, Boogieman Davis!” The crowd is filled with boos and cheers, the man raising his hands up, holding them near his ears.

“Out of the red corner. The one and only, Jongseong RAS Park!”

The whole ground shakes with the amount of people screaming for him. Jay smiles, raising his gloved hand and bowing.

“God he’s so fucking hot right!” A random girl nudges you and you blink at her.

“He must be so good in bed. All that stamina has gotta go somewhere.” She laughs and you flush.

As the round starts you’ve accepted that you can’t watch it. To scared to see the outcome or watch Jay get punched. So you roam around the place. You pass by the bar and what looks like to be a food court and the restrooms.

Until you find another set of stairs. You walk up them as the scream’s Ooo’s! and Ah’s begin to fade again. You find a hallway, doors littering them. As soon as you reach one of them, it opens. You freeze and the mystery person doesn’t stop until they see you.

“No fucking way.” Heeseung gawks. You blink at him and he hasn’t moved.

“W-What are you—How? Oh my god.” He freaks out, pacing and grabbing at his hair. You open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off, pushing you by your shoulders.

“Honey you need to leave like right now and act like you’ve never ever came here ok?” He says all rushed out and you stop spinning towards him.

“I’m not leaving.” You pout and he groans.

“If Jay sees you. I’m dead!” He emphasizes with his hands.

“Scratch that. He can’t see you.”

“Why?”

“He’ll lose! I don’t know what has happened between you but you have got him riled up and in a bad mood for the past two weeks! So if he sees you there’s no way he’s winning. And I need him to win!” Heeseung says almost desperately.

“Well I can’t leave.” Heeseung whines and looks down at you, nibbling on his lips.

“Fine! But you’re staying in here.” You open your mouth to protest but Heeseung isn’t having it.

“Stay. In. Here. You’re safer in here anyways.” He sighs.

“I gotta go, Jay needs me.” He says, throwing an apologetic look your way and leaving without another word. Y

ou can still hear faint cheers and you sigh, your nerves all over the place.

Back down in the ring, it’s the 6th round. Both fighters are already battered up and even though Jay looked almost unscathed, he has a nasty gash on his eyebrow, due to the opponent “accidentally” headbutting him.

“You have to end this quick. He’s playing nasty, technically you’re winning by that point deduction but still. We want a knockout.” Heeseung says as a medic helps to clean and stop his cut from profusely bleeding.

The seventh round commences and without a second passing the “Boogieman” is delivering hard punch right to the Jay’s gash, making him stumble. The guy grins and doesn’t hesitate to land calculated punches on Jay.

He’s against the ropes, trying to block and evade any punches that are being thrown.

He’s so tired.

He wants to stop.

He wants it to be over.

Maybe if he just let one connect and lose it’d be fine.

His mind travels to you, your voice buzzing through him. ‘My Hero.’ You once said jokingly to him when he caught you from almost tripping. He smiles at the memory.

God did he miss you so fucking much.

At this time you both would probably be roaming the streets, getting snacks and cracking jokes. With the seventh round surely going to his opponent, Heeseung grows worried.

“Fuck, come on man. You gotta win this. If not for yourself, for Y/n.” Jay’s head snaps towards Heeseung and he gulps.

You’re with Jay all the time, when he’s home, training or even right now. You never leave his mind. Even though you don’t know this side of him, he’ll use you as his motivation.

That if he wins this, he’ll stop being a fucking coward and fess up his feelings for you, maybe even kiss you like he’s always wanted to.

So with the beginning of round eight, he lets his opponent land a couple of hits, reading his movements. It’s a risky play and Heeseung is practically shitting himself.

Right when his opponent goes into his mantra of rushed punches, Jay waits for an opening.

Stupid move.

The “Boogieman” had let his guard down, believing Jay wouldn’t do anything other than block. But in a moment Jay is ducking, turning his body, he’s delivering a nasty uppercut.

The whole crowd silences for a moment, sitting at the edge of their seats as the fighter hits the ground. The referee begins his counts and people begin standing up, counting with him. Jay breathes heavily, ready for sign that his opponent might get back up.

However the ref reaches ten, signaling the fight is over. The arena is louder than ever, as Jay smiles in relief, almost laughing. Heeseung and some people from their team join him in the ring, picking him up and cheering. With the announcer, both fighters and the referee between them.

“Our new lightweight champion by KO, Jongseong ‘RAS’ Park!” The announcer drags out, the referee holding his hand up as they wrap the belt around his waist. Jay smiles as the crowd chants his name, holding his belt. Jay gives a small speech, showing his respects to his opponent, the fight is over.

As quickly as victory is there it’s gone when Heeseung remembers you waiting in the locker room. The both of them walking up the steps.

“Jay.” Heeseung says and he turns around.

“What’s up.” He says stopping in front of the door. Heesung’s gives him an envelope.

“Y/n is here.” He almost whispers and Jay grows angry.

“Really man, that’s not fucking funny.” He rolls his eyes, beginning to turn the handle.

Heeseung stands with his head down as Jay opens the door and sees you standing there. The envelope falling from his hands.

He blinks once.

Then twice.

Then he’s turning around, definitely going to kill Heeseung.

“Wait!” You both yell and Jay freezes, his eyes snapping towards you. You stand there with a pout.

“Just, talk to me please. Deal with him later.” You mumble. Jay sends a glare to Heeseung.

“Leave.” He grits and Heeseung is gone in a flash.

Jay picks up the envelope and closes the door behind him. You watch as he sits on the bench, unwrapping his hands. You sigh at the cuts on his face. He doesn’t pay you any mind until you’re in front of him with a first aid kit.

“What’re you-” You hold his face and he blushes, eyes meeting yours.

You stare at him a little longer before you begin to open the box. You inspect the deep gash on his eyebrow. Your finger softly gliding around the skin.

“You’re gonna need stitches.” You whisper and he hums.

“Did you win?” You break the silence and he sighs.

“Mhm.” He says shortly, making you pout. You narrow your eyes and push the cloth with alcohol in to one of his cuts.

“Ah! What the hell!” He groans staring up at you.

“You ignore me for two weeks and you’re still mad? I don’t even know what I did!” You continue to pout as you tend to his wounds.

“I’m sorry.” He finally says.

“I’m being stupid.”

“Yea you are.” He narrows his eyes at you and you smile.

“Actually I have a right to be mad. Why are you here.” He frowns, crossing his arms.

“What? You didn’t want me finding this out? The one and only RAS?” You tease and he groans.

“You don’t care?” He grows a little conscious.

“No? It’s hot anyways.” He blushes again and you smile, gliding your thumb along a cut in his lip.

“You should be happy. You won.” You say softly and he nods.

“Thanks to you.” He gazes up at you and blink.

“I thought of you, you’re like my only motivation.” He mumbles, now his ears and neck were red. You smile and swiping his hair out of his face.

“You big sap.” You laugh, biting your lip. His hands come up to rest on the small of your back, rubbing circles.

“I really like you.” He whispers and your heart clenches.

“And I’ve been such a fucking coward and when you mentioned that guy—I just.” You can’t help but smile.

“I like you to Park.” He rolls his eyes, you lean down and peck his lips.

His eyes widen, staring at you in disbelief. You smile cutely as you clean his cut, but he grabs your wrist. He stands up, caging you against the lockers. His hand cups the back of your neck, the other on your waist. He pulls you into another kiss. You both lose yourself in each other, your hands tightly gripping his tank top.

“Wanted to do this for so long.” He breathes against your lips. His hand slides down, gliding along your waist and back.

“Got so mad when you mentioned that guy.” He huffs, nibbling on your bottom lip. You gasp and he shoves his tongue in your mouth.

“M-My friend?” You question and he almost growls.

“Don’t care what he is. You’re mine.” He breaks away from your lips, planting kisses down your neck.

“J-Jay.” You moan, your hands gripping his hair.

He hisses, clamping his teeth down on your neck. You whine, craning your neck to give him more access as your hands drag down his chest. You finally feel the muscle and rigid of his abs, making you bite your lip.

“Please.” You whine and he smirks.

“What you begging for huh?” He whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe, you grip his shoulders and he grins.

He pats your thighs and you jump. He carries you with ease, setting you on the counter of the sink. His hands rub at your thighs as he slots himself between your legs, spreading them apart.

“Can I?” His hand rests on your shirt and you nod. He teasingly unbuttons it slowly one by one.

“Jay stop teasing.” You whine, tugging at his wrist.

“Such an impatient girl.” He smiles, sliding the shirt off of you. He immediately places kisses on the apple of your breasts, squeezing one of them.

“So fucking beautiful.” He whispers in to your skin.

“I’m gonna take these off okay?” He says, tugging at your slacks. You nod dumbly and he smiles, pecking your lips.

As he works off your pants you rake your nails along his abs, making him shudder. He drops down to his knees, placing kisses and sucking marks into your plush skin, massaging your thighs.

“Perfect, you’re so perfect.” He gazes up at you and you moan at the sight.

He peels off your panties, licking his lips upon seeing your glistening folds.

“Fuck pretty, you’re wet.” You whine in embarrassment, your hands shooting to cover your face and he laughs.

Licking a long achingly strip. You sigh, your thighs twitching. He cups the back of your knees, placing your legs on his shoulders. He sucks and nips at your clit, pretty noises leaving your mouth as your juices cover his mouth.

“Taste so sweet.” He groans and you flush at his words.

“S-Stop talking—ngh!” You moan as he inserts two fingers inside your greedy hole.

“What was that baby?” You whine, as he pumps them inside you, his arm flexing.

“You’re mean.” You whimper and he only smiles wider.

As his fingers move faster so does his tongue, flicking your bud. His lips so plump and fast.

“Jong—” You moan and he can feel his cock twitch.

“Fuck, say it pretty girl.” He pulls out his fingers and you pout at the emptiness until he’s replacing it with tongue. A guttural moan leaving you.

“Close! So close Jongie.” Your hole clenches around his tongue, only sucking him in.

He groans against you, only adding more stimulation, feeding the fire that you feel in your core. His hand moves up to rub your clit, he feels you flutter against him, your cunt spasming against him.

“Cumming!” You cry out, your legs closing around him as your hand tugs at his hair, riding his face. He licks and sucks up all your juices, rubbing soothing circles on the inside of your thighs.

“Did so good for me.” He says breathlessly, peppering soft kisses on the inside of your thighs, even one on your tummy.

Your head still fuzzy from your orgasm but you smile down at him. He gently slides your panties back on along with your pants. He wipes his face with one of his towels, placing a kiss on the side of your head.

“So does this mean I can take you out on a date?” He asks, his hands at your waist once again.

“After that performance, I can’t say no.” You grin, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“You’re talking about my fight or my mouth.” He grins as you shove him away.

“Who knew you were such a freaking tease.” You flush, his hands intertwining with yours.

“Still waiting on that answer angel.”

“You called me like a million names already.” You laugh and he smiles.

“Just seeing which ones I like more but they all suit you.” He smiles and you do too.

“Yes Jay, I’ll go on a date with you.” He pecks your lips, tasting yourself on his lips.

“It’s Jongseong to you or Jongie.” He grins.

“Just to be clear you’re mine right? I just don’t wanna ask you like this.” He raises his brows.

“Yes, I’m yours.” You laugh.

“All yours Jongie.” You drag out and he nuzzles his face in your neck.

“Atta girl.”

Heeseung😒

wrap it up dude

the owner is waiting for you two to leave

glad you made it to third base though;)

[anadiasmount]

anything dad!jude pls we beg 🥲💕

safe and sound - jb blurb.

tiny insta au at the end 😉

“cranky, just like your mama,” jude baby talked as he shook the bottle, while his babygirl eva fussed and crinkled her nose upset. “here you go, let’s go sit on the bed with mommy.” jude made sure all the lights were off downstairs and doors were locked before gently going upstairs to your room.

“jude?” you called out, he yelled back a yeah seeing you finishing up your skincare routine by your vanity, pulling the covers down so he could sit with eva in his arms. “she’s so sleepy, i felt so bad waking her up,” jude whispered as you walked in now changed in your pjs and hair in a messy updo.

“i know but if we hadn’t she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight,” you replied joining him sitting up on the bed. “but seeing her so excited and intrigued today, gosh i can’t believe she’s so big now. like you mean to tell me she was this small” jude pinched his fingers and squinted his eyes, “and now she’s almost one? where’d all the time go,” jude frowned, visibly upset that his babygirl is growing up so fast.

eva’s eyes were heavy, fluttering often as she drank her bottle and cuddled into her daddies embrace, the warmth and comfort helping her soothe so she could fall asleep quicker. jude traced her brows and the tiny birthmark on her cheek, kissing her forehead and giving her the most undeniably attention. “it feel like just yesterday where we found out we were expecting. the late night runs to the grocery store, the baby shower, i wish to do it all again,” jude said, kissing your temple as you leaned and laid on his chest.

“and we will, but we want to enjoy these special moments with her. for so long and give her the most happiest childhood. if we rush into having another kid i feel like we won’t get to experience and enjoy it. we have all the time in the world you know?” you said your hand coming up to trace eva’s cheek, where she was no fully asleep, lips pursed and brows pulled in. “she looks exactly like you when she’s asleep,” jude laughed.

“does she really?” you say confused, now noticing the probability of it.

“exactly like her momma,” jude leaned down and kissed you sweetly. “when you say do it all again… does that mean…” jude said unsure, feeling those similar jitters he once felt when you had surprised him with the unexpected news of your pregnancy. happy, scared, but overall thankful. thankful for the life he’s getting to build day by day along with you.

“i mean as in a few years maybe two or three we can try again for our second baby,” you whispered butting your lip as jude stared at you with adoration. “you make me the happiest man, you have no idea baby,” jude smirked, “don’t be getting any ideas now! just because i say that won’t mean we won’t have precautions,” jude pouted but shook his head understanding the boundaries you were setting.

while most of your pregnancy went smoothly, there was times where you felt just so stuck. the back pain, the headaches with no use of medication, the nausea and loss of appetite, being unable to sometimes keep your food in and throwing up. you felt useless but jude was there everytime to remind you to take it easy and that there was no rush, that both you and the baby mattered, as he held you close to him.

jude gently still rocked eva in his arm, making sure she was fully asleep before he went to leave her in her crib. the last thing he wanted was to stay up with a crying baby who refused to go to sleep. he had learned that back then when you had gone to a girls trip. the restless nights and getting a taste of what you dealt with when he wasn’t here.

“sometimes i can’t believe it’s real. that we made this tiny beautiful human,” jude sighed watching as eva slept peacefully. “im so incredibly happy, i just love you both so much,” and there he was again, despite you being with mixed hormones jude was always the sappy and emotional one during your pregnancy and after. “jude were not going anywhere,” you laughed, hugging him and pressing kisses on his cheeks as he cried.

“i know, i know, you know how i am,” you wiped his tears still giggling from the random outburst. “as long as you’re here next to me with eva, it’s all i need to be okay. to feel safe,” jude said kissing you feverishly. “i love you both so much, never forget that. i mean it,” he said seriously at the end. “if you ever decide to leave me just know-”

“jude im not going to leave you, quit it with that. do i have to remind you of this,” you flashed your engagement ring, “or this?” then grabbed the the pendent with his initials and eva’s on your necklace. “or this?” you said a bit louder, pointing to the tattoo dedicated to him. “that’s the best gift you could ever give me,” he smirked proudly, kissing the inside of your wrist where the ink was.

“i could always get it removed…”

“don’t!”

———————

judebellingham + ynusername

liked by: ynusername, vinijr, gioreyna, jobebellingham, andreamartinez, adidas, yourfriend, user129, and 996,390 others!

judebellingham: day out with mis dos amores 🤍

comments:

ynusername: ily hubby 😘

ynusername: MYY BABIESSS

ynusername: eva’s chunky legs im in love!! 😣😣

ynusername: ok stalker, catching me off guard 😒

jobebellingham: no invite? okay i see how it is 😒

vinijr: 🤍

gioreyna: sooo adorable! little eva is so big now! ❤️

comments are limited!

———————

ynusername added to their stories!

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

January 1986

Steve sighed as he stepped out into the late January air. He loved visiting the quarry at this time of year, especially when he parents strolled into town. He took in the view with a smile. God, it really was beautiful. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who thought so. He spotted Eddie Munson's van parked not too far away. He recognized it from all the times he picked Dustin up from Hellfire. The side door was wide open. Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and decided that he should go say hello. Dustin wanted them both to get to know each other, and he insisted that he had nothing to be jealous about.

"Hello? Munson?" Steve asked and peered into the van. "Eddie?"

That's when he heard it. Someone screaming. His instincts immediately kicked in, and he ran towards the sound. Steve reached the edge of the quarry and saw Eddie clinging to a ledge.

"Oh my god! What are you doing?!" Steve exclaimed.

"Well, gee, Harrington, I thought I'd get a better view - I fucking fell!" Eddie shrieked.

"Grab my hand!" Steve yelled.

Steve laid on his stomach and threw his arm down. Eddie didn't waste a second and grabbed his hand. Steve secured himself and started pulling Eddie up, but it was awkward. Steve groaned as he tried to pull him up.

"Okay! You know what? Just let me go, man, I can swim!" Eddie yelled.

"At this height, that water turns into concrete, and then you turn into mashed potatoes!" Steve exclaimed.

"You just had to put that image into my head!" Eddie shrieked. "You're fucking with me!"

"Yeah, that's right! I want to be known as the person who saved Eddie Munson's life!" Steve yelled.

"With all that hero hair, I bet you do!" Eddie yelled.

"You're so fucking - "

He was infuriating, and with that, Steve managed to find something inside of him to pull Eddie up. They stumbled backward, Eddie falling into his arms. Eddie clung to him, pressing his face into his shoulder and breathing him in.

"What were you about to say?" Eddie gasped.

"I was going to say that you were so fucking annoying," Steve said. "So annoying that I managed to use that to yank you up."

"So, what you're saying is that I saved my life," Eddie said. "I knew I could do it."

Steve laughed and loosened his grip. Suddenly, Eddie squeezed on tighter with a loud squeak.

"Eddie?"

"Don't let me go," he whimpered.

"Yeah, okay, I got you," he said softly and pressed his cheek to the top of his head, stroking hair hair gently.

"I just came out here because. . .I'm afraid of heights," Eddie said. "And I thought that I could just get over it by coming and putting my feet over the edge. It was so dumb. No one else knows about it. . .well, except you."

"Any other fears I should know about?" Steve asked.

"Ducks. You better not fucking tell anyone," Eddie said. "It's bad enough that Jeff mocks me for it, and now Dustin."

"I don't blame you. They look like freaky looking dinosaurs," Steve said. "I mean, I'm not afraid of them, but I totally get it."

"You're the only who does," Eddie said, letting out a dry sob. "You smell nice, by the way."

Eddie got up off of Steve and helped him up. He started dusting the gravel out of Steve’s hair before working his way down to dust off his back and then. . .

"Eddie, that's my ass! You're basically smacking my ass," Steve said, blushing.

"I'm just trying to be as helpful as you were with me," Eddie said and then scowled. "How the hell is this thing so bouncy?"

"Okay!" Steve said whirling around.

"Your cheeks are pink, you as cold as I am?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah. I got a blanket and a thermos of hot chocolate in my car," Steve said. "You want some?"

"It's kismet! I actually got space in the back of my van for once," Eddie said.

Steve grabbed the thermos and the blanket. He crawled into the back with Eddie and threw the blanket over the both of them. They leaned back against the wall of the van, facing the open door. He poured some hot chocolate for Eddie.

"I make it myself," Steve said.

"Goddamn, this is good!" Eddie grinned. "You really like it with extra chocolate."

"Yeah," he shrugged.

"Hmm, me, too," Eddie said. "What else is in here?"

"Can't tell you, it's my secret," he said.

"I nearly died, and you can't tell me your secret ingredient?!" He asked in disbelief.

"No!" Steve laughed as Eddie invaded his space. "You don't know what boundaries are, do you?"

"You tell me to back off, and I will," Eddie replied.

"It's fine," he blushed.

"I seriously want to think you for saving my life, Steve," Eddie said as he sipped his hot chocolate. "I never wanted to believe that someone like you could be such a good dude."

"I'm sorry," Steve said.

"For what?" He asked.

"That jocks like me have put you through so much hell that that it's made you believe so poorly in the sport," Steve said.

"Well, I suppose it happens with every group. I mean, most people think all metalheads are satanic and evil," Eddie said, rolling his eyes.

"When really they're all a bunch of teddy bears," Steve smirked.

"Shut up," Eddie said. "I suppose we all make assumptions."

"Well, Dustin was right about you. You're a great guy," Steve said.

"Not that I care about what little shrimp thinks," Eddie scoffs, blushing. "Besides, he totally worships you."

"He does?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah, I was super jealous as hell, by the way," he said.

"Yeah, me too," Steve said.

"What brings you out here?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, uh, my parents are actually home for once," Steve said.

"You don't like them, or they don't like you?" Eddie asked.

"I don't like them because they don't like me," Steve replied.

"Damn."

"Yeah. . .my dad is still ragging on me to join him at his company selling insurance, but I do not want to do that," Steve said. "On top of that, they're trying to pick out the girl they want me to marry."

"Jesus," Eddie said. "They can't do that, can they?"

"Well, they have the power to make me homeless, which they have brought up several times," Steve said.

"They're threatening you?! Yeah, I can see why you want to hide from them," Eddie said. "Why are they trying to force you to marry a girl?"

"It's complicated," he said.

"Oh, come on, I saved your life, you owe me," Eddie teased.

"Uh, that's the other way around, asshole," Steve said and laughed.

"You don't have to say anything, man, if you don't want to," Eddie said.

"They walked in on my fucking my now ex-boyfriend. . .who ended things, but apparently I wasn't worth it," Steve said. "So, now they're trying to cover up the fact that their precious boy isn't a freak."

"Jesus, okay, yeah, your parents are fucked in the head. You can't help being gay," Eddie said.

"Bisexual, actually," Steve said.

"Okay, context clues. . .judging by the fact that bi means more than one and sexual means - okay, yeah, okay, I got it, don't explain it to me," Eddie said, and Steve giggled. "You got anywhere else to go? Like people who actually care."

"I mean, yeah, but - "

"If they truly care about you, you're never a burden, no matter how much you mess up," Eddie said. "It took me a long time to realize that with Uncle Wayne."

"Yeah, I got a few people," he blushed.

"Good," Eddie said.

"So, how often do you need saving from yourself?" Steve asked. "Is it a regular occurence?"

"Wayne would tell you that, yes, I can barely get out of the trailer without tripping over my own feet," Eddie said.

"It sounds like you might need me around to save you then," Steve smiled.

"I definitely could, and you being around to pull me off the ledge would save the rest of Wayne's hair," he said, flashing his dimples.

"Sounds like I've got my work cut out for me, then," he said.

"I like to think that I'm worth it," Eddie said.

"I'm definitely starting to see that," Steve said.

"You know, if I were your boyfriend, I think I would have stayed and fought your parents for you. You're definitely worth it," Eddie said, casually sipping his hot chocolate. "So, how serious was this boyfriend of yours?"

"I mean, not very," Steve said. "I wasn't heartbroken when he left. Hey, wait a minute. . .Eddie, do you want to be my boyfriend?"

"Oh, I thought you would never ask!" Eddie exclaimed and kissed his cheek. "Hell yeah, big boy!"

"I wasn't - I mean, you know, what never mind," Steve chuckled. "It worked out."

"Yeah, it did," Eddie said, snuggling into him.

"So, how hard are you going to test my ability to keep you alive?" Steve asked.

"Oh, you have no idea!"

They continued to talk for a long time until they could no longer feel their extremities.

LATER. . .

Steve followed Eddie into his trailer as he barrelled through the front door. Wayne jumped as the front door slammed open.

"Boy, what have I told you about slamming that door and scaring me like that?" Wayne asked.

"To keep it up. You know how you told me that this trailer wasn't big enough for me to be bringing girls over?" Eddie asked. "Well, I found a loophole! I brought a boy home instead!"

"I didn't know you liked boys," Wayne said.

"Until today, I didn't realize that I did either," Eddie said with a grin.

Steve closed the front door behind him and quickly turned to Eddie.

"What?" Steve asked.

"It wasn't until this angel saved me from falling to my death, and no, I'm not being dramatic, that I realized that I also like the boys, specifically this boy," Eddie said.

"I should have suspected this when you offered to introduce me to your uncle," he grinned. "But I didn't realize that you didn't know about yourself until today."

"Sorry," Eddie said. "So, I know it's last minute, but he'll be sleeping in my bed for a few days until he moves into his new place."

"You really save his life?" Wayne asked.

"Oh, yeah," Steve said. "Idiot looked too far over the quarry and nearly fell in."

"Eddie!" Wayne yelled and then laughed. "Sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Steve Harrington," he said and held out his hand for Wayne to shake.

"Steve Harrington, huh?" he asked in amusement as he shook his hand. "Well, thank you, Steve Harrington, for saving my boy."

"It was no problem," he said.

"Enjoy your hair while you can because you're in for it," he said, and Steve snorted at Eddie's yelp. "You're welcome to stay as long as you want."

"He makes wonderful hot chocolate," Eddie said. "Come on."

He followed Eddie into his bed and watched him rush around the room to make it more presentable.

"Eddie," Steve said.

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure about this? It's all happening so fast, and I just want to make sure that you're not jumping in because I saved your life," Steve said.

"I've been struggling with my sexuality for a long time now because other people just automatically make the assumption that just because I'm a freak that I'm also queer," Eddie sighed, "And condsidering that it came from people who just wanted to beat me up all the time, the more I wanted to prove them wrong. Then you came along, and all I wanted to do was to finally stop fighting it. You did that, and it wasn't because you saved my life. It's because you held me after and you didn't let me go. You made me feel safe."

Steve smiled. He cupped Eddie's face and kissed him.

"You made me feel safe, too, right here and right now," Steve said. "Thanks for giving me a place to run to. Hold me?"

"Done."

Eddie dropped the clothes he was holding and pulled Steve onto the bed, right into his safe arms. He didn't have to worry about his parents ever again.

"You're trying to seduce me for my hot chocolate recipe, aren't you?" Steve asked and Eddie laughed.

"You got me!"

Steve smiled as Eddie's laughter caused them both to shake. He pressed his ear close to his chest. He closed his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of Eddie's heartbeat and laughter.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Could I request a Dealer! Remus x Shy! Reader where reader is absolutely terrified of buying their own stuff but her friends are trying to help them out of their shell so instead of taking the money R gives them to buy for them, thier friends write down what they need to say and tell them where to go. And thats where Reader meets Remus (Who is infatuated with them after interacting with them for the first time). If you don't feel like writing it thats totally ok :)))

mary encourages you to buy the weed yourself because she’s pretty sure remus likes you wc:736

“You can do it, babe.” Your friend cheers softly as she hands you a piece of paper with what you need to say.

You’re terrified, knees knocking in the passenger seat as you attempt getting out for the second time.

“Can’t you do it? Please? What if I mess up?” She shakes her head. You’re a shy thing by nature to people who you don’t know and this is a new dealer you’ve only seen twice. You’d never spoken to him and hence the fear for embarrassing yourself in front of him.

“You won’t mess up. He’s nice anyhow, so if you do he won’t care.”

He is nice. Remus, the dealer you’ve seen twice, is as polite as can be and is a gentleman in a way you thought couldn’t possibly exist anymore.

You steel yourself with a final sigh and open the door.

A bell jungles as you push the dispensary door open, and as you take a couple steps inside, a head of sandy brown waves pops up.

“Hiya,” Remus calls, smiling when he sees it’s you. Your chest tightens as you receive his full attention. You can feel your fingers tingling as he waves you over. “Just you today?”

You shake your head, swallowing harshly before saying, “Mary’s in the car.”

He nods, scratching his chin, “Making you do all the hard work huh?”

You offer him a smile but it’s all tight lipped and wrong. If Remus notices, he doesn’t say.

“Could I get our usual?”

You’d look down at the paper if you didn’t feel like he’d be scrutinizing you. What type of smoker is scared to buy their own product?

“Your usual? That’s two ounces right?”

Your hands shake as you pull out a chair at the table.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Remus smiles when you sit at the counter, your legs swinging as you watch him weigh the product.

“Oh,” your voice shakes a little, worse when a single wave caresses Remus forehead and he looks up at you through his lashes. He’s dizzyingly pretty. “And um, two of your snickerdoodle cookies if you have them.”

Remus nods, a kind smile on his face. You’re the cutest customer he has, shyness included. Remus has heard you with your friends when you’re relaxed but he quite likes you to himself.

“That’s no problem, dove.”

Your chest burns at the moniker. You twist the garnet ring around your finger, the stone moving from the outside of your hand to the darkness of your palm over and over.

“Did you finish your book?” Remus asks, remembering from your last visit that you were reading a winter fantasy with your friends.

You perk a little, shoulders relaxing a bit. “I did,” you slide your pendant across the chain as Remus comes to the counter with your bag of cookies and your weed.

“Was it any good?” He smells like weed but something peppery and citrusy under it. Like peppercorns and oranges, and maybe a little pine.

You nod as he rings up your bill. You tap your card on the screen.

“It was, the ending was a bit unconventional, but I suppose that’s fantasy.” It’s the longest sentence you’ve ever spoken to him and for it you’re granted his full smile. The one that makes the scar through his lip look like silver. He really is a handsome man.

“Maybe you can loan it to me? That way we can talk about it better. And while you wait for my thoughts you could read one of mine?”

You give Remus a careful smile of your own. “That could be nice.”

He nods, “Give me a call then and we can meet up to exchange them then. Make a date out of it. Yeah?”

Your eyes widen, Remus thinks of the wide eyes of a horse instantly. The wide, trusting but wonderstruck look they seem to have is mirrored in your own.

“Y-yeah, I’d like that.”

Remus rounds the counter to walk you to the door, his hand hovering over your back and you find even the ghost of his hand pleasant. “My number’s on the cookie bag. Have a good rest of your evening, dove.”

“Than-“ you cut yourself off. “You too Remus.”

Mary’s smug as ever as you sit in the car, her rear view mirror showing Remus leaning on the door as she pulls off. She knew you had it in you.

[capquinn]

how would quinn react to reader doing that prank about when he says “goodbye/goodnight i love you” and you don’t say “i love you” back just to mess with him

omg this guy avoids tiktok like it’s the plague so there is no doubt in my mind that he has absolutely no idea about this trend so he’d be SO confused and wouldn’t know what to do with himself except pout and stay close until he gets to the bottom as to why you hadn’t said it back 😭

Quinn’s brow furrowed the second the words left his mouth and yours didn’t follow.

“See you soon. I love you,” he had said, as casually as ever, tossing his backpack over one shoulder, leaning in for his usual goodbye kiss.

But instead of the automatic, almost musical "love you too," that always followed, there was… nothing. Just you, standing there, watching him with the faintest glimmer of mischief in your eyes. At first, he paused, waiting like you’d simply forgotten. Maybe you were distracted. Maybe you didn’t hear him. He glanced back at the door, then at you again, the crease between his brows deepening.

“You good?” he asked, his voice light but tinged with the slightest bit of uncertainty, like he wasn’t entirely sure if this was normal or if he’d just entered a parallel universe where you suddenly forgot how this whole goodbye thing worked.

“Yeah,” you said breezily, smiling just enough to make him squint.

“Okay,” he said, drawing the word out as he shifted his bag higher on his shoulder.

He moved toward the door, opening it halfway before pausing again. And you could see it — really see it now — the way his mind was spinning, trying to figure out what he’d done, if he’d done anything, and why you weren’t playing along.

He half-turned, his hand on the doorknob, giving you one last expectant look.

“You, uh…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice quieter now. “You sure everything’s okay?”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“Yep.”

And that’s when the full force of Quinn’s what-the-hell-is-going-on face hit you. He didn’t look mad — not even close — but the confusion was written all over him. His mouth opened, closed, and then opened again like he was about to ask a question but didn’t quite know how to phrase it. His hand fell from the door as he took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You didn’t… You didn’t say it back,” he pointed out, almost cautiously, like maybe it wasn’t something you’d realised. “I said 'I love you.' You usually…” He trailed off, his lips pressing into a thin line as he waited for some kind of explanation, one that you weren’t giving because you were too busy pretending you had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. You tilted your head, your expression perfectly blank except for the big, wide eyes you fixed on him.

“Do I not say it enough?” he asked, softer this time, like the words came with a little sting. “Is that what this is?”

And now you felt guilty because, of course, he’d think this was some kind of message, like you were trying to make a point instead of just pulling a dumb prank for no reason other than your own entertainment.

“Quinn,” you started, the smile breaking through despite yourself.

But he cut you off, shaking his head slightly, the tiniest bit of exasperation creeping in.

“Because, like… I mean it every time. You know that, right?”

And now you couldn’t hold it in anymore. The laugh bubbled out, loud and sudden, and you reached for his hand, tugging him closer. “Oh my God, Quinn. I’m kidding. It’s a prank.”

His brow shot up. “A prank?”

“Yeah,” you said, still laughing as you slid your arms around his waist.

He huffed, but there was relief in it, his hands settling on your hips as he gave you a halfhearted glare.

“Not funny,” he muttered, though his lips were already twitching. “I was about to cancel my flight.”

“Sure you were,” you teased, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. He didn’t move, but you could feel the smallest twitch of a smile forming despite the way he was still obviously trying to stay mock-annoyed. “See? You’re too sweet. That’s why I had to mess with you.”

Quinn let out a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head like he was already filing this away as one of the countless pranks he’d endure over a lifetime with you.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his voice gruff but too soft to be anything but affectionate. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You couldn’t help it — you started laughing again, the sound spilling out as you tucked your face against his chest, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

“I love you,” you said through your laughter, your voice muffled.

His smile finally broke free, slow and warm and just so Quinn.

“I love you too,” he said, his tone soft now, steady, like those words were always going to be there no matter how much you tried to mess with him.

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. … instead we’re moving slow, i guess she’s used to it by now.

05, CHAPTER FIVE. YOU BETTER START THINKING.

ju speaks. i procrastinated this so bad lol but i have some time over the break to get some stuff out (more hoaw chapters) so yay! pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual innuendos.

present day, june 2025.

i’m not sure why i let it happen again.

scratch that—i know exactly why. i just don’t want to admit it to myself. it’s always like this with paige and me. a spark, a touch, a stupid comment or argument that turns into something much bigger, much harder to control. we’ve been here before, over and over, in different cities, in different beds, pretending like this time will be the last time. it should’ve been.

the last couple of weeks have been easier than i expected, softer in a way i didn’t know we were capable of. i’m starting to think it’s too good to be true. paige hasn’t been running from me, hasn’t been trying to prove something every second of our time together. maybe that’s why i’ve let my guard down, just a little.

she’s still herself, of course. cocky, loud, and incapable of stilling. but she’s been showing up. not just physically but in the ways i used to hope for back when we were together the first time. it’s in the way she looks at me when she thinks i’m not paying attention, like she did in high school when she told me she never wanted to let go of me. it’s in the way she texts me good morning before i can even think about reaching for my phone, like she’s trying to prove she can still be someone i want to wake up to.

and maybe, stupidly, i’m starting to believe her.

not completely, not yet. paige bueckers has always been good at saying the right things, making promises she’s not ready to keep. but these past weeks, it’s like she’s trying to remind me who she was before everything got so messy. the version of her i fell for in the first place.

but when she’s here, like this? it’s so hard to remember why i ever tried to stay away.

paige is stretched out on her back, arm slung around me, fingers tracing patterns absentmindedly on my shoulder. the sheets are tangled around her bare legs, and she shifts slightly, the motion sending a faint brush of her skin against mine. i glance up at her, and the smug smirk already curling at her lips tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“you staring at me, nai?” she asks. her voice is rough and a little husky from sleep as she stretches. my eyes flash to her exposed abdomen.

“don’t flatter yourself,” i mutter, though it is so obviously a front.

“tooooo late,” she drawls, shifting again so she’s propped up on one elbow, the other hand sliding up to lazily run along my arm. “you’re terrible at pretending you’re not obsessed, by the way.”

i roll my eyes, trying to hide the way my breath hitches at her touch. “says the girl who texted me five times in a row last night because i didn’t answer fast enough.” i lean back against the pillow, staring up at her, and i swear i could forever.

paige’s grin widens, shameless as she looks away. “i mean, what was i ‘posed to do? sit there and wait? nah, i had to apply pressure.” the smugness on her face tells me she’s having way too much fun with this, fun with me.

i snort, shaking my head as i get up, swinging a leg over her and straddling her waist casually. “pressure? you called me a ‘certified flake’ and threatened to pull up if i didn’t respond.”

paige lets out a low laugh, her hands instinctively finding my thighs as i settle over her. “yeah, and look where it got me.” she licks her lips, smirk softening as her eyes flicker over my face, lingering on my lips that are curled up into a smile. “don’t act like you didn’t like the attention.”

i arch a brow, tilting my head to the side. “oh, is that what we’re calling it now?”

her hands tighten on my thighs, smirk faltering for just a second before she regains composure. “mhm. attention. you’re welcome.”

i roll my eyes but don’t pull away, my hands bracing on her chest. how could i? “you’re such a problem.” i bring the comforter we shared last night up over my back, and its like a tent giving us privacy from the sun of my windows. i really need some black-out curtains or something.

“and you love it,” she fires back, her voice dropping, teasing, as her fingers trail upwards, stopping just far enough.

i do. God, i really do.

i smile, and i swear my face hurts from it as i lean down to kiss her. again and again, each one leaving paige chasing after my lips. i savor the moment. i’m not sure how long it’ll be like this, but i like it. a lot. i pull back, resting my head on her chest, breathing in her morning scent as she bites down on her lip in reminiscence.

“tell me i’m wrong,” she murmurs.

i laugh, more of a pity chuckle just because she’s so full of herself. i furrow my eyebrows just slightly, bringing my hand to a resting point right by my face. “i’m not telling you shit, bueckers.”

“yeah? but you didn’t say i was wrong.”

i don’t want to admit it, not to her, not even to myself, but paige knows me better than anyone. she always has. it’s infuriating and comforting all at once, the way she sees through me like i’m an open book. i’m not an open book. i never have been, but for paige…

she doesn’t press, though. she never does when it really matters. she just watches me with that maddening half-smile, her fingers brushing over my skin like she has all the time in the world, and i know she’s waiting for me to say it. to give in.

maybe that’s why i keep coming back. or maybe it’s because she’s the only person who’s ever made me feel this much all at once—frustration, want, affection, something i’m not ready to name. whatever it is, it’s why i don’t pull away, why i let her keep pulling me closer even when i know i should stop.

i shift, the sheets rustling beneath us, and my chest tightens. not about what she said, but what i’m forcing myself to think about. i hate how much i want this, how much i want her, even after everything. especially after everything. but its addicting, and i know she feels the same.

“maybe i’m just a sucker for this,” i mutter, low enough that i’m not sure she hears it.

but of course she does.

she nearly breaks her neck to look down at me. she doesn’t let the words settle. “nah, you a sucker for me.”

i roll my eyes again, avoiding her gaze, but i don’t argue. instead, i lift my head again as i prop myself up on her chest. “what makes you so sure?” it’s a stupid question, but i was fully ready for her to read me.

paige’s smile turns smugger. “because you’re here,” she says simply. “and you’re smiling like that.”

i scoff, trying to play it off, but the way she’s looking at me makes it impossible. i lean down, pressing my lips to hers again, even slower this time. how could i stay away from her when kisses me like this? i feel the way her mouth curves, realizing she’s smiling too.

my hand slides up to cup her face, and she pulls me just a little closer by the small of my back, grip tight like always, like she’s scared i’ll slip. it’s not rushed—in fact, we have a couple hours to be entangled like this before having to part—it’s intentional. like she’s got all the time in the world and wants me to feel it.

and i do.

“it’s—mhm—okay,” paige says, and i find her muffled words rather cute as i shift my hips up, pushing my lips further into hers. her hand slides up my bare back, fiddling with the clasp of my bra. “i am too.”

i pull away, sitting up a little straighter as i quirk a brow at her. “you’re what?” i ask. i decide to help her out, unclasping my bra, but holding the straps up over my chest until she’s finished speaking.

her eyes fall, tongue swiping over her swollen, pink lips. i’m teasing her, i know it, paige definitely knows it. but as she brings her hands up slowly, tearing my own away, i almost forget what i was doing to her in the first place, suddenly fully exposed. i hear her breath hitch. “a big, fat sucker for you.”

i bite back a smile despite her unserious words, because they always make me do that. i roll my eyes, cusping her mouth into my hand playfully as she laughs, shaking out of it.

paige doesn’t hesitate.

she attaches her lips to my collarbone, trails down to the curve of my chest. i look down, and if i didn’t know any better, i’d say paige bueckers is absolutely enamored with me. “so beautiful, baby,” she huskily says, her hands grounding my hips against her as she moves to my tits, attacking the marks she’d left last night so roughly it has my breathing going faster.

i tangle a hand in her hair, fingers tightening reflexively, and it’s like i can’t look away. her face, her lips—every detail feels seared into my memory. “for real,” she continues, and when she looks up at me unexpectedly, lips curving into a small grin, it’s like i’ve completely checked out.

i’m not me anymore, i’m whatever paige wants me to be.

“need you framed or somethin’.” it’s a joke. clearly a joke, nailea. but the way she’s making me feel makes it land differently.

“framed, huh?” i manage.

“yeah,” she replies proudly, like it’s the sweetest thing she’s ever said. “you know, like for the crib. big centerfold. maybe as my lock screen too.”

i can’t help it—i laugh, shaking my head, closing my eyes momentarily as i pretend her words aren’t setting me closer to giving myself to her completely. “you’re so stupid,” i mutter.

paige doesn’t flinch, her grin only widening as she dips her head again, her lips brushing over the swell of my chest. “nah, just honest,” she murmurs against my skin, and the way her voice vibrates there nearly makes me lose it.

i force myself to breathe, leaning back slightly as her hands wander. “maybe you can,” i blurt out without thinking, and she pauses, glancing up at me again.

“what you talkin’ about?” she asks.

i don’t answer right away, leaning over to grab the pink polaroid camera sitting on my nightstand. it’s old and clunky, a relic from freshman year that my dad had given me, and i’d kept it more out of nostalgia than utility. now, though, it feels like fate.

it always does with us.

when i sit back, holding the camera up, paige’s eyes light up, her grin widening into something more troublesome. “nai,” she drags out.

i lift my eyebrows, playing along, like i don’t already know where this is headed. “i’m listening.”

“you not serious,” she shakes her head, voice etched with some laughter. she doesn’t believe it, yet she still tilts her head, sizing me up like she’s already planning the perfect angle.

“thought you wanted me framed, p,” i counter, poking my bottom lip out as i lift the camera a little higher.

her grin deepens, tongue flicking over her teeth as she leans back just enough, hands sliding up and down my legs, creating some sort of friction. she hesitates. “you sure?”

i pretend to think for a moment before responding. “hmm, depends. you gonna cooperate?”

paige chuckles. “oh, i’ll cooperate.” she shifts again, her posture loosening as she leans back against the headboard, one arm draping casually over her head, the other trailing down to rest just between my legs. shes so sexy it’s almost overwhelming. her grin is the same as always, blue hues pierced into me.

“go on then,” she urges. “show me how you see me, baby.”

i adjust the camera into focus, fingers fumbling over the different buttons i’m sure i’ll have to show her have to work before snapping the first photo. the flash and the sun combined cast her in a perfect light, and though she’ll look less defined in the old pixels, the sight’s engraved in my head now.

the whir of the camera fills the room, and the polaroid slides out, landing softly against her chest. paige grabs it, holding it up with a satisfied smirk as the image slowly develops, inspecting it like it’s a prize. she glances at me, her expression softening just a little. “i’m bettin’ you could do better.”

“oh, you think so?” i shoot back, handing her the camera.

“mhm. there a timer on this thing?”

i step out of the shower and into my room, shivering a little as i pull the towel tighter around my chest. paige, completely the opposite temperature of me, must have messed with my thermostat.

i silently curse her for getting so comfortable.

she’s still here, tall figure leaning over the bed she made up. she’s wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts and her sports bra, her phone in one hand, the other lazily shuffling through the scattered polaroids we just took.

“what you doin’?” i ask, tilting my head at her as i walk over, water droplets trailing down my legs.

paige glances up, her blue eyes gleaming like i’ve interrupted something i should’ve known better than to question. “you thought i was lying about my lock screen?” she smugly says, holding up her phone.

i keep my eyes on her, not knowing what to expect as i move closer, the faintest tug of a grin threatening my lips. “what’d you do?” i mutter, snatching her phone to check it for myself.

sure enough, the lock screen now features a series of the pictures we’d taken. i blink, and i think my boiling, hot shower just cleansed every dirty thought i had before getting in, because i don’t remember us being this fucking horny. my cheeks flush despite myself. “paige, you cannot keep this on your phone.”

she strokes her chin, lowly laughing at my reaction. “why not? looks good, don’t it?”

i shake my head as i fight back every inch of amusement that wants to take over me. “it’s unhinged,” i retort, though the corner of my mouth betrays me. a part of me wants her to keep it.

she looks at me, completely unfazed. “everything we just did is unhinged.” well…

before i can think of a snappy comeback, there’s a sudden knock at the front door, loud and authoritative. my heart leaps, and i freeze. paige stiffens too, her smile faltering just slightly.

“shit,” i mutter, tossing her phone back on the bed. “put a shirt on.”

paige doesn’t move immediately, still grinning like she thinks this is funny.

“now, p!” i urge, hitting her arm and scrambling toward my closet for a robe.

“aight, aight,” she finally says, scurrying over and grabbing a shirt off the back of a chair. she takes her time pulling it on, moving like this isn’t urgent, like we’re not one knock away from being exposed.

but then there’s another knock, louder this time. not from the front door—this one is right outside the bedroom.

the fuck?

i freeze, my hand still on the closet door, dread pooling in my stomach.

paige’s eyes widen as realization dawns on her. “yo, who has a key to your apartment?” she mouths, grabbing the polaroids and shoving them under the pillow in a panic.

i shake my head as if to tell her i wouldn’t know before squaring my shoulders, trying to channel a calm i don’t feel. If i act casual, maybe—just maybe—i can smooth this over. except i don’t know who it is. we don’t know who it is. i tie the robe around myself and open the door slowly, preparing for the worst.

and there she is. cameron brink.

her arms are crossed as she scans the room, and she doesn’t have a reaction to paige’s presence in the slightest bit. i speak first. “how’d you—“ i start, but she cuts me off, holding up a pink key decorated with yellow daisies attached to her keychain.

well, shit.

“i had a feeling i’d need this,” she says coolly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “and your locations.” her eyes flick over my robe, then to paige standing awkwardly by the bed, and then back to me.

“bye, paige,” she says pointedly, not even giving her the courtesy of a glance as she busies herself by stuffing her keys into her purse.

paige hesitates, looking between me and cam, clearly debating whether to say something. i’ve got my own arms crossed, chewing down on my lip like a kid in trouble. she takes the hint, and finally, she steps toward me, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before grabbing her phone and heading toward the door. “i’ll… catch you later.”

if it weren’t for the predicament we were in, i’d call her adorable.

the door closes behind her, leaving me alone with cam, and i don’t even have to look at her to know what’s coming.

“really?”

i roll my eyes, crossing my arms tighter against my chest. i shouldn’t be upset with her though. i’m deflecting. “you stalking me now?”

cam smirks, but there’s no humor in it. “i came to apologize for what happened at the bar,” she says. “in person, because i haven’t seen you. but now i know why—you’ve been busy.” her voice has something etched in it, almost like she’s disappointed in me, but at the same time, knew.

i look away, fingers curling around the fabric of my robe. “it’s not like that,” i mutter, but even i don’t believe it. not really. it is like that. and maybe i’m just too tired of pretending i can stay away.

“isn’t it? i thought you were done with her,” she says, her brows raising like she’s daring me to lie.

i let out a breath, awkwardly keeping my hands to my sides as i sit on the edge of the bed. “me too.”

“then why is she leaving your apartment like a one-night stand?”

“because—” i start, but the words stick in my throat. what was i supposed to say? that seeing paige nearly every day had unraveled every ounce of willpower i had? that being around her felt like falling into an old habit, comfortable and impossible to resist?

“you try having your ex-girlfriend get drafted to the team you work for,” i say finally.

still, she rambles. “and maya?” cam presses. she’s so worried about it you’d think it was her problem. “they’re seeing each other, you know that, right?”

i close my eyes for a moment, guilt clawing at my chest. that wasn’t fair. “we haven’t…” i trail off, shaking my head. “we haven’t been thinking that far.”

cam exhales, hand running down her face. “that’s the problem, nai. you’re not thinking.”

her words settle into the room, a bit harsh for me to hear, but not untrue. and maybe that’s what stings the most—that i’ve been avoiding this conversation with myself for weeks. the truth is, i haven’t thought about anything beyond the way paige makes me feel when she’s close, the way her voice drops when she says my name, the way her hands feel like they’re meant to pull me back in no matter how far i run. i haven’t thought about maya, about what it would mean for her to find out, about how i’d explain myself if it came to that. i haven’t thought about the job i fought so hard to get, and how quickly it could all fall apart if this got out.

i look at cam. she looks like she’s seen this all before. she hasn’t. she hasn’t even seen half of it and wants better for me. she loves us both, i know that. but apart better than together.

i bite my lip, frustration pooling in my gut as i try to put my thoughts together. somehow, the only thing i can think about is how this isn’t just paige and i’s secret anymore, and i should fight to keep it under wraps until we figure it out. “please don’t tell maya,” i plead.

cam looks at me, her expression unreadable for a long moment before she sits down beside me, close but not touching. “you know i won’t.” i feel a sense of relief. “but promise me you’ll start thinking. about how this affects your job. about you.” she chuckles dryly, emphasizing that i don’t really have a choice.

i suppose she’s right. she is right.

[covenofagatha]

Mistakes have been made this afternoon. I have had sake and no food, so fuck it, I'm going to be brave. Agatha/reader, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, oral sex, degradation, praise, and breeding kink if you are still taking requests.

Of course! And to everyone else who requested a fic, they should hopefully be up soon!

A gala to remember

You're feeling a little neglected by your girlfriend so you take advantage of her unfounded jealousy while at a work event for her

Word count: 2400

Warnings: literally pure filth, semi-public sex, girl penis Agatha, cum, creampie, blowjob, vaginal sex, degradation, praise, breeding kink, I think that's it

There’s not enough appetizers at the fancy annual gala for the company your girlfriend works at to make you stop being mad at said girlfriend. 

That doesn’t mean you’re not going to try though. 

You’re on your second shrimp cocktail when Agatha comes over to where you’re standing and tightly grabs your arm. 

“Come over here. And put that down,” she hisses in your ear and drags you across the room. You yank your elbow out of her grasp and deliberately pretend that you don’t see her scowl at you. 

It has been a week since the two of you have had sex. You can’t blame Agatha, work for her is really busy this time of the year, but she has come home late every single night since Monday and you’ve barely seen her. 

She had been promising all week that on Friday night – tonight – she would be home early and the two of you would make up for lost time. You had even gone out and bought some new lingerie. You missed the feeling of Agatha’s cock inside you and you couldn’t wait for the end of the week. 

Until Thursday morning, before she had rushed out of the house, she had told you that she was expected at the company’s gala the next night and she wanted you to come with her. 

Normally, you wouldn’t mind attending a work event with your girlfriend, but a lot of feelings had become pent up over the week and there was also the fact that she had given you a day’s notice on cancelling the plans she had made. 

So yeah, you were being a bit of a brat. 

And Agatha was fully aware of that, and wasn’t having any of it. 

“You need to behave,” she whispers before the two of you approach a group of co-workers. 

“Or what?” You scoff sardonically. “Not going to fuck me for another week?” 

“Watch me,” she shoots back. And then she plasters on a fake smile. “Hey, guys, this is my girlfriend, y/n.” She introduces you to everyone, three men and two women. You politely shake their hands, barely even looking at them, until you get to the last woman, Rio. 

She’s a little younger than Agatha, her pale skin contrasts beautifully with her golden-brown eyes. She’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit, like Agatha, and there’s something about her intense energy that seems to draw you in. 

Speaking of Agatha, she must notice how you’re staring at Rio because she clears her throat and wraps an arm around your waist. 

“Oh, that reminds us, Agatha,” one of the men booms. They’ve been talking about something for the past few minutes but you’ve been zoning out, bored almost to tears. “We need to borrow you for a few seconds upstairs. There’s a contract we need you to look over.” 

Agatha squeezes your waist and you shoot her a pleading look but she’s already leaving with two of the guys. The group disbands and you awkwardly go find an empty table to stand at and eat more shrimp.

Great. Now you’re mad, miserable, and alone. 

Except, maybe not all alone. 

Rio saunters up to the table, holding two glasses of champagne. She hands one to you and silently toasts. You take a sip. 

“Big fan of these parties?” You ask, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that has settled over your table. She shrugs noncommittally.

 “They’re good for the company,” she says. “I don’t particularly enjoy parties.” 

You raise your glass to that. “Join the club. I’m only here because Agatha made me.” Maybe you shouldn’t be speaking ill of your girlfriend to her co-worker but you kind of want to vent to someone. 

Rio rests her head on her elbows and her eyes widen. “Agatha Harkness’s girlfriend. What is that like? Is she as much of a boss in the bedroom as she is in the office? Or is she one of those powerful people who submits completely?”

Images and memories of Agatha in the bedroom flit through your mind (she is definitely not the latter) and you choke on your drink, sending you into a coughing fit. Rio chuckles knowingly.

“That’s an interesting question to ask someone you just meant,” you say once you’re finally able to breathe again, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well, I’m an interesting person,” she retorts with a smirk. You nod in agreement and laugh. 

And that’s when you feel a hand on your lower back and a presence right behind you. You whirl around, afraid it’s some old man, but it’s your girlfriend. 

“Agatha!” Rio exclaims with delight. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”

“Excuse us,” Agatha says rudely and grabs your hand to drag you up the stairs of the event center. 

You roll your eyes exasperatedly. “What, Agatha?”  

She doesn’t say anything until you’re past the top of the stairs and she spins you around and shoves you against one of the pillars. You wince at the cold marble on your cheek but you’re quickly distracted by the feeling of Agatha’s body against your back. 

Particularly, her semi-hardened cock. 

“Were you seriously flirting with Rio Vidal?” She taunts right into your ear. “Was that some pathetic play to get me to notice you?”

You want to tell her that no, of course not, you weren’t even flirting and the only reason Rio had come over was because Agatha had left you all alone, but you don’t do any of that. Instead you wiggle your ass against her, enjoying her sharp intake of breath, and ask, “Did it work?” 

She growls and flips you around, forearm coming up to your throat. “Listen to me, little girl,” she says threateningly. “You are mine.” 

“Oh, am I?” You simper innocently. “I must’ve forgotten in the past week while you’ve been too tired to show me.” 

Her eyes flash with something dangerous. “Get on your knees.” 

It makes you falter. “What?” You look around the two of you. There’s no one up on the second floor right now, but Agatha and her co-workers had just been up here a second ago so who’s to say that won’t happen again? You aren’t exactly hidden from view from the people on the ground floor either. 

“Did I stutter?” 

Despite your reservations, you can feel how wet you’re getting and how much you’ve missed having Agatha like this. So you hike up your floor-length gown and slowly drop down to the floor. The tile hurts but you don’t care. 

You reach up to unzip Agatha’s pants and pull her cock out. The tip is already red and leaking with precum and you gasp at the sight, feeling an ache start to grow inside you. 

“Better go fast before someone catches you,” she says, weaving her hand through your blonde hair. You’d like to remind her that if you get caught, she’ll be the one who gets in the most trouble, but she’s right. There isn’t time for that. 

You drag your tongue up the bottom of her cock and swirl it around the tip, getting immense pleasure when she lets out a small groan. You’ve almost forgotten how good she tastes. 

“God, you’re such a good slut for me,” she says. She collects your hair in a pony-tail as you start to bob your head up and down her dick. You can feel it twitch in your mouth and you tease the vein along the side which makes her hips jump. 

You swallow around her and try to push yourself further down. When you get close to gagging, you come back to lick at her tip while your hand strokes your saliva up and down the rest of her cock. 

“You look so fucking pretty with your mouth stretched around me,” Agatha groans. “Fuck, baby, can I use your mouth?”

You nod eagerly, peering up at her through your eyelids. Something about her using you like a toy really gets to you. 

And then you open your mouth wide and let her fuck her cock into you. You really hope the wet sounds you’re hearing are not as loud for everyone else. 

The need to breathe is burning in your lungs and your eyes are tearing up, but you can tell Agatha is close to cumming based on the tightening grip in your hair, the blissed expression on her face, and the way her cock is stuttering on your tongue. You want her to cum all over your face when she suddenly stops and pulls out of you. Air rushes into you and you cough weakly. 

“What?” You ask, a little disappointed. Without answering, she pulls you off your knees and pushes you back against another wall. She parts your dress at the slit and slides a hand through it to cup you over your underwear, smirking triumphantly when she finds you soaked. 

“God, sucking me off where anyone could see like a whore really does it for you, doesn’t it?” She taunts. “So pathetic, baby. So needy. You want me to fuck you so badly, don’t you? That’s why you’ve been such a brat this whole night, right? You want my attention, my cock in you so bad that this is how you’re acting?” 

Embarrassment colors your cheeks but you hold your head high. Nothing she said was false. “What are you going to do about it?” 

She scoffs and smirks. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m going to remind you who you belong to, because apparently a little slut like you needs a constant reminder.” She directs you to hike your dress up and she slides your underwear to the side. She positions one of your legs over her hip and without preamble, she thrusts her cock all the way into you. Your head falls back against the wall with a loud moan. 

Agatha clamps her hand over your mouth and stays still. She is filling you up so perfectly, even if it’s been a week since you’ve taken her. The delicious stretch is exactly what you’ve been missing. 

“Please, Aggie,” you whimper and she starts to move, hitting your special spot every time. “Feels so good.” 

“God, you’re taking my cock so well,” she grunts, picking up her pace. Your mouth falls open but no noise comes out. “It’s like you were made for me. So perfect, angel. Such a good girl.” You nod your head and roll your hips with every one of her thrusts. 

“Agatha, oh my god,” you moan, feeling her nails dig into your hips through her dress. You know that she’s close, can feel her throbbing inside you, and you’re not too far behind. 

“Such a desperate slut,” she croons. If there’s one thing about Agatha you love, it’s how quickly and effortlessly she can go from praise to degradation and back. “Needing me so bad, making me fuck you at my work event because a whore like you wants to be filled. Where anyone could walk up here and see how desperate you are for me. I want them to see what a whore I make you into. Especially Rio. Want her to know who you belong to. Fuck, sweetheart. Want me to fill you up, baby?” 

The thought of her spilling her cum inside you makes you clench even more around her cock. You absolutely love the feeling: the warmth, the way it feels leaking out of you, the times Agatha would eat you out after and taste the mix of your wetness with her cum and then kiss you so you could taste it too. 

“Yes, please, Aggie, fill me up, breed me,” you whine, whispering the two words that the both of you only use on special occasions. 

It has the intended effect because a feral look settles in Agatha’s eyes and she fucks into you with renewed vigor, hands gripping you so hard you think you’ll have bruises tomorrow. 

Or at least you hope. 

“Gonna breed you, baby, gonna fill you up with my cum,” she pants, the effort getting to her a little. “Cum all over my cock like the perfect slut that you are.” 

You take a hand off her shoulder to reach down and rub your clit and that little extra spark of pleasure sends you orgasming all over Agatha’s cock. Her hips splutter and she lets out a long sigh before you feel her twitch inside you and then a spurt of warmth fills you. You moan at the feeling, almost cumming again.

She stays in you until she softens and the second she pulls out, she wipes her cock all over your pussy to clean herself off, smearing the mess all over you, and tugs your lacy underwear back into place. You bite your lip at the feeling of her cum dripping out of you and when you take a shaky step towards her, you can feel how drenched your panties are, coated with a mixture of the two of you. 

And now you have to spend the rest of the night like that. 

“I promise I’ll clean you off when we get home,” Agatha says, teasing smirk telling you that her tongue will definitely be involved. You clench around nothing at her words and the images they bring, and you can feel more of her cum ooze out. You’re able to tell that some of it is on your inner thighs and you really hope it’s not visible through the dress. Or on the dress. 

But you don’t have time to worry about that. Agatha kisses you softly and pulls you in for a hug. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t made time for you this week,” she murmurs. “I’m all yours this weekend, I swear on my life. I told the guys earlier that if they had a problem, they’d have to figure it out themselves or wait until Monday.” 

You tighten your arms around her, feeling suddenly giddy. “Thank you, baby.”

Agatha reluctantly steps away after a few more moments of holding you close and you miss her body against yours. “Shall we rejoin society?” 

You pretend to think about it for a second until she smiles and then you take her hand. She leads you back down the stairs, her cum still seeping out of you.