#((good morning it is Sunday and before i do any fun things—i have to make everybody sad af 💚))

[quccninchains]

the morning after her wedding night to king viserys, queen alicent awoke alone in the great bed—the quilt pulled to her chin to hide herself—to see the eyes of her maids waiting to take the sheets and present them to the small council, and her father

there was no good morrow kiss, no whispered words of endearment—she was expected to face her mortification with all the grace of a queen and that is exactly what she did

[kiztae]

hi! if ur not too busy do u think u could come up with something for size kink w soobin? pls & thank you ! 💛

SIZE KINK — c.soobin

genre: afab!reader, very suggestive, brothers bestfriend!soobin, bulge kink, size kink (duh), making out, dry humping, dirty talk? that's probably it. wc: 1.8k [requested]

a/n: might be a bit short. hope you enjoy anon!

just like any other saturday, soobin came over to visit your older brother beomgyu and spend the rest of it playing games in his room. it wasn't new to find soobin in the living room, sitting in the couch and scrolling through his phone mindlessly.

it was only natural, considering he almost lived there with you guys with how often he’d come by. so when you crossed his path, you didn't really mind it and conformed to uttering a soft 'hi soobin' before stepping into the kitchen.

"hi y/n" he looks up with a raise of his eyebrows in acknowledgment, shutting off his phone and standing up slightly to move towards the kitchen island. "how's today treating you?" he inquires with a playful smile as he leans over the counter with his elbows.

“it’s treating me fine, soobin. what about you?” you say between yawns while pouring yourself a glass of water.

you had just woken up a few minutes ago, whenever it was sunday you allowed yourself to sleep in as much as you’d like. which is why you were currently standing in the kitchen, wearing your small pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt you found in your brothers room, at noon.

“so far, so good. but i have to say, it’s even better now that you’re here.” he adds boldly, looking down at the marble and then back up at you.

you could see his eyes glimmer mischievously as he ended his sentence, the two orbs dropping lower and trailing down your exposed collarbones, your chest that was exposing just about enough cleavage to help his imagination, and finally, your hands. everything about you looked so dainty and small, soobin couldn’t help but think about how adorable and weirdly hot he found it.

hell, he knew it was wrong to think about his best friend's little sister under this lewd light but it was just so hard not to.

“you really have a way with words don’t you? save them for the girls on your campus.” you grin in response, emptying the glass of cold water in your mouth and feeling the new energy flowing through your body.

if you had to be honest, it’s not like you hadn’t thought about soobin like that before. you were aware of how attractive he was and especially how close to your ideal type he proved to be. soobin was tall, handsome and a literal giant in proportions but also adorable and cute at times.

nevertheless, you pushed those thoughts away quickly whenever you remembered who he was to you. he was your brother’s best friend, he was older than you, he had many other things he could care about other than you… so why bother?

sure, it wouldn't be awful to have some fun with him, especially after not having any form of sexual activity in the past months (not even a kiss), but you were sure it was all not going to happen anyway. so, you tried your best to stay unfazed by his comments and approaches, figuring he was just teasing you.

“i’m not sweet talking you y/n. i’m—“ before he could continue, beomgyu walked into the room with a loud “you can use the shower now!”, signaling that you could start your morning routine and that he could get back to hanging out with his best friend.

“what are you doing here? you could’ve waited in my room man.” he says with an awkward laugh as he taps his friend’s back.

“well, see you around.” you bid your goodbye and go off to continue with your day, not bothering to finish the earlier conversation.

-

why was getting up suddenly so hard? some sort of heavy weight was placed on top of you, not letting you move up or even around in the room of your mattress. this was not like any other sunday morning. were you still dreaming? after squirming in place for a little more you opened your eyes slowly and looked around despite the hazy vision of your only recent wake up call.

moving around (if you could even call it that) helped you figure out two things: 1. whatever it was that was stopping you was laying half on top of you and pressing your side 2. it was breathing. as soon as you realized the second, you started kicking your feet up and turning around in a hurry like crazy.

"woah—! what the—!" the lump under the other blanket started to blurt out in panic, until it moved up and revealed itself. that's when you were met with a confused soobin with the biggest case of bed hair you've seen.

before you could process it, he swiftly took your wrists into his hands and pushed them against the mattress effortlessly, shifting completely on top of you to keep your legs caged between both of his on your sides with ease. finally, if he got kicked once more he was sure he would get bruises.

"hey—!" you shout against his defense before his right palm comes up to cover your mouth clumsily. it was ridiculous how much of your face his hand covered then, all of your jaw and part of your neck being hidden behind it.

"shhh. don't you realize it's super early in the morning?" he whisper-shouts back, frowning and staring into your eyes, finally.

you relaxed and twisted your head around to take in the room, noticing that it was indeed still dark and that the sunset hadn't even happened yet. once you took it in, you took in the sight of soobin, at last. he was breathing loudly, his hair messy, his shirt hanging low on his chest and his eyes waving around as he looked into yours.

"why are you in my bed?" you murmur with a confused frown once he removed his hand, your breathing starting to speed up when you realize the position you're in right now. god, you hoped he was still sleepy enough to not notice the pink blooming in your cheeks.

"i— i don't know. i thought i went into beomgyu's room after i woke up to drink some water... but i guess not." he trails off, his eyes dipping lower from your eyes to your neck, your disheveled hair, your shirt that bunched up and exposed your waist, until he came back up to stare at your mouth for longer.

"i guess not..." you imitate quietly when your gaze also lays on his pouty lips and then back to his eyes.

"i'm sorry y/n" he states in a more deep voice, his tone sounding hushed as he leaned in closer to you, the hand holding your wrist pushing further up and the other dipping the mattress on your side.

"huh? for what?" you mutter out in surprisement at the sudden apology, your voice breaking softly once you feel him get closer.

"for not holding myself back." he whispers back, his hand interlacing with yours and pinning it deeper into the sheets as he catches your breath in a swift kiss. the action earned a small gasp from you, your form stiffening under his hold briefly, unsure of what was happening, until you sighed into his mouth and leaned in.

he softly groaned in satisfaction once he felt you relax and open your mouth more for him, granting him permission to kiss you deeper. "i'm such a shit best friend aren't i? i just couldn't hold it in anymore." he comments as he leaves your lips for a second, the loss of contact already making you disappointed.

but he doesn't stop. his free hand grazes your side softly and grasps your waist roughly, another gasp coming from you that's quickly swallowed by soobin's lips on yours. his kisses are desperate, hungry even. it's like he doesn't want to waste a single second when he's kissing you.

his tongue dips into your bottom lip and then brushes against yours, the wet sound of it starting to get more noticeable as his mouth melts with yours. you weren't sure you expected soobin to get messy like this, saliva mixing with yours, kisses sloppy and needy, you were loving it.

soobin was heavy on top of you, he was making sure he didn't lay his whole body weight, knowing for sure he would crush you, but he was letting himself press against you just enough for you to be trapped below him. if he wanted to, he could do anything he wanted to you, easily. he could make you his personal ragdoll, move you around however he wanted, take you however he wanted.

as his mouth detached from yours to dip lower and start biting and nipping at your neck, the hand on your waist trailed up and stopped right before your breast. "can i? please.." he says in a hushed voice as he licks a small stripe on the bites he left, his breathing ragged already. following your nod he takes your breast in his hand, his grasp being enough to cover it whole. once he gets permission his hands start roaming around your body more and more, grabbing whatever he can. his palms kneading your ass, then playing with your nipples, grasping your hip tightly as he groans into your mouth between kisses.

"you're so small— i could break you if i'm too rough, couldn't i?" he purrs into your ear, biting your earlobe gently and grinning. he didn't know what got into him but seeing you so weak and helpless in his hold was driving him crazy, he never knew he was so big until now.

"you're just— too big." the whiny tone in your voice as you replied was what did it for him. how could you say that to him and expect him not to go insane?

"fuck, don't do that to me." he blurts out as he lets his head fall on your chest, his hands tightening around your hips. "i won't be able to stop." he warns before his fingers dig into your sides and he pushes himself against you, his giant bulge rubbing on your underwear harshly.

"oh my god— soobin, you're huge" you moan out as the shocks of pleasure hit you, your hips instantly jolting forwards to meet his. at this, he starts thrusting his hips harder and faster against you, rocking the bed carelessly.

"yeah? bet that if i fucked you, you'd have a bulge right here. wouldn't you baby?" he questions while rubbing your tummy right above where his dick was pushing into you. "i'd fuck you so deep, you'd feel it in your stomach." he adds with a smirk, looking right into your eyes as if to taunt you. he never once stopped rocking his hips against you, the tip of his cock starting to leak through his boxers and onto your panties, hitting you right with each thrust.

"then do it." you plead in between whines, taking his cheek in your hand and staring into his eyes desperately. "fuck me until you break me."

-

© kiztae, 2023

[here2bbtstrash]

sunday (explicit)

genre: straight-up smut baybey, i did it y'all i wrote a pwp again

pairing: seokjin x reader

summary: you got your boyfriend exactly what he wanted for his birthday.

word count: 5k

contains: explicit sexual content~*~ say it with me: BRAT 👏 TAMER 👏 SEOKJIN 👏 established relationship, reader is uhhh 😬 Extremely bratty lmao, jin takes care of that, BDSM dynamics (mention of safewords and hand signals but neither are used!), reader gets spanked with a belt oop 🤭, fingering/a lil bit of eating it from the back, orgasm denial, big dick jin 😏, praise kink, mouth/throat fucking, a bit of breathplay, begging and apologizing, oh yeah she cries... like.... kind of a lot 🥲 there's a dacryphilia moment in there too (~*~add a little spice~*~), unprotected sex but they're in love it's fine, lots of subspace at the end, use of a vibrator, overstimulation, she comes.... idek how many times, and a smidge of aftercare 🫠 also i promise there's no food play, you'll get why the cake's there at the end ok lmao

A/N: a day late and a dollar short but hey that's my mental health rn 🫡 this was fun!!! always nice to dust off the ol' pwp muscles and frankly i've been itching to write proper BDSM for a bit now. sometimes you just wanna get the shit beat out of you lovingly and that's valid and sexy ya know. anyway feel free to silently skip this one if it's not for you!! and i know i'm gonna get a comment on it so 🙄 i used his korean age on purpose lmao 🙄 yes i can count and yes i know their system is changing~ ANYWAY i sincerely hope you enjoy babes and that you all had a lovely seokjin day 🥺 i loooove y'all !!! 💜

thank you to @haliiimede for beta reading and being my soulmate 🥺

read on AO3!

~*~

The slam of the front door tells you that your plan for today has worked perfectly.

Standing in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, you adjust a final strap on your bralette, then quickly scramble to pull your clothes back on. You attempt to keep your expression innocent as you slip down the hallway to greet your boyfriend.

Before you can even make it, you hear the unmistakable pop of a wine bottle being uncorked, and you enter the kitchen just in time to see Seokjin leaning up against the counter with a glass of white in hand. He doesn’t look particularly pleased to see you.

“Hi baby,” you say, sweet as can be. “Can I have a glass?”

A muscle works in his jaw as he looks you over, and the expression on his face already has a flame licking in the pit of your stomach.

“That's all you have to say?” he finally answers.

You blink up at him, feigning ignorance. Your heartbeat has started to race behind your ribs, sensing imminent danger— the good kind.

“I haven't heard from you all day today,” he tries again.

You shrug. “I was still sleeping when you left this morning, and then, I don't know. I was doing things. Does it matter?” If Seokjin wasn’t already pissed, you know your last question will get him. You turn away to busy yourself with retrieving a wine glass so he can’t see the smile you’re trying to bite back.

The tone of his voice makes you freeze, glass in hand. “I don't recall saying you could have any.”

Your lower lip juts out automatically, and you do your best to steady your breathing without making it apparent. Even your voice comes out a little shaky. “But we always share.”

The silence in the kitchen feels deafening, punctuated by the soft tap of Seokjin setting his glass on the counter. You mirror him, swallowing hard as he steps in to close the distance between you. It never gets any less exciting to have him tower over you, big and broad-shouldered, tall enough that you have to look up through your lashes to meet his gaze. A dull ache starts to pulse between your legs.

“Do you know what today is?”

You lick your lips and try to speak. “Sunday?”

It’s like you barely get the word out before he’s gripping your jaw with one large hand, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. Anticipation buzzes through your body, all the way down to your toes, as he forces your chin up.

“Anything else?” His voice sounds like a warning.

Your mouth pulls into a grin beneath his grasp, one you can’t quite manage to keep innocent. “Oh, Seokjin, is it your birthday? I knew I was forgetting something. Oops.”

“Fucking brat.”

All at once Seokjin locks an arm around your hips, and you let out a shrill squeak as your feet leave the floor entirely when he outright slings you over his shoulder. This is, of course, exactly what you’d hoped for, but you struggle a little in his grip nonetheless. All part of the fun.

You’d left the bedroom door cracked on your way out to greet him, and he takes the opportunity to kick it back open. A shiver runs up your spine at the sight, and then you hit the bed hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs.

You push up onto your hands as you sit up, slightly dizzy.

“That hurt, Seokjin,” you whine, but you both know you don’t mean it. You have agreed-upon methods of telling him when he’s really hurting you in a way that doesn’t feel good: safewords, even hand signals for when you’re rendered non-verbal. Anything said that isn’t one of those is just you running your mouth on purpose, winding him up. Like now. “You’re being so dramatic.”

“And you’ve got a fucking attitude today,” he snaps. “Is this really how you want to do this? On my fucking birthday?”

You blink up at him with the same sweet smile. “What if I told you I got you a present?”

This seems to surprise him a little, and he pauses, like he doesn’t quite buy it. “A present, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” You nod as you get to your feet. “Let me unwrap it for you.”

Taking your time with it, you peel off your sweatshirt and leggings to reveal the lingerie you pulled on as he was coming home. It’s a soft pink set with a floral design, thin straps, and romantic lace, and you happen to think it does wonders for your curves.

“What do you think?”

You can see the hungry gleam in Seokjin's eyes even as he scoffs, feigning disinterest. “Oh, this is my present? A disrespectful brat that I have to teach a lesson? I should rip this shit off.”

“Hey, this was expensive!” you snap, and he arches an eyebrow as if to give you a final chance to behave. It just makes you want to push him that much further.

You step closer, allowing a perfect line of sight to your tits that threaten to spill out of their confinements, and you soften your voice when you speak again. “What, you don’t forgive me, Seokjin?”

The corner of his mouth just barely ticks up. “You know the rules. Forgiveness is earned.”

He reaches a hand down to undo the buckle of his belt, and your nipples are suddenly painfully hard against the lace fabric. You can’t remember the last time he used his belt. Fuck, he’s really mad.

“Bend over.”

You huff a sigh as you drape yourself over the edge of the bed, and his hands are already on your ass. He makes a low noise of appreciation as his fingertips dig into your supple skin, pressing firm enough to make you wince. He's not being gentle, and you don’t want him to be.

Your eyes flutter closed in enjoyment of being manhandled like this, and you get so lost in it that it takes you a second to realize Seokjin has asked you a question. By then it’s already too late.

He gives a warning slap to your ass as he repeats himself. “I said, how old am I?”

You peek over your shoulder, wiggling your ass against the flat of his palm, only for him to smack you hard over your left cheek. You bite back a whimper, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“I don't know,” you lie, blinking up at him. “You’re so old now, it’s hard to remember.”

In one swift move, he yanks his belt out from around his waist, and you swallow hard as you watch him fold it over in his hands.

“Then why don’t you fucking count for me.”

The belt cracks down over your ass, and you flinch at the first real rush of pain. It takes you a second to regain focus, your brain still buzzing from the hit, and then his words come back to you.

“One.”

“So you are capable of listening, huh?”

Another hit, equally as hard on the other side, and you grit your teeth.

“Two.”

“Aw, where’d that smart mouth go? Not so chatty now?” Seokjin cracks the belt again, and you can barely get the word three out before four is being delivered just as harshly. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to breathe. He's really hitting hard tonight.

“Four,” you gasp, and you hear Seokjin exhale a dark laugh above you.

“Better toughen up, sweetheart. We’ve got a long way to go.” Another hit in the same spot, this one enough to really sting.

“Five.”

“You know, since I'm so old.”

The next blow he delivers is so hard, the word comes out as a cry of pain. “Six!”

You flatten your pelvis down against the sheets, as if in an attempt to hide from the beating, but there’s nowhere to go. The extra pressure makes you feel how hard your clit has started to throb from your punishment. You bury your face in the crook of your elbow, your hips jerking reflexively as you moan through seven, eight, nine.

Every muscle in your body seizes taut as you prepare for ten, trying to encourage yourself to breathe through it, though all you can get out right now are shallow gasps for air. I can take this, you tell yourself, I can take this.

But it doesn’t come. You’re pulled so tight you think you might snap, and you manage to lift your head up from your arms to look back at Seokjin.

“There she is,” he says, and the soft tone of his voice in no way influences how hard he brings the belt down over your ass.

“Ten!” you groan, and the sharp bite of pain over your already raw skin nearly brings tears to your eyes. And he’s not even halfway done.

It’s all you can do now to remember what number you’re on, especially as Seokjin continues to allow torturously long pauses between his hits. He'll wait just long enough that your heartbeat starts to slow, teasing the thin length of the belt up the backs of your thighs, sometimes even with a laugh.

But it’s not relief: the waiting keeps every inch of you on edge, all wound up with anticipation of the next dose of pain, so tense you’re not sure you’re breathing.

You’ve hardly choked out fourteen when you flinch at a brush of contact, the warm touch of skin where you were expecting the crack of leather. Letting your forehead drop against the bed, you pant like you’ve just run a marathon as Seokjin's hand moves over your abused flesh, groping and massaging as he did before. You can’t tell if it’s been minutes or hours since then, but his touch is grounding, calming, even when his fingers sink into your fresh bruises with enough force to make you whimper.

You can feel the way the seam of your panties sticks to your center now, and you can only imagine that they must be entirely soaked through, your slickness already starting to paint the crux of your thighs. With a soft whine of need, you spread your legs a little wider in search of anything but more pain.

“What do you think?” Seokjin's voice is dark when he speaks, thick with lust. The thought of him straining hard against his pants has you practically drooling on the mattress. You want nothing more than that cock stretching you open right now. “Starting to learn your lesson?”

As much as the rational part of you appreciates the check-in, you can’t ignore the new rush of rebellion that surges up at the question. What, does he think you need him to go easy? Does he think you’re not tough enough, that you can’t take everything he’s willing to give you?

You push up to look over your shoulder at him again, your jaw set firm. “No.”

Anger flashes over his face, but he can’t quite hide his smile. “Then I guess I can stop holding back.”

Shit, he was—? You don’t get the opportunity to finish that thought before the loop of his belt is whizzing through the air, and the impact it makes against your ass hits so hard, you momentarily see stars. “Fuck!”

“That's not a fucking number.”

“Fifteen,” you gasp, dropping limp against the bed like a ragdoll, breathless with relief that you didn’t lose track. “Fifteen.”

“The brat can count,” Seokjin remarks, and then he delivers sixteen just as hard and your whole body spasms from the pain as you choke out the number. “If only you knew how old I was, you might have some idea of how much longer I have to beat your ass.”

Your eyes are really starting to well up now, but you force yourself to keep breathing, to focus on his words. It might be coded to fit the scene, but it’s a clear reminder nonetheless: you’re more than halfway. You can do this.

By twenty, the tears have started to spill down your face, but Seokjin knows you well enough to know the scene doesn’t stop unless you call a safeword. He trusts you to know your own limits, and you do. But fuck, he can really test them sometimes. You’re dying for him to touch you, fuck you, do anything but keep fucking beating you. It’s taking everything in you to keep going, your feet kicking helplessly each time he brings the belt down over your tender backside. He hasn’t lightened the weight of his hits up even in the slightest. If anything, they’re only getting worse.

“Twenty-one,” you breathe. You only have ten hits left, and you’ve already gotten through ten hits twice now. You can do this.

“Twenty-two.” You tell yourself not to fight it.

“Twenty-three.” Just give into the pain.

“Twenty-four.” Submit.

Your shoulders heave with sobs as the twenty-fifth strike finally, finally breaks your last resolve. You press your face into the mattress; you’re crying so hard you can scarcely breathe. Even though your body keeps flinching with the reflexive animal reaction to try and get away from the pain, your mind has fully accepted your punishment, all the fight gone out of you.

It’s like someone else is counting for you now, so much so that you don’t even realize what number Seokjin is on until the words leave your mouth.

“Thirty-one.”

You hear the jingle and thud of the belt hitting the floor, and then his gentle hands are encouraging your legs to spread apart. The brush of his fingers over your aching core is sweet, overwhelming relief from the pain still coursing through your system. You’d think it’d be enough to make you cry, if you weren’t already.

“Good girl,” he says softly, and that small praise alone has you floating straight up to the ceiling.

His hands move quickly to pull your panties down and off, and you work to get your breathing back under control, letting your sobs dissolve into sniffling gulps. You whimper when his palms slip under your hips, encouraging you up onto your knees. Your body shivers all over as you try to hold yourself up, to be good, and then you feel Seokjin slip two fingers into your drenched center.

“Oh my god,” you groan as he starts to rub diligently at the ridges of your front wall, his free hand gripping your ass to spread you open. His touch in both places at once, pressing down on fresh swollen bruises and curling up into the sweetest part of you, it’s so good. It reminds you why you willingly give yourself over to this man, the one you love so much, the only one who can make you feel like this. You’re so turned on from the mix of pleasure and pain, you might be close to blacking out.

The bed creaks as he shifts a little, and then he replaces his fingers with his mouth, and you keen. You bury your sounds in the crook of your elbow as his tongue plunges into you, and he snakes a hand between your legs to rub slow circles over your clit. Your mind is reeling; you can barely manage to speak.

“S-Seokjin,” you gasp. “You’re g-gonna, ngh, gonna make me—”

He pulls off just enough to mutter, “You better fucking ask first.”

You swear he ups the intensity on purpose when his mouth returns to your pussy, as if to drag you that much closer to the edge. His thumb is working so perfectly at your clit, you can feel your thighs starting to shake as you writhe back against him. “Can I— can I please come, Seokjin? Pleaseplease, please?”

“No.”

His voice is firm, unbothered, and paired with the painful loss of his touch all at once. A strangled sob of frustration escapes you as you collapse against the bed, exhausted from holding yourself up and from your denied release.

“Not yet,” Seokjin continues. “Not until you’ve learned to be a little more obedient.”

His strong hand closes over your bicep, and he easily flips you over onto your back, causing you to hiss at the graze of your sore flesh against the sheets. Your lower lip trembles, your eyes threatening tears as you stare up at him, but you stay quiet.

“Be a good girl,” Seokjin says, dragging one finger up the column of your throat. You willingly tip your head back for him as a shiver rolls through you. “Let me fuck this smart mouth, then I’ll make you come as many times as you can handle. Okay?”

When you nod softly, he hauls you up to your feet. “Get on your knees.”

You do as he says, sitting back on your heels and watching as he works his pants and boxers down to free his cock. He’s thick and long, flushed dark and dripping hard. Big enough that you go slightly cross-eyed trying to take him in. Your cunt clenches desperately at his size, at how badly you need all of him inside you, bottoming out into you again and again.

But even moreso, you want to be good.

“Mouth open,” Seokjin instructs, and you comply, letting your tongue loll out for him as he tangles a hand in your hair.

He guides himself between your lips, and your eyes roll back at the weight of him on your tongue, the feeling of your jaw stretching open to fit him. He’s so fucking big, it’s uncomfortable, but you do your best to breathe around him and give into it.

Trying to hold still, hands placed sweetly on your thighs because you know he likes it that way, you blink up at Seokjin as he starts to thrust into your mouth. You can taste the salt of his precum as his length drags along your tongue, and you fight back the urge to gag when the tip of his cock nudges into the back wall of your throat. He groans softly as he rubs himself there, his grip on your hair tightening until the pain stings your scalp. Your eyes start to water as you try to keep yourself from choking.

“Fuck,” he hisses when he pulls out, saliva stringing in thick strands from your mouth to the head of his cock. He squeezes at the base of it, eyes glazed dark with lust, and you take in as much air as you can, the cool rush painful where your throat is sore from the stretch of him.

You sit up taller as if to ask for more.

Seokjin’s gaze meets yours as the hand on his cock guides it back toward you, but he doesn’t slip back into your mouth. His eyes are fixated hungrily on your face as he drags the head of his dick down over your bottom lip, teasing it around your mouth and along your cheeks, clearly enjoying that he can do whatever he wants with you.

Your pulse drums loudly in your ears as you sit there, mouth open, and take it. The whole lower half of your face must be slick with spit and precum now, given how easily he glides across your skin, and then you’re hit with the heavy thud of him smacking his cock once, twice, three times against your flat, willing tongue.

“Are you done being a brat now?” he prompts, and you can feel drool spilling down your chin as you nod, his cock still weighing heavy on your outstretched tongue. He slips it in a little further, just past the ring of your lips.

“Gonna be a good girl for me?”

A soft whine escapes around his girth filling your mouth. You nod again, desperate, and then he hits the back of your throat with enough force to make you gag noisily. Your body shudders beneath him, and you try to keep it together.

“Learned your fucking lesson?”

Tears start to sting at the corners of your eyes as he keeps sliding himself into your mouth, the head of his cock dipping down into the tight clutch of your throat, as far as he can go until your nose is flush with his abdomen. You can’t make another sound, your mouth crammed too full, but you do your best to nod even as you lose the ability to keep breathing.

Seokjin’s thumb brushes over the bulge in your throat, and you know what he wants. Tears slip down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut and swallow around him, and he rewards you with an unabashed moan that lights up everything inside you.

“That’s it. You look so good when you cry on my cock,” he rasps, his hand closing over your throat as you swallow again.

You can feel yourself starting to get light headed from lack of oxygen as more tears stream down your face, but the praise spurs you on. You want it too much, it makes you eager to please at any cost, despite the dizzying surge of adrenaline, despite the way your throat is spasming painfully now. You’ll pass out with his cock down your throat, if that’s what it takes.

He pulls out all at once, and the rush of air you heave in is like broken glass against your raw throat. You fall forward, your palms just barely catching you from landing directly onto your face, and you can’t do anything for a moment but breathe in ragged, shaky gasps. Tears are still welling up in your eyes, dripping down onto the carpet beneath you.

Your world tilts as Seokjin easily scoops you up in his arms just to drop you onto the bed, flat on your back. There’s still the dull ache of the bruises he beat into your ass, but it’s like someone’s turned the volume down on it. All your physical sensations seem distant, like they’re happening to someone else, even the dull ache thudding between your legs, a desperate desire to come that was only made worse by being used as your boyfriend’s fucktoy.

Your eyes flutter closed as his hands slip up your body to undo your lacy bralette and peel it off of you, and you don’t fight it.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Seokjin's voice pulls you back from the edge, and you fight to open your eyes again. He's hovering over you, fully stripped now, his brow creased slightly with concern. “Stay with me a little bit longer, okay?” His tone is still serious, and you sniff softly as you nod.

He slips a palm encouragingly under your thigh and you do the rest, so out of body that it’s like you weigh nothing at all as you pull your knees up to effectively bend yourself in half for him. He practically growls at the sight of you spread for him so willingly, presenting a cunt swollen with need, painted glossy with arousal.

You watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he kneels up on the bed, and then his thick cock is grinding over you, dragged right up your center. The feeling of finally being touched where you need it most has you exhaling a moan of relief.

“Is this what you want?” Seokjin's breath is hot on your neck and chased by the scrape of his teeth, earning another noise of pleasure from you. Your clit throbs as he rolls the head of his dick over it, up and down, slow teasing.

“Yes,” you manage to gasp. Your voice comes out a little broken from your scraped-up throat. “Yes, please. Please fuck me, please, want it so bad.”

“Which do you want more?”

You’re so gone, choking on whimpers and whines, that his hand closes over your throat to make you focus on the rest of his question. The look on his face is so dark, it sends a shiver down your spine.

“My dick, or my forgiveness?”

Tears spring to your eyes immediately as an overwhelming wave of emotions floods through you. There isn’t a doubt in your mind what your answer is, you don’t even have to pause to consider it. As badly as you want, need him to fuck you, the thought of Seokjin discarding you when he’s finished, still upset, not kissing every inch of your skin, not praising you for being so good… you can’t bear it.

“Your forgiveness,” you sob, doing your best to keep breathing despite his hand around your throat. “Please, please, please forgive me. I'm so sorry. I just wanna be good, wanna be good for you, I don't need anything else.”

You can see his face soften even through the tears that blur your vision. “There she is,” he murmurs, and then he tips his head down to brush his lips over yours. The warm touch of his mouth is all the reward you could ever ask for, and he sucks sweetly on your bottom lip before pulling back.

“Good answer, babygirl.”

Before you can even process what’s happening, he’s fucking the whole of his thick cock into you, and you can only keen as he stretches you wide enough to fit all of him. Your walls are immediately trembling tight to him from how edged close you’ve been all night.

“Thank you,” you moan, your head dropping back against the pillow. A gasp rips through you as he bottoms out, your spine arching when the crown of his cock presses firmly on your cervix. “Thank you, oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin purrs, his mouth against your collarbone. You think he might be sucking a mark into your skin, but it’s already getting hard to tell what’s happening. “You always take it so well after I beat the brat out of you. Let go now, baby. You’ve earned it.”

You’re grateful for the permission, because you’re not sure you could stay tethered any longer if you tried. Not when he’s splitting you open, thrusting hard and deep because he knows you can take it, with a cock fat enough to light up every sweet spot in you at once. Your eyes roll back as you start to float, so out of it that you barely even notice a faint buzzing sound until you realize Seokjin is pressing your vibrator down against your swollen, aching clit.

Fuck, when did he even grab it off the nightstand?

You’re vaguely aware of someone moaning, but it doesn’t even feel like you. You’ve given up entirely to it now, a sweet surrender to this all-encompassing pleasure. It’s so good, too good, it slips you out of your mind and body alike, like he’s fucking your brain right out of your skull.

“That’s it, come on my cock,” Seokjin groans, and fuck, you are, you’re coming hard enough to drench his cock with every pulse of your needy cunt. “Such a good girl.”

He doesn't even pull the toy off to give you a moment of recovery, just keeps it nestled between your folds as he pounds into you. Your hips shudder violently as you coast out of your first climax and straight into another one.

It all starts to blur together now, wave after wave of orgasm washing over you until you’re drowning in it. You come and come and come until it feels like you’re melting into the bed, pinned through by this massive cock and the endless mind-numbing buzz on your clit. You can distantly tell that you’ve soaked a wet spot into the sheets beneath you, that your thighs and even the muscles of your ass are shaking from overstimulation.

“S-S-Seokjin.” It takes you three tries to get his name out, and you’re still not really sure if you said it until the toy switches off. The humming sensation is still reverberating through your body even in the absence of it, enough to make you tremble all over as he picks up the pace.

“Gonna fucking— fill you up,” Seokjin grunts, voice thick with effort, and then his cock twitches at the very back of you, buried deep as it can go, pulsing heavy as he paints you with rope after rope of his release. 

You’re still not here, not really, not when he pulls out with a heavy sigh, when the cum starts to drool down your legs, when he drops onto the mattress beside you and pulls you into him. It comes back to you in pieces: you’re shivering all over, breathing hard, your face is wet— fuck, when were you crying?

It takes you several moments to realize Seokjin is murmuring in your ear, that his fingers are carding through your hair, his breath ghosting over your skin. “Just breathe, baby. Did so well, it’s over now. You’re safe.”

As the post-scene comedown settles into your bones, you bury your face into his shoulder, trying to breathe through the myriad of emotions and chemicals flooding your system. He pulls the blanket up over your chest, and the warmth of it and his body help to gently bring you down from the high.

You don’t know how long you lay like that until you finally manage to squeak out a question. “Y-you’re not really mad, right?”

Seokjin laughs gently as he presses a kiss to your hairline. “No, baby. I know you didn’t really forget. The birthday cake in the fridge kinda gave it away.”

The words take a second to hit you, and then a dazed giggle bubbles up in your chest. It’s like you’re floating as you start to laugh, your face still pressed into Seokjin’s skin, and you can feel the rumble of him laughing too. It didn’t even occur to you that he would’ve seen the fucking cake when he grabbed himself a bottle of wine.

“Oh,” is all you can think to say, and you keep giggling as his lips move over the line of your jaw, trailing kisses.

“You’re cute when you’re trying to get punished,” he says softly. “It's part of why I love you. You’re my perfect little brat. And this was the perfect gift, seriously.”

A warm glow blooms in your chest at the praise, and you sigh happily as you curl up against his side. “Can we eat cake in bed?”

Seokjin leans down to brush his mouth over yours, sweetly adoring. “Anything you want.”

[hotluncheddie]

how is your autistic Steve? missing him on this Sunday

hello!!! me too omg!!!! he is the best boy!!!

I've been having a couple thoughts about him here and there and I found a old snipped I wrote ages ago in my notes <3

:) ty for reminding me of him tho, my actual true love autistic Steve :)

-

Eddie notices Steve doing it one night, while a films on, sitting in the dark. 

He's rubbing his hands over his mouth, over his lips and cheeks. Over and over again, his fingers or palm rubbing left right, left right, over his lips.

He sees it again one morning. Steve laying on his belly, rubbing his face into the pillow, smushing his nose and turning his whole head left to right and back again. Always slow to wake up, sleepy long after the alarm. He rubs, then huffs. Sighs and relaxes. rubs again. 

Eddie can't hold it in any longer, he needs to touch him. So he rolls Steve over, into his arms. Steve hums, high and happy, twisting to be the little spoon. Tucking in close and grinding a little, the menace.

But they’re both too sleepy still, too relaxed. Steve breaths deep and snuggles into Eddie's arms. Then Eddie feels Steve's head move, so he peeks over to see Steve face. He has his eyes closed, rubbing his mouth and lips against the soft duvet. Pressing lightly on his upper lip, and below his nose. Body loose and Eddie tangles their legs together, buries his face in Steve’s neck, and breaths. 

-

Steve plays the same song over and over. It's new, from a band he loved then forgot about. But there’s this part in it, this new song, part of the bridge he thinks Eddie said. Steve likes it so much. Just that little part. He sings along to it, copying it. It sounds so nice. 

He plays the song over and over. Eddie helps him put it on a tape. That one song. The one song with that part on the bridge. Over and over on the same tape. It’s so good. Steve plays it on his Walkman if someone is over. Plays it over and over, until his mind starts to wander during it, he's heard it so many times. Until that best part seems stamped in his head - never to be forgotten.

It's so good, that little part, the whole song.

Steve plays it again.

-

Steve making packed lunches. ✨

It's so he can feel in control. So if everything went weird and wrong in his day, at least he knows that lunch will be normal. The same as every other day.

No worrying about if they have what he wants or if there will be enough protein to keep him feeling full. No stress that there won’t be anything around he wants to eat which would mean he doesn’t eat anything, the hunger manageable for a while until it’s encroaching on him slowly and he’s snapping at Robin but forgetting the cause. His tension rising and his jaw clenching, and before he knows it it’s the end of the day and his head is pounding and all he can do is go home and sleep off his tension headache. Evening gone for anything fun, ruined by pain. Steve hates that.

So Steve makes packed lunches, makes a couple at a time, sometimes enough for the whole week in one go.

Sometimes he has a craving for diner food, and that's okay, him and Robin sharing an order of fries and Steve getting his burger with extra lettuce and pickles on the side. And that's okay, some days, if it feels right. He has his lunch for dinner and enjoys.

But still, he makes packed lunches.

Just so he knows.

No matter what happens. Lunch is the same as every other day. <3

-

going to once again tag people who might like to see - this is very short but i just, i want as many people as possible to think about autistic Steve, he is so very special

@pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @spectrum-spectre @just-a-tiny-void @steventhusiast

@tangerinesteve @lil-gremlin-things @irethsune @scoops-aboy86 @marvel-ous-m

( sorry if this is annoying )

[hibiscusol]

JJ MAYBANK BOYFRIEND HEADCANNONS !!

navigation ! masterlist

warnings: one suggestive line? none really

author's note: all my exams are almost overrr :> i'll be fully free on sunday though, can't wait to get to writing more !

he loves driving around in the twinkie with you and the pogues, but he feels better when it’s just the two of you on the drive, driving around the island, playing your favorite songs.

he doesn’t like talking to anyone about his dad, not even john b, but when he sees your puppy eyes and the way your fingers caress the nape of his neck, all his walls break.

he tells you about the past, the good memories and the bad ones, and he knows you’ll listen. because you’re his girl.

he buys you flowers whenever he can afford it (which is rarely), and he forgets your favorite ones and get you a different one every time.

he shows up at your house in the middle of the night randomly, saying he needs a hug or he’s horny. either way, he doesn’t leave until he’s happy again.

he definitely has a wall on his room dedicated to you. it’s like a shrine, with pictures of you or little letters you’ve written him, and it’s in a way where he can see it whenever he’s laying on the bed on his side.

he does not let any girl other than you or kiara get near him. if any girl comes up to him and asks him anything, he’s going to hit them with the “hi, i have a girlfriend” before answering.

he’s the only person who can jokingly make fun of you. he always tells you you look like shit in the mornings before drowning you in kisses. or tells you that an ugly character on the screen looks like you when you’re watching something. but if anyone else does it, they’re in trouuuble.

he’ll listen to anything you listen to cause he simply does not have a music taste to begin with. he doesn’t even have spotify or soundcloud, and just tells you to get on aux whenever you and the pogues are hanging out. whether it’s taylor swift and gracie abrams to future and travis scott, he’ll listen to it and jam out to every song.

whenever you two argue, there is no way he would agree he’s wrong right away. he’ll storm away and not hang around for a few days, then come back with flowers begging you to forgive him. you just have to give him time.

he’s a very impulsive person, so you quite literally never have have any idea what he’s gonna do the next minute. he might grab you and throw you into the water when you’re on hms pogue like he’s done before, so you’ve learnt to always expect the unexpected with him.

you’re literally his partner in crime, trespassing old houses and stealing little things together. you both also have the talent of making lies on the spot and also making them match, so that’s a win.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 4 - They Call Me Kid

AN : So second person won the poll so I guess I will continue in this POV…I love seeing comments so keep at it. And don’t forget that I have a tag list, so just ask if you can be put on it! Enjoy! 

The blare of the alarm from your phone was not fun to wake up to. Arthur had told you many times to change it, but you never listened. If there was a nice tune that was supposed to wake you up, you never would. A sleepy groan escaped your lips as you stretched. You wanted to rub your eyes, but you knew better. Taking a shower was the first thing on your agenda. 

The shower was definitely smaller than the one you had back home, but it would have to do. The water pressure wasn’t great either. You just hoped that the water wouldn’t leave your hair feeling greasy all day. At least you could use the hair dryer. It didn’t take long for the water to warm up. Your muscles instantly relaxed under the stream of heat. 

You definitely fit into the category of “girls who love molten lava water temperature.” Cold showers, or just any cold water, were not your thing. Your trainer often had to force you to get into the ice bath. 

The water helped the sleepiness go away, but a red bull would really get the job done. Knowing the time crunch, you quickly washed and conditioned your hair, along with shaving and exfoliating. You needed to make a good impression on the first day. 

Drying your hair barely took anytime. Since you knew that the simulator would be a big part of today, you forwent the contacts and decided to use your glasses. 

The real driving started on Sunday. Which, you couldn’t help but be excited for. However, you knew how to use a sim, but not the physical car. 

The basics would only help you out so much. 

You shook your head, trying to get out of the oncoming detrimental mindset. You needed music. And there was only one song that you knew would help. 

“Hey Siri, play Life is a Highway by Rascal Flats.” 

The female AI voice responded, “Now playing, Life is a Highway by Rascal Flatts.” 

The familiar sound of the drums and eclectic guitar filled the small bathroom. Your head started to bob as you began your skin care routine. Your makeup didn’t take long since you had decided to go with your glasses. 

“I’LL BE THERE WHEN THE LIGHT COMES IN – JUST TELL ‘EM WE’RE SURVIVORS!” 

Your hands pretended to play an air guitar as you jumped on your bed. You flung your hair left and right at you went into the chorus. 

“LIFE IS A HIGHWAY, WELL I WANNA RIDE IT ALL NIGHT LONG!” 

You, however, were stopped once there was a knock on the door. You quickly turned the music off before clamoring down from the bed. You almost tripped on a loose shoe as you quickly opened the door. 

Standing there was Vito. He took in your appearance before smirking. He pushed passed you and walked further into the room. 

“Well ok then,” you muttered, “just let yourself in I guess.” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to tame the fly aways from your one person concert. 

“Heard you singing down the hallway.” Your mouth gaped. 

“No you did not.” Your shoulders brushed as you walked back into the bathroom. You heard him chuckle as he sat down on your stomped on bed. You quickly finished up. Grabbing your bag, you let Vito know that you were ready. He stood up and walked to the door, with you following behind him. 

You said a quick good morning to the desk workers before walking out the sliding doors. Outside, a nice SUV with tinted was waiting. 

“Front seat or back seat?” you asked. 

“Back.” 

Your hand reached for the back handle and popped the door open. The driver turned around a bit and gave you a smile as you slid on the nice leather. You greeted him before he turned around. The car started to move a bit as you put your seatbelt on. 

“What is on the agenda for today?” you ask Vito as he pulls out a fancy tablet. It looked very similar to the one that Christian had yesterday afternoon. 

“So you have a simulator run, then a suit fitting, and then you need to quickly decide on a helmet design. You could use your current one, but it’s Vegas,” Vito replies. 

“Viva Las Vegas,” you murmured the tune. “When do I need to send in a helmet design?” 

“Probably by the end of the day. They mentioned they needed it soon.” 

“Gotcha.” You quickly took out your phone to start looking over saved designs that you had. Scrolling through your ideas, a couple stood out to you. You reached over to show Vito a few pictures. “Do you think it’s too early for this one?” A bright red and yellow helmet was on display. 

Vito only laughed. “Quite possibly.” He took your phone and scrolled through the rest of the designs. “Your current helmet is white and silver. Do you want to continue or do you want to go with a darker shade?” 

You let out a hmmm. “Let’s keep it white,” you pulled your lip in between your teeth, “and can we add the sparkles?” You were basically a child when it came to glitter. 

“Sure kid.” Vito seemed to screenshot the design and send it to an unknown number. You were satisfied with what you picked. You just couldn’t wait to use the rest of them. You had one picked out for your first actual race, one for COTA, one for Halloween, one for…you got pulled out of your thoughts when the car stopped. 

The building, once again, was very impressive. You could get used to the view. At this point, you never wanted anything to be different. You heard the unbuckling of Vito’s seatbelt and followed suit. You both used the back entrance once again to get into the building. You guessed that RB was very particular about what news they wanted to get out and what news they wanted to keep secret. 

Passing the posters, you felt better about the future. You would be up there, if it was the last thing you did. This time, you followed Vito down a different hallway than the first time. Through a door at the end of the hallway, the two of you entered a giant room with multiple sims. Your heart started to race. You couldn’t decipher if it was from anxiety or excitement. 

Vito continued to walk forward with you hot on his heals. You didn’t want to get too far from him, but your eyes caught the new DMG-1. Even Dams didn’t have this grand of machinery. You had strayed just enough from Vito to be “alone,” but you were still close. Your eyes raced over the sim. Excitement started to buzz in your veins. Your hands itched to touch the wheel. It was all impressive. You didn’t expect anything less from the all-time dominant team. 

“You like it?” A voice interrupted your thoughts. 

You turned your head and your eyes met a pair of brown ones. A woman, taller than you, in an official RB polo stood with one of those tablets. 

You could only nod your head, eyes glistening like a kid in a candy store. This is basically your candy.  

“It-it’s amazing,” you stuttered, suddenly feeling shy. 

The woman let out a small laugh before putting a hand out between the two of you. You grasped the hand firmly as she shook yours. 

“Michelle Williams, your Race Engineer. I’m here to see how you do on the sim.” She gave you a nice smile. 

“Nice to meet you Miss Williams,” you shyly said. This time, her laugh was a little louder as she waved her hands. 

“None of that, people often call me Mitch, and I want you to do as well. You have anything you want me to call you by?” 

Your head cocked. With eyes shifting quickly to Vito, you answered, “They call me kid. I don’t know why, but Vito started calling me that during F2 and it kinda just stuck.” Your shoulders shrugged. You knew exactly why he called you that. You had just turned 17 days before your first F2 debut. You were a kid. Thus, the nickname still stuck. 

She nodded. “Alright kid. You want to show me what you can do?” 

Your eyes widened. “Right now?” 

“Yep. Don’t worry about the others. They’re here for other things. It’s just going to be me and you. A test run for the real thing if you will.” Her smile was comforting. 

You took a deep breath and took a step towards the simulator. You carefully climbed into the machine with the help of Mitch. Once you had gotten situated, you pulled the straps down and buckled in. Mitch handed you a headset and explained that she would have one as well on the outside to get you used to her talking. 

She started up the sim from the outside. You were now in your element. 

From your headset, Mitch talked, “Ok kid. We’re going to do a couple of laps in Vegas to get you used to the layout. How does that sound?” 

You replied, “Sounds good Mitch. Just so you know, I have a borderline photographic memory, so I think I can have it memorized by the first lap” There was a reason for your dominance on the F2 tracks. Tiny details that people might forget after a lap were always noticed by you. Because of your communication with the team, you were able to overcome things that sent drivers into the barriers. 

“Sounds good. Ok, starting the first lap, stand by.” 

You inhaled and exhaled before pressing on the pedals. It was definitely harder than an F2 car, but you could manage. Taking things slowly, you took your time to get the layout of the track and how it felt. You were able to communicate a few things with Mitch as you leisurely drove around. After about 7-10 laps of just driver, Mitch told you to line the car up with the animated P1 spot. 

What you didn’t know, was that the rest of the crew, including Christian had gathered around to see how you did. Vito stood with bated breath. He knew you could do it. 

From you headset came, “This is ‘for real’ now kid. Let’s set an official lap time for the simulator.” 

“Yes ma’am.” You wanted to mock salute, but you needed to focus. You shifted down in your seat to make yourself smaller. 

Once the animated lights changed green, your pretend tires spun as the car accelerated at an amazing speed. You weren’t expecting it but you accepted it with open arms. This is what you were meant to do. 

You eyes stayed laser focused on the track as you went around the first corner. This track definitely had a lot of straights, and you knew that the track was going to be colder than normal. You commanded the car with excellence. You hadn’t even realized that you had already gone around the track. 

Christian leaned over to Vito, “Where’d you find this kid?” 

Vito could only smile and shrug his shoulders. 

You were pulled out of your mindset when Mitch spoke in the headset, “And that is an excellent time of 1 minute and 32 point 799 seconds. Well done kid.” You could practically hear her smile, which made you smile in return. 

“Do I need to go another time?” you asked as you taxied the “car” around the circuit. 

“That’s all for today. I think you need to go with your manager for the suit fitting.” 

“Thanks Mitch.” 

“No problem kid.” 

You parked the pretend car and looked up at the time and smiled. A click caught your attention as a photographer had his camera to his face. He sheepishly smiled as he brought the camera down. 

“Could you send me that?” you asked him as you unbuckled the seatbelts. He nodded and walked away. As you climbed down out of the sim, you finally noticed the crowd. You averted your eyes as you walked over to Vito and Christian. 

“Nice to see you again Mr. Horner,” you said as Vito passed you a water bottle, which you chugged gratefully. 

“Mega job there kid,” he paused, “I can call you that right?” You never would have thought that the great Christian Horner would be hesitant about things like that. 

You let out a little laugh, “Yes sir. Seems like it sticks with me wherever I end up.” You poked Vito in the side. The three of you talked for a bit. Things about the upcoming schedule were discussed before you had a question. 

“Am I meeting Max and Checo at Vegas, or will I meet them before?” 

Christian brought his hand to his chin. “I think we’re going to fly you down on Tuesday and we can all go out to eat.”

“Does, um, Max know yet?” You really didn’t want him to meet you for the first time and just then find out that you were going to be his teammate. Your worries must have shown on your face as Christian put his hand on your shoulder. 

“He already knows. He knows what it’s like, being young and all.” 

“And he doesn’t care that I’m…” you trailed off, leaving the words unspoken. 

Christian gave you a sympathetic look. “Kid, he’s eager to meet you. The guy likes a challenge and I think he’s ready for a new dynamic.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“Ok, thank you.” 

“No problem kid. I think though that you are needed in room 3A for a suit fitting.” He pointed in the direction of the room. 

You thanked him and walked over to the door, with a new found confidence you didn’t know you had. 

Opening the door, you were met with another man and a woman. 

“Hey kid. You ready for your fitting?” the woman asked. 

“I was born ready.” 

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @alwaysboredsworld

[i99zhuo]

Could u make a routine inspired by kazuha ?

How to live like kazuha ⋆𐙚.ೃ⊹🩰°｡𓏲⋆𖦹 🦢₊˚ kazuhaism routine

This is a guide on daily routines inspired by le sserafim’s Kazuha! thanks for the request, hope you enjoy it!!

content list (routines):

morning

study

workout

shower + self care

night

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗  ˖࣪ ໒꒱  ˚₊·

✸ ꒰ morning routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🎀 Kazuha starts her days by getting straight out of bed! You can take a few minutes just to think about your dreams or to meditate but after you're done get up without thinking so you avoid lazyness. After, head to the bathroom to do your hygiene routine (washing your teeth, face, body, etc.)

After you do your skincare, it's time for makeup, if i had to describe Zuha’s makeup in a few words i would use ‘natural’ ‘light’ and ‘clean’, even tho she uses as many products as other idols I've already talked about (brow pencil, eyeshadow, base makeup, contour, lashes, eyeliner, blush and lip tint), her makeup still pretty much simple, like just to enhance her natural features.

🧸Time to get dressed, Kazuha usually wears tops or basic t-shirts with baggy sweatpants, the colors she wears the most are white, black and gray. stylize the outfit with a beret or sunglasses!

Finally for breakfast, a good option is to have a sandwich with coffee, however any recipe that includes a lot of veggies in it will be ideal! 

✸ ꒰ study routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🩰 One of Zuha's favorite things is trying new things and showing progress! So always make sure to experiment with different study styles, techniques and resources. also, remember that progress is not about going from an F to an A, but about improving slowly and enjoying the path to your goals.

To learn and practice her Korean, Kazuha reviews vocabulary daily, using it on small phrases to memorize their meaning. As a visual learner, she also associates words with drawings and writes in her notebook often.

🥥 And to improve her English she usually practices talking with Yunjin. You can ask a friend to tutor you in any signature you feel you are lacking and make learning fun!

✸ ꒰ workout routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🪷 Kazuha’s most famous charm is her healthy and beautiful body, as well as her flexibility. She workouts everyday in her dorm room, and has a lot of different workout routines, so I decided to make a schedule so you can try them all!

monday -> le sserafim workout (no jumps / low impact), Kazuha new abs workout and full body stretch.

tuesday -> le sserafim workout (short version), Kazuha upper body workout, stretch

wednesday -> le sserafim workout, Kazuha abs workout, stretch

thursday -> le sserafim workout, upper body workout, stretch

friday -> le sserafim workout, kazuha lower abs workout, stretch

saturday -> le sserafim (short), upper body, stretch

sunday -> le sserafim workout (no jumps / low impact), stretch 

🌷 Also, you can try and enroll in a ballet class, it's never too late to try!

✸ ꒰ shower + self care routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

Before taking your shower, take off your makeup with micellar water or an oil based cleanser. Then bath like you would normally do, but start your shower with lukewarm water and finish with a cold rinse!

🦢 Then use a soft foam cleanser to wash your face, let it air dry, and then use a gentle toner, calming ampoule and cream to set the moisture.

Now for self care, Zuha enjoys spending time doing diamond paintings or other kinds of diys, like decorating phone cases. She also videocalls her friends often in her free time, spending time with friends really helps with our mental health! You can also try and make little handmade gifts for your besties.

✸ ꒰ night routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🐩 Dinner time! eat a yogurt bowl with nuts and honey (or any toppings you like) and eat it while watching youtube videos.

After eating she takes her journal and writes about her day and her emotions, she tries to be as concise as possible so no matter if she’s tired or doesn't have time she's still able to reflect on her day!

👛 Then she does her last review on the things she's studying, doing this before going to sleep helps you remember it better.

If she's with the members she will obviously watch a scary movie and have fun with her friends before going to bed!

💋 Finally stretch a little in your bed to be more flexible, have a better posture and to help you to fall asleep faster!

Good night!

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗  ˖࣪ ໒꒱  ˚₊·

Heyyy tysm for reading hope you liked it even if it was a little rushed!

I closed my request cus I kept getting them and I really want to focus on the ones that I already have hehe but don't worry I will re-open them once im done!

Also while making this I noticed it was really similar to the how to live like Yunjin I was making sooo idk if I should finish it or not, what do u guys think?

anyways I think that's all

toodlezzzzz!11!!1

[nova-is-a-writer-now]

Hidden embers

Chapter 2

Chapter summary: Tensions rise during a church fundraiser, unexpected closeness with Joel begins to blur the lines between what’s right and wrong.

A/N: It took me so long to post this, school has been killing me lately, my sincerest apologies. This is a fun little chapter, wrote it a while back. I’m currently writing chapter 4 and I can’t wait for you guys to read that one. I hope you enjoy this 🤍

Warnings: No outbreak AU, Age gap, DBF!Joel, some accidental physical contact lol

Series masterlist

Two days after the barbeque, you’re woken up by the gentle touch of your dad stroking your hair.

“Hey, sweetheart.” he says almost in a whisper

You squint at the clock on your nightstand, its red numbers flashing in the dim morning light. The faint glow through your curtains barely illuminates your dad’s face. “Dad? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong, kiddo. Just wanted to let you know I’m off to that church fundraiser we told you about. They need me and Joel to help with setting up lights and whatnot. Didn’t know if you’d wanna come”

You groan, rolling onto your back and closing your eyes. “Dad, it's 6:30 a.m on a Sunday. The only thing I wanna do right now is burrow myself in this bed for at least three more hours.”

He chuckles softly, standing up from where he was crouching next to your bed. “Alright, you’ll have to help your mom with the baking then. She’s gonna be selling all those pastries today and I bet she could use a sous-chef”

Before he can make it any closer to the door, you sit up in your bed and rub your eyes “I’m up. Be down in 5”

You cradle a hot cup of coffee to your chest, the summer heat creeping in very slowly this early in the morning. Your first stop is Joel’s house and even the struggle to keep your eyes open doesn’t distract you from the nervous flutter in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again.

You've been doing mental gymnastics, trying your damn hardest to keep your mind off of him, convincing yourself this is just a silly fixation and will pass as soon as you get used to seeing him around. Just push through it, and eventually, your heart will get the memo.

Your dad pulls up to his driveway and parks right next to his truck. The front door is in your direct line of sight when Joel opens it, carrying a couple boxes and a toolbelt slung over his shoulder. You have to make a conscious effort to not stare at his arms, at how big they get whenever he carries heavy things around—that proves to be a lot harder when he’s walking in a straight line towards you.

Thankfully, your dad gets out of the car to help, sparing you from further gawking. You hear him ask if there are any boxes left inside and from the way he heads back towards the house, you guess the answer is yes.You roll your window down to ask if he needs any help just as those strong arms you were trying to ignore rest themselves on the window frame.

“You didn’t strike me as an early bird.” Joel says, his eyes now leveled with yours, much closer than you had been two days ago.

Your cheeks betray you, flushing a shade of red that now feels reserved for him. “Do I strike you as my mom’s baking assistant for the entire day?” you retort, a grin sneaking onto your face.

You’d be lying through your teeth if you said you weren’t trying to earn another one of those earth shattering chuckles with your comment. Turns out you’re pretty good at it, because a second later he’s dropping his head, a low rumbly chuckle escaping him. “I reckon you don’t.”

His eyes come back up to meet yours, holding for a beat longer than they probably should, like he’s giving you one more tiny bread crumb to follow the trail, to figure out the riddle. Or maybe you’re just losing your mind, which is entirely possible.

Just when the tension between you two is about to reach a breaking point, your dad reappears with more boxes.

“A little help, pal? It wouldn’t kill ya,” he calls out, breaking the spell.

As your dad parks the car in front of the church, you spot Mrs. Calloway, the lively old lady you spoke to at the barbecue, waving energetically. The early morning sun casts long shadows across the church’s lawn, the air carrying the faint smell of freshly-cut grass.

“Oh good, you’re here!” she greets the three of you as you step out of the car.

“Mornin’, Mrs. Calloway. How’s the day treatin’ you?” your dad asks, hauling open the truck's tailgate.

“Oh, busy, so much to do. I see you brought me an extra pair of hands here,” she says, sidling up to you and giving your arm a friendly squeeze.

“Yeah, he was very convincing, couldn’t refuse the invite,” you reply with a polite smile. You've taken a real liking to Mrs. Calloway. She never talks about your parents when she chats with you. Instead, she asks about your life or shares stories about her cats—which is a refreshing change of pace.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t, pumpkin. I have a bunch of decorations to put up inside.” She leans in closer and half-whispers, “And for all their virtues, I wouldn’t trust these ones with decorating if it was my last day on earth.”

You can’t help but giggle just as a voice comes from the back of the truck. “Heard that.”

You turn to see Joel balancing a couple boxes with practiced ease “Is she wrong?” you ask, a teasing smile on your lips.

He grins, shaking his head. “No, she’s very right.”

“Oh, Joel could help you out” Mrs. Calloway suggests. “There are some pretty big containers stuffed in the back of the storage room with everything you’ll need. Why don’t you go grab them while we start setting up the tables out here?”

“You got it,” you say, trying to wave away the thought of being alone with Joel again.

You walk into the church with Joel trailing just behind, his presence is a comforting warmth against the cool morning air. The quiet of the church envelops you both, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly. You spot a door in the back corner “That’s the one?”

“That’s the one.” Joel confirms, taking the lead as you reach the storage room.

Inside, you find a mountain of containers piled up against the wall, with big brown boxes and plastic bags teetering on top.

“So, how many of these do we need?” you ask, hoping to distract yourself from how close he is.

“Just a couple to start with,” Joel replies, handing you one of the containers. “We’ll come back if we need more.”

You both carry the containers out of the storage room, the clatter of plastic echoing through the empty church hall.

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Joel says, setting his container down and opening it. You follow suit, pulling out strings of lights, banners, and a variety of festive decorations.

“I didn’t think we’d be doing arts and crafts today,” you joke, unfurling a particularly colorful garland.

Joel smiles. “Yeah, not exactly my forte, but we’ll make it work.”

You pick a banner out of the container, large enough to hang from one column to the other, and spot metal hooks screwed all the way up—clearly where it’s meant to go.

You notice a small ladder pushed against a corner and leave Joel’s side to fetch it.

He only seems to notice what you’re up to once he hears the ladder scraping against the column

“Leave it, I'll take care of that.”

“Oh, don’t give me that. I’m not a lady in distress, I can hang up a banner on my own, Joel.” You reply stepping up on the ladder trying to test out its stability with a little bounce

“I know you can darlin’, but I’d rather do it myself. That ladder—”

“The ladder is fine, Joel. Go back to untangling those lights.” You’re not quite sure what you’re trying to prove – maybe this was an attempt at stripping away that childish image he had of you.

He disregards your comment and walks right to your side, his hands slightly stretched out like he's preparing to catch you.

“You’re being so dramatic,” you say climbing to the highest point of the ladder.

Sure, it’s old but if it held up this long it could hold for a little bit longer. “See? I’m just fine, I just gotta hook this up here…”

As if on cue, the ladder starts creaking ominously just as you stretch your arm out to reach the hook. Not half a second later, the rusty metal piece that was holding all your weight up snaps and Joel’s arms wrap around your body, pulling you safely against his chest.

For the second time that day, you could say that was the closest to Joel you’ve ever been. His face just inches away from yours, both arms holding you securely, the woody, musky scent your brain had labeled as uniquely his, overwhelming your senses.

Words failed you as you stared into those deep brown eyes, and every part of you wanted to believe it was just the shock of the fall, but it was getting harder and harder to keep shamelessly lying to yourself.

When he finally breaks the silence, it’s pretty much a lost battle. “Will you stop being so stubborn and let me help you now?”

“Favorite color”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Joel chuckles once again, and at this point, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve pulled that off. With Joel Miller, even a small chuckle feels like a major accomplishment.

After spending the entire morning decorating the inside of the church (most of which you spent explaining to him he couldn’t mix the red decorations with the green ones because it wasn’t christmas), you were both assigned raffle duty. You sold the tickets and Joel put them in the big raffle draw, using the lever to mix them up as he went.

The two of you sat behind a little stand, and in your best attempt to hear as much as you could of that sweet, caramel-y drawl, you convinced him to play twenty-questions. Each of you took turns asking the other whatever popped into your heads, and the other had to answer honestly.

Your questions ranged from what animal he would choose to turn into if he could shapeshift at will, to his favorite subjects back in high school, and even who in your family he would take to a deserted island if he knew he’d have to partner up to make it out alive. (He picked you, obviously. Your dad was terrible at functioning in high pressure situations). His questions on the other hand had been generic at best, deadly boring at worst.

You leaned back in your chair, the wooden slats creaking under your weight, and gave him a playful glare.

“You said any question that popped into my head,” he defends himself, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Oh and you’re dying to know my favorite color, are you?” you ask back, dripping with sarcasm.

“I’ll lose sleep over it if you don’t tell me” his voice gets low and serious in complete contrast to how ridiculous his statement is.

“Blue,” you admit, “but not the default shade of blue everyone thinks of, more like a ‘clear water lake’ kind of blue” you look back at him and he just kind of stares, like he's too distracted by you to even register the answer to his question. “What’s your’s?” you ask, pulling him out of his trance.

“Brown.”

You laugh at his answer.

“Something funny?” he asks

“Only you, Joel Miller, would have brown as your favorite color.”

“It’s a perfectly normal favorite color.” He says defensively, a little frown creasing his features.

“Joel, it’s the most boring of colors, it’s not even a color in itself, it's all the colors mushed together.” you giggle at the absurdity of the conversation, leaning in closer, enjoying the banter more than you care to admit.

“It’s practical, goes well with everything, looks good in any house—an easy, simple color.”

“But your favorite color isn’t supposed to be about practicality, it’s supposed to be about which one you like the most.” You argue back.

“You tryna tell me how to pick my own favorite color, kid?” he teases you, receiving only a death stare in return.The warmth in his eyes makes your heart skip. “Fine, it’s green.”

“See? That's a normal favorite color”

“Yeah, and you’re a piece a’ work.” he mutters, shaking his head, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips that tells you he’s enjoying this as much as you are.

Just like that, Joel Miller makes the rest of the day easy to get through. Even with the awkward feeling of being an outsider, looking through a window into a room full of people who’ve known each other their whole lives, he manages to ground you. He’s either pulling you into senseless conversation or letting you bask in a comfortable silence, and both feel like a lifeline.

By the end of the day, you walk around helping Ms. Calloway clear out the tables, throw all the empty cups and disposable plates into a trash back and group up the chairs so your dad can take them back inside.

During one of your ‘picking up leftover trash’ rounds, you see your mom standing next to Joel’s truck. He’s right beside her loadingback up the tools he’d brought with him this morning. You knew Joel was a lot colder and closed off with other people—that's what earned him his grump reputation in the first place—but in the short time you’ve been around him since you came back, you’ve never seen him be so stiff around anyone like he is with your mom.

That is certainly a rare sight, given your mom was one to charm any and everyone who crossed her path. Pageant queen, cheerleader, hair larger than life type—your mom is a sight for sore eyes, even you have to admit that. It was hard to engage in conversation with her and not be dazzled by her looks and also by her bubbly personality, or the persona she put on for others at least. It almost seemed like she hadn’t been told no once in her entire life.

But Joel seemed immune to it, no warm smile on his face, no polite small talk, not even gentleman-like behavior beyond the strictly necessary. In fact, something in his face told you he couldn’t wait to get on his truck and leave. He stands with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, every line of his body screaming discomfort.

You watch the two of them from a distance, your mom batting her eyelashes up at him, her body leaning towards him slightly, trying to close the gap he’s so obviously desperate to maintain. Meanwhile, Joel looks like he’s doing everything in his power to keep his distance, stepping closer and closer to his truck’s tailgate. His jaw is set like stone, eyes flicking to the side as if searching for an escape route, and you can almost see the tension radiating off him in waves.

Your mom leans in closer, her voice dropping to what she probably thinks is a conspiratorial whisper. Even from a distance, you can see Joel’s eyes narrow, a flicker of something like annoyance passing over his face before he schools his expression back to neutral.

An unshakable uneasiness tugs at your chest that won't allow you to walk away, against your best instincts you decide to barge in.

“Hey, Mom!” you chirp, sliding right up next to Joel. “I think Mrs. Calloway is looking for you. Something about the pies?”

Your mom turns to you with a bright smile, though there’s a flicker of irritation in her eyes that’s hard to miss. “Oh, I’m sure she can manage without me for a moment,” she says, but you can tell she’s not thrilled about being interrupted.

Joel gives you a grateful look, his eyes meeting yours with a silent thanks. You catch a slight relaxation in his shoulders, like he’s the one being thrown a lifeline this time.

“Actually, Mom, she seemed really insistent,” you retort, trying to sell the urgency of the situation. “You know… with the wrapping things up and all.”

Your mom hesitates, her gaze flicking between you and Joel. Finally, she relents with a sigh, though the look she gives you says this conversation is far from over. “Alright, I’ll go see what she needs. But we’re not done talking about this, Joel,” she says, her voice carrying an edge that makes your skin crawl, before turning on her heel and striding away.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, Joel exhales a long breath. He extends you one more polite nod and jumps into the truck without another word. You don’t like the feeling it gives you, not one bit.

Before you can dwell too much in your thoughts, you hear your mom’s voice calling your name, and you turn to see her motioning for you to join her. Here comes the earful.

With a resigned sigh, you make your way over to her, bracing for the inevitable.

“Sweetheart,” she begins in a voice that’s both sugar and vinegar, “you really shouldn’t interrupt when adults are talking. It’s important to know your place.”

You nod, biting back the retort on the tip of your tongue. “I know, Mom. I just thought you might want to check on Mrs. Calloway.”

She narrows her eyes, as if trying to read your mind. “If you go around behaving like a heathen, it reflects poorly on me. You’d do well to remember that.”

You stare back at her, head high and an unfaltering cool facade. She used to intimidate you, this tone used to make you feel so small and insignificant, but it doesn’t anymore. Hasn’t for a good while now. “Got it,” you reply, forcing a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

[sweetcollywobbles]

my yandere!leon headcanons so far MDNI

hello! these are just a few headcanons i had about leon as a yandere and a person in general. there is nsfw below the cut, so MINORS AND AGELESS BIOS FUCK OFF ‼ also feel free to send me your thoughts on yandere!leon and your personal headcanons if you have any!!

xx

sfw

⟢ he's self-aware that what he's done to you is horrible. he knows you have every right to hate him, but that doesn't stop him from wishing you would love him back. he never meant to hurt or deceive you, but he's lost and given too much. leon wants someone to come home to, share a meal with, and feel needed and wanted. to receive a sliver of what he's given out. so forgive him if he's being selfish when it comes to you, but he deserves happiness too. so why not help him play house?

⟢ smells of bergamot and lavender. it’s nice and relaxing, but also musky and woodsy. he read somewhere that lavender calms the nerves, so he just absolutely lathers himself in the scent. Sometimes you swear he smells like sleep personified. unfortunately, he’s still a man, so he uses old spice lavender body wash. for cologne, he uses sauvage by dior. 

⟢ normalcy is hard. how can anyone go back into society as if the amount of  horrors you’ve seen, aren’t there? like you’re fine and everything is fine? so, leon has found a pretty good remedy, company. each friday, a sit down dinner with claire, chris, and jill. pizza, wings, and beer every sunday with chris watching whatever football game is on. sometimes they may not know the current standings of teams, but it’s fun to pretend that they do. yet friends can only fill the void so much, maybe with you, the world won’t feel so lonely. 

⟢ he has a major sweet tooth! likes his coffee with cream and sugar, won’t drink his coffee black unless he really needs it. leon will always have room for dessert lmao. has tried to bake, but he just doesn’t got it 💀something just always goes wrong. a big ice cream/frozen yogurt guy. once a month, leon will make a “everything under the kitchen sink” sundae. he’ll dump whatever pints of ice cream into a large bowl and top it off with whatever candy, syrup, and whip topping he has. leon is usually on a very strict diet, so why not splurge?

⟢ leon on his off time has taught himself how to smoke/grill meat. only knows how to make small side dishes to go with the meat that he’s made. mashed potatoes and grilled veggies are usually his two favorite go-to sides. 

⟢ i'm a firm believer that leon's receiving love languages are quality time and words of affirmation with a hint of acts of service. leon works a lot, whether at the office or away on another mission, this poor, tired man is always working. so when he's home be prepared to be attached at the hip. leon also has a lot of self-doubt and guilt about what he's done to you, so by telling him how much you love and appreciate him, it feeds his growing delusion that what he's done is necessary. you need him just as much as he needs you. it also adds to the reassurance when you do small things for him to show your love and appreciation, whether it’s real or not. like cleaning and folding his laundry, making him a cup of coffee in the morning, back rubs after a long day, or even packing his lunch for the day. 

i’m giggling at the thought of leon keeping all the small notes you add to his lunch, reading them when the day gets tough. or maybe he has one or two in a go-bag when he has to take small out-of-state trips for work. 

⟢ building off the one before, he won't admit it but he's clingy. he prefers showers, but will choose a bath if it means he gets a small intimate moment with you in the morning. not in a sexual sense, more in a “let’s bask in each other’s presence”. never sits across from you at a table or booth, always next to you. same thing for the couch. there could be a thousand pillows on the bed, but he always chooses yours. leon will also never lets you sleep facing any windows/doors for security reasons. there is no such thing as personal space with this man.

⟢ since leon is a yandere his reciprocating love language is all of them. he wants you to stay with him, so he is willing to drown you in his love until it's the only thing you'll ever know. i'm going to break this down a little in sections.  

⟡ leon isn't the best when it comes to choosing the words that relay how he feels. the words feel wrong and it leaves him awkward. so any sort of verbal praise from him is rare. the most you would get from him is a thumbs up and a "sure" or a pat on the back with a nod.

(😀👍🏻 <— leon fr) but, put a piece of paper infront of this man and all of a sudden he's writing words that’ll make shakespear blush. it's words so sickly sweet it gives you a toothache. leon really hates himself for not being able to verbal relay this to you, but maybe you can feel what he wants to say?

⟡ leon is just really good at showing you how he feels than telling you. I KNOW THIS MAN WOULD GIVE THE BEST HUGS BECAUSE HE SO DESPERATELY NEEDS ONE. just imagining leon giving you a bear hug, fully enveloping you, and he can't help but hold you a little closer. maybe even holds your head a little more to him. his eyes are closed, soaking up the loving moment, he might even do a little sigh of relief. because with you, he's safe. with you, he's loved. and he just wants you to feel the love he has for you through every action. to feel what he can't say. (SORRY I GOT OFF TRACK!!) leon also always has to be touching you in some way. his favorite places for kisses; nose, cheek, neck, or hand. every morning, when he's holding you close, he'll leave small repeated kisses on your neck until you wake up giggling. not really into lip kisses, but will sometimes start a lazy make out session. just loves holding you whenever he can and making sure you feel loved at all times.

⟡ leon will also do the most for you. having a hard time sleeping? he's awake with you, lightly scratching your back in small circles or holding you close while he's running his fingers through your hair. leon just can't sleep knowing that you're having a hard time sleeping. hungry but don't want to cook? he's in the kitchen cheffing it up. putting love in every plate that he makes you, even if it isn't restaurant quality. i feel like leon will also leave you small notes around the house in places that you would find, but it's little drawings instead of words. in the slow cooker, a picture of a flower. in between the dryer sheets, a bad stick figure drawing of what you think is of you and him. at some random page of the book you're reading, a simple heart. 

⟡ leon loves spending time with you. it doesn't matter what it is, even if you're doing nothing. he wants to do nothing with you. his favorite thing to do with you is listen to you. whether you’re rambling about the latest tv drama he knows nothing about or it’s late at night and you’re reading whatever book you’ve picked up. he loves being in the kitchen when you’re cooking/baking. he’s your dedicated sous chef, so feel free to boss him around like your gordon ramsay. although, i’m so sorry for the amount of “my name is sue” jokes he’ll make. loves watching movies, putting together legos/ doing diy crafts, and playing mario kart. 

I NOTICED THIS WAS GETTING LONG AND IDK IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL BUT IM HOPING I DID. THIS WAS SOOOO SELF INDULGENT.

⟢ when it comes to pet names, leon will add a “my” to the start of it. he’s possessive and it shows in his actions. will often say: my girl, my sweetheart, my baby, my angel, etc.

nsfw (i’m not good at smut sorry)

⟢ the praise problem does not equate to what happens in the bedroom. i'm sorry, i just simply refuse. a complete 180, he's a talker. whether it's saying something so outlandishly lewd like he wants the whole world to hear or sickly sweet nothings in your ear, this dude will NOT stfu. (and it makes me giggle and kick my feet) I WILL PUT MY LIFE ON THE LINE AND SAY THAT THIS MAN IS ABSOLUTELY FERAL IN BED. he's always stressed. from his job, from the lack of self care, from the past that just never seems to leave him. he's on edge. he has healthy ways of releasing it, but sometimes the gym or extra training isn't enough. 

⟢ which can lead to leon being a little mean in bed. he’s absolutely degrading the life out of you while also giving you whiplash with the praise that he gives you as well. leon is a lot more aggressive and at some point you’re just a fleshlight to him. spanking, choking, biting, spitting, you name it, it is on the table. also licking whatever drool comes out of his mouth makes him lose his mind fr.

⟢ i'm not good at writing smut, but i do have an idea of what i think leon's favorite sex positions would be. the first one would be mating press. it's extremely intimate and it allows him to be close to your face and neck than the regular missonary position. again, he really gets off knowing that he's the one getting you off. another postition would be cowgirl, it gives him full view of your chest and face, except you're not really riding him. again, he just using you as a fleshlight like giving you the perception that you’re in control. another would be you on your belly and him basically putting you in a headlock. IDK WHAT IT’S CALLED BUT IF YKYK. and leon just saying the most down right atrocious things in your ear would make me go crazy. 

YOU’RE GONNA SIT THERE AND TELL ME YOU DON’T WANT HIS HUGE ARMS AROUND YOUR NECK, YOU’RE INSANE. 

⟢ last but not least, ✨moaning✨. i like to think that he’s a grunter and whiner at the same time. idk if that makes any sense? he’s loud but not obscenely loud. but sometimes when he overstimulates himself, he’s a complete whiner like lovi (again if ykyk).

[shina913]

I wish you would write a fic where....reader is going to get a pedicure but her normal nail tech is out, and the owner's cute son (you pick the member) who's back in town volunteers to do reader's appointment. (hehehe)

Jess!!! I did it 🤣 I didn’t think I could but I actually had a lot of fun with this! Thank you for this ask. I hope I did it justice 💜

******

Self-Care Sunday | JJK

Pairing: NailTech!Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Meet cute; fluff

Warnings: Some naughty thoughts but nothing explicit; slight references to gender stereotypes and occupations

Word count: 3k+words

Summary: You arrive at your mani-pedi appointment to find out that your usual technician is unexpectedly out. Instead, the salon owner’s son offers to do your nails instead.

A/N: Just for fun! Also, I was too impatient and wanted to actually post on a Sunday, which is why I didn’t have time to find a proper banner image for this. I’ll fix that tomorrow 😅 Thank you @midnightagust for your eyes 🥰 hope you all enjoy this!

Every weekend, you make a point to treat yourself to some form of pampering. Whether you went out to get your hair done or simply curled up on your couch to enjoy a book, ‘Self-Care Sunday’ was a big deal for you. It was a way to reset and prepare for the week ahead.

This weekend, you’re going for a mani-pedi. You walk into the nail salon about five minutes before your appointment time.

The small reception booth in front is empty, but the rest of the ladies who are busy with customers pause to greet you since you’re a regular. You begin to scan the room for your usual manicurist, hoping to check in and get set up.

Oddly, she’s nowhere in sight so you ask one of the ladies closest to you, who was giving a pedicure to another client.

“Annie just left. She said she was feeling sick,” she says to you.

“Oh no.” You look around again to see that everyone else is tending to their own clients. There’s no way any of these ladies would be able to take you on this morning. You’re disappointed but it’s not the end of the world. “I guess I could just reschedule my appointment–”

“No, hun, you don’t have to! It’s why she didn’t call to cancel. Our manager will take care of you.”

The salon’s manager, Lily, wasn’t afraid to jump in to help out whenever it was busy. It was a small comfort to know that the day wasn’t going to be a complete waste and you knew that you were in good hands.

The nail technician points to the vacant spa chair next to her and you help yourself. She pauses her work to fill the basin with warm water so you can soak your feet in while waiting for the manager.

“He’ll be right out, okay?” She says with a smile before turning back to her client.

Your eyebrows scrunch in curiosity. You could have sworn she said 'he,' but maybe you were hearing things. You dismiss the thought and activate the massage function on your chair, then start scrolling through your phone while waiting.

A few minutes later, you notice movement in your peripheral vision. As the figure settles on the low stool in front of you, you raise your head to greet them. Your voice gets caught in your throat when you realize that it isn't Lily.

"Hi!"

You’re stunned at the sight of a man sitting in front of you. He looks young and devastatingly hot. You would never expect to see someone who looked like him at a nail salon, let alone working at one. His big, round, beautiful eyes make you want to melt into the water your feet were soaking in.

“Uhm…h-hi,” you choke out once your brain lurches back to life. “I thought the manager was going to do my mani-pedi.”

He grins proudly, spreading a towel on the footrest of the spa chair. "Yep! You're looking at him!"

You feel confused. Did Lily quit or hire someone new? It’s been three weeks since your last appointment. In the background, you hear the other nail technicians giggling amongst themselves.

Seeing the worried look on your face, he explains, "My mom is taking a break, so I'm filling in for her."

You vaguely remember Lily mentioning her children in passing. Since she looks relatively young for her age, she’s always said that people are shocked to hear when she tells them that she has a grown son.

Well, consider yourself shaken to the core.

"I'm Jungkook, by the way," he extends his hand towards you. You're both baffled and overwhelmed by how handsome he looks. The massage chair's tapping setting propels you forward, snapping you out of your daze.

You reach forward to shake his hand and introduce yourself. Although he has a firm grip, his hands are surprisingly soft, sending a chill down your spine.

“When Annie said that she wasn’t feeling well, I offered to take the rest of her appointments for the day,” he divulges.

You look at him skeptically. You’ve never received a manicure and pedicure from a male technician before—especially not from one who was this cute.

He chuckles. "I know, I know. You're probably thinking, 'Does this guy even know what the hell he's doing?' Well, let me assure you that my mom personally trained me. If she's ever worked on you, you can expect the same level of quality from me. But I understand if you feel uneasy. The last thing I want is for a client to feel that way.”

You’re still apprehensive but he sounds confident. You get a grip and nod, giving him consent to continue with the appointment.

“Thanks,” he says softly and with a look of relief. “You booked a deluxe pedicure and manicure, right?”

The deluxe mani-pedi comes with a longer-than-usual massage on your hands and feet. Thinking about this man's hands kneading your tired muscles makes you sweat.

“Y-yes, I did,” you nervously confirm.

He nods in acknowledgment, and you gulp as he begins to dip the pumice sponge into the basin to scrub your heels. He’s careful and gentle with each pass, totally unlike what you’ve been used to. It’s a stark contrast to these ladies, who have manhandled you in surprising ways—especially the petite, older techs. They’re still sweet, though, and they do a great job, but you admit that this is a nice change of pace.

The rest of your pedicure prep goes smoothly until it was time for the massage.

He drains the water from the basin then he props your feet on the footrest. The stool is too low for his frame but he doesn’t complain. He’d rather make the adjustment so you wouldn’t have to bend awkwardly from your seat.

After drying your feet with a towel, he squeezes some lotion into his hands and starts massaging it into your calf muscles. Typically, some ladies prefer to keep their gloves on for sanitary purposes, but Jungkook has taken off his gloves just before the massage. You figured he was the manager on duty, so he could do whatever he wanted. And not that you had any objections, as the skin-on-skin contact feels nice. Better, actually.

You don't know why, but your gaze is drawn to his thighs, which are spread widely in front of you. It's incredibly distracting and you struggle to look away. You wonder if the awkward positioning of his knees against the spa chair is causing him to sit like that, or if there is something else between his legs that he's trying to adjust for.

“Is the pressure okay?” His question pulls you back into reality.

"What? Oh, yeah. It's good. It's fine," you manage to cobble together. His touch is firm, yet gentle enough to be relaxing. Silently, you think, if he was this good with your legs, how would his hands feel on the rest of your body?

"Are you sure? I could apply more, if you prefer. I always try to start off slow, but I can go deeper, depending on how you like it."

You grip the chair's armrests in response as your mouth goes dry. "N-no, you don’t need to go deeper. What you're doing is...great.” Your voice comes out breathy, but in an effort to distract yourself, you dig your phone out of your purse and start randomly scrolling through your social media feed. Now was not the time to be getting horny over your nail technician.

He suppresses a smile at your response. "Okay then.”

******

You manage to survive the rest of the pedicure without any additional incidents, much to your relief. He slips your sandals back onto your feet with ease, without smudging your freshly painted toes, and helps you over to the manicure table.

Once you settle in your seat, you rest your hands on the cushion and dip them into a cuticle-softening solution while he sets up the rest of his tools. While waiting for your fingers to soak up the solution, he checks in with you.

“Can I get you anything while you wait?”

“I’m good right now, thanks.”

"Okay.” Then, he leans in, lowers his voice, and asks, “How do you think I’m doing so far?"

You smile warmly at him. "I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised." Your toes didn't look streaky, nor did he get polish on your skin. You were impressed!

Your response makes him smile from ear to ear, his nose crinkling in amusement.

"Thanks. I know most women think it's weird to get a mani-pedi from a dude."

You sigh and decide to fess up. He seemed self-aware and appreciated honesty. "Well, I have to be honest—I was definitely apprehensive at first," you admit then follow it with a shrug. "But then I thought, hey, it's a job. If you can do it and have the skills for it? Why not? It shouldn't be restricted by gender."

His brow arches at your remark. "My thoughts exactly!" He agrees emphatically.

You feel another spark of electricity surge through you as he lifts your hand. You watch as he examines your fingers under the light.

“Mm…nice, long, nail beds.” His compliment followed but his thumb brushing over your fingers makes your belly flutter.

“But I bet you probably get that a lot,” he adds with a laugh.

“Not as often as you think,” you say. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was coming onto you.

“Just a regular manicure, right? Not gel?”

“Yeah. I thought, if I got the gel, I can’t get the usual hand massage—”

“I can still give you the massage,” he interjects.

“Oh. But what about the oils? I thought it’s not good for the gel base?” You hesitate.

He shrugs as if it's a non-factor. "I can do the massage after I cure your nails under the light. That way, the polish adheres nicely and it’ll be all set. But if you still prefer a regular manicure, that's fine—we’ll do that. I just want you to know that you have the option," he assures you.

You purse your lips to think for a few seconds. “Well, if you’re sure the massage won’t mess with the gel—”

“It won’t, I promise!” He says confidently. “My mom’s old school and she’d never do it that way but I think that you can still make it work.” After he says it out loud, one of the female technicians next to him scoffs. Seems like she prefers the standard method, too.

Jungkook rolls his eyes subtly at her reaction and turns his attention back to you. “If you don’t like it, I’ll give you your money back.”

That sounded fair to you.

“Alright. I trust you.”

After you decide on gel polish colors, he begins to trim your cuticles and file your nails. But just when you thought you could easily survive the pedicure, him being this close, and at eye-level, was going to be an uphill battle. He looks so focused and precise in his movements; it’s relaxing to watch. Even the little pout he does while maneuvering your finger to apply the polish with the utmost precision to cover every surface of your nail is cute.

You make small talk while he works. Not the usual gossip that you’re used to with the female technicians. You feel comfortable around him but not enough to spill all of your secrets.

“So, are you doing this full-time?”

“No,” he answers before he guides your hand into the curing lamp. “I have a day job but I mostly work from home. My mom said that needed help and I didn’t hesitate to step up. She works very hard.”

Oh no…he’s not only cute but he also loves his mom. You can’t help but feel endeared. You also note that he doesn’t have a ring on his finger. Lily hasn’t mentioned any daughters-in-law, that you recall.

You decide to sound casual to break the tension a bit. “This job must be a great way to pick up women, too, huh?”

He pauses before meeting your gaze. The corner of his mouth curves into a cocky smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Your cheeks heat up. You immediately realize that your comment may have crossed a line, thinking you were at that level of comfort with him just because he touched your bare feet. You kick yourself internally for being presumptuous.

“S-sorry,” you shyly tear your eyes away from him. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

He brushes off the exchange. “It’s cool. Honestly, there aren’t many women falling over themselves to go out with a male nail technician,” he says in jest. “Some people have specific perceptions. They’re usually wrong but I don’t bother to correct them.”

“Oh,” you suddenly feel bad as you’d made assumptions about him too. “I mean, I think you have a lot of patience to be working on nails. Not to mention that you’re a handsome guy who gives great foot massages. I don’t see why any woman wouldn’t want to get more of that.” You catch yourself too late when you realize what you’ve just said.

He snorts your comment but doesn’t pile on it. “You’d think, right?”

You clear your throat and attempt to recover. “Well, you’re also easy to talk to. You keep the conversation flowing.” Your voice is still tight, embarrassed from your ‘cute guy who gives great foot massages’ comment.

“I appreciate that,” he smiles. He examines your nails, one last time, running the pads of his fingers over the polish to make sure that it has set properly. When he’s satisfied, he says, “Looks good. I’ll be right back, okay? Then we can get to your hand massage.” He excuses himself and gathers his tools to soak them in a cleaning solution.

When he walks away and disappears into the back room, you release a breath you seemed to be holding in for far too long. You’d never been this wound up during a mani-pedi.

A few minutes later, he returns and sets a warm towel down. He then moves the magnifying lamp out of the way, giving you a complete and unobstructed view of him. Unfortunately, this doesn't bode well for you.

“So, do you have any plans after this?” He asks casually while massaging circles into your forearms.

You’re all flustered again. “Not much. Maybe I’ll grab some mid-day coffee or something then head home.”

“Nice. Where do you grab coffee?” The feel of him dragging the pads of his fingers on your slicked skin, couple with his piercing gaze are causing your breathing to go ragged again. Suddenly, your brain blanks out on where your favorite coffee spot is.

“Just, uhm—” you struggle to pull the name out of your memory at first but manage to blurt it out when he squeezes your fingers. “It’s not far from here.”

“Oh. I don’t live in this neighborhood so I’m not familiar.” His thumb and forefinger knead your muscles in a way that should normally not feel arousing to you, but it does. And you can’t help when your thoughts slide back into wondering what else those magic fingers can do.

“I figured, if I was going to be helping out here more, maybe I should get to know the area– especially places to eat. You think you can you give me directions to the cafe?”

You shift in your seat. “Well, it’s sort of a hole-in-the-wall place. The GPS is kind of spotty on it. You have to be a local to really know where it’s at.”

“Well, my break’s coming up after this. Maybe we can drive together?”

It takes a couple of seconds for you to realize it. He's not stupid, and you were right – he's definitely self-aware. He knows that you're affected by him. Smiling to yourself, you’re happy to let him know that the feeling is mutual.

Your eyebrows twitch at how forward he’s being. “A break? But it’s only 11:30?” You laugh.

“What can I say? I think I worked you really hard–”

His response makes your eyes bulge and causes your jaw to drop.

“Oh, sorry–I meant to say, you worked me really hard.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and it makes him laugh out loud, too. He was a cocky little shit but you’re not mad at it.

When your laughs die down, he says, “I think we can both agree that we did our best to fight this–” he gestures at the space between you two.

“Oh, is that right?” You ask playfully.

"Yeah. I think we deserve a little treat. Maybe grab some lunch, wherever you want." You’re mildly aware that the massage is over but his fingers are still lingering on your hands while he patiently waits for your answer.

This is one of the most unusual ways you've been asked out, but there's a first time for everything. After thinking it over, you decide to give it a chance. "Okay. But if I agree to go to lunch with you, do I still need to tip you for the mani-pedi?”

He purses his lips in thought for a few seconds before countering. "Tell you what—if you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night, the service is on the house. We can call it even then.”

His playful proposition catches you off guard but it also intrigues you. Again, you find yourself unable to resist his charm.

“Alright.”

Your response makes him smile full-on and it’s infectious, so you can’t help but smile back. He starts to clean up his station, then turns to the older nail technician next to him who saw the whole situation unfold.

“Auntie, please don’t tell my mom,” he whispers mischievously, causing her to laugh after she agrees not to rat him out.

You giggle at his request and tell him, “I guess I’ll meet you out front whenever you’re ready?”

“Sounds good. We’ll take my car so we don’t ruin my masterpiece there,” he points at your hands.

You laugh at his retort and shake your head. Never in a million years did you ever think that you’d find a date a the nail salon. It’s one of the better things to come out of your Self-Care Sundays.

Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 5

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Would she make him change his ways? Even though she resists him every step of the way, would he fight all odds (& her) to have her in his life? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

..........................................................

Ananya reached her apartment around 1 am. Roma was not back yet, thankfully. She wasn’t ready for her interrogation. 

The night still felt surreal. She leaned against the dining table and held on to the edges to steady the head-rush she was feeling. If the Tupperware of leftover pasta was not in front of her (he had insisted she took some coz she had barely eaten), the girl would have seriously wondered if she had hallucinated the whole thing. But no, this really happened. And she didn’t bail on whatever this was, as she had initially planned to do.

The wine was still buzzing in her system, helping calm her nerves. Before turning in for the night, she sent him a quick message.

Ananya: Reached 15 mins ago. Thanks for the drop. 

She wasn’t expecting a response. He must have a ton of people to talk to / respond to after the match earlier that night. So she started an episode of Friends, hoping to fall asleep in a bit.

5 mins later, her phone flashed.

Jude: Cool. Tired?

Ananya: Oh yeah, in bed already. You?

She rubbed her temple to soothe her straining eyes. It had been some day. 

Jude: Wanted to crash but some of the guys still partying at Vini’s house. Cama kept sending me videos, gosh he’s so wasted right now. Came there for a bit.

She smiled at her phone. The team deserved every bit of celebration tonight.

Ananya: That’s nice. Have fun :)

Jude: Yup. What plans for tmrw? Boss cancelled our training so I am free till afternoon. 

Ananya: Have to work a few hours in the morning, which might extend, not sure.

Jude: On Sunday morning?

Ananya: Welcome to investment banking.

Jude: Keep forgetting how smart you are.

Ananya: Not that smart, but ok :)

Jude: So, I have an ad shoot tomorrow evening, then flying out for an away game on Monday after training. Don’t know when I will see you next.

A wave of sadness hit her, surprising her with its force. Her brain admonished her. She had only just met him and she needed to get a grip. 

Ananya: It’s fine. Will figure something when you are back.

Jude: Hmm. Haven’t even kissed you yet and you are already messing with my head.

The sadness was replaced by a warm shiver as she stared at the screen and thought of a response. But couldn’t come up with any.

Jude: Did you just fall asleep on me? 

Ananya: Stop being dramatic. I am right here.

Jude: Naa, wish you were HERE. Why’d you leave?

Ananya: Jude, you know why.

There was something about the way she said his name that made him want to hear it on loop, in various settings. God damnit this girl.

Jude: Yeah yeah. You thought we won’t be able to keep it in our pants.

She choked on water, and some spilled out on her blanket. 

Ananya: How drunk are you?

Jude: Plentyyyy. Don even know what’s been shoved down my throat anymore. 

Ananya: Figures :)

Jude: One last thing. Veryyyy important, like proper critical. 

Ananya: Yes?

Jude: Need to see you in my jersey. 

She smiled to herself before typing.

Ananya: Maybe win the Madrid derby next, score the winner, and then we’ll talk?

Jude: Tough, tough crowd. No mercy. No rest for the wicked. No respect for the Classico winner. 

He was even more dramatic when he was drunk. She could almost hear the whining from his texts.

Ananya: Good night, Jude :)

Jude: Good night, dove. Try not to dream of me too much. Mwahhh!

She smiled at the screen and ended up kissing it, finally drifting off to sleep.

Next morning, she woke up to a message from him. Sent at 5 am. A drunk out of their wits pic with Jude, Cama and Fede. Along with a caption.

Jude: Your preciousss Cama.

Then, another message from a few seconds later.

Jude: Don’t stare too long. 

She responded with a heart emoji to the picture and got started with her day.

Next few hours were hectic. She got into her work mode, shutting out all the madness that had transpired the day before.

Still, in between, her eyes drifted to her phone, to see if there were any new messages. Poor guy must have been sleeping. Or busy. He did say he had an ad shoot in the second half.

She somehow pulled through the day, and it was almost 5 pm when she finally finished work. Roma was also on the same project. The girls sighed about it being Monday morning just  next day, and decided to make the most of their remaining evening. 

They ended up at the same cafe where Ananya had met him the other day. Was it just two days ago? God - so much had happened since then.

She ordered her favourite churros and took a picture. Then wondered whether she should send it to him. Would it look desperate? Like she was just seeking his attention? She couldn’t have that.

But it was a harmless pic. He would get the reference. Deciding to not overthink it, she ended up sending the photo with a caption.

Ananya: Back to ground zero!

No blue tick for over 15 mins.

Roma rolled her eyes at her then.

‘Can you stop the sappiness? Look around - lovely day. Lovely food. Let’s get some Sangria and let the world go to hell.’

Her roommate was the best. The two perfectly complimented each other. Plus, her American upbringing lent her this carefree attitude which Ananya really wished to imbibe.

‘Well, how can anyone say no to Sangria?’

The girls ordered a pitcher and ended up staying there for a few hours. Gossiping about their colleagues. Talking about life. Planning a vacation - Sevilla and Granada were top of their list. They looked up their calendars and found a long weekend that seemed ideal. The prospect itself making them cheerful.

By the time they got back, it was already 9 pm. There was still nothing from him. Not even a blue tick. She knew he was working. Yet, an ugly thought still creeped in - was this just a one night distraction? Did he already…lose interest after she dumped her constraints on him? All her doubts from last night came rushing back, leaving an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

She got into bed and tried watching a movie. Anything random to keep her thoughts at bay. While scrolling through her insta.

And there it was - a post from him a few mins ago about the ad campaign for a cologne. With a gorgeous, stunning model at his arm. Ofcourse. 

The first photo looked like a part of the creative. The two were dressed immaculately in all black, she was leaning against his chest while his hand rested just above her butt. Seductiveness oozing from every inch of that frame.

The next was a BTS video - of him just being goofy on set while getting ready or trying to take a shot & not getting it right. The whole crew just getting charmed by his antics and boyish smiles. The model, in particular being extra supportive, extra attentive, giggling a bit too hard while holding onto his arm. Perfect hair, perfect figure and perfect skin. Ofcourse. 

And just then, her insta reels recommendation showed Jude hugging multiple female fans who had lined up outside his shoot. They screamed his name, begging for hugs and he obliged. Warm, cozy, Jude hugs. Granted he only wrapped one arm around their shoulder and looked embarrassed when some of them reached up to kiss his cheek or pulled him closer, but still. This wasn’t something she needed to see right now. 

Was this going to be her life from now on? Curled into bed, following his activities on social media, feeling inadequate. She didn’t deserve it. No girl deserved this. 

She threw her phone aside and forced herself to focus on the movie. It was already 9:45, it would be best to get some sleep soon. Next week was going to be super hectic at work. Yes, work is what she needed do focus on. That’s why she was halfway across the world in this city. That was her goal in life right now. Not some ridiculously handsome random boy who made women go weak in their knees everywhere he went. 

Around 10 pm, her phone buzzed. She had tucked herself into bed by then and almost decided to not look at it. But curiosity got the better of her.

Jude: Heyyy. Sorry my phone was not with me. Just getting back from a shoot.

She was equal parts relieved and irritated with that message. Ananya took a deep breath to calm herself down, and thought of a neutral response.

Ananya: Oh yeah, you had mentioned. How did it go?

Jude: Not too bad. Somehow got an ok on my take, that’s all I care about honestly. This acting gig ain’t no joke. 

Ananya: Hmm.

Jude: Churros looked lovely. Hope you had fun.

Ananya: Yep, and yep.

Jude: Tired? Am I keeping you from something?

Ananya: Nope. 

Jude: Why so wry then? What’s happened?

Oh, how she wanted to scream. What’s happened was exactly what she didn’t want to happen. What she swore she won’t put herself through with another boy. And this was amplified 1000 times here coz of who Jude was. 

She started typing, then deleted, then typed again, unable to find the right words. This went on for two mins. 

Jude: Can I call?

She sighed, exasperated. Her voice will immediately give away her irritated and confused state. But he knew something was up and typing like this was getting exhausting.

Ananya: Sure.

He called the next second. She braced herself, then answered. 

‘Hey.’

She couldn’t have possibly made it sound drier even if she tried. 

‘Hey. Wassup?’

‘Nothing, was just about to crash. Already in bed.’

‘Hmm, won’t keep you for long. Just wanna hear your voice.’

Damn him. To the moon and back. Damn his sweet agonising voice. 

‘Why? Looks like you had enough company today.’

The words just tumbled out of her before she could check herself. Great going girl, way to make yourself look pathetic. 

He paused for a few seconds.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing, forget it.’

‘Tell me you’ll sort this on your own and wake up all fine tomorrow morning, I’ll leave it be.’

She knew that wasn’t gonna happen. There was also no way for this to ever work if she wasn’t honest with him. Especially given his situation, things will just compound and then break very quickly. If they ever even get started, that is. 

‘The photos bothered me a bit.’

She could sigh him breathe audibly at the other end - probably getting irritated at her insecurity. Or her immaturity. Maybe both. 

‘What about them bothered you?’

Damn him for always making her spell everything out loud.

‘Just…her? Everything about that stunning woman. Looks like she fancied you.’

She could tell the wheels were churning in his mind at the other end.

‘I see. And you think I should be with someone like her. In fact, maybe I am going to her hotel room right now & talking to you on the way.’

Her silence was deafening. Jude gripped the edge of his seat to not curse out loud. 

‘Ananya - didn’t we speak about this last night? Are we gonna go back full circle here?’

‘I am sorry. It’s just - I don’t know how I could ever compete with someone like that. Also, I don’t want to. I am a normal, regular girl Jude. Don’t need that in my life right now, or ever.’

‘YOU DON’T HAVE TO COMPETE. Can’t you see you have already won?’

Warmth and fuzziness ran over her, making her feel gooey inside. She had to clutch her tummy to arrest that feeling. To arrest the freefall. 

‘You don’t know what’s gonna happen.’

Jude fought the urge to throw his phone against the opposite seat. 

‘DO YOU? Does anyone? Girl, why don’t you believe me when I say I want you? Should I list down how much I have fantasised about you the last two days? How much I wanna…..’

‘Stop, please stop Jude. Please.’

Both were breathing heavily at this point, for different reasons.

‘Can I ask you for one thing, Ananya? Try trusting me till I give you an explicit reason not to. I am not such a dog, y’know. Yes, I have seen multiple girls together before but all parties KNEW it was casual. No commitments. This is not that. This is not a situationship. I would have told you to your face if that’s what I was looking for.’

She clutched her phone close to her chest. Him being who he was had made it all so hard. But he was right - he hadn’t done anything. Well, not yet. 

‘I don’t know what to say, Jude. Like I know a lot of this is in my head but I don’t know how to make it go away.’

Heavy breathing continued at both ends. He broke the silence after a few moments. 

‘How about this? Ask me what you really wanna ask me. All your unsaid questions, assumptions, perceptions about me that make you want to distance yourself. I won’t lie, promise. Be the smart girl I know you are and break it down like you will a work project.’

That was actually a fair suggestion. She could see what he was trying to do by appealing to her logical side. Not just a pretty face. Clearly not. 

She chucked her inhibitions on how crude her questions might sound. He was right - without this they would keep coming back full circle.

‘So…when you said you were dating multiple women together..’

‘Seeing…not dating.’

He clarified before she could go on. It was an important distinction for him. 

‘Yes, seeing them together, how long back was that?’

‘In Dortmund.’

‘Hmmm.’

She didn’t know how to feel about that. So she skipped to the next obvious question.

‘And…what about Madrid?’

‘Seen a couple, texted a couple, but not at the same time.’

‘Ok. When was the last time you were…you know..’

He understood the question before her finishing it.

‘Two weeks ago.’

‘I see.’

That wasn’t too long back. Was he still in touch with her? Did they meet up at his house? Something about the last thought made her feel icky.

‘And, these rendezvous, usually happen where?’

He chuckled at her choice of words. She really was something. 

‘At a hotel close by. It’s a private, exclusive property.’

‘Ofcourse.’

He could tell there was a tinge of sarcasm in that last word but chose to let it go.

‘Are you in touch with her….the last one?’

‘Not since a week.’

She was feeling particularly bold at this point. Jude could anticipate her next question from a mile away.

‘Well, are you planning to?’

‘Nope. Not her. Not anyone else. I will only be with you and you will only be with me. Exclusively.’

He declared without hesitation. Her mouth open and closed at his last line, unsure of how to react. He waited patiently. 

‘And what about the hordes of women who throw themselves at you daily? Who would do absolutely anything you want, and more?’

‘There is no easy fix here. You will have to find a way to believe that I will not stray, I will not indulge them.’

He could have backed his statement with evidence. Coz the model from today did slip him her number & he had politely wriggled out of that. But even he had the good sense to know this wasn't the time to bring that up.

She appreciated how he didn’t try to feed her any rosy crap, really following through on answering honestly. His tone & speed of response gave her enough assurance that he wasn’t being evasive. 

She had run out of questions and said as much to him. Weirdly, in some inexplicable way, this was healing.

‘My turn then.’

This caught her off guard. But it was a fair ask, after the grilling she just put him through. 

‘Sure, go ahead.’

‘Open your door in precisely 1 minute. I will ask in person.’

The phone dropped from her hand as she sat up, landing somewhere under the blanket. She reached for it blindly with one hand while switching on the lights with the other. 

‘What do you mean in person? You don’t know where I live.’

‘Agnes knows.’

Ofcourse. His driver had dropped her home last night. Great, his presence was making her dumb now.

‘But….what if someone sees you? Roma is home too. The house is so messy. And I am, I am..One second, your shoot was on the other side of town and this is not in your way. What would you be doing here? Are you messing with me?’

She rambled faster that the speed of light. He ignored every other comment but picked up on the last one.

‘How did you know where my shoot was?’

Damn. Bloody rotten hell. She groaned audibly on the phone and he laughed out loud.

‘Dove is a stalkerrrrrr!’

He said teasingly, in a sing-song voice. 

Before she could respond, she heard a car honk under her window. No, this couldn’t be. He wouldn’t. Would he?

‘Buzz me in and open the door. I am getting out of the car now.’

Ananya rushed frantically to the door, buzzing the building gate open. The idea of someone seeing him here filling her with nerves. Thankfully, she was on the first floor, half a staircase away from the building door.

Three seconds later, she saw him enter the building. Eight seconds later, she was grabbing his arm and pulling him into the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind them.

What was he thinking? What if someone had seen him outside? The media crap storm would have been unstoppable. How irresponsible was this? The gall of him to show up unannounced like that, anytime he wanted. Oh, she was mad. Raving mad.

Before she could turn around and give him a piece of her mind, strong arms wrapped around her from behind. 

‘Sorry. Just wanted to see you once before I fly out tomorrow. Didn’t want to leave on this note.’

And just like that, he knocked the fight out of her chest. With two simple lines. Frankly she was a goner at sorry itself. The boy carried a magic wand of persuasion with him. 

Her shoulders, which were tensed in anger, dropped as she leaned back into his chest. He kissed the back of her head, conveying his gratitude.

She could stay like this forever. In his warm, comforting hold. His scent, familiar by now (when did that happen?), seeping into her skin, taking over her senses. His big, calloused hands enveloping her smaller ones. Involuntarily, she sighed.

‘Thank you for being honest with me earlier. I feel better now.’

‘I am glad. My turn? Only have one question.’

‘Ofcourse.’

He turned her around in his arms and tilted her chin up to look straight into her eyes.

‘Would you let me kiss you right now?’

Time stood still. She was very numb yet very aware in that moment. The dim lighting in the living room from the night lamp, the faint noise from the street, the rhythmic tapping of feet coming from Roma’s locked room who was blaring music on her headphones. All registering in some peripheral part of her brain.

But what she was hypnotised by was his face, and his eyes, gazing intently at her, drawing her in. How was it ever possible to say no to that face? To those big brown eyes which looked even deeper, softer, more vulnerable than ever before?

She didn’t realise when he took off his jacket, nudged her towards the dining table a short distance away, put his hands on the sides of her waist, lifted her slightly to place her on the table. But when her legs were being parted gently so he could stand in front of her, their torsos touching, her trance broke. The heat radiating from his body was palpable. 

Jude’s face was inches away, almost eye level.  A pleasing, handsome, perfectly symmetrical face. The dim lighting creating a halo around him. Ananya tilted her head to look at Roma’s room and if it was still locked. But he put two fingers on her cheek to turn her back to him.

‘Been waiting for this since I saw you.’

Jude lifted her arms & wrapped them around his neck, while his hands stroked her back. The flimsy fabric of her tank top not providing any barrier; it was almost like he was stroking her skin. Her legs, spread wide apart to fit him in, dangled aimlessly on the edge of the table.

How was he expecting a coherent verbal response from her in this situation?

She slowly slid one of her hands from his long muscly neck to his hair, fingers gliding through the thick, firm, soft curls. Her eyes searching his, telling him this is the best she could do right now.

That was all the signal he needed. Her grip in his hair tightened as he angled his head to cover her lips with his. Plump, pillowy lips caressing hers. Making her tightly shut her eyes and whimper out. Which broke something in him.

He dove in again with more urgency, parting her lips this time, getting them to move in sync with his. She gladly obliged, submitting to his rhythm while her heart hammered against her chest. She wondered if he could hear it too. But he was too occupied with tasting her mouth. All her little sounds & shudders giving him a head rush. His hot breath fanning her cheeks. 

When her whimpers went up an octave, he gave her a little breather, connecting their foreheads as they breathed in the same air. Her hands had fallen to the wide expanse of his shoulders, clutching at them to anchor herself. 

He kissed her forehead, the top of her eyes, and placed two delicate pecks on each cheek. His light stubble grazing her skin. She tilted her head involuntarily along with his movements, giving him ready access, like a puppy would to someone petting it. 

‘Ananya, lemme see you.’

The way he said her name, the fondness in his voice, it was like a silent command she couldn’t deny. Her hands gripped his shoulders tighter as she opened her eyes. 

He smiled affectionately, and it took her breath away. All the walls she had built around herself, all the rules, all the notions of just focusing on her work for now, this boy had bulldozed his way through all that with just his breathtaking smile.

Some part of her still conscious brain tried to chide her that she was no different than any of the other girls fawning over him. All it took was him showering her with his undivided attention and she was putty in his hands. But her brain couldn’t get a word in edgewise, her other senses had taken over. 

Jude reached for her hands, unclasped them from his shoulders, somehow sensing the tension in them. What he did next made her lightheaded. He moved his lips to her palms, placing soft, lingering kisses on both. And then, he moved her hands to his face, as if asking her to hold him. Somehow, this felt even more intimate than their kiss. 

His unending torso was all hard muscle, pressed into hers, but his face was soft. Rugged yet soft. Her hands couldn’t even fully cover his cheeks, she noted absentmindedly. So she used the pads of her thumbs to stroke the rest of his gorgeous face. 

Suddenly, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer into him. She looked up in surprise, finding darker, hooded eyes. 

‘The next time you wanna run away from me, remember this feeling.’

Not only had his eyes changed colour but his voice had turned hoarse too. Insistent lips crashed into hers, prying them open, his tongue penetrating her mouth. She gasped at the invasion. One of her hands fell from his face  & settled behind her on the table, trying to find balance, as the force of his kiss made her lean backwards, with him looming over her. 

His spare hand gripped her bare thigh to help steady her. She just realised how her tiny sleeping shorts had completely inched up her legs, leaving them almost fully bare. His hand was firm and his fingers dug into her skin, making her head spin.

She lost her balance, despite his support, falling further backwards and knocking down a container behind her on the table. He broke the kiss & stretched his arm to reach for the container, finding it just before it was about to crash on the floor. While she just panted in his hold.

‘Jude…I..’

‘Shhhhh, I got you.’

They fell into a warm, comforting embrace. Arms settling around each others’ backs. Her face resting in the crook of his neck as he quietly stroked her hair.

‘Did it ever occur to you that it’s hard for me to trust as well?’

That made her grudgingly break the hug and look up at him with confused eyes, while their arms remained locked around each other. 

‘It’s tough to figure if someone really likes me for me or it’s the lifestyle, fame, money and exposure that they are after. If a private encounter would remain private or the details would be splashed over some social media later. If some photoshopped images or invented stories be circulated as sworn truth. I have struggled to judge, so honestly I stopped trying. Keeping it just about sex was simpler. Uncomplicated. Convenient. No strings attached.’

No, it hadn’t occurred to her at all. Not till he put it like that. On any other day, she would have been irked at him trying to conveniently defend his conscious indulgences. But it felt more like an admission than justification. 

She stroked his neck and shoulders as he continued being vulnerable with her. 

‘You see, the normal and regular you think to be such a distancing factor, is in fact the opposite. A huge chunk of my life will always be public, I get that. I signed up for that. But this bit, I wanna protect. I’d love to come home to someone normal.’

Ananya stroked his face with all the tenderness she could muster. Trying to show that she understands. From the way he relaxed into her, she figured he got her message. 

Jude knew he had to be careful with her. Seeing her skimpy nightclothes hugging her body tonight had already disrupted his brain chemistry. He couldn’t shake the thought of how easy it would be to just push her on her back then & there. To rid her of the flimsy fabric barely covering her form l, with one determined tug. 

That’s why he knew he had to leave soon, while he was still thinking with his head. She wasn’t ready, not yet. 

‘That your room?’

He tilted his head towards the open door at the end of the corridor. 

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Want me to carry you in and tuck you into bed? I will leave after a goodnight kiss.’

She met his gaze with a twinkle in her eye, cocking her head sideways, biting her lip slowly. His eyes followed every little movement. 

‘Think you can handle being in my bedroom just to tuck me in?’

Boy, he didn’t see that coming. Didn’t know she had it in her. It immediately made him even more interested. The open challenge in her eyes, the suggestive tone, and that jutting out bottom lip. That needed to be responded to.

He leaned in and bit down at the same spot on her lower lip, making it sting a bit, then flicking it with his tongue. His hand gripped her bare thigh again, knocking the sass out of her.

‘Lippy. So lippy. I love it.’

He continued rubbing circles on her thigh with his thumb till he drew a moan out of her, despite her biting her cheek to keep it in.

‘Your pretty brain may not approve of me yet, but your body is definitely #TeamJude.’

She gasped, and he chose that moment to lean in for a deep goodnight kiss. Making it wet & sloppy, on purpose, so much so that she had to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand when he was done with her.

‘Sleep tight, dove. Talk to ya tomorrow. And..’

He leaned in to whisper in her ear, enunciating each word.

‘Will think about you tonight. Maybe in the car as well.’

With one last attempted wink, he bid her goodbye and walked out. While she was still perched up on the table, her body tingling everywhere he had touched her, her lips tasting of him, and her mind reeling from what had just happened.

……………………… 

There it is. Was delayed because, well, the pictures threw me off :)

As always, feedback / comments are always welcome. Hope you are enjoying their journey so far!

[wttcsms]

wttcsms wags blind bag, one shot collection ;

about poking fun at blind items & wanting to explore wag culture (and also looking for any reason to write about hot anime athletes), this fic collection's theme is inspired by/based off of... well, blind items about wags!

you're what i wanna love on, shugo meian

at the height of peak stardom, you're not just japan's pop princess — you're everyone's. with it comes controversy; your infamously short dresses, the late night parties you attend after every concert, your outrageously expensive concert tickets and merch, your racy performances that have concerned mothers going on social media saying you're a bad influence. adding to your list of typical pop star transgressions, you also have a hot, successful, wildly successful and just barely controversially older boyfriend!

but it would've been fun (if you could've been the one), tooru oikawa

from high school rivals to long-distance college sweethearts to perhaps the couple that got eloped way too early, it's no surprise that you and oikawa end up divorcing soon after getting married. while in your case it seems like love might be a losing game, you and oikawa both only play to win. when the olympics brings you two together once more, there's a good chance you two can reconcile and get your relationship back and better than it was before — or, go down with this sinking ship. with either outcome, at least you two are doing it together.

something to lose, shoyo hinata

heartbroken, jaded, and convinced that all men are garbage, you don't plan on anything happening when you're invited to an after party for a profession volleyball team in order to boost said team's publicity. you don't plan on making any friends or meaningful connections, and you certainly don't plan on getting the number of one of their star player's, shoyo hinata. then again, a lot of things don't go as planned when he's involved, and you don't expect yourself to be happy about these turns of event, but for once you are; happy, that is. and it's all his fault.

easy like sunday morning, wakatoshi ushijima

wakatoshi ushijima is notorious for his devotion to two things: volleyball and his family. during his post-game interview where he's been away from home for nearly two months, interviewers are asking him if he's excited to attend the rowdy after party to celebrate. ushijima's answer? he's taking a flight directly after this interview to head back home. he plans on celebrating the only way he knows how to: by finally being able to tuck in his sweet kids to bed, and then show his beloved wife how much he's missed her.

it's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender, koutarou bokuto

before he gets scouted by the msby black jackals and becomes one of japan's most famous athletes of all time, he's a struggling athlete trying his hardest to get a contract. during the off-season for recruiting, he decides to make some extra cash by using his looks and charms to become a contestant on a reality dating show, where he meets you: beautiful, intelligent, ambitious you, who is so clearly out of the league for anyone. you adore him, and you two have the strongest connection out of everyone on the show, so when he ends up picking someone who's not you, you're shocked. you don't know that he thinks he's doing you a favor because he believes he'll only ever hold you back. when the show invites you two for a reunion episode special, bokuto can only hope your feelings haven't changed.

burn out season, michael kaiser

what do you do when suffer a potential career-ending injury? hopefully not get diagnosed with depression, find out that because you devoted your whole life to your sport, you now have no sense of what to do without it, and then realize the only person who really Gets You is the only person who can irritate you like no one else does. hopefully you don't start to spend your newfound free time with him, and hopefully, you don't start to experience all the fun firsts in your life because of him and with him. or, maybe hopefully you do.

life could be a dream, yoichi isagi

getting together was no easy feat, and yoichi wants to show you how happy he is that you're his. he showers you with presents, shows you off at any given chance, always has a hand on the small of your back or around your waist. his possessive streak only grows when he finally slips that expensive engagement ring on your finger, and he shows you just how good married life is going to be for you.

i was supposed to sweat you out, michael beckenbauer

michael beckenbauer doesn't give a shit about japan, or the other subpar racers who have the nerve to get behind the wheel of the cars just to lose by a wide margin to him, or about how he's perceived by the media. he just wants to finish out this season, return home, and maybe find some worthy competition. he doesn't care if it's your job to try to brighten up his image; he never asked for a publicist, and in typical michael fashion, he's going to go out of his way to get you to quit. he has a bad tendency to underestimate his opponents, though, and off the track, you just might be his worthiest competition yet.

[xomakara]

No One But You

SUMMARY | One drunken night with Xiaojun gave you the most precious thing in the world, your son. Years later, Xiaojun returns from overseas and finally gets to reunite with you and his son. PAIRINGS | Xiaojun/Fem!Reader GENRE | non-idol au, daddy!Xiaojun, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, slight angst, fluff RATING | Mature LENGTH | 6,813 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | Originally, this was supposed to be a fantasy with the whole isekai theme. But this idea had been swimming in my mind lately and so here you go. I hope this makes sense and that it flowed okay. I struggled a bit haha. Hope you all like it.

"Just give it some thought," Renjun, your best friend, muttered one day. You were both sitting in your favorite cafe, drinking your lattes and getting on each other's nerves with an annoying amount of frequency. It was a pretty standard Sunday afternoon to be honest - so you had just agreed to meet here.

Nothing special.

"And what do I get for this?" you asked, glancing up from your coffee. Renjun had been pestering you to join him at this new company your friends Mark and Johnny established. They promised it would be very profitable and the pay was good as well. And he was very persistent. Like never ending. He'd been talking about it nonstop since yesterday morning when you woke up.

You rolled your eyes and went back to sipping your coffee. "I mean it's not like I don't want to help them out, but they're not giving me any kind of perks."

"You get to see eye-candy all day long." Renjun snorted. "How is that not a perk? At least this way you can finally find someone who'll satisfy you better than-"

"Don't you dare say his name." You muttered under your breath.

"C'mon Y/N." Renjun patted your hand. "It's been years since you last dated Jungwoo. I’m sure he’s happily married and has kids. Besides, you have a son now, too. Does Xiaojun know?"

Xiaojun...

The father of your son.

You've known Xiaojun since your college days. He was a friend of Renjun, Mark and Johnny and he always tagged along whenever you hung out with them. Back then, he used to flirt shamelessly and his charm would always manage to make you laugh and blush simultaneously. You were in a serious relationship with your ex, Jungwoo, during that time, but that all changed however, when you ended your three year relationship with him. Your relationship just didn't work out. He cheated on you multiple times. You loved him with all your heart, though. But you couldn't be with someone who hurt you constantly. Your heartbreak left you feeling empty and lonely. Your entire world crumbled around you and you felt like nothing could ever go right again.

Your friends were there to help you through your tough times. To cheer you up, Renjun and the others dragged you out to the biggest Neo frat party of the semester, despite your constant protests. Of course, you had fun that night. It was a relief to forget about your troubles for a while. In a drunken stupor and clearly horny, you found Xiaojun dancing nearby. Without thinking twice, you walked over to him and grabbed his hands to sway to the music. And god, he was sexy in those leather pants and tight black shirt. It was hard to resist him and not give into temptation. After a few minutes, you decided to dance closer to him. And God, he smelled so good. Like fresh air, soft lips and spring flowers. That did it. Before you knew it, you were making out with him against the wall.

Things quickly escalated and before you knew it, the rest was history. It was just a one night thing between you two. And you never did date him. He left to study overseas a few weeks later and disappeared off your radar.

When you found out you were pregnant a month after that drunken night with Xiaojun, you were scared and confused. You never imagined that one drunken night with him could have changed your future so drastically. The urge to tell him that you were pregnant was overwhelming. You wanted to reach out to him, talk to him, tell him about the baby, apologize for what happened that night. But you also couldn't deny that your decision that night wasn't completely your own.

You'd been depressed and lonely since your breakup with Jungwoo and Xiaojun provided you with the comfort you needed. Was it wrong of you to use him that way? Or did you deserve something more? If you chose to keep the baby, who would take care of it? Where would you live? Who would be its father?

You had to tell someone and you eventually told Renjun, Mark and Johnny about your pregnancy, revealing that Xiaojun had to be the father since he was the last person you’ve slept with. Your friends reacted predictably: they offered their unconditional support and told you that you were strong enough to raise the child on your own. They were your best friends and they wanted to be the best uncles they could be to your son.

But even after that fateful night, you continued to think about what could have been if he had stayed. If you had found out you were pregnant if you were together.

You shook your head. "No, he still doesn't know about our son."

Renjun sighed. "You know he's back in town. He’s been asking me about you too. Its just a matter of time before Xiaojun talks to our friends and finds out he has a son. You should tell him before that happens."

"I know but I can't just tell him I got pregnant after one drunken night together. There are too many details involved."

Renjun ran his fingers through his hair. He sighed and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. "What are you going to do, Y/N?"

"That's the problem. I don't know what to do." You mumbled. "I don't want him to resent me or hate me. I want him to love my son and accept him. That's all I ask for."

"Then just tell him. I'm sure he won't mind if you told him the truth."

"But what if he does?" You replied, looking down at your cup. "Wouldn't that complicate things? Especially since we have a child together. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if he blamed me for ruining his life or something. I wouldn't be able to look at him or be near him anymore."

Renjun shrugged. "Who says he will blame you? You guys are adults, after all. Plus, we’re not children anymore. Our lives are different. It's not the same as back then. I think you're just being paranoid."

"Am I?" You looked up, frowning. "Do you really believe I am?"

He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Not really, no. I know you, Y/N. You're more forgiving than most people. But sometimes, people need to face the consequences of their actions. And even if they don't, there are plenty of other fish in the sea. It's not like your son needs a man around to protect him."

Renjun waved away your concern. "So don't let your feelings towards him ruin your happiness. You deserve to be happy, Y/N. So tell him about your son."

“I’m home!” You called out as you stepped into your apartment.

You heard the pitter patter of small feet and a small figure ran out of the bedroom before launching unto you. “Mommy! Mommy!”

You cooed as you picked your son up in your arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around your neck and buried his face into your chest. "Hi Dongjun, my beautiful angel. Did you miss me?"

"Of course!" He squealed excitedly. "I missed you, mommy."

“You’re so silly.” You giggled as you planted a kiss on top of his head. “You don’t need to miss me because you’re going to see me every day. Right?"

Dongjun giggled excitedly and nodded his head. "Right mommy!"

"Good." You hugged him tightly. "Because I missed you too."

The two of you walked slowly down the hallway. Dongjun held onto your hand and grinned widely as he talked about his random adventures with Uncle Jisung, your younger brother. When you asked where Uncle Jisung was, your son pointed at your brother's room stating that 'Uncle Jisung is studying'.

“Hey Mommy, wanna watch a movie with me?” Dongjun asked, tugging at your shirt sleeve.

“Okay honey, but first, can I change into comfy clothes?” You questioned, pointing towards your bedroom.

“Mm hmm.” Dongjun nodded enthusiastically as he plopped on the couch and proceeded to watch TV.

After changing into sweats and a loose t-shirt, you settled down next to your son. You placed your hand on his head and smiled as you stroked his hair gently. It was nice being able to spend quality time with your son. Dongjun was so happy when he was with you. He loved watching movies and playing games with you. You could already tell that he was smart, mature and creative. If only you could turn back time, things would be different.

You wondered how life would have been if you told Xiaojun about Dongjun. Or how it would be if you got together with him. But looking at your son, you knew that whatever happened, you made the right choice. No matter what choices you made in the past, your son will always be yours.

“Alright, time for bed. Let’s snuggle.” You told your son as you pulled him close to your body.

“Yes!” Dongjun grinned happily.

You leaned over to kiss him on the forehead and you smiled as you closed your eyes. At least one good thing came out of that drunken night, you thought.

"Mommy?" Dongjun suddenly asked as he poked you in the arm.

"Hmm?" You opened your eyes and glanced at your son. "What is it honey?"

"Did you love daddy when you first met him?"

“Hmmm…now that’s a tough question to ask me, squirt.” You pinched his cheek. “How should I answer it?”

“I think you loved Daddy.” Dongjun said confidently. “Because if you didn’t love Daddy, then I wouldn’t be here today. So you must have loved Daddy when you first met him.”

You smiled as tears welled up in your eyes. Dongjun was such a sweet boy.

"Sweetie, you are the most important person in my life. And no matter what happens, I will always love you." You hugged him tightly. "I am very lucky to have a child like you."

"Aw, Mommy. Thank you." Dongjun wiped away the tear from your eye. "Now let's go to sleep, okay?"

"Yes." You nodded. "Night-night, Sweetie."

Dongjun yawned as he curled up in your lap. You kissed his forehead again and whispered good night in his ear. Then you watched as he drifted off to sleep.

You didn't expect that your life would turn out like this. You had always dreamt of finding true love and getting married someday. But fate decided otherwise. Now you were living alone, raising your son singlehandedly. A part of you wished that things could have been different. Maybe your son would grow up knowing his father. Maybe you could've dated Xiaojun or find another man to share your life with.

But all those questions went unanswered as you drifted off to sleep.

There was nothing you could do about it. The past is the past. And there was no point dwelling on it anymore. Your son was the only light in your life. Without him, you would have been lost in despair and misery. You may not have found love, but you learned to accept what fate gave you.

Everything else was secondary.

God damn, he's still handsome.

You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip as you watched Xiaojun put in his order with the waiter. Even after all these years, you still found him attractive. And he noticed you noticing him. His smile widened and he leaned towards you slightly. You held your breath as you smiled politely.

There was no denying that you felt some attraction to him back in your college days. If you weren’t dating Jungwoo back then, you would have jumped on the chance to get with Xiaojun.

But you never acted on those thoughts. There was no reason to start a relationship with him when Jungwoo was willing to be by your side. But that was before there were problems in the relationship. Before you broke up with Jungwoo. Before you found yourself alone.

Back then, everything was perfect. You were the happiest girl alive. Everything seemed so easy. You spent all your time doing fun stuff with your friends and boyfriend. As long as you were with them, you couldn't imagine a life without them.

It was an exciting time in your life. You were young, carefree and optimistic. Life seemed limitless. You had so much hope and dreams. What would you do now that all those hopes and dreams have faded away?

All that was left was regret and pain.

And now here you were, years later, sitting across from him as he gave you a sweet smile. That smile was one thing that always got to you. Especially after all this time. You tried to act natural, but the truth was you felt like you were caught in your own private show. And you weren't the only one noticing him. There were quite a few women gawking and flirting with him, although he seemed to not notice.

Xiaojun stared at you intently for a few moments before speaking. "So how are you doing, Y/N?"

"Eh, good, thanks." You shrugged. "How are you?"

"Glad to be back home." He said, smiling broadly. “I really missed Korean and Chinese food here."

You gave him a small smile. "It’s good to see that you were doing good overseas though."

"It was tough but it was worth all the experiences." Xiaojun grinned.

“I bet.” You nodded, trying not to look at his mouth. Jesus Christ, he still looked edible. You were tempted to lean forward and kiss him, but you managed to hold yourself back. "So Renjun mentioned that you've been asking about me. What's that all about, huh?"

Xiaojun blushed as he fidgeted in his seat. "Uh, well…" He paused. “I guess I just miss hanging out with you and the others."

"Life has gotten in the way, that's all." You sighed. "But I promise I'll try to spend more time with you now that you’re back home."

"Really?" Xiaojun raised an eyebrow. "Like, on a regular basis?"

"Maybe." You grinned sheepishly. "Or maybe not. Depends if you keep bugging me like Renjun always does. I wonder why I'm still friends with him..."

“Ha ha, you wouldn't trade him for the world.” Xiaojun replied with a laugh.

"True that.” You chuckled. “He’s my best friend after all.”

A small silence followed. Both of you simply stared at each other awkwardly. Finally, Xiaojun broke the silence. "Listen…I'm sorry about what happened in college. I never meant to hurt you. You're one of my closest friends and I don't want anything to ruin that."

"You never hurt me, Xiaojun." You shook your head, a faint smile on your lips. "I was heartbroken when Jungwoo dumped me and I needed a distraction from the pain. We were both drunk and horny at that frat party. I don't regret that one night with you. I don't blame you for it. None of it was your fault."

"You're a good person, Y/N." Xiaojun muttered quietly.

"Thanks." You replied sincerely. "Sometimes I feel guilty for using you to distract myself. And even after all this time, I can't bring myself to look at you without thinking about Jungwoo. It's a stupid reason, huh?"

"No, it's understandable." Xiaojun smiled gently. "People need distractions sometimes. Plus, that one night turned out to be pretty good for you. You enjoyed yourself, found comfort in someone's arms, and felt loved. It helped you get over your broken heart. Even if it was just for one night."

"Yeah. And thank you for that, by the way." You smiled softly. "For taking care of me that night. For listening to me cry about my ex."

"Don't mention it." Xiaojun said as he waved away the compliment. "You were hurting and I cared about you. You needed some comfort and I wanted to provide that for you."

"That makes me feel better." You laughed. You sucked in a deep breath. “Xiaojun, can I tell you something?”

"Of course." Xiaojun assured you.

You hesitated for a moment. It had been years since you talked to Xiaojun but you hoped that he would understand where you were coming from. After a few minutes, you decided to continue.

"It’s hard for me to say this but…” You took a deep breath. “Xiaojun, you’re a dad…”

“Wait, what?” Xiaojun gasped.

“We have a son,” You answered quickly. “His name is Dongjun.”

Xiaojun blinked several times. “Are you sure he’s mine?”

"You were the last person I had sex with before I found out I was pregnant." You nodded your head and pulled out your phone, scrolling through the pictures of Dongjun. “He looks exactly like you. Just look at the pictures.”

Xiaojun stared down at the photo of Dongjun on his phone. He took in the picture and blinked slowly. His expression softened as he looked back at you.

“Our son…” He murmured quietly. “Wow.”

“I know you might be mad or disappointed that I didn’t tell you but…” You paused. “I wasn’t ready to face you after I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come back to Korea and take care of me and the baby because we had that one night together.”

Xiaojun shook his head, a small smile on his face. "Y/N, don't worry about that. I know our relationship is complicated but there is no way I would ever resent you or the baby. In fact, I feel happy to hear that you're raising our son well."

“I’m glad you think that.” You smiled. “I never really talked about you. When Dongjun asks where you are, I just tell him that you had to work somewhere far away. How do you tell a four year old that his mom and dad aren’t even a couple? How do you tell him that his mom and dad were drunk and horny one night and that’s how he was conceived? Telling him that you worked far away was the best option.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Xiaojun sighed. “Can I meet him? Please, Y/N? I would love to meet my son.”

“Of course, I’d like you to meet him.” You agreed, nodding. “And knowing Dongjun, he already loves you very much.”

“I already love him too, you know?” Xiaojun gave a slight laugh. “I wish I had met him earlier. Things would have been different between us. I wouldn’t have gone overseas. I would have stayed and we could have explored if there was truly a connection between us.”

“Maybe things wouldn’t have changed that much.” You reminded him. “Even if you did stay, we were really never together. Not after that one night. All we did was sleep together. There was nothing more than sex going on. You flirted with me, sure. And I needed comfort from a broken heart. So there was nothing binding us together.“

“Yes, there was.” Xiaojun argued. “The first moment I met you, that first time you smiled so sweetly at me when Renjun introduced us, I knew I liked you right away. It’s like I could see you clearly for the first time. The way you walked, your attitude, your body language, everything was so perfect. But you were with Jungwoo at the time. I didn’t want to ruin your relationship with him, so I just tried to hang out with you whenever possible.”

He sighed, looking at you softly. “After you broke up with Jungwoo, I realized that I was in love with you. That one drunk night at the frat party made me realize how I felt about you. And I never stopped loving you since then.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, suddenly feeling sad.

“I didn’t want you to rush anything. You were healing from a broken heart and I didn’t want to add more problems to your life. I just knew that you needed love and comfort even if it was for one night.” Xiaojun explained. “And I didn’t want to scare you off by telling you how I felt.”

“I understand.” You whispered sadly. “But you should have told me sooner. Maybe I felt the same way.”

“Well, I’m telling you now.” Xiaojun said, giving you a reassuring smile. “Did you ever felt anything for me? Like, was there any chance that you could have fallen in love with me?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “If I wasn’t dating Jungwoo back then, I probably would have started to develop feelings for you too. Maybe even developed them into something more.”

“I’m glad you said that.” Xiaojun breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Xiaojun, now that you’re back for good…” You paused. “Do you think that we could give this another shot? Maybe see where things really go between us? If you just want to be friends or just in Dongjun’s life, then it’s fine with me. But I just thought…”

“I want that too.” Xiaojun cut you off. “I want to see where this goes. With you, and Dongjun. I can be the father that Dongjun deserves and I will make sure to devote myself fully to my son and to you.”

“Okay.” You agreed. You stood up and grabbed his hand. “Come. Let’s go see our son.”

It took you but minutes by car to reach your apartment. You reached your door and unlocked it, calling out, “Dongjun! I’m home!”

Dongjun ran out of his room with a huge smile on his face. As soon as he spotted you, he jumped into your arms and gave you a big hug.

“Mommy! Mommy! I missed you!” He exclaimed happily.

“I missed you too, baby. Where’s Uncle Jisung?” You questioned, wondering where your younger brother was.

“Uncle Jisung is watching TV.” Dongjun suddenly noticed Xiaojun by the door. “Mommy, who’s that?”

You and Xiaojun exchanged looks. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself.

"Well… Let's introduce ourselves, shall we?" You offered nervously.

Dongjun looked between you and Xiaojun curiously, wondering what was going on.

“He looks exactly like me.” Xiaojun muttered. “I can’t believe we made such a beautiful child.”

“Dongjun, this is your daddy.” You introduced the two of them.

“Daddy!” Dongjun squealed excitedly, jumping off your lap and running towards Xiaojun. Xiaojun hesitated for a second, still unsure whether he should accept Dongjun’s warm embrace. But after a brief hesitation, he leaned down to hug Dongjun with a big smile.

“Hi Dongjun. I’m your dad.” Xiaojun said softly.

“Dad! Dad! DAD!” Dongjun exclaimed loudly, unable to contain his excitement. He wrapped his tiny arms around Xiaojun’s neck, hugging him tightly.

"Oohh." Xiaojun gasped, surprised by Dongjun’s reaction. His body went rigid and he clutched onto Dongjun even tighter.

"Is everything alright?" You wondered, noticing the tension in the air.

"Uh… Yeah, it's fine." Xiaojun laughed. "Just caught me off guard, that's all. He’s just so energetic."

You nodded, chuckling. “Don’t worry, Xiaojun. You’ll get used to it.”

“I love him already.” Xiaojun breathed out. “This is the happiest day of my life.”

You smiled widely. You couldn’t help but tear up at the sight of Xiaojun being so affectionate with Dongjun. This must have meant so much to him.

"We're both so happy that you're here, daddy!" Dongjun exclaimed, planting kisses on Xiaojun's cheeks.

"Thank you for welcoming me, Dongjun." Xiaojun replied gently.

Dongjun giggled and wrapped his arms around Xiaojun's neck once again. Xiaojun laughed at Dongjun's enthusiasm. You grinned and looked at each other, sharing a small laugh.

“This is going to work out really well.”

It had been a few months since Xiaojun had moved into your apartment. Your brother Jisung had moved out and said that he and his friend, Chenle, found an apartment to share. You knew that Jisung didn't want to get involved in the love fest between you and Xiaojun.

Yours and Xiaojun’s relationship slowly began to blossom and develop into something more. It started with a few sweet kisses here and there. Soon enough, they became an everyday occurrence. At first, you were nervous and embarrassed. You wanted to wait until Dongjun grew older before letting him catch you kissing his father. However, you soon realized that letting Xiaojun seduce you was the most exciting thing you had experienced in a long time. And not only that, but seeing Dongjun's excitement while witnessing these intimate moments between you and Xiaojun, well…

It was adorable.

At some point, you started falling for Xiaojun. Hard. Your heart raced every time you saw him and every kiss sent shivers through your entire body. Soon enough, the longing to be with him outweighed everything else in your life. You knew that Dongjun loved Xiaojun as well, which helped ease your worries.

One night, the three of you were watching a movie when Dongjun asked you and Xiaojun a question.

“Mommy, Daddy, can I ask you a question?”

You looked over at Dongjun and he was eagerly awaiting your answer.

“Sure, honey. What is it?” You asked.

“Where do babies come from?” He inquired.

You and Xiaojun looked at each other, smiling awkwardly. After a few seconds of silence, you decided to take control of the situation.

“Honey, babies are actually made when mommies and daddies love each other very much.” You told him.

“Ohhh…” Dongjun stared at you and Xiaojun intently. “Then does mommy and daddy love each other very much?”

Xiaojun turned to look at you with a wide grin on his face. “Why yes, my little prince. We do.”

Dongjun beamed at the sight of Xiaojun's prideful expression. Then he looked at you and smiled.

“Does that mean I can have a baby brother or sister?” He asked, nodding vigorously.

You and Xiaojun exchanged looks again, smiling at each other silently. Finally, you pulled Dongjun into a tight hug.

“Of course, honey. One day, I hope that you'll have lots of siblings.” You whispered softly.

“Mmm. I'd like that.” Dongjun murmured, snuggling closer to you. "I love you, mommy. I love you, daddy."

You squeezed him tightly. “I love you, sweetie. So much.”

Dongjun eventually fell asleep in your arms. You glanced over at Xiaojun who was sitting next to you on the couch, playing with Dongjun's hair idly.

“Xiaojun?” You called out softly.

“Hmm?” He responded, continuing to play with Dongjun's hair.

“I've always wanted to tell you this.” You admitted, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “I love you.”

His eyes widened at the sudden confession. A few seconds passed before he spoke.

“I love you too.” He whispered, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

Your heart fluttered at the sensation of his warm lips on yours. You felt yourself become flush as you pressed against him.

The moment was broken when Dongjun yawned, causing you to let go of Xiaojun's hands. You watched as he gathered his sleeping son into his arms. The two of them quietly made their way upstairs, leaving you alone downstairs.

Your cheeks were flushed red and your mind was filled with images of Xiaojun making passionate love to you on the sofa. Even though it was completely innocent, you found yourself feeling extremely aroused. You wondered if Xiaojun was feeling the same way.

After tucking in Dongjun, Xiaojun returned to the living room. He sat down beside you and looked at you lovingly. “I love you, Y/N. I want no one but you.”

“Who would have imagine one drunken night would lead to us being together again.” You sighed.

“That night changed everything for us.” Xiaojun agreed. “Our lives haven't been the same ever since.”

“I know.” You sighed, leaning against Xiaojun's chest. “If it weren't for that night, I wouldn't have had Dongjun or met you again.”

Xiaojun nuzzled his nose against your forehead. “Neither of us could have predicted how fate would bring us back together. And I am so grateful that it did.”

Your hands caressed his cheek. “I don't regret a single second we spent apart. I think our time apart made us realize how much we needed each other. Without you, Dongjun would never have existed.”

Xiaojun cupped your face in his hands and leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips.

“Let's enjoy every minute we have together, okay?” He suggested.

You melted into his touch. Every kiss, every touch felt so right. For the first time in your life, you truly felt like everything was coming together perfectly.

"Yes, Xiaojun." You agreed, nipping his bottom lip playfully. "Should we give our little one a sibling?“

He grinned. “Definitely.”

“Have fun and don’t come back pregnant!” Renjun called out, Johnny laughing next to him.

“Dongjun, be good for the uncles!” Xiaojun called out, Dongjun excitedly chasing Mark.

“Yay! Sleepover with Uncles Renjun, Mark and Johnny!!” Dongjun shouted happily, throwing his arms in the air.

Renjun grabbed hold of him, swinging him around in a circle. “Yeah! We’re gonna have so much fun!”

You and Xiaojun exchanged hugs with Dongjun before getting into the car and driving back home. Both you and Xiaojun thought it would be good idea to have the guys take your son for the weekend so that you both can spend some time together alone.

Xiaojun held your hand as he was driving. His thumb gently stroked your fingers, sending goosebumps across your skin. Your mind drifted to thoughts of what would happen later tonight.

The only time you had sex with Xiaojun was that one drunken night all those years ago. Since you’ve officially gotten together, you’ve slept in the same bed but you’ve never touched each other intimately. You didn’t want Dongjun to catch the two of you if you were being sexual in any way shape or form.

But tonight was different.

Tonight you planned to surrender yourself to Xiaojun completely. This time you wanted to remember everything that happened and now that you’re together, it would be easy for you to recall all of the feelings and sensations.

As soon as you walked into your apartment, Xiaojun pulled you close and kissed you passionately. You groaned at the taste of his mouth on yours. His strong arms enveloped your waist, holding you firmly against his body. You slid your hands up his muscular arms and ran them through his hair. You savored the sensation of his scalp under your fingertips. His dark locks glistened with drops of sweat as he released his lips from yours and looked deep into your eyes.

“Do you want me?” He asked breathlessly.

“Always.” You breathed, closing the gap between your lips once again.

Xiaojun growled deeply as he pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss. He moaned as your tongue met his and instinctively he slipped his hand under your shirt. You gasped as he traced the edge of your bra, your nipples hardening instantly.

"I need you. Right now." He breathed heavily.

Your breathing matched his pace. You peeled off your shirt and unhooked your bra, allowing it to slide off your shoulders and drop to the floor. Xiaojun smiled widely as he looked down at your naked breasts.

"God, I forgot how great they looked." He remarked, licking his lips hungrily.

He reached down and took your hands, pulling you closer to him. You stood before him, waiting patiently for him to make the first move. Suddenly, his mouth was on your left breast, sucking strongly on the nipple. Your hands immediately clutched his head, encouraging him to continue. You couldn’t help but moan loudly.

"You know..." He murmured between licks and kisses. "I've always wanted a repeat of that night. To feel your naked skin against mine... to kiss your body... to feel you come for me."

"Me too..." You gasped. "At least this time we're sober."

He laughed as he brought his lips back to your right breast, sucking and nibbling lightly. Your hands continued to run through his hair. You closed your eyes as his warm breath tickled your skin. When his hand finally reached your shorts, you grabbed his hand only to help him pull your pants off. Xiaojun slid his fingers underneath your panties and into your wet folds. You trembled as he played with your clit.

"God, you're so fucking wet." He muttered, chuckling. "And so ready for me."

He pulled away momentarily, to pull his shirt off. He slipped his fingers inside of you as you undid his belt buckle and zipper. Soon enough, his cock was freed from his pants and you wrapped it with your hand. As soon as you started stroking him, his hips bucked upwards.

"Fuck!" He grunted, removing his fingers from you and sliding your underwear down your legs and throwing them to the side.

His eyes met yours as he bent his head down and captured your mouth in a kiss. You moaned as his tongue found its way inside your mouth. You were still stroking his length as he pushed you towards the sofa.

You sat down, running your hand over his muscular chest. You looked at him with lust filled eyes. "Xiaojun..."

"Yeah baby?" He asked, brushing your hair behind your ear.

"Can I... suck you off?" You requested, leaning forwards.

"Oh god." He breathed. "Are you sure?"

You nodded your head.

"Y/N..." He groaned as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his dick.

You hummed as you sucked, using your tongue to flick it quickly across the tip of his shaft. Xiaojun slowly stroked your hair as he watched you work his cock with your mouth. His own eyes were half-closed as he basked in the pleasure.

You took more of him into your mouth, moving your head up and down slowly. You could hear him moaning in pleasure as you moved your mouth faster and faster. He gripped the back of your head, keeping you firmly in place. You could feel his member throbbing as you took him deeper and deeper.

You began to increase your speed, taking more of him into your mouth at a rapid pace. Xiaojun grunted as he reached his limit, jerking his hips violently. You kept going until he was completely spent, spurting his hot cum onto your tongue.

You swallowed his seed greedily, wanting to taste every last drop of it. After cleaning his cock with your tongue, you withdrew your lips from his member and rested your head on his thigh. You turned your head to look at him, a small smile gracing your lips.

"Good job, baby." He praised, running his hands through your hair. "You're amazing. But I'm not done yet."

He kneeled in front of you, placing his hands on either side of your head and leaned in to kiss you passionately. Your tongues tangled in a heated embrace as you moaned into each other’s mouths. Xiaojun began to stroke your inner thighs, eliciting a loud gasp from you.

"Xiaojun...please...inside me..." You whimpered, unable to hide your desire.

"Not yet." He whispered huskily. "You've been so good for me already. I don't want to stop just yet."

Xiaojun knelt in front of you, kneeling on the floor. He pulled your legs apart, admiring the view. Your pussy was swollen and wet, calling out to him. He bent down and kissed your inner thigh softly, his breath tickling your skin. You shivered uncontrollably. Xiaojun raised his eyes to meet yours.

"Open your legs wider." He commanded, gently pushing your knees further apart.

"Mmm..." You moaned. "Yes, Xiaojun..."

You were lost in ecstasy as he placed soft kisses on your inner thighs, one by one. You could feel his fingers spreading your moist lips apart, exposing your swollen pink flesh to his gaze. He lowered his head to lick your slit delicately. You could feel your juices beginning to drip down your thighs. Xiaojun lifted his head to stare at your flushed cheeks, grinning widely.

"Your body is perfect." He remarked, tracing the outline of your lips with his index finger.

With one swift motion, he plunged his finger inside of you, making you cry out. He moved his hand slowly, circling your g-spot while also stimulating your clitoris with his thumb. The combination of pleasure overwhelmed you and soon you were clawing at the sofa cushion in an attempt to grab onto something.

"Xiaojun, please...oh my god!" You cried, unable to contain yourself.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked softly, trailing his tongue along your inner thigh.

You nodded vigorously, unable to find words.

"Say it, baby." He urged.

"Please... fuck me." You begged, panting heavily.

Xiaojun got up off the ground and looked at you. You had the cutest blush on your face as you gazed up at him. He cupped your cheek, smiling brightly at you. "Come here."

He walked towards the bedroom, dragging you behind him. Once he got there, he sat on the bed, grabbing your hand and pulling you on top of him.

"Y/N, I love you." He said, brushing your hair out of your eyes. "No matter what happens, no matter where we go, no matter what our life has become... I will always love you. Please believe that."

He looked deep into your eyes, watching as tears began to stream down your face. "I love you too." You choked, tears falling freely.

His eyes softened and he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. "Let's get married. Let's give Dongjun brothers and sisters to play with."

You closed the gap between you and planted a tender kiss on his lips. You felt his erection growing beneath you and slowly maneuvered yourself to sit atop him. His fingers wrapped around your waist as you settled yourself comfortably on top of him. Xiaojun caressed your face with his hands.

"I can't wait to make you my wife." He whispered, looking into your eyes.

He slid one of his hands down to grip your ass, lifting you slightly. You sighed as he pressed himself against you. The tip of his cock nudged against your opening, getting you excited once again. Xiaojun groaned, pressing forward slightly. You threw your head back and forth as you felt his member slip inside of you. Xiaojun leaned down and pulled your lower lip into his mouth, sucking gently on it. You moaned as you felt the fullness inside of you.

"God... Xiaojun, that feels so good." You panted.

He lowered you down and continued to thrust upwards, hitting that sweet spot every single time. His hands held tightly onto your butt as he pulled you harder and harder onto him. Your cries of pleasure echoed throughout the room.

"Oh shit... Y/N... baby, I'm gonna-" He started, but you cut him off with a kiss.

"Xiaojun...not yet..." You mumbled against his lips. "I don't want it to end just yet."

Xiaojun chuckled softly and kissed you deeply. You ran your hands through his hair as you pressed against him. He continued to thrust rhythmically into you, his balls slapping against your ass. You could feel your orgasm approaching rapidly and you moaned loudly.

"Cum for me, baby." Xiaojun ordered.

You dug your nails into his back as he picked up his pace. Xiaojun knew exactly when to slow down or intensify his movements. Every time he touched you in the most intimate of places, it sent chills all throughout your body. Your hands clenched the sheets beneath you, nails scratching against the material. You bit your lip hard as Xiaojun fucked you harder than ever before.

"Baby, I'm gonna..." Xiaojun warned. "Fucking... shoot my load inside of you."

"Fuck, Xiaojun...please!" You cried, grasping at his back. "Cum in me!"

"Ahhh fuck... Y/N!" Xiaojun cried out, losing control. He pulled your hips back to meet his strokes, burying his entire shaft inside of you. You screamed out in pure ecstasy as he filled you with his cum. His cock pulsated inside of you as he came, coating your insides with his warm fluids. Xiaojun fell limply onto the bed beside you, both of you panting heavily. You rolled over to face him, gasping for air. He grinned at you as you traced your fingertips along his jawline.

"That was incredible." You declared, giving him a passionate kiss.

Xiaojun pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arms around your body. You snuggled close to him as you let out a content sigh.

"So what do you say?" Xiaojun whispered into your ear. "Would you like to be my wife?"

"Yes." You whispered back, giggling. "Of course. I want no one but you and Dongjun. Only us. Always."

[opposums-love-arson]

Scream Queen Book 1: Conventional Final Girl

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Stu Macher x Reader x Billy Loomis

Okay so basically let's just cut to the chase, the main character "(y/n)" is Sidney Prescott's little stepsister, yeah? Well, what happens when she takes Sid's place as the final girl? A whole lot. Disclaimer: All rights reserved to the copy righted owners of the Scream franchise. The only creative input I had in this fan fiction was the part of (y/n), almost everything else can be found in the movie. Follows the movie very closely. I mean the actual movie, not the script. Obviously switching out some parts to fit the narrative. It takes a couple of chapters to really get it kicking but I promise it gets good. *NO SMUT* these are still high school students and I do not want to overtly sexualize KIDS! And if you make the argument of "I'm not a kid" I'm 18 been there, done that, don't try it.

  "Hello, who is it?" I asked into the large telephone. 

"No one in particular..." Sounds like another one of the boys' prank calls.

"Okay Mr. No one in particular, any reason for the call?" 

"No reason in particular, just wanted to talk." 

"Hmm okay then talk," I said as I swiveled around in my chair.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" The raspy but oddly pitched voice asked. 

"Oh I've got plenty but you might want to sit down, it'll take a while." 

"I've got time." 

"Ya know, stuff like Halloween, Friday the 13th, Texas Chainsaw. Then there's creature features like The Thing. B-horror like Slumber Part Massacre or Sleepaway Camp." I finally finish my rambling when I hear my step sister and her boyfriend in the other room. 

"Do you really like scary movies?" 

"Oh yeah definitely but I think it's mainly because of my step sister's friends?" 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah, I mean I always liked horror but they really got me into it. Especially our friends Randy, Billy and Stu, they're crazy about that stuff!" I said as I flopped down onto my bed. 

"What's a pretty girl like you doing with all those guys?" 

"They're not a lot of guys, if anything it equals out our group," I said, completely avoiding the whole 'pretty girl' thing... that was kind of weird. 

Hearing a knock at my door completely startled me. 

"Oh um hey I have to go but feel free to call me back anytime," I whisper into the phone quickly placing it back on the body. 

It was obvious the person on the line was saying something before I hung up but I didn't bother to listen 

  In popped Neil's head from the other side of the door. "Hey kiddo who ya talking to?" He said as he looked around. "Hm? Oh no one, what's up Neil?" I asked, now back in my desk chair. Neil was a good guy, I'm glad he and my mom started dating, they actually just got engaged! I think I was more excited about it than my step sister, Sindey, she's still grieving. "Just got done talking to your sister, I'm going to hit the sack, remember I'm not back until sunday. Cash on the table and call if you need anything," He said waiting for me to say something. "Alright got it Neil, have fun at the expo!" I waved him off before he closed the door. 

  My mom and I didn't move to Woodsoro until she really started dating Neil. It's always just been her and I for as long as I can remember, but it feels good to be part of a complete family again. I missed our old home at first with all my friends and family but Sid quickly took me under her wing. I met all of her friends including Stu, Tatum, Randy and Sid's boyfriend Billy. I'll admit it was weird at first because they just saw me as the little step sister but once Randy and I went on a ranting debate about which was the real pioneer of Slasher; Texas Chainsaw or Black Christmas, it got a lot easier. Even though Stu and Billy were pretty cute I'll never be used to Stu's wild energy, nor Billy's slightly shady behavior.

  The next morning didn't go quite as expected... There were reporters, cameras, and news vans posted up all around school. Sid and I were freaked the moment we got off the bus. She was looking around bewildered by everything going on until we spotted one woman in particular, Gale Weathers. To say the least, Weathers was a total bitch towards Sid's mom's name. 

"Can you believe this shit?!" We heard a voice pop up from behind us. Sid totally jumped. 

"Tatum, what is going on?" Sidney asks, waving her arm out to the school. 

"Yeah, since when was Woodsboro flooded with reporters?" I looked over at Tatum, crossing my arms over my chest. 

"You don't know?" Tatum asked both of us, a hint of amusement on her face.

"No," Sid and I said in unison, still confused. 

"Casey Becker and Steve Orth were killed last night," She said with a harsh but light tone just above a whisper. 

"What?! No way!" Sid softly exclaimed. 

I was too shocked to say a single word so I just listened. 

"And we're not just talking killed, we're talking splatter movie killed. Ripped open, from end to end," Tatum talked about it with entertaining ease, like it was just gossip. 

I think I'm going to be sick. 

"Casey Becker, she sits next to me in English," Sid said looking over at her best friend. 

I think you mean sat, Sid. I thought. 

"Not anymore," Said Tatum with a wobble of her head. 

She went on saying, "It's so sad, her mom and dad found her hanging from a tree. Her insides on the outside." Shoving her hands near her stomach. 

"Oh my god," Sid said as she reached for the back of her neck, probably to feel the goosebumps that appeared. 

"Do they know who did it?" I finally asked, feeling the urge to know. 

The two looked over at me with Tatum saying, "Fucking clueless, I mean they're interogating the entire school? Teacher, students, janitors." 

"They think someone at school did it?" Sid asked

"They don't know, I mean Dewy was saying this is the worst crime he's seen in years. Even worse than-" Tatum paused when I nudged her side, "Well, it's bad." She finished. 

The bell signaling the start of the first period rang.

"C'mon Sid, we gotta get to class..." I said as I lightly grabbed her hand, giving it a slight reassuring squeeze. 

"Yeah, alright..." She responded, removing her hand from mine. She's just going through a lot right now. 

  Sitting through the first period is weird when you have a seat that was right behind a dead person. Not Casey Becker but Steve Orth. He'd ask me for a pencil or notes every day because he forgot his. Claimed it was because of football practice. Soon enough the five minute bell for next class rang. A class that didn't have any dead students.

  Walking to my locker to rotate my books I was blocked by none other than Stu Macher. 

"Hey, (y/n)," He drawled out my name with a big smile, "Whatcha up to?" 

"Getting my books Stu, same thing you should be doing." 

"C'mon, you're not still upset with me, are you?" He asked with a fake pout 

"Yeah actually I am Stu!" I shouted in a whisper 

"I couldn't help myself, I mean look at you?" He said as he squished my face. 

Swatting his hand away I said, "That's no excuse!" 

"You can be such a prude," he said as he leaned his head on my locker. 

"No, it's called being a good friend with a balanced moral compass that can see when her friend's boyfriend is about to cheat with her." I huffed as I slammed my locker door. 

"C'mon, (y/n)! You can't stay pissed forever! You'll come around eventually!" Stu shouted after me. 

"Like hell I will!" I shouted back. No matter how abundantly clear my feelings for him are, I would never do that behind Tatum's back.

[lavendertales]

SEÑORITA: Chapter 4**

pairing: Javier Peña x Murphy!f!reader

summary: Javier agrees to help you fix the pipes at your apartment. though you don't expect to be so affected by his presence there, certainly not when you seem to be friends now.

word count: 5.5k

series warnings: reluctant friends to lovers, lots of playful banter, mutual pining, slow burn, secret relationship, filthy smut.

chapter warnings: some tension, female masturbation.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

series masterlist | AO3

One might think that after all the loss, bloodshed and destruction witnessed in Colombia, nothing—or very little—would daze Javier. The rough, cruel things, those he’s used to.

What he’s not used to are the little things: small rituals that could make or break his day. So it comes as nearly a shock within the following few weeks when he unknowingly begins a morning ritual with you.

The two of you go to work in the opposite direction of the street; Javier takes his car, you head for the subway. Nonetheless, you began to run into each other as you rushed out the building in the morning. He greeted you with a nod, to which you flashed the typical polite smile down his way and he held the door open for you.

Once, twice, thrice… and before he knew it, he’d been doing it every single morning, five days a week, for over a month. You didn’t exchange pleasantries or talk much, just the occasional “how’s work” and “how have you been”. This was the sole interaction you had with Javier; you never visited each other or even looked for each other. That sole good morning salutation, paired with the bare minimum of holding the door open for you, was the one contact you had with your brother’s best friend.

Yet somehow it became important for Javier to maintain that little morning ritual, otherwise his whole day would just be no good.

Even today, a Sunday, he feels fidgety as he mindlessly cleans the nooks and cracks of his apartment. Is it safe to say that greeting you in the morning has been the highlight of the past four weeks? Sure. Would he do the same thing for any other neighbor, considering there is no serious meaning behind the gesture?

This question remains unanswered.

Mostly because Javier doesn’t want to acknowledge that there is anything special about his morning ritual with you. There isn’t anything special, he reminds himself as he begins to clean the sink. You’re just a neighbor, his friend’s little sister who is very much off limits. And luckily, he doesn’t feel attracted to you, not in the typical way. He’s curious about you and amused by your comebacks towards Steve, oddly mesmerized by your intelligence and determination, but that’s about it.

That’s as far as he’ll let it go.

And you too know your limitations: you never do more than offer than stereotypical polite smile at him, never give him anything which could be interpreted as flirting. You do find him very attractive, but that is simply an objective remark. Matter of fact, neither one of you crosses that invisible line between politeness and flirting.

You choose to spend your Sunday morning a little differently, however; when Sylvie called you at 7 am sharp to let you know she was on her way to have breakfast with you, you grumbled something along the lines of “great, I was totally awake before you called” and jumped out of bed to get ready. Ten minutes later, if the brewing pot of coffee didn’t alert your senses, the incessant buzzing at the door certainly did it.

“You know you can buzz just once, right?” you tell Sylvie.

She shrugs, letting herself in. “What’s the fun in that?”

You roll your eyes, welcoming her inside nonetheless. Sylvie has been a godsend in all aspects—ever since college, the two of you have been practically inseparable. One could not invite you to a party and not expect Sylvie to show up, and vice versa. You were a little afraid once you graduated, wondering where life would take the two of you and hope that the two of you could stay in touch at least.

Luckily, when Sylvie told you she got a job at the same library you did, you couldn’t have been happier. Things were perfect, and somehow they still managed to remain perfect once Sylvie met Zack. Curiously enough, Zack fit in with the two of you just fine, never making you feel like the third wheel in their relationship, or like he was an extra whenever you and Sylvie required your girl time.

Such as this morning: you and Sylvie enjoy a hearty breakfast together, followed by a much needed cup of coffee, laughing and sharing updates about your lives without any outside distraction.

“Have you talked to Steve since the dinner?” she asks.

“Quite regularly, actually.”

“I really don’t know how you do that.”

“What?”

“Move on like nothing happened. You never really talk about the elephant in the room, so you just let things boil and boil—“

“Syl, it’s just not like us to have sappy conversations. Mostly because he’s so much like mom and dad, he probably won’t ever hear me properly.”

“Baby, that dinner was proof that all this tension you let simmer between you guys for over a decade is brewing at dangerous temperatures now and it’s starting to tip over! You’ll need to have an open and honest conversation at some point.”

You put down your mug and so does Sylvie, staring right at you. She opens her mouth to say something else, probably something smart like always, when her eyes shoot upwards, the hint of the smirk on her face disappearing. Even when confused, there’s just something about her that’s very enthralling, like she’s a piece of art staring off into the distance. You’ve always been a little jealous of how she carried herself so effortlessly and cool, while you had to put on a brave and sarcastic front just to survive in the concrete jungle and let people know you meant business.

“What’s that noise?” she inquires.

“Pipes are acting up again. Other tenants reported the same issue. I called the building manager and he said a guy will get here.”

“Great!”

“Next week.”

She swallows a groan. “Typical.”

“Yeah. Gotta find a faster and better solution. Maybe I can ask Javier. He seems quite handy.”

Instantly, Sylvie raises her brows suggestively, waiting for a continuation on your part. But what she gets is a mere snicker from your side, disapproving and mocking.

“Don’t start,” you warn her.

“You know, I’ve seen this Javier around. Steve’s best friend, right?”

“So it’s been established.”

“What you failed to mention is that he’s ridiculously hot. I’m talking strictly objectively here, of course.”

You frown. “And how is that relevant to the pipe situation?”

“Might be, since you’re considering bringing him into your apartment to ‘fix your pipes’.”

“Okay, first of all, theoretically, it’s still our apartment. Your name is still on the lease. Second of all, could you please not say it like that? And lose the air quotes, for fuck’s sake. That’s exactly what I want to ask him. Don’t turn this into something dirty.”

Then Sylvie bursts into laughter, a sound serene and alluring like her, much to your annoyance.

“Oh, my sweet summer child,” she laughs, putting her mug down as well. “You are such a fool.”

“We’re neighbors. Acquaintances through my brother, and maybe—maybe—a tiny friendly, but that’s being generous.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d like having him be all handy for you.”

You can’t help the chuckle that leaves your mouth. “Would you stop it already? It’s literally nothing like that. Besides, he let everyone know that I am not his type, which is great because—“

“Because he’s exactly your type.”

“Uh, no, excuse you, I was into bad boys. Which he is not. Not anymore, at least.”

“Are you kidding me? Hello! That is the sexiest category of bad boys there is!”

Your frown deepens. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Sylvie sighs, irritated at your possibly purposeful oblivion, so she stands up and walks around the kitchen, as if trying to compose herself.

“I cannot believe I have to explain this to you since you were the queen of dating bad choices,” she sighs again, “but here we go. A reformed bad guy is the sexiest thing because he wants to put his past behind him and be a better man. He wants to do good things, to be good. And mark my words, this Javier is gonna be on his knees before you, asking you to teach him how to be good, and then you’re gonna be in big trouble, missy.”

You listen to her all the way through, rummaging her words carefully before deciding that she must’ve been insane. “I was following you in the first half, but then you lost me. This man is super stubborn and way too independent to ask anyone anything.”

Sylvie grins, sitting back down. “Like I said. Mark my words. He’s gonna be on your knees for you, being all ‘teach me how to be good, baby’.”

“You seriously gotta stop. I cannot imagine this ever happening.”

“Really? Not even the part about him being on his knees for you? Cause that’s hot.”

“Syl—“

“Hell, it did things even for me, and you know how grossly in love Zack and I are.”

“Okay, finish your coffee and get out of here.”

“You’re throwing me out?!”

“You said enough shit for one morning.”

Sylvie giggles, and it prompts you to do the same. You do your best to shun all those images about Javier, images you absolutely did not need. Not now, not ever.

Again, there is no denying the objective fact that Javier is a very attractive man. However, there is such a thing as dating bad boys, even reformed ones, and those days are long gone for you. You know better than anyone that those flings never ended well, and how different could it be with someone who’s aware of past mistakes and wants to be a better person?

 Mark my words, this Javier is gonna be on his knees before you, asking you to teach him how to be good.

Sylvie’s words echo painfully in your head, so you shake your head vehemently to deny their mere existence having been spoken into the world. There’s nothing to worry about, you reassure yourself.

Monday mornings at the library were some of your favorite times ever. There wasn’t a crowd—because yes, this could be a real problem sometimes—which meant you could organize the shelves at your own pace, sip from your coffee, far away from your boss’s eyes, and even read something for yourself if things were really quiet.

So you woke up in a very good mood, managing to ignore the obnoxious noise coming from the pipes whenever you used water—while you still had it, that is—and went downstairs. To your surprise, there was no sign of Javier this morning. You didn’t want to wait around like some kind of creep or even like someone who’d acknowledge that the reason why you were waiting was something bigger, so after roughly a minute you made your way into the street and towards the subway.

You were a tiny disappointed that you and Javier didn’t get through your little morning ritual, mostly because you wanted to ask him if he could help you out with the pipes in your apartment. There was no way you’d last in this state till the end of the week, and by then, it was highly probably that you’d run out of water too.

So you take a mental note to stop by his place after work and ask him if he has some time to help you out.

“Still not thinking about what I told you yesterday morning?”

You raise your eyes from the book you’ve been reading to find Sylvie’s smirk waiting for you. With another roll of your eyes, you close the book and stare disapprovingly at her.

“About what, exactly?” you retort.

“Handsome guys on their knees—“

“Stop it.”

“So… yes.”

Her smirk turns into a bright smile, one that you could not be less impressed of.

“Is there a point to this conversation or…?”

“Of course. You’ve got a handsome customer waiting at the counter.”

You frown. “Why didn’t you help him out?”

“I’m on organizing duty in the back. Sorry.”

You exhale, heading to the front whilst mumbling several cuss words at Sylvie. God, you love her to death but sometimes she can be so relentless with all of her damn—

“Javier?”

You’re more surprised than you were this morning, that’s for sure; you exchange a glare with him, noticing he’s not sharing your sentiment.

“Hola, seño—“

He stops himself, pursing his lips together and following up with your name and nothing else.

“Hi,” you smile, albeit your unremitting confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“People usually come to these places to get books, so… I’m here to try that, too.”

“I meant more like, what are you doing at this library?”

“I’m on my lunch break and Murphy did mention you worked nearby so I figured I’d stop by for some books.”

You nod slowly, returning to your usual customer voice. “Okay then. What can I help you with today, Javier?”

“Do you have any Pablo Neruda books?”

Eyes wide and mouth parted, you stare at Javier for what feels like minutes on end, trying to acknowledge what you just heard.

“You read Pablo Neruda?” you can’t help but ask.

You also realize that you must look incredibly shocked, which could be deemed offensive to him, and yet it seems that Javier is ready to burst into laughter, even as he frowns at you.

“Why is that surprising?”

“It’s not, it’s just—I wouldn’t have expected you to read love poems.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’d expect someone visibly soft and kind, a hopeless romantic, to read love poems. If you are like that, you’re very good at hiding it. Or rather you really don’t like showing it.”

Javier gulps, avoiding your eyes for a little bit.

“Hit a nerve?” you check.

“Kind of. I wanna say you read me like a book but—“

You chuckle, making a sign for him to follow you. “Anything specific from Neruda you’re looking for? We got some of his work here.”

“Cien Sonetos de Amor. One Hundred Love Sonnets.”

“Have you always read love poems?”

“Not always. Since I came back from Colombia, a whole lot more though. They’re… hopeful, I guess. And soothing. Is that weird?”

You smile, thankful that you’re in front of him so he doesn’t notice that.

“Not at all,” you reply. “It’s wonderful, if anything. I haven’t met any guy who willingly read love poems. Especially not someone I’ve heard is some sort of bad boy.”

“Reformed.”

“Right.”

A reformed bad guy is the sexiest thing because he wants to put his past behind him and be a better man.

He wants to do good things, to be good.

You quickly shake your head, denying Sylvie’s words. She might be right, but this is not what it’s happening here.

“So you’re secretly a romantic?” you joke, perusing through the N shelf.

You hear him draw a heavy breath, which prompts you to turn around to look at him. You think you detect a hint of sadness on his face, but you could be mistaken. You don’t know him that well, after all.

But you do wish you could be there as a friend at least. He does look like he needs a confidant.

“I don’t know,” Javier eventually replies, his voice distant when he does.

“Surely you had at least one relationship that could confirm or infirm that theory.”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And… I don’t know if I am.”

“Didn’t you love her?”

“I loved her. I was just not… in love with her.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly you’re thinking that the reason why Javier reads love poems isn’t necessarily because he’s romantic, but maybe for research. Maybe he wants to better himself by knowing more about intimacy and relationships and how it’s perceived by the opposite gender.

He wants to do good things, to be good.

“Here you are,” you announce, handing him the book. “Cien Sonetos de Amor, 1959, paperback.”

Upon noticing the look on Javier’s frown, you take a step back and stare at him.

“What?”

“N-Nothing. You just—your Spanish pronunciation is really good.”

“Are you serious?”

“Very. I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone pronounce the words so clearly, so…”

He gulps, choosing not to finish the sentence and definitely not to recall how you basically had your hand in his pants without anyone really noticing.

“Thanks,” he clears his throat. “For the book.”

“Anything else you need?”

He falters; for a single fucking second that freezes in time, he falters.

“No, I’m good.”

“Oh, by the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you for a favor. If you have the time and patience, obviously.”

“What’s going on?”

“Not sure if this is happening in your apartment too, but there’s a pipe maintenance situation going on. Or lack of maintenance thereof.”

“I did hear some funny noises, yeah.”

“I called the building manager and he said someone will come by the end of the week but I’m afraid I’ll run out of water. Any chance you’re good with pipes?”

Javier opens his mouth to respond, coming to acknowledge the fact that this is foreign territory: him coming to your apartment, even if to help you, is something hard to explain. Just picturing the explanation to Steve is equal parts hilarious and troublesome.

No, yeah, I went over there just to help clean her pipes. Drained them out entirely. Nothing else happened.

But he doesn’t need to justify his help offering to Steve, does he? It’s innocent.

“You’re in luck,” Javier announces. “I know my way around a house.”

“Secretly a romantic and good with housework? Hard to believe you’re not fighting off the ladies right now.”

“If I were, I wouldn’t be going through this shitty ass dry spell.”

Fuck. Why did he say that? He shouldn’t have said it ever, much less in a public library or to you. Luckily you just seem amused.

“You too huh?” you chuckle.

“Wait, you too?”

“A year and a half. You?”

“A year and two months.”

“This is… interesting. No idea why I just confessed to this here, or to you.”

“Maybe we do have some things in common.”

“No people to sleep with? Great common ground to start on.”

You both chuckle, eyes straying away from each other though. You feel that if you look at him now, you acknowledge the fact that there is a simple solution for the biological need you’re feeling, and that you both have the same idea, but know that it would only complicate things and that you should not go down that road.

Even if it would be a great distraction if nothing else.

“Anyway,” you clear your throat this time around, “here you are, sir. One Pablo Neruda book, 19.99.”

Javier hands you a twenty dollar bill, you cash it, give him the receipt with a smile. Your fingers accidentally graze against each other and you both pull away abruptly, oddly embarrassed as if every little thing that happens to you isn’t a normal occurrence, but rather on purpose.

Could it be because of Steve’s warning to Javier, constantly booming in the back of your heads? Did he really get to you that bad that you viewed any regular interaction as a threat? And a threat to what? Fun? A potentially good relationship, or friendship?

“Is it okay if you stop by tonight?” you ask him.

“Sure.”

“I should be home by six.”

“Then I’ll see you at seven.”

“Great. Thank you, Javier.”

Seven p.m. Plenty of time to prepare mentally.

You had enough time to take an improvised, super quick shower, arrange things in the apartment and—wait. Somehow the waiting around is causing your head to spin for whatever reason, so you decide to at least make some dinner. Maybe Javier will be hungry too by the time he gets here.

When the doorbell rings, you twitch. It’s involuntary, a reaction from deep within your conscious. You’re not sure why, it’s not like you plan to do anything devious or mischievous in any way.

Or maybe it’s just the notion that you got an attractive man visiting you in your private quarters, which hasn’t happened in almost two years. And truth be told, that one time wasn’t really exciting. At first, sure, but the whole experience just felt wrong.

“Hi,” you say as you open the door.

“Hi.”

“Come on in.”

Javier does, and he takes a look around. The place is shiny, as clean as he would’ve expected, hints of pale lavender around the walls. You fleetingly remark that he’s still dressed from work, wearing a black suit with white shirt and a navy blue tie.

“Can you tell I’m a fan of purple?” you joke.

“It adds color, it’s nice.”

“Why, thank you.”

“Are you hungry? I made some roasted vegetables and chicken breast.”

“Oh, it’s okay, I don’t—“

“You don’t—what? Eat?”

Javier smiles embarrassedly, eventually agreeing for a plate of food. This isn’t so bad, he thinks. It’s just dinner with a neighbor, and he’s here to help said neighbor with an impending emergency.

But the moment he takes the first bites out of the food laid on the plate before him, it takes everything in his willpower to not groan at the culinary delight that’s in his mouth.

“Wow,” he munches instead. “This is… amazing.”

“You’re not just saying that, are you?”

“We don’t really know each other but I think you know by now that I don’t ever say shit I don’t mean.”

“Fair point. I’m glad you like it.”

“This is seriously amazing. Were you always a good cook?”

“Shockingly, no. learned early in my twenties so that Sylvie, my best friend, and I don’t starve. Students surviving solely on noodles or bags of chips it’s just not healthy.”

“If you cooked like this, it’s more than healthy. Shit, I don’t think I’ve had such a great meal since I was a teenager.”

Your smile widens, simultaneously at the compliment and at picturing a young Javier at the dinner table with his family, eagerly devouring the food.

“Thank you,” you coo. “I take it you didn’t get to enjoy many home cooked meals in Colombia?”

“Not really, no. Not unless Connie and Steve invited me over or I went to restaurant, but the latter wasn’t a common occurrence.”

You notice the bleak expression on his face and you refrain yourself from asking more questions. You eat in silence, exchanging the occasional glare, and you feel a dark cloud resting above Javier, as if it’s always with him.

“I’m sorry if I hit a nerve asking about Colombia,” you apologize. “I know from Steven that it was a very dark time and… it’s none of my business.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I’m trying to hide anything.”

“But you don’t like talking about it.”

“Not in particular, no.”

“Okay. Then how about we finish here and see what we can do about the pipes?”

“Great idea.”

You don’t get to protest when he cleans the table and starts doing the dishes. You try to, but he does it so fast you don’t even fully process that he’s doing it. Instead, you thank him and steal the occasional glance at the mystery man in your kitchen.

“Do you want a glass of wine?” you offer, regretting it the moment it came out of your mouth.

“Uh… it’s fine. Shouldn’t drink tonight.”

“Right. Probably not a good idea since you’re working with tools.”

Yeah. That’s why.

You open the door to the cabinet beneath the sink and hand him the toolbox you had prepared when you rushed home, and let him do the job. Your throat feels ridiculously dry when you see Javier rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, thus exposing his forearms. You feel the need to talk; this way, you’ll be able to control those pesky thoughts that begin to run free throughout your mind right about now.

“Thank you so much for helping me out with this,” you say. “How are you good at this, by the way?”

“Growin’ up I used to help my pop a lot around the ranch.”

“Grew up on a ranch, did ya?”

“Sure did. Laredo, Texas.”

You could hear a little bit of accent earlier, but you try your hardest to not focus on it at the moment. It’s a slippery slope from that to… other things.

“What’s it like in Laredo?”

“Hot as hell.”

You giggle against your better judgment, avoiding looking too intensely at the way his biceps flexed under the shirt as he screwed the nails harder.

“But it can be beautiful too,” he continues, a slight groan leaving his throat as he does so.

“Why did you leave then?”

Javier makes brief eye contact with you, and you instantly feel remorse. “Sorry,” you whisper. “None of my business.”

“I don’t mind. It’s just—no one’s ever asked me aside from Steve and Connie.”

“So what you mean is… no woman you were seeing has ever asked personal questions about you.”

“You got me.”

“Regardless, I really appreciate your help. You’re a cheaper option than calling the handyman myself. No offense.”

“None was taken until just now.”

You allow your eyes to fall to his arms, feeling your heart race a little faster. It’s just the dry spell talking, you remind yourself.

“I could still pay you though,” you try to joke.

Javier glares at you from under the sink, a dark look in his eyes, one that seemingly thinks about devouring you wholly, and you shudder.

“Cash only,” he replies, “and I’ll need a down payment. Other types of payment are accepted."

“Not gonna sleep with you.”

“You’re missin’ out.”

“I’m good.”

“So am I.”

You laugh, audible and hearty, and Javier smiles as well, grateful to be under there where your visibility to him is limited.

“Got any plans for the weekend?” he changes the subject instead.

You grin. “Why, are you asking me out?”

“I’m good.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Just makin’ conversation.”

“Well, since you asked, Connie and Steve suggested getting some drinks and dancing. In reality, I’m pretty sure it’s a setup for a blind date, but I am prepared to let the guy down gently if that’s the case.”

There’s a bitter taste in Javier’s mouth, even as he keeps switching the nails on the pipes and grunts in the process. He feels the sweat accumulating at his temples and trickling down his neck and chest, causing his shirt to cling to the skin a little bit, but he doesn’t care.

“You’re dating then,” he says, voice hoarse.

“No. But I figured I can at least be polite and hear the guy out.”

“Right, yeah.”

“You can come too if you want.”

The snort Javier lets out is mocking, and you realize as much.

“To witness your date?” he keeps mocking. “Why would I wanna do that?”

“I meant to join us for drinks. But now that you mention it, maybe if I show up with you, then I won’t have to go through with the blind date.”

“So… what, you want me to pretend to be your date? That costs extra.”

“Just—be there. Or not. Whatever you choose. But you do realize this might involve dancing, right?”

“I can handle it.”

Shook, you scooch down to catch at least a glimpse of his face. “You dance?”

“I suddenly regret ever telling you anything.”

You laugh, even heartier and crystal clear, and it’s such a pleasant sound to Javier’s ears, even underneath the sink, in that bizarre and crowded place, he still smiles.

“You should regret it, Texas, cause I’m definitely using this against you. as friends to, of course.”

“We’re friends now?”

You shrug, unbeknownst to him. “I’d say so. You ate my food, we shared some information about each other and now you’re fixing my pipes. I’d say this is what friends do.”

“Alright. Friends.”

“Unless you’re incapable of befriending a woman.”

“I’m not.”

The exchanges continue, with you and Javier teasing each other almost relentlessly for nearly another hour. Gradually you steal more than glances at Javier; at some point you downright stare, obnoxiously so, but without a clue from his side. It feels forbidden to even glare at his strong arms flexing, stretching the white shirt covering what you can only assume is golden brown skin, but you can’t really stop yourself. You only look away when Javier shifts in the slightest or when it looks that you might make eye contact, but otherwise you feel like a hawk stalking its prey, listening to its call.

And the way Javier calls out to you right now, unknowingly and unwillingly, is through grunts and little beads of sweat and muscly arms. It hits one of your weakest spots, and you cannot deprive yourself of at least this image, regardless of how indecent it might feel to blatantly stare.

You cannot deny in this moment that you feel deeply attracted to him, and that the dry spell definitely impacts your thinking. You barely think of anything coherent to tell Javier on his way out other than what now feel like meaningless thank you’s, so you resort to walking him out with a polite smile and ask if he plans to join the three of your for drinks over the weekend. He says he might take you up on that offer, and all you can see is the way sweat clings to his now semi-buttoned shirt.

When you’re alone in the apartment again, you exhale at long last, denying yourself a glass of wine that you crave because there is a much urgent need to be taken care of.

Time seems to stand still as you dim the lights and lay on the bed, your fingers nearly twitching in anticipation. You try your best to empty your mind as you bury your fingers in the hot, wet bundle of nerves between your legs. That first stretch is delicious, needy, and all but begging for immediate release. A soft gasp escapes your parched mouth, unwanted images plaguing your mind with each thrust of your digits, growing more and more impatient. You deny the existence of those images, yet they still flood your mind and body no matter what you do.

You don’t normally think of anyone in particular when you’re bringing pleasure to yourself, you never have; but now, your body is completely afire reminiscing of Javier’s strong arms, biceps bulging beneath the thin white shirt, his little grunts, sweat collecting at his temples and on his forehead dripping dangerously south to his neck. Your fingers work on their own accord, moving faster and alternating between thrusts and circles around your clit. You arch your back, imagining the same arms pinning you down, those thick digits of Javier’s being buried in your cunt instead, and a jolt of pleasure tingles your spine, prickling your skin.

Eyes closed still, the images of your mind get more vivid and now Javier’s darkened figure rests above you, both your bodies joined together and an overwhelming sensation of fulfillment. Though a ghost sensation, you’ve never felt this full, all stuffed with Javier’s cock, his palms gently cradling your face. You imagine him to be a mixture of rough and soft, always attentive to his partner’s needs.

You’re so close now—so fucking close it’s damnable considering what you’re thinking about: Javier burying himself inside of you to the hilt, balls deep, till there’s physically no space left for him to be inside you, and yet you’d still beg for more. You’d beg for more of his cock and his hands, more of his mouth, any part of him he’d wish to share with you. You’d beg him to make you come however he likes it, self-esteem long abandoned after your second or third orgasm. You’d beg him to come inside you, to milk every droplet he’d have to spare and to feel both your arousal dripping from your swollen pussy.

At long last, you come, an unexpected sound staining your lips.

“Ja—Jav…”

It’s a repeated sound, something throated and raw, animalistic even, and it shocks you to your core. It shocks you when you begin to settle down, your body temporarily sated. It feel wrong on all accounts, forbidden and so damnable. There’s a faint taste of blood as you bite on your lips and beg your mind and body to not finish the rest of that ecstatic sound. You’ve never came this messily on your own, especially not whilst thinking of someone. You remove your fingers from your heat, now slick with arousal and a filthy proof of your forbidden desire.

Fuck. What did this man do to you?

No. No, it’s not about him. You’re going through a dry spell and he’s just the recipient of a biological need. If you would’ve met an equally attractive guy and have interacted with him on the daily, this would’ve most likely happened as well.

It’s just something biological. It’s not about your brother’s best friend. It can’t be.

Can it?

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tags: @pedrostories @psychedelic-ink @milkymoon2483 @ifall4dilfs @casa-boiardi @spidermanfrog

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The Moustache

The Moustache

Hello! Today, we’re answering an anonymous request: “Helloooo! You see I woke up from my nap thinking about this… You see how Ben had a mustache in the cabinet of curiosities when he played old william? I don’t really know if it was fake or he had to grow it, but for the shake of this idea lets gonna pretend he had to grow it. I remember years ago reading a Sebastian Stan fic where he also had to grow the mustache for the I, Tonya film and reader be like “I’m not kissing you until you shave that thing off your face” and I thought it would be fun reading something like that Ben? If you’re down for it. Reader being playful and turning her face when he tries to kiss her or something like that🙈 I’m not really fan of guy’s with mustaches but I guess we always can make exceptions….”

I have no idea what the fanfic the anon is referring to, but the idea is absolutely adorable, so let’s goooo!

Thank you for your request, anon! I hope you enjoy your fic!

I hope you all like this cute little fic! Tell me what you think of it!

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Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: absolute fluffiness that will leave your teeth rotten

Summary: Ben needs to grow a moustache for his role in Guillermo del Toro’s Cabinet of Curiosity. You’re not a fan, although… perhaps you don’t hate it as much as pretend you do.

Word count: 1611

Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You’ve never liked moustaches.

It’s simply not your thing. You don’t find it aesthetically pleasing, it tickles when you kiss…

Still, as Ben is getting ready to work for his next Netflix show and he has to grow a moustache… you don’t mind it that much.

You would be lying if you claimed that you didn’t prefer him with a full beard or a clean-shaven face, still… it must be Ben’s magic playing with your head cause you still find him dashing this morning, as you see him shaving his cheeks, shaping his moustache with care.

It’s rather late in the morning, but it’s Sunday and you both enjoy these days slow-paced and lazy, filled with blankets, cuddles and cups of tea.

You have lingered in bed for a long while with Ben this morning, taking your time to wake up under his kisses, holding onto him tight as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. The sun was fully risen when you summoned enough strength to get up and prepare a breakfast for two, Ben making his famous pancakes and you cutting fruits and preparing your favourite beverages and stealing touches as you walked by him.

Now, you’re coming out of the shower that you shared with Ben. The habit domestic and loving, of hands running through hair, and palms massaging tired shoulders, and fingers rubbing soft caresses as well as soap on the other’s skin.

Ben’s hair is still a wet mess, dark strands falling before his eyes. He’s wearing nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, and you can’t help but stare at him as he gets ready.

You put on your underwear while stealing glances, but Ben is too focused to notice the way you gawk at him, admiring the few droplets lingering over the small of his back and along his spine.

He frowns after a while though, staring at his own reflection scrunching his nose in focus.

He turns to you, a slight tilt of the head as he asks you a question.

“Did I make my moustache even? I can’t tell anymore, I’ve been staring at it for too long…”

You chuckle at that, but examine his work all the same, taking the scissors he offers to make the shape perfect.

“Will no one make sure you’ve done a good job on set anyway?”

“At make-up? Of course. But I still have to live for a whole week without any professional help and still try my best to not look ridiculous.”

“But you have my help!” you chime.

“Yeah… that’s what I’m saying.”

You swat his upper arm playfully as you protest, making him laugh.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”

“You shouldn’t play that game with me when I’m holding the scissors. The fate of your facial hair is in my hands, after all.”

He fakes fear, in a not-so-convincing way, especially for a talented actor…

“Please, have mercy, don’t take it out on the moustache!”

“Stop talking, you’re moving your lips.”

“Sorry.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes while you shape his moustache the best you can, and you have a proud smile as you put down the scissors.

“Done! Look! What do you think?”

He smiles as he looks at his reflection once more.

“Quite good! Well done!” Ben leans to give you a kiss, but he frowns hard when you scrunch your nose as you pull away.

“This thing tickles. When are you getting rid of it?”

He laughs at that.

“In a couple of months, I would say.”

“Two months?! Wow… that’s a lot…”

“You hate it that much?”

His tone is playful still, and yet you don’t fail to recognize the hesitation in his gaze.

You roll your eyes.

“You’re always gorgeous, baby,” you reassure him, and it earns you a bright grin.

“But?” he adds, raising a brow.

“But… I’m not a fan of the moustache.”

“Really?” he asks, touching the hair above his lip. “I thought it gave me some… mature charm.”

“You don’t need a moustache to look mature.”

“Are you implying that I’m old?”

“Of course!”

“Hey!”

You can’t refrain your laughter this time, shaking your head at the outrage in his eyes.

“No, you’re not old! Besides, you’re aging gracefully.”

“Getting better, like a fine wine?” he teases, and you nod.

“Absolutely.”

“So, if I wanted to keep my moustache after the movie was done…?”

“Well, you’re free to do whatever you want with your facial hair,” you answer cautiously.

“But you won’t like it.”

You know he’s teasing, not being truly serious.

“I might refuse to kiss you as often as I do now.”

He looks at you with shock, a hand on his heart.

“That would be awfully cruel of you, love!”

“But it tickles! And it’s…”

You merely shake your head.

“Actually, I’m not sure I want to kiss you anymore, now that you have that thing on your face,” you tease him, and Ben knows what you’re doing. He still plays along, gasping.

“No kisses! That would be too cruel. Besides, we both know you wouldn’t hold for more than five minutes! You love my kisses too much for that.”

As if to prove a point, he drops a couple of pecks on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. When you feel him tugging at the clasp of your bra, you pull away though.

“Is that a challenge? Cause I can totally resist the urge of kissing you for a whole day. Especially when you’re sporting that thing.”

“Thing? It’s not alive, you know?”

“Are you sure?”

You both laugh at that while you put on a shirt and some jeans, and Ben gets dressed as well.

“I bet you can last an hour, and then you’ll give up and come cuddle and steal kisses,” he challenges you, and you raise an eyebrow, meeting his confident gaze.

“You think you’re this charming, huh?”

“I am. To you, at least.”

“Cocky!”

He rolls his eyes, but when he answers, the words are more genuine, less playful.

“I simply assume that you’re as obsessed with me as I am with you.”

You grin at that, and you lean to kiss him, before you remember his challenge. You shake yourself out of your urge, and narrow your eyes at him.

“Hmmm… Almost fell for this one,” you admit, making him laugh.

“You would have held on for a grand thirty seconds, then. That would have been a record, you’re all over me all the time when we’re alone.”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is. And I’m all over you as well, and I like it that way.”

It’s his time to lean closer, but you turn your head away, his lips landing on your cheek instead of your lips, making you giggle as he gives you a big smooch anyway.

“No! No kisses!”

You both laugh at that as you walk out of the bathroom.

It turns out it’s easy to last for an hour without kissing him, because Ben spends some time working and you spend some time reading. Even if you’ve both settled in the living room, you’re both busy with your own tasks, and merely hold hands from time to time.

The real struggle comes after this quiet time, when Ben starts seriously losing focus and sets himself on a cuddling mission, lying down and resting his head on your laps so you can run your fingers through his dark hair. He heaves a content sigh at the feeling.

But the moment lasts just a few minutes as Ben grows restless and is soon playing with your hand, then lifting the hem of your shirt to kiss your stomach.

“Stop! It tickles!” you complain in a laughter you can’t hold back, pushing him off of you and almost making him fall off the couch.

He rolls his eyes.

“I usually have a beard and you’re perfectly fine with that!”

“But it doesn’t feel the same.”

He gives you a look and scoffs.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“And you’re irritating.”

He scrunches his nose, moving his moustache in the process, and you can’t help but laugh at him for it. It earns you another dramatic eye-roll.

“Come on, I want kisses,” he complains, leaning closer, but you turn away, laughing.

“No! No kisses while you have that moustache!”

“I’ll have it for two months, you can’t hold that promise, love.”

“I can! I will!”

But Ben grows annoyed now, because, after all, he does want his kisses. His tone is less humorous when he speaks again.

“Love, please. Darling, I want to kiss you. I’m not joking now.”

You pout.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nod, and he smiles again as he leans closer…

…for his lips to meet the cover of your book.

You explode in laughter, and if he didn’t love this sound so much, he would be mad at you right now.

“You’re so cruel…”

But you take his face in your hands in a tender hold, and he can’t keep scowling.

“Sorry, baby. That’s enough teasing. And I need more than you having a stupid moustache to not want to kiss you anymore.”

“Good to know.”

And you yield. You kiss him, forgetting about this challenge of his, and it’s worth it. Despite the moustache, you adore his kisses more than anything in this world.

He chuckles against your lips as you melt into his arms.

“So much for holding on for a whole day…”

“You were getting too needy and moody.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Let me kiss you again…”

You smile, nodding, bumping your nose into his in the process.

“Please, do.”

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